Here we are again. Reporting on yet another case of violence against women in South Africa. This time, a high-ranking member of the judiciary is under scrutiny—Eastern Cape Judge President Selby Mbenenge, who faces serious allegations of sexual harassment from his subordinate, a judges’ secretary named Andiswa Mengo.

But this is bigger than one case or one man. It speaks to a deeper crisis within South Africa’s legal system, exposing the power imbalances that silence victims and shield those in authority. As the tribunal unfolds, tough but necessary questions arise: What does accountability look like when the accused is a powerful judge? Can justice prevail in a system where those who uphold the law are often protected from its consequences? And, more broadly, does South Africa take sexual harassment seriously enough?

A recap of what happened

Between 2021 and 2022, Mengo alleges that Mbenenge sexually harassed her through multiple suggestive messages via WhatsApp, making inappropriate comments and gestures regarding her appearance at work, and an incident on 14 November 2022 where he pointed towards the front of his pants and asked her, “Do you see how much effect you have on me?” and if she did not want to “suck it”. 

Mengo filed an official complaint in December 2022, which was “misplaced”. Another was then filed in January 2023, bringing the matter to public attention. While judges in South Africa have faced misconduct allegations in the past, Mbenenge is the first to risk impeachment over sexual misconduct allegations. The case represents a watershed moment in the country’s legal history—one that could set a precedent for how similar cases are handled in the future.

This is a tribunal, not a trial

What many seem to not realise is that Mbenenge is not on trial for a criminal matter. Nor is this a civil matter where a dispute needs to be solved. Instead, he is being held accountable within a specialised legal framework—South Africa’s Judicial Conduct Committee.

The committee is a 6-member body exclusively made up of judges and forms part of the ongoing development of the system of holding judges accountable, not just through their judgments being appealed, but through their conduct being held up to scrutiny by their peers.

Their job now? To determine whether Mbenenge has breached the Judicial Code of Conduct. Essentially, it is a tribunal of judges judging other judges. If found guilty, he could face serious consequences, including impeachment.

Public hearings in the tribunal kicked off last month from 13-24 January. Its next leg is expected to resume in May.

However, tribunals differ significantly from court trials. They do not necessarily carry the same weight as a criminal conviction, and they can be heavily influenced by internal politics, legal technicalities, and institutional biases. This means that even if the evidence against Mbenenge is compelling, there is no guarantee that justice will be served.

Sexual harassment is not being taken seriously

South Africa has one of the highest rates of sexual violence in the world. Each year, tens of thousands of cases of sexual abuse, assault, and rape are reported. In 2019, the brutal rape and murder of Uyinene “Nene” Mrwetyana and the crimes of the so-called Dros rapist ignited nationwide outrage. But despite these high-profile cases, sexual harassment often remains a lesser-discussed issue in the broader fight against gender-based violence.

From 2023 to 2024 alone, 42 569 cases of rape and 7 418 cases of sexual assault were reported. But sexual harassment—while often linked to sexual violence—is a different category, existing in what gender specialist Lisa Vetten calls a “blurry grey area.”

“Sexual harassment is often overlooked and perceived as less serious,” Vetten told explain, “This perception leads to its deprioritisation both in legal processes and in media coverage.”

According to the South African Police Service (SAPS), sexual harassment is defined as “persistent and unwanted conduct, bullying or intimidation of a sexual nature or the unwelcome or inappropriate promise of rewards in exchange for sexual favours.” It does not always involve physical assault, but due to largely occurring in the workplace and exploiting power imbalances, the psychological and professional consequences for victims can be severe—ranging from workplace intimidation to career setbacks and emotional trauma.

Despite the seriousness of these consequences, sexual harassment in the workplace is often underreported and inadequately addressed. This is where South African law steps in. The Employment Equity Act and the Code of Good Practice on the Handling of Sexual Harassment Cases in the Workplace provide guidelines and procedures for dealing with such cases. In theory, these legal frameworks aim to create safer working environments and ensure that victims receive proper support and justice. In practice, will they work when the accused is a judge?

Survivors stay silent for a reason

For many survivors of sexual harassment, coming forward is not an easy choice. Social norms, systemic obstacles, and deeply ingrained stigmas often deter victims from seeking justice. The fear of retaliation, being disbelieved, or losing one’s job is enough to silence countless victims before they even report the abuse.

South Africa’s workplace culture—especially in powerful institutions like the judiciary—often discourages speaking out. Victims are seen as troublemakers, and the burden of proof is placed disproportionately on them. This culture of silence allows perpetrators to operate with impunity, knowing the system is unlikely to hold them accountable.

Sexual harassment cases rarely see justice. In contrast, some assault cases have resulted in payouts, such as a R3.9 million settlement for a workplace sexual assault survivor. But institutions still protect perpetrators—the Anglican Church in SA failed to disclose abuse allegations against UK lawyer John Smyth for years, and the attorney investigating him, Jeremy Gauntlett, now faces similar allegations from Hylton White.

Is the judicial system protecting its own?

The Mbenenge case underscores a larger issue: how institutions respond—or fail to respond—when allegations of sexual misconduct involve powerful figures.

The Judicial Service Commission (JSC) is responsible for investigating and disciplining judges, but its track record raises serious concerns. But their record is not comforting. Historically, legal technicalities and internal politics have often overshadowed substantive accountability, allowing misconduct to be swept under the rug.

If the examples of sexual misconduct of law practitioners above weren’t enough, other breaches of conduct have been seen in the sector. Consider the case of Judge Nkola Motata, who, despite being found guilty of drunk driving and making racist remarks, managed to avoid impeachment for over a decade. Or Judge John Hlophe, who faced serious allegations of attempting to influence Constitutional Court justices yet remained in office for years amid legal wrangling and delays. The fear among many South Africans is that, despite the gravity of the allegations against Mbenenge, the system will once again fail the victim—delaying justice, if not outright denying it.

As attorney and coordinator for Judges Matter, Alison Tilley told explain regarding sexual harassment in judiciary institutions, “It has happened, is happening, and needs to be dealt with.”

Former Chief Justice Raymond Zondo did sign an anti-sexual harassment policy for South Africa’s judiciary just before he retired in August last year. Judges Matter, however, does not deem this policy sufficient as it “only refers possible complainants to the current ineffective complaint structures”.

What does this mean for public trust in judiciary institutions?

Cases like this do more than expose individual wrongdoing; they shake public confidence in the very institutions meant to uphold justice. When those tasked with interpreting and enforcing the law are themselves accused of abuse, it calls into question the credibility of the entire judicial system.

The outrage sparked by cases like Mbenenge’s often fuels calls for reform. South Africans are demanding greater accountability measures, independent oversight of judicial misconduct, and stronger protections for victims. 

The question remains: will this case be any different? Or will the scales of justice once again tilt in favour of power, leaving yet another survivor unheard and unprotected?

As the tribunal progresses, the country watches. Not just to see what happens to one man but to judge whether South Africa’s legal system is truly capable of holding its own accountable.