Is Ubuntu Dead?

I begin with these two definitions because every South African, in one way or another, will be familiar with these words and the kind of effect they provoke. These words should be seen as a partition, a river with two main tributaries flowing apart, one into the sea and the other into a desert. South Africa stands at a precipice, ready to be carried off by one of these two unfolding currents.

The recent events that have taken place in the country, for those familiar with the context, is nothing new. In fact, anti-migrant protests and riots have been part of South Africa’s modern democratic dispensation, arguably since the violent outbreaks that occurred in the late autumn of 2008. The most poignant point of it all is that these anti-migrant protests are largely targeted against other Africans. Which has led some to relabel the current issue not as xenophobic but as afrophobic. When one witnesses the attacks and the forms of vile intimidation as posted on social media, it isn’t hard to see why the label “afrophobic” stands. But we must widen the scope to appreciate the picture on the canvas. Europe, for the past decade and a half or so, has been going through the same problem of anti-migration. Recently America, under Trump 2.0, has doubled down on its anti-migration policies by deploying ICE agents to crack down on illegal migrants. And the irony is not lost on me – we refer to America and Europe as being anti-migrant but reserve the abrasive term of being xenophobic only for South Africa. Is the act of having an intense dislike towards foreigners, as prescribed by the above definition, not inherently xenophobic? Shouldn’t this term also apply to these western countries? But regardless of what one may call it – be it xenophobia, anti-migrant sentiments, afrophobia et cetera, this hate that we are seeing, sprouting from all these parts of the world, is what I would like to define as a form of geopolitical psychosis, a delirium designed for the desperate, and a premeditated madness created only for the sake of political gains through social instability.

Before Covid-19 xenophobic attacks in South Africa were either provoked by leaders riling up their followers against migrants (e.g. King Goodwill Zwelithini’s speech made in 2015, imploring foreigners to pack up and leave because they were taking local jobs), or as was the case in 2008 the attacks came from a wave of protests that turned into riots that spread like wild fire, capturing in the truest sense what I earlier described as a form of premeditated madness. But what we have now seen, post Covid-19, are these “so-called” grassroots movements, spearheaded by local community leaders who profess to speak on behalf of marginalized South Africans. We have become acquainted with such names as Operation Dudula, the Abahambe Movement, and most recently March and March. These movements rose out of a post-pandemic shift, where genuine social grievances were now being politicised and even weaponized. As opposed to pre-Covid-19 anti-migrant attacks, these new ones have been anchored on the coordinated efforts of such figures as Nhlanhla Lux (former leader of Operation Dudula), Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma (leader of March and March), Zandile Dabula (leader of Operation Dudula), Nkosikhona "Phakelumthakathi" Ndabandaba (another leader of March and March), and Ngizwe Mchunu (social media personality). On the surface, one might assume that these individuals, as anti-migrant activists, have given a voice to the voiceless. One might even be led to believe in the pursuit of their cause as being justified and socially relevant for the average South African.

But there’s a pattern here many choose to overlook, sadly a pattern that has proven effective, especially when social circumstances are in dire conditions. The pattern is so effective that it can be considered formulaic, in the sense that all one has to do to garner a following is appeal to the worst of our human qualities. Instead of pushing ideas or policies as the main line of social dialogue, these individuals would rather foster hate and fear, because nothing better guarantees your success on the ballot-box than an emotionally charged electorate. We have seen how this pattern has played out in America under Trump. And because it worked for him politically, giving him two terms in the Oval Office so he could pretend to play god to the rest of the world, allowed others too to have found confidence in the pattern. It’s almost ridiculous how easy it is to politicise – ActionSA (a political party under Herman Mashaba) has used this pattern, BOSA (which stands for Build One South Africa led by former DA MP Mmusi Maimane) has used this pattern in desperation for votes, Patriotic Alliance (a political party led by former gangster turned politician Gayton Mckenzie) has used this pattern to ad nauseum effect, even Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma (leader of March and March) who has stylised her anti-immigration movement as “non-political” has been seen speaking at an MK rally (uMkhonto weSizwe Party led by former South African president, Jacob Zuma). The unfortunate thing about being black and poor is that everyone is willing to take advantage of your lived reality, especially those who claim to be speaking on your behalf. And this is not to take away the grievances many South Africans are facing on the ground. The pain and frustration they face is real. I need not remind anyone, since the saying has become so ubiquitous, that South Africa is probably one of the most unequal societies in the world. But here’s the thing, it is their genuine pain and frustration that these populist figures will use without shame as a stepping stone to ascend the ladder of their political aspirations.

And it comes as no surprise that the rise in anti-migrant protests aligns with the oncoming  2026 local government elections. One thing that appears strange about these movements, especially the likes of Operation Dudula or March and March, is that not much has been revealed about who funds them. Interestingly, during the abysmal presidential meeting between Trump and Ramaphosa where the unfounded claim of a “white genocide” was discussed, South African billionaire businessman Johann Rupert singled out illegal migrants as being the most pressing issue of national security. And given how large scale these movements have become over the last few months and the effective mobilization of thousands of protesters, one would wonder how a grassroots movement would have managed to accrue such global attention. There are noticeably higher powers at work here. It is clear that the SABC (the South African Broadcasting Corporation) has been having a field day with these movements, giving them as much airtime and as little pushback as any state-run media group would be known to do. Other media houses have joined the frenzy too, like eNCA and Newzroom Afrika, with reporters clearly selected to critique the current situation with softball questions. We have seen little to nothing being said about South Africa’s history of colonialism and its subsequence in the form of Apartheid. But given the current zeitgeist that has captured South Africa and the possessive stance of this premeditated madness – does anyone still care about the wealth extraction that has been going on in this country, at an industrial scale, for the past three and a half centuries, the real reason why the average South African is where they are today including the “so-called” undocumented migrant who has suffered under the same system of mass extraction? There are some voices who speak against this wave of anti-migrationism, even in the high echelons of the political machinery, like Julius Malema of the EFF. But here too one may ask to what extent is he using this issue solely for politicizing.

This issue will linger over the country like a shadow for some time to come, not because there’s nothing anyone can do to fix it but because it is such an effective tool for social agitation. For figures like Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma, Zandile Dabula, Nkosikhona "Phakelumthakathi" and many others like them, the delirium has been fully fledged, and the river has parted from its main tributary. There are well meaning South Africans, who might not agree with everything I have written here, but who also see the crises of this type of social scapegoating. Yet they too find themselves at an impasse, paralyzed by the genuine frustrations of poor South Africans as well as the cries of victimized African migrants. The world is about to erupt on this issue of immigration. There are others who would like you to believe that it would be best to meet it with violence. They would like you to believe that burning a foreign owned spaza shop will bring about transformation in real-time. They would like you to believe that harassing random people about their status in the country would rid all the crime in your community. They would like you to believe that your health issues will disappear once you have denied sick patients who haven’t produced the right papers. They would like you to believe that physically assaulting foreign nationals will automatically fix your bank balance. They would like you to believe that your education will improve by chasing away students of foreign parentage. And they would like you to believe that the face of an African, whose features are identical to yours, is a thing you must eradicate or destroy.

My appeal to all South Africans is to not fall into the trap of this psychosis, this madness that has captured “the so-called” developed world. You are not just South Africans, but you are first and foremost Africans – children of the soil, a people of and with the continent, a people not driven by xenophobic sentiments but a people that taught the world what it means to be Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu. Whenever there’s a crises in Africa the world secretly celebrates. They love to see us in turmoil, a house divided can be easily broken into so “they” say. The ghostly attendees of the Berlin Conference must be dancing in their graves at the news that another African country has further isolated itself from the rest of the continent. And when all is said and done, when the elephant in the room you prefer not to address, western imperialism, has had its way with you and all your resources, the only thing you will be left with will be other Africans.

The issue of xenophobia might have started with African foreigners, but after it has done its rounds of violence it ends up returning to South Africans. In 2008, when the worst of the violence broke out, there were numerous South Africans who fearfully carried their identity documents, re-invoking the dompas era, in order to avoid being mistaken for a foreign national. And there were numerous South Africans who were attacked for mistakenly looking foreign. Young people who grew up mostly speaking Setswana had to nervously learn what the Zulu equivalent for elbow, ears, or eye lashes was, in fear that they might not be considered South African enough. Recently there have been reported incidents in KwaZulu-Natal where South African men from the Venda and Tsonga communities have faced harassment from locals who questioned their nationality and demanded they produce their identity documents because they failed to speak isiZulu fluently. This is the life cycle of xenophobia. It is a fast moving, quick action, instant results current, whose stream ultimately flows into the desert and evaporates.