Elon Musk: The Giant We Know Today Had a Tumultuous Childhood of Bullying

Elon Musk is known today as one of the most powerful and influential individuals in the world. A tech mogul, billionaire entrepreneur, and close ally of U.S. President Donald Trump, Musk stands as a symbol of innovation, ambition, and political influence.

But long before the global spotlight and the headlines, he was just a boy from Pretoria—thin, quiet, and often alone—trying to navigate a childhood scarred by violence, isolation, and the cruel hand of apartheid.

Born in 1971 in Pretoria, South Africa, Musk came of age in a country divided by the brutal racial segregation system known as apartheid. At a time when the black majority was oppressed by a white minority government, Musk, who was white, attended schools that were exclusively for white students.

This privileged setting, however, did not spare him from hardship.

One of the first schools Musk attended was Bryanston High School, a public institution in the northern suburbs of Johannesburg. Founded in 1968, Bryanston was a co-educational, English-speaking school where sports reigned supreme.

Rugby players, popular kids, and loud confidence dominated the social scene. Musk, however, didn’t fit in. He was small, bookish, and uninterested in conforming to the athletic ideal.

Lesley Burns, a student at Bryanston during Musk’s first year, recalled how the atmosphere in the school echoed American high schools, where sports stars ruled the hallways. For Musk, this wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was dangerous.

His mother, Maye Haldeman, described him as the most physically fragile boy in his class. He quickly became the target of relentless bullying.

The attacks were not verbal jabs or classroom pranks—they were violent, terrifying assaults. Musk was once thrown down a staircase and beaten so severely that he had to be hospitalized.

Kimbal Musk, Elon’s younger brother, witnessed one of the worst beatings. He later recalled the horrifying scene where his brother was pinned down by a group of boys who pummeled Elon’s head and body until he was unrecognizable.

“When they walked away, I didn’t even recognize him,” Kimbal said in 2023. “His face was so swollen, you couldn’t see his eyes.”

The school never responded to inquiries about the incident. But this brutal environment forced Errol Musk, Elon’s father, to move his sons to Pretoria Boys High School—a different kind of institution.

At Pretoria Boys High, Elon Musk’s life began to shift. Unlike Bryanston, this school offered a more academic focus and, perhaps more importantly, a more accepting peer group. According to Gideon Fourie, a classmate in Musk’s computer science class, Musk was neither a standout athlete nor a stereotypical nerd.

He was simply “a regular guy” who hung out with a small group of friends.

Pretoria Boys High was located near the Musk family’s home in the upscale suburb of Waterkloof. The area, known for its jacaranda-lined streets, was a world apart from the unrest gripping the rest of the country.

In the mid-1980s, South Africa was on the edge of collapse. Uprisings shook black townships, and by 1986, the apartheid regime had declared a state of emergency. Yet in white suburbs like Waterkloof, life remained deceptively serene.

“While the country was burning, we were living under the trees, in peace,” recalled Jonathan Steward, another student at Pretoria Boys High.

Established in 1901, Pretoria Boys High embodied the traditions of elite British-style education. The school produced numerous prominent figures, including British Labour politician Peter Hain, Booker Prize-winning author Damon Galgut, and Paralympic champion Oscar Pistorius.

In 1981, the school broke barriers by admitting black students, specifically children of foreign diplomats—an act of quiet rebellion against apartheid norms.

Errol Musk painted a rosy picture of this time. Speaking from his home in Cape Town, he said, “There was no crime. Everyone—black and white—got along. Everything was fine. That’s the truth, whether people want to hear it or not.”

But Elon’s own experiences seem to tell a more complicated story.

In 1989, at age 18, Musk left South Africa. He went first to Canada, his mother’s homeland, and later to the United States.

His departure came at a crucial moment. South Africa was beginning to negotiate the end of apartheid. Nelson Mandela had been released from prison, and the seeds of democratic reform were taking root.

Some former classmates believe Musk’s early departure may have frozen his perception of South Africa in its apartheid-era form, locking in views shaped by the country’s darkest moments.

Years later, those perceptions resurfaced publicly.

In a social media post on platform X, Musk accused South Africa of practicing “open racial discrimination” against white citizens. He expressed concern that white South Africans were being victimized in the post-apartheid era.

These comments were controversial—but they didn’t go unnoticed by the most powerful man in the United States.

Shortly afterward, President Donald Trump signed an executive order condemning South Africa for what he labeled racial injustice against the Afrikaner people—a white ethnic group descended from Dutch settlers.

The order slashed U.S. aid to South Africa, particularly targeting HIV/AIDS programs that made up 17% of the country’s budget in that area. It also opened the door for Afrikaners to seek asylum in the U.S.

It remains unclear to what extent Musk influenced Trump’s decision. But as one of the president’s closest advisors, it’s plausible that Musk shared his personal views with Trump—views rooted in his childhood trauma and complex relationship with his homeland.

Musk has also spoken out against South Africa’s new land reform laws. In January, South African President Cyril Ramaphosa signed legislation allowing the government to seize land without compensation for public interest. Musk described the law as “racist” and “theft.”

Land ownership has long been a contentious issue in South Africa. Despite the end of apartheid over 30 years ago, white South Africans—only 7% of the population—still own more than 70% of the country’s agricultural land. The land reform law seeks to address this imbalance, but it has stirred fierce opposition from groups who see it as an attack on their rights.

Musk’s statements have galvanized the white community in South Africa. In February, hundreds rallied outside the U.S. embassy in Pretoria holding signs that read, “Thank God for President Trump,” and “Make South Africa Great Again.”

For many, Elon Musk is not just the world’s richest man. He is a voice—powerful, global, unafraid to speak on behalf of a community that feels forgotten in the narrative of modern South Africa. But his story began long before the rockets, the Teslas, and the influence. It began with a boy who was bullied, beaten, and bruised in the halls of apartheid-era schools. A boy who left, but never really forgot.