After maulings for Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelenskyy and King Abdullah of Jordan, South African President Cyril Ramaphosa may have just shown other world leaders how to prepare for President Donald Trump’s Oval Office bear pit.
Historically, these White House sit-downs were dull affairs, replete with grip-and-grin platitudes and geopolitical jargon. Not so during the second term of Trump, who has transformed his office into a gladiatorial arena.
There was February’s stunning bust-up by Vice President JD Vance against Zelenskyy. The same month, Abdullah could not hide his chagrin as Trump spoke at length about his plans to take control of the Gaza Strip.
So, South Africa’s Ramaphosa seemed unsurprised when Trump ambushed him Wednesday — the U.S. president even dimmed the lights for a screening of news clips alleging that white farmers are victims of a genocide in South Africa.
Most experts agree this is a false, baseless claim, seized upon by Trump since employing as an adviser the South African-born billionaire Elon Musk, who was in the Oval Office on Wednesday.
“It’s a terrible sight — I’ve never seen anything like it,” Trump commentated while the footage played.
Unlike other leaders, Ramaphosa — a former trade union leader and ally of Nelson Mandela who helped end apartheid — was clearly prepared. He spoke calmly and without interruption, politely but firmly disagreeing with Trump.
“It will take President Trump listening to the voices of South Africans, some of whom are his good friends,” he said, when asked what would convince the American leader he was mistaken.
And there was a flourish of his own.
Ramaphosa had brought with him Ernie Els and Retief Goosen, two white South African golfers who are both in the Hall of Fame and have won six U.S. Open titles between them.
At a meeting alongside the golf-fanatic Trump, the intention behind the maneuver was unmistakable.
“If there was Afrikaner farmer genocide, I can bet you these three gentlemen would not be here,” the South African leader said in the Oval Office, pointing to the white members of his entourage that also included John Steenhuisen, his agriculture minister. “It will take him, President Trump, listening to their stories, to their perspective.”
Whereas the Zelenskyy fiasco caught “everyone off guard with its intensity and its destructiveness,” Trump’s “planned attack” on Ramaphosa “took the stakes up a level,” said Scott Lucas, a politics professor at Ireland’s University College Dublin.
“Ramaphosa seemed to have been very well briefed and he kept his cool,” he said. “Leaders around the world now have a playbook for how they deal with Trump.”
This is not to say other leaders have not had similar successes already.
British Prime Minister Keir Starmer unfurled from his breast pocket a letter from King Charles III when he came to town in February — a gambit mocked back in Britain for being sycophantic, but one that seemed to go down well with Trump.
Japanese Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba huddled with advisers for more than 20 hours of preparatory meetings ahead of his showdown the same month, a person familiar with the planning said. That too seemed to pay off: Ishiba arrived armed with charts clearly and colorfully illustrating Japan’s investments in America and the kind of visual aids that Trump prefers.
Like Starmer, he played to Trump’s appetite for a theatrical gift, bringing with him a golden samurai helmet, which in Japan often signifies prayers for prosperity and longevity.
Meanwhile, French President Emmanuel Macron appears to have mastered the art of keeping a rapport with Trump while maintaining a macho-style resistance to some of his statements. During his own February Oval Office sit-down, he put his hand on Trump’s arm and gently corrected his mistaken statement that European countries had merely “loaned” money to Ukraine.
Even more stern, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney kept a straight back, clenched jaw and — though often struggling to get a word in edgewise — made it clear through words and firm hand gestures that “Canada is not for sale.”
Even against this field, Ramaphosa’s poise has been widely praised.
“It is one thing preparing to be ambushed and another being able to manage the situation,” said Nic Cheeseman, a professor of democracy at England’s University of Birmingham.
“Most people seem to think that Ramaphosa came out of it well,” he added. “That may also be because he has good people skills, which meant that he was better placed than some world leaders to defuse the situation.”
However artful a sparring partner Ramaphosa was, it’s still unclear how effective his tactics will be.
“You wanted to see drama and something really big happening,” Ramaphosa told reporters afterward, downplaying the episode. “I’m sorry that we disappointed you somewhat when it comes to that.”
But it was still a bruising and concerning encounter for a country that dearly needs American financial help.
Hours before the Oval Office meeting, South African Finance Minister Enoch Godongwana said his government did not have the necessary funds to cover a $430 million shortfall caused by Trump’s cuts to foreign aid.
In Trump, the country faces a president who sees a “perfect trifecta” in the white farmer genocide claim, Patrick Gaspard, a former U.S. ambassador to South Africa, told MSNBC later Wednesday.
It allows Trump “to play to a domestic political audience that is obsessed with white, existential threats,” while distracting from domestic economic issues and promoting Musk’s attempts to get a South African license for Starlink, Gaspard said.
He called the encounter not only “deeply offensive and hurtful to a partnership that we have with a really important nation in sub-Saharan Africa,” but also said it “does a major disservice to that Oval Office, that sacred space.”
The White House did not immediately respond to NBC News’ request for comment.
