By Francis Ruwona
The latest wave of violence against African migrants in South Africa has once again exposed an uncomfortable truth: when governments fail to address economic hardships, political instability and institutional weaknesses, migrants often become convenient scapegoats.
Although these attacks are commonly described as xenophobic, many scholars and commentators argue that Afrophobia is a more accurate description because the violence overwhelmingly targets fellow Africans rather than foreigners in general. Whatever terminology one prefers, the consequences are the same—loss of life, destruction of livelihoods and the steady erosion of the Pan-African ideals that inspired Africa’s liberation movements and continue to underpin regional integration.
This is far from a new phenomenon. South Africa experienced major outbreaks of anti-migrant violence in 2008, 2015, 2019 and again in recent years. During the 2008 attacks alone, at least 62 people were killed, more than 670 injured and over 100,000 displaced, making it one of the gravest episodes of post-apartheid violence.
The victims were predominantly Zimbabweans, Mozambicans, Malawians and other African nationals living in Johannesburg, Durban and Cape Town. Nearly two decades later, while the faces have changed, the underlying causes remain remarkably similar.
South Africa is confronting genuine socio-economic challenges. According to Statistics South Africa’s latest Quarterly Labour Force Survey, the official unemployment rate rose to 32.7% in the first quarter of 2026. More than 301, 000 people joined the ranks of the unemployed, while the economy shed approximately 345, 000 jobs, underscoring the scale of the country’s labour market crisis.
These realities have fuelled public frustration. Yet migrants neither created South Africa’s structural economic problems nor possess the power to solve them. They have instead become highly visible targets in a society searching for explanations for unemployment, poverty and deteriorating public services.
In any constitutional democracy, migration should be managed through effective border administration, professional policing, efficient immigration systems and the consistent application of the law. Where these institutions fail to inspire public confidence, space emerges for self-appointed groups claiming to enforce immigration policy. The rise of organisations such as Operation Dudula and the March and March Movement illustrates this dangerous vacuum. Whatever their stated objectives, the assumption of state functions by private groups represents not institutional strength but a troubling erosion of the rule of law.
Political rhetoric has further inflamed tensions. Public figures including Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma and Ngizwe Mchunu have portrayed migrants as the principal cause of unemployment, crime and pressure on public services. Such narratives may resonate with frustrated communities, but they oversimplify problems rooted in governance, economic policy and institutional capacity.
History demonstrates that once societies accept the scapegoating of one vulnerable group, the boundaries of exclusion often expand. Julius Malema has previously warned that hostility directed at migrants can eventually evolve into conflict among South Africans themselves. There are already worrying signs of ethnic identity being weaponised, with some questioning whether Venda, Tsonga and other minority communities are “truly” South African. Such divisions echo the destructive politics of colonialism and apartheid, replacing national unity with suspicion and exclusion.
The economic consequences of Afrophobia may ultimately prove as damaging as the humanitarian costs. South Africa has long served as Southern Africa’s principal commercial gateway, with ports such as Durban and Gqeberha supporting regional trade. International commerce, however, depends upon stability, predictability and investor confidence.
As transport operators, insurers and investors increasingly assess political and social risk, neighbouring countries continue expanding alternative trade corridors through Maputo, Beira and Nacala in Mozambique, Walvis Bay in Namibia and Dar es Salaam in Tanzania. Should these corridors become firmly established, South Africa risks losing strategic commercial advantages that have long underpinned its regional economic leadership. Capital naturally gravitates towards environments characterised by certainty, efficient institutions and the rule of law.
Government responses have largely focused on condemning violence after it occurs. While such statements are necessary, they are insufficient without sustained reforms that strengthen policing, modernise immigration administration, improve border management and restore public confidence in the state’s ability to enforce the law impartially.
South Africa’s migration pressures also cannot be separated from governance challenges elsewhere in the region, particularly Zimbabwe. Since the early 2000s, successive South African administrations have largely pursued a policy of quiet diplomacy towards Zimbabwe despite recurring political and economic crises. Critics contend that this approach has neither encouraged meaningful democratic reforms nor addressed the conditions driving outward migration.
In 2008, then-President Thabo Mbeki controversially maintained that there was no crisis in Zimbabwe despite widespread evidence of political violence and economic collapse. More recently, critics have argued that key recommendations of the Motlanthe Commission, established to investigate the 2018 post-election violence, have yet to be fully implemented, while concerns persist over shrinking democratic space and institutional accountability.
Today, an estimated two to four million Zimbabweans live in South Africa, making them one of the country’s largest migrant communities. They include economic migrants, asylum seekers and people fleeing political instability. Most crossed the Limpopo not because they wished to abandon their homeland, but because opportunities for security and economic survival had become increasingly limited.
Zimbabwe, however, cannot escape responsibility.
The vulnerability of Zimbabwean migrants in South Africa reflects unresolved governance challenges at home. Weak institutions constrained democratic space, limited employment opportunities, deteriorating public services and prolonged economic instability continue to encourage outward migration. Until these structural challenges are addressed, migration pressures are unlikely to diminish regardless of deportations or periodic outbreaks of violence.
Years of underinvestment have strained healthcare, education, water and sanitation systems. For many skilled Zimbabweans, migration has become less a lifestyle choice than an economic necessity. Those forced to return after attacks in South Africa frequently attempt the journey again because the conditions that compelled them to leave remain fundamentally unchanged.
The Zimbabwean government has also faced criticism for not consistently providing robust diplomatic and humanitarian support to citizens caught up in these attacks. Governments have an obligation to protect their nationals abroad through sustained diplomatic engagement, emergency assistance and effective regional cooperation.
History offers sobering lessons. Uganda’s 1972 expulsion of its Asian community inflicted lasting economic damage. Nigeria’s 1983 expulsion of more than one million West African migrants during the “Ghana Must Go” episode likewise imposed significant diplomatic and economic costs. These examples demonstrate that targeting migrants may provide short-term political symbolism, but it rarely resolves the structural challenges governments seek to address.
Every sovereign state has both the right and the responsibility to regulate its borders and enforce immigration laws. Equally, those responsibilities must be exercised through constitutional institutions, due process and respect for human rights. Effective migration management and the protection of human dignity are not mutually exclusive; they are complementary pillars of democratic governance.
Ultimately, Afrophobia is not the disease but the symptom. The deeper crisis confronting Southern Africa is one of governance: weak institutions, inadequate job creation, ineffective migration management, declining public trust and an inability to resolve political and economic crises before they spill across borders.
South Africa cannot solve these challenges through vigilantism, just as Zimbabwe cannot resolve them by allowing the conditions that drive outward migration to persist. Durable solutions require accountable leadership, constitutional governance, stronger regional cooperation and economies capable of creating opportunities for citizens at home.
The Southern African Development Community was founded on the principles of solidarity, regional integration and shared prosperity. Those ideals will remain elusive if member states fail to uphold democratic governance, strengthen public institutions and address the root causes of migration. Blaming migrants may offer short-term political convenience, but it neither creates jobs nor restores public confidence. It merely diverts attention from the reforms that Southern Africa urgently needs.
