How Banks Use 'Reputational Risk' to Hide Corruption

Are South African banks using reputational risk as a shield for corruption? Sipho Tshabalala exposes the unsettling truth behind the financial institutions that dictate who gets access to the economy.

Are South African banks using reputational risk as a shield for corruption? Sipho Tshabalala exposes the unsettling truth behind the financial institutions that dictate who gets access to the economy.

Image by: IOL / Ron AI

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By Sipho Tshabalala

There’s no need for sugarcoating here. South Africa is not simply dealing with unethical banking behaviour. We are dealing with a cartel, a network of financial institutions that hide behind legal jargon and lofty phrases like "reputational risk" while reinforcing racial, economic, and political gatekeeping.

It is no longer speculation. It is a fact. South Africa’s major banks have perfected the art of selective enforcement, turning a blind eye to real, proven corruption while ruthlessly targeting those who don’t fit the mould of corporate comfort or white monopoly capital.

Need proof? Let’s start with McKinsey. The consulting giant admitted to facilitating corrupt contracts with Eskom and Transnet. They didn’t just whisper through the halls of state capture -  they walked in, briefcases open, collecting billions. After public pressure, McKinsey agreed to pay back over R2 billion. Yet, not one bank has closed their accounts.

Then there’s Angelo Agrizzi of Bosasa, facing a R1.8 billion fraud and corruption case. His revelations exposed a tangled web of bribes and backdoor deals. Still, no bank saw fit to declare him a reputational risk. No urgent closures. No moral panic.

Now, contrast that with what happened to Sekunjalo. No fraud. No conviction. No state capture payout. Just an inconvenient identity: black, independent, and unapologetic. The banks needed no court ruling, no documented wrongdoing. Just enough smoke to justify their fire.

This is the double standard at the heart of our financial system. It is not driven by ethics. It is driven by economics, politics, and race.

Consider Lancaster Group’s deal with Steinhoff. R11.6 billion of public money funnelled through a middleman. A loan never serviced. A B-BBEE trust was never established. An underwriting fee paid without board approval. A PIC board member approving a deal for a company he also served. If "reputational risk" had integrity, Lancaster and Steinhoff would have been blacklisted years ago. Instead, they kept their accounts. Open. Safe. Unbothered.

At the centre of this pattern stands Nedbank – a bank entangled in a mess of its own making. From its historical ties to apartheid finance to recent allegations of collusion in interest rate swap corruption with state entities like Transnet, Nedbank has worn scandals like cologne. And yet, the Reserve Bank hasn’t moved. The regulators haven’t spoken. The courts haven’t challenged. When the rot rises from the boardrooms of the powerful, the silence is deafening.

Banks have transformed "reputational risk" into a weapon. Not a shield. Not a safeguard. A weapon, deployed against those who challenge them, bypass their influence, or threaten the existing economic hierarchy. It is a phrase so vague, it can mean anything. And that is the danger. It gives them absolute discretion. No oversight. No burden of proof. Just vibes and a verdict.

This is not financial regulation. This is economic repression.

The hypocrisy is staggering. It is not that banks are incapable of acting. It is that they choose who to act against. The rules are not universal. They are subjective, shifting with colour, class, and convenience. When white-run companies collapse in scandal, the response is measured, cautious, and understanding. When black-owned firms rise in defiance of corporate gatekeeping, the response is swift, punitive, and final.

We must ask ourselves: who watches the bankers? Who audits the auditors? If those entrusted with economic stewardship are the very agents of exclusion, then we are not living in a democracy. We are living under a regime of corporate capture, where wealth determines innocence, and power decides access.

Sekunjalo is merely the latest example, not the only one. And unless the public demands clarity, accountability, and legislative reform, they won’t be the last. Today, it's Sekunjalo. Tomorrow, it could be any black business that refuses to bow.

The time has come to strip banks of the unchecked power to declare people unworthy of participation in the economy. We need legislation that defines reputational risk, enforces transparency, and holds banks accountable for weaponising their position.

If not, we will continue to live in a country where the real looters bank freely, while those building a future get locked out.

This isn’t just about Sekunjalo. It’s about a system. One that protects the corrupt, rewards the powerful, and punishes the audacious.

It’s time to call it what it is. And it’s time to fight back.

* Sipho Tshabalala is an independent writer, commentator and analyst. 

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media. 

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