Honesty in public discourse is often uncomfortable, yet it remains indispensable. The recurrent attacks against African nationals in South Africa demand conceptual clarity. To describe these incidents merely as “xenophobia” risks obscuring their deeper nature. What we are witnessing, in many instances, is more accurately understood as Afrophobia, a form of hostility directed not simply at foreigners, but at fellow Africans. Naming this reality is not an exercise in provocation; it is a prerequisite for meaningful diagnosis and response.
At the same time, such a characterization must be approached with care and balance. Having spent over two decades intermittently in South Africa, I have encountered a society marked not by inherent hostility, but by remarkable warmth and human dignity. Ordinary South Africans, in my experience, are among the most generous and humane individuals one may encounter globally. The problem, therefore, does not lie in the moral disposition of the people, but rather in the narratives that shape perception and public consciousness.
Afrophobia as a Symptom of a Failing Transnational African Project
The Myth of Inherent Hostility
Afrophobia, in this sense, is not merely a social manifestation, it is a symptom of a deeper failure within the transnational African project. It reflects a breakdown in the collective imagination that once sustained Pan-African solidarity. Misleading narratives about the rest of Africa, and about African migrants in particular, have contributed significantly to this condition.
These narratives often portray non-South African Africans as burdens on public resources, particularly in health and education. Yet such claims are frequently overstated or inaccurate. Refugees, for instance, are often supported through international mechanisms, including the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, which provides financial contributions to host states.
The second erroneous narrative pertains to the claim that non-South African nationals are taking jobs from South Africans. In reality, a significant portion of the South African population of African descent remains unemployed, a persistent concern that the government routinely highlights. For individuals who are not South African citizens, securing employment in the formal corporate or financial sectors is virtually unattainable.
Historically, the primary avenue available to other African nationals was access to education sector particularly tertiary education. However, that pathway has since been effectively closed, owing to a combination of leftist ideologies, nationalist sentiments, internal factional dynamics within the ruling party, and related political dispositions. As matters currently stand, African nationals are predominantly confined to participation in the informal trading sector. Even in this limited sphere of opportunity, however, they would likely face considerable challenges were fuller access ever to be extended.
Perhaps the most problematic discourse is the pervasive notion of South African exceptionalism relative to the rest of the continent. Such a narrative is not only ethically tenuous but also analytically flawed. Fundamentally, South Africa is indistinguishable from its continental peers regarding its endowment of human and natural capital.
While South Africa undoubtedly possesses a more advanced physical infrastructure, a historical legacy rather than an inherent superiority. It is essential to recognize that this developmental potential is latent across all African regions. In fact, a persuasive argument exists for the “advantage of the latecomer,” where other African nations may leverage contemporary technological applications and job-creation strategies more agilely than established economies. Consequently, no country or group is in a position to adopt a posture of superiority or complacency.
Equally problematic narrative is the persistent labelling of African nationals as “foreigners” within Africa itself. This terminology is not neutral; it carries the residue of colonial classifications that divided the continent into artificial being and belonging. To describe an African as a foreign national on African soil is to reproduce a conceptual framework that undermines continental unity. Language, in this regard, is not merely descriptive, it is constitutive. It shapes perception, and in doing so, can either reinforce or challenge exclusionary attitudes. The use of the term “foreigner,” as a dominant narrative, is problematic and warrants critical review and appropriate regulatory consideration, not only in South Africa but across the continent.
The nature of Afrophobia is not just about jobs or resources, but an attack on the “African identity” itself
The persistence of such narratives suggests that Afrophobia cannot be reduced to economic competition alone. While concerns about employment and service delivery are real, they do not fully explain the intensity or symbolic nature of the hostility. Rather, what is at stake is a deeper contestation over identity, over who belongs, and on what terms. In this sense, Afrophobia represents not only a social tension but a philosophical crisis of African identity.
The Infrastructure Illusion and The Shadow of Coloniality
South Africa’s economic success is often measured by the proliferation of high-net-worth individuals and a world-class infrastructure, vestiges of a settler-colonial history that meets European standards. Yet, these achievements have failed to trickle down to the majority. This creates a dangerous vacuum where ordinary citizens, struggling under the weight of inequality, are misled into believing they are exceptional compared to their continental peers.
When citizens are conditioned to believe they occupy a superior economic tier, they begin to view fellow Africans not as brothers, but as competitors for a shrinking plate. The reality is that South Africa’s struggles with poverty and governance are inherently African. The “exceptionalism” is an architectural illusion that obscures our shared vulnerability.
To understand the current surge in Afrophobia, we must evaluate it within the “long shadow of coloniality.” There is a stinging irony in the fact that an African immigrant in the United States, Canada, or Australia often finds it easier to assimilate and attain political office than a fellow African in South Africa. In the West, the path to becoming a representative is paved by law, whether systemic abhorrence exists or not. In South Africa, even after obtaining citizenship, running for an office as simple as that of a local councillor remains both a bureaucratic and a social nightmare.
“Postcolonial unfulfilled promise created a paradox: some nations still use the same exclusionary tactics as the colonial regime.”
It is intellectually inconsistent to condemn Western racism while our own “backyard is full of dust.” We cannot champion the rights of the global oppressed while turning a blind eye to the African bodies falling in broad daylight on our own streets. Charity, and justice, must start at home.
South Africa’s own historical trajectory adds further complexity. The country’s democratic transition carried with it a powerful vision of Pan-Africanism and continental leadership. Yet the gap between this normative aspiration and present realities has become increasingly apparent. The tension between national priorities and continental commitments remains unresolved, revealing an internal contradiction within the post-apartheid project.
Migration, often cited as a central issue, must also be situated within a broader structural context. Population movements across the continent are driven by multiple factors, including conflict, governance challenges, and economic disparities. No individual leaves their home without compelling reasons. At the same time, South Africa itself is undergoing economic strain, and like many countries, faces the challenge of balancing domestic priorities with regional responsibilities.
“The contradiction between South Africa’s Pan-African rhetoric and its local realities requires careful examination”
Empirically, migrants constitute a relatively small proportion of the population in South Africa, to be specific, less than three percent Their participation in the formal economy is often constrained by regulatory and institutional barriers. The perception that they are displacing local workers is therefore not always supported by evidence. More importantly, the informal sector, where many migrants operate, reflects both resilience and marginalization, rather than dominance.
The broader paradox is unmistakable. Across the continent, African states continue to pursue integration through frameworks such as the African Union and the African Continental Free Trade Area. These initiatives envision a future defined by mobility, cooperation, and shared prosperity. Yet, at the societal level, divisions persist, often along lines that mirror the very boundaries these frameworks seek to transcend.
This contradiction is not unique to South Africa, but it is particularly visible there. It invites a deeper reflection on the unfinished project of decolonization. The postcolonial state, in some instances, has inherited not only the structures but also the exclusionary logics of the colonial order, policing borders, categorizing identities, and defining belonging in narrow terms.
At the same time, it is important to recognize that South Africa’s challenges are neither isolated nor exceptional. Across the continent, governance deficits, inequality, and social fragmentation continue to shape migration patterns and public sentiment. Responsibility, therefore, is collective. Afrophobia is not solely a South African issue; it is a continental concern that reflects broader failures of political leadership and institutional coherence.
Moving Beyond the Rhetoric
A necessary shift in discourse is the rejection of narratives that demonise one African country while appreciating another. Such rhetoric resembles President Trump’s remark about so-called “shithole” African countries. This framing is analytically unsound and diplomatically harmful. No African country is inherently beautiful or unattractive. Every nation on the continent possesses its own distinct form of beauty. Economic disparities exist, of course, between poorer and richer nations.
These differences often arise from the degree to which natural resources have been utilised. Africa cannot be meaningfully understood through binaries of “successful” and “failed” states; rather, each country embodies distinct historical trajectories, structural conditions, and developmental potentials that must be engaged with nuance and intellectual responsibility.
In this regard, it is important to recognize that no African country is inherently deficient or exceptional in isolation. Variations in economic performance often reflect differing degrees of resource utilization, governance capacity, and external constraints, rather than intrinsic national shortcomings.
For instance, Somalia possesses significant strategic and economic assets, including one of the longest coastlines on mainland Africa, approximately 3,293 kilometres, alongside substantial arable land and considerable untapped offshore oil and gas reserves. Estimates suggest the potential of up to 30 billion barrels, positioning the country for future energy development, contingent upon stability and effective governance. These untapped resources coexist with industrious and hardworking entrepreneurial communities.
Beyond material resources, however, the most consequential asset lies in human potential. The resilience, adaptability, and entrepreneurial spirit of African societies remain underappreciated dimensions of development discourse. To assess countries solely through the lens of present economic hardship is to overlook both latent capacity and the broader structural forces that shape such conditions. More importantly, such judgments risk dehumanizing populations and reinforcing reductive stereotypes.
A more constructive approach, therefore, is to foreground the intellectual and creative agency of African peoples, the capacity to redefine narratives, generate solutions, and transform constraints into opportunities. Even in contexts marked by fragility, the human imagination retains the power to reconstitute possibility.
It is this dimension, rather than the mere inventory of resources, that should anchor a more balanced and forward-looking discourse on Africa’s place in the world. Even in the most challenging environments, including what might be called “no man’s land,” that capacity endures. Therefore, discourse should move away from hierarchical judgements of African nations. A more constructive approach recognises the potential and dignity inherent in every African society.
The Crisis of Leadership and Accountability
The expectation that the African National Congress (ANC) would serve as a permanent torchbearer for Pan-Africanism has met a grim reality. Since 1994, the ideological clarity and charisma of the liberation movement have faded, replaced by internal contradictions where nationalism frequently stifles continental collectivism.
This leads to a fundamental question of accountability: Who will hold the perpetrators of bad governance in Africa responsible? While African leaders often play leading roles in global diplomatic dramas, many ignore the mass murderers walking freely within our own borders.
Addressing this challenge requires more than rhetorical condemnation. It demands a recalibration of discourse, a re-examination of policy, and a reinvigoration of Pan-African ideals. Civil society, religious institutions, community leaders, and governments must work collaboratively to rebuild trust and foster dialogue. Equally important is the need to listen, to understand the concerns of ordinary citizens while resisting narratives that dehumanize others.
Ultimately, the question is not only how to respond to Afrophobia, but how to prevent it. This requires confronting uncomfortable truths: about governance failures in sending countries, about economic pressures in receiving societies, and about the fragility of continental solidarity. It also requires a commitment to principle, that the dignity of Africans must be upheld everywhere on the continent.
Calling the phenomenon by its proper name is a necessary first step. But naming alone is insufficient. The deeper task is to align practice with principle, and to ensure that the vision of a united Africa is not confined to institutional declarations, but realized in the everyday interactions of its people.
Context Matters for a Balanced and Holistic Understanding
It is important not to overlook the historical context through which South Africans have lived, a history marked by both profound trauma and remarkable resilience. Within this context, the recent legacy of apartheid included systemic isolation, discrimination, and racial and ethnic labelling.
The post-apartheid era has introduced its own complexities policy frameworks such as affirmative action, while intended to redress past injustices, are perceived by some as a continuation of systemic exclusion. This dynamic evokes the principle of “an eye for an eye,” reminiscent of the ancient Babylonian Code of Hammurabi (c. 1790 BCE). Given these deep-seated historical grievances, holding ordinary South Africans to a different moral or behavioural standard may be disconnected from reality.
Conversely, a reciprocal accountability is required from the broader African continent. African countries are not necessarily in a morally superior position to criticize South Africa’s situation. When pointing a finger at South Africa, it is worth remembering that the remaining fingers often point back at oneself. Beyond their professed Pan-African rhetoric, many African nations remain largely isolationist and protectionist.
More concerning still, some African countries practice discrimination, not only against non-nationals but also against their own citizens, through vague forms of ethnic and language-based federalism. Such domestic inconsistencies justify a degree of scepticism regarding the efficacy of frameworks like the AfCFTA, which require a fundamental shift in political and cultural mindset to succeed. When all these factors are considered, by any reasonable measure, South Africa emerges as a relatively safe haven, far from being a place of unmitigated hardship.
Conclusion: Toward a Diplomacy of Dignity
The migration we witness today is a symptom of failed states and fundamental injustice in most African countries. No conscious human being leaves their home unless the environment becomes untenable. African immigrants and displaced persons remain vulnerable to violence and injustice both within Africa and beyond its borders. A recent report indicates that the government of Saudi Arabia has decided to punish over 100 African immigrants by public beheading with a sword.
These African nationals face capital punishment in a legal and cultural environment alien to them. They originally fled persecution within Africa, only to encounter it again in a foreign jurisdiction. In that jurisdiction, they do not speak the local language. They face significant cultural barriers. Their prospects for survival remain uncertain. Silence in the face of such events undermines the very principles of continental solidarity and the protection of African lives everywhere.
If we are to transform the dream of “Africa for Africans” into a reality, we must first recognize that an African national cannot be a foreign national on African soil. We must stop policing the victims of our shared history and start dismantling the colonial mentalities that keep us divided. Only then can we move from a politics of fear to a diplomacy of dignity.
In post-apartheid South Africa, issues of xenophobia and Afrophobia will recur. This will continue unless the government and concerned citizens take collective, pragmatic action. Civil society, elderly communities, religious leaders, the government, AU agencies, and the international community must work together for lasting solutions. The agency of Pan Africanism is not the sole responsibility of South Africa. The African continent at large should shift from a blaming game and act accordingly.
Seife Tadelle Kidane (PhD) serves as Director of the Centre for Governance and Intra-Africa Trade Studies (CGIATS) and President of Africa Speaks with Special Consultative status with the UN-ECOSOC. He can be reached at [email protected]
Contributed by Seife Tadelle Kidane (PhD)
