Glynnis Breytenbach's moral high ground crumbles

Advocate Glynnis Breytenbach has long enjoyed a reputation as one of South Africa's fiercest voices for justice. Now a Member of Parliament representing the Democratic Alliance, she is often presented as a fearless defender of the rule of law - a former prosecutor who stood firm against political interference in the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA). Yet, beneath that carefully polished image lies a troubling record that raises questions about the integrity of her so-called moral crusade.

During her tenure at the NPA, Breytenbach was at the centre of one of the most contentious cases in modern prosecutorial history - the saga surrounding former Crime Intelligence boss Richard Mdluli. Breytenbach has long claimed that she was suspended from the NPA because she refused to halt the prosecution of Mdluli, who was allegedly protected by powerful political figures in Jacob Zuma's administration. However, official records, including findings from the Section 12(6) Inquiry, reveal a more complicated picture. The charges against Mdluli were provisionally withdrawn in 2011 by then Specialised Commercial Crime Unit head Lawrence Mrwebi without the legally required authorisation from the Director of Public Prosecutions. The withdrawal was later deemed irregular, but the episode also exposed deep factionalism within the NPA - factionalism in which Breytenbach herself was deeply enmeshed.

Her own conduct during her time at the NPA hardly fits the image of an incorruptible reformer. When she came under internal investigation, she deleted key files from her state-issued laptop and handed it over to her private lawyer, preventing investigators from accessing potentially relevant data. Breytenbach insisted that she was merely protecting her private correspondence, yet the optics of a senior prosecutor destroying or withholding state information were catastrophic. She was later charged with unauthorised access and modification of information, but in 2018 the Pretoria Magistrate's Court acquitted her, ruling that the deletions were not proven to be criminal and may have been done with the knowledge of senior NPA officials.

Even so, acquittal does not equal vindication. The controversy underscored Breytenbach's willingness to bend procedural norms when her own interests were at stake. It is difficult to reconcile her deletion of official records with her public persona as a stickler for accountability. The principle she espouses - that no one is above the law - seemed to fade conveniently when she stood accused.

More troubling, however, is the silence of the South African media in interrogating Breytenbach's contradictions. The same publications that devote endless pages to exposing alleged corruption among black political figures often tread softly when misconduct allegations involve opposition politicians from the Democratic Alliance, especially those who present themselves in polished English and wear the veneer of "professionalism." This double standard is not only hypocritical but corrosive to the nation's pursuit of genuine justice. Selective outrage has become one of the most insidious forms of bias in South African journalism - it elevates some wrongdoers while crucifying others, depending on which political or racial narrative they fit.

The question is simple: how does someone who once deleted official evidence, who was entangled in factional warfare within the NPA, and who was linked to one of the most damaging prosecutorial scandals in the Mdluli saga, now stand as the moral face of accountability? The answer lies not in Breytenbach's innocence but in a system that rewards optics over substance. She benefits from a media and political culture that equates whiteness, eloquence, and opposition politics with virtue - while demanding perfection, or nothing less, from everyone else.

South Africa deserves better than moral performance art. It deserves consistency. Breytenbach's career is a cautionary tale of how selective memory and partisan storytelling can transform a flawed bureaucrat into a hero. Accountability cannot be colour-coded, nor can the law be invoked only when it suits political convenience. If Breytenbach wants to be taken seriously as a custodian of justice, she must first confront her own history with the same transparency she demands of others.

Until that happens, her moral authority remains what it has always been - more myth than substance.