The nice little jaunt to Zimbabwe by ANC honchos - and the furore it unleashed - has somewhat overshadowed SA's fecklessness in its dealings with African countries and its total lack of courage in pursuing its own interests.
For too long SA's policy on Africa has simply been to turn the other cheek.
Defence minister Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula has rightly copped much of the criticism for laying on a defence force jet for the ANC delegation to fly to Harare.
She's a serial offender, and never seems to learn from her mistakes.
Abusing state resources has become something of a speciality for her.
A few years ago she used an air force jet to smuggle a woman into SA from the Democratic Republic of Congo with a false passport.
The woman was apparently her son's girlfriend.
The matter was swept under the carpet, par for the course as far as the Jacob Zuma administration was concerned.
President Cyril Ramaphosa issued a statement demanding an explanation from Mapisa-Nqakula within 48 hours.
But he seemed to be playing to the gallery, only responding after a public outcry at this flagrant abuse of state resources.
If Ramaphosa is serious about tackling corruption, he should have fired her on the spot.
She should not even have been allowed to set foot in her office on her return from Zimbabwe.
But Mapisa-Nqakula may have been following orders. Ace Magashule is her party boss. She probably thought she couldn't say no to his command.
Did [Ace] Magashule think he could succeed where nimbler minds had failed?
Perhaps having frustrated Ramaphosa on the home front, Magashule figured he should try and outwit him in foreign relations as well.
Otherwise there was no rhyme or reason for his delegation to head for Harare hot on the heels of Ramaphosa's own envoys.
Did Magashule think he could succeed where nimbler minds had failed?
Did the two deputations convey the same message to the thugs in Harare?
Or did they exchange notes? And one wonders where Naledi Pandor fits in to all this.
On its return, the ANC delegation tried to put a positive spin on the talks with Zanu-PF - but reports from Harare tell a different story.
Its hosts weren't impressed, and they didn't mince their words.
One newspaper headline said Zanu-PF told the ANC delegation to "go jump".
Another said they were advised "to go to hell".
But it was Patrick Chinamasa, a Zanu-PF stalwart, who delivered what was intended as the ultimate insult.
"Zimbabwe is not a province of South Africa," he said. "South Africa has no mediatory role in Zimbabwe. We know that the South African government is controlled by white men."
That SA, 26 years after the demise of apartheid, is still controlled by faceless white people is a canard which its purveyors know all too well touches a raw nerve within the ANC.
And it's a lie that Robert Mugabe deployed with great effect to deflect criticism of his misrule.
Anybody who dared to question the repression in Zimbabwe would be accused of wittingly or unwittingly promoting an imperialist agenda of regime change.
That not only stopped critics dead in their tracks, it kept all of Africa on side.
Such deception has also fallen on fertile ground here at home, where prattles such as white monopoly capital and radical economic transformation have become a staple diet in some political circles.
But the use of SA's history as a stick for its own back is nothing new.
A year after the ANC came to power, Nelson Mandela harshly criticised then Nigerian strongman Sani Abacha after the execution of Ken Saro-Wiwa, the Ogoni activist.
One Nigerian minister, responding to the rebuke, said Mandela was merely a figurehead of a white government.
Mandela dispatched Thabo Mbeki to talk sense to the Nigerians.
Instead of expressing SA's disgust at Saro-Wiwa's execution, Mbeki seemed to make common cause with his hosts.
The idea of African countries not being critical of one another but speaking with one voice became the basis of Mbeki's signature policy of African renaissance, which saw him emerge as a champion of the continent and its diaspora.
But such an approach failed hopelessly to resolve the conflict on SA's own doorstep. Instead it only helped to give succour to and entrench Mugabe's repressive regime.
As a result, many Zimbabweans are understandably wary and suspicious of any intervention by SA.
Zimbabwe wouldn't survive a day without SA's munificence. Our neighbours know that, but they're banking on this country's utter lack of bottle
Instead of using international sanctions as a lever to extract concessions from the regime, for instance, Ramaphosa this week appealed to the UN to lift them.
Zimbabwe wouldn't survive a day without SA's munificence.
Our neighbours know that, but they're banking on this country's utter lack of bottle.
To be insulted by its leaders is almost akin to being abused by beggars even as they survive or live off your charity.
SA's response to all the insults is not only to grin and bear it, but to turn the other cheek.
That, in a nutshell, is our Africa policy.
Our mantra seems to be: don't offend. Don't speak your mind. We're often too keen to go along simply to get along. We're quick to lay into Western countries with boldness and clarity whenever we're offended, but that courage tends to desert us when it comes to Africa, our own sphere of influence.
SA does not always speak its mind on African matters, especially where it disagrees. It's never expressed what is truly in its heart or taken its own interests into account. It has always sought to go with the flow. Nothing wrong with that, as long as it accords with one's values and interests.
SA has a legitimate stake in resolving the conflict in Zimbabwe and it should not be apologetic about it.
It's been mollycoddling the regime for far too long, and that hasn't worked. It's time to apply pressure. It's the only language Emmerson Mnangagwa will understand.
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