I must confess: I immensely enjoyed the fallout between once best buddies Donald Trump and Elon Musk, which played out across Truth Social, Trump’s personal megaphone, and X, the platform formerly (and far more memorably) known as Twitter, which is now owned by Musk.

The spat was triggered by Musk’s denunciation of the US President’s ‘One Big Beautiful Bill’ – which proposes extensive spending cuts that could add about $3-billion to the US’s national debt – as a “disgusting abomination” that would burden Americans with unsustainable debt.

Trump, never one to let a slight go unanswered, fired back with characteristic venom, charging in one of his many salvos: “Elon was ‘wearing thin’, I asked him to leave . . . and he just went crazy.” The jab was a reference to Musk’s recent resignation as head of the Department of Government Efficiency, a Trump 2.0 executive-order initiative aimed at reducing waste and cutting costs across government agencies by eliminating redundant programmes, cancelling contracts, reducing staff and downsizing real estate portfolios.

In happier times, Musk, the world’s wealthiest person, with a net worth of about $400- billion, reportedly poured millions into Trump’s campaign. He seems to be regretting that generosity, arguing in a recent X post that, without this largesse, Trump would not have won the November 2024 elections. He labelled him an ungrateful fellow.

Musk, who was born and raised in South Africa – in Pretoria, to be specific – appears to have little affection for his country of birth, preferring to identify as an American, having made his fortune through a series of successful tech ventures in the US.

He has not hesitated to diss South Africa, often on the basis of what he should know is false information. Last month, for instance, he shared a screenshot of a message from an X user claiming that not a single traffic light in Johannesburg works and that a loaf of bread in this country costs $50, the equivalent of about R1 000. He still has family in this country; his father lives in Pretoria, and all it would have taken to debunk this falsehood was a quick phone call to him. If this was too much of an effort, he could have simply turned to his own AI chatbot, Grok. That’s precisely what one X user did, prompting a factual response: “A standard loaf of bread in South Africa costs about R16 to R19 ($0.83 to $0.98).”

Musk has also given credence to discredited narratives, including one about an ongoing genocide targeting white South African farmers. Such messaging has influenced Trump to cut aid to South Africa and to embrace opportunists seeking refugee status in the US on these grounds.

But Trump hasn’t been an enthusiastic supporter of South Africa at any stage. He expressed negative views about this country, especially around crime – which affects all citizens, not just a particular ethnic grouping – long before he began his first tenure as President in January 2017. But with characters like Musk in his inner circle, those views have only hardened and, presumably, the result is the tough stance he has adopted.

When the bunfight began, many observers ruled out a smoking of the peace pipe but, given a significant toning down on both sides, they might just get back together. However, one thing is certain: the old trust between them is unlikely to be restored. In the absence of that trust, Musk is unlikely to ever again influence Trump’s views – and perhaps his decisions as well – in the manner he has done these past few months.

Trump, as his own man, is bad enough news for South Africa and Africa. Remember how he once described the countries on our continent and how he referred to our Nigerian brothers and sisters as hut dwellers who would never want to go back home once they set foot on American soil? But Trump in the undertow of a billionaire disinformation peddler like Musk is exceedingly bad news, and that’s why I relished their virtual brawl. How I wish it will continue for the next four years or so – until Trump vacates the White House for good.