OPINION | Backdoor for billionaires: Malatsi's policy directive risks undoing black empowerment gains

A quiet but dangerous precedent is taking shape in SA's communications policy. Disguised as a technical intervention, the proposed policy directive by communications minister Solly Malatsi on satellite services opens the door for multinationals – most notably Elon Musk’s Starlink – to operate in our market without meeting the hard-fought requirements of B-BBEE.

If adopted, it will mark the most significant retreat from transformation since 1994 – a silent but strategic concession to capital at the expense of national sovereignty and historical redress.

At issue is the Individual Electronic Communications Network Services licence, a critical regulatory mechanism that requires potential network providers to be 30% black-owned, as per SA's information, communication and technology (ICT) sector codes. Starlink’s refusal to comply with this requirement stalled its entry into SA – until now.

Malatsi’s policy directive, published in the Government Gazette last week, proposes an inquiry into opening new licensing windows, which could potentially allow companies to apply under alternative conditions, including an “equity equivalent” programme. This, on paper, may seem neutral but, in practice, it is a deliberate sidestep – a shortcut for multinationals unwilling to partner with historically disadvantaged South Africans.

The proposed inquiry frames this as a response to the 2019 Competition Commission Data Services Market Inquiry, which identified high data prices and a lack of universal internet access as major barriers to inclusion. But the report never recommended weakening equity conditions or bypassing empowerment laws. If anything, it urged structural reform to break market concentration and promote genuine competition, rather than deregulated access for global monopolies.

Let us be clear: Starlink is not a neutral player. It is owned by SpaceX and controlled by Elon Musk, who has publicly ridiculed SA's transformation laws. His companies have a long record of resisting unionisation, avoiding taxation, and exploiting regulatory loopholes globally. To bend our laws for his entry is not innovation – it is submission.

The communications department now claims this move isn’t “tailor-made” for Starlink. Yet the timing, framing and political choreography suggest otherwise. The proposal invites public comment until late June, but if left unchallenged, will erode the principle that those who profit in our economy must also contribute to its transformation.

We must resist the narrative that empowerment laws are the obstacle to digital inclusion. It is not BEE that prevents rural schools from accessing the internet – it is capital’s refusal to invest where it cannot extract maximum profit. Starlink’s business model is built for remote markets, but only where licensing allows unfettered access.

Let’s not forget: more than 72% of SA's agricultural land is still owned by white people, and the top 10% of earners receive 65% of national income, while the bottom 50% receive just 5% (World Inequality Report, 2021). These inequalities are not accidental – they are the legacy of racial capitalism and colonial dispossession. If we begin to dilute the transformation law in one sector, where does it stop? Equity equivalents were introduced with strict conditions, not as an escape hatch.

This is not just a policy debate, it is a political one. Parliament is right to summon Malatsi to explain the implications of this directive. The ANC Youth League and the ANC NEC communications subcommittee have already raised red flags. As Nkenke Kekana rightly noted, only a holistic overhaul of the law, not a clever regulatory detour, could legally enable what this directive hints at.

We are witnessing the return of silent capture, not through corruption, but through ideological drift, where market confidence trumps transformation and foreign capital takes precedence over constitutional mandates. The danger is not only in this instance but in the precedent it sets.

The same logic is creeping into other sectors: calls to suspend employment equity for “skilled” migrants, whispers of rolling back localisation for procurement and efforts to repeal sections of the Preferential Procurement Policy Framework Act. Each time, the argument is the same: redress is inconvenient. But we cannot build a democratic economy by postponing justice.

SA's National Development Plan commits to a just, inclusive and transformed economy. The Digital Economy Masterplan envisions universal connectivity, but not at the cost of surrendering ownership to unaccountable billionaires. The Expropriation Bill, the Land Court Bill and the pending wealth tax proposal are all steps towards restoring the means of production to those long excluded from them.

If the goal is digital inclusion, let us build state-owned broadband infrastructure, invest in public Wi-Fi networks and expand municipal fibre rollouts. Let us support worker-owned co-operatives in the digital economy. Let us demand that every global player complies fully with our transformation laws – no exceptions.

To open the door for Starlink under weakened equity conditions is not digital progress – it's economic recolonisation.

In conclusion, this is about sovereignty. Will we let Musk and his ilk decide the terms of engagement in our economy? Or will we assert, with constitutional clarity and political courage, that transformation is non-negotiable?

We cannot stream sovereignty at the speed of satellites. It must be built, protected and advanced – brick by brick, byte by byte, policy by policy. The Starlink saga is not about internet access. It is about who owns the future. And we cannot afford to sell it off, one directive at a time.

Manamela is the deputy minister of higher education & training