South Africa’s Struggle Against Apartheid Should Be a Lesson Against Xenophobia I have been watching with disbelief the hostility and indignation that some immigrants from other African countries continue to face in South Africa. The scenes of African migrants being harassed, assaulted, and blamed for social and economic challenges are deeply troubling. For many observers, there is a profound irony in witnessing black Africans attacking fellow black Africans on a continent whose history is marked by struggles against colonialism, racial oppression, and exclusion. South Africa’s history makes these incidents particularly painful to watch. During apartheid, millions of black South Africans were subjected to a system of legalized discrimination imposed by a white minority government. Movement was restricted through the notorious pass laws, which required black South Africans to carry documents authorizing their presence in certain areas. The world condemned these policies as inhumane and unjust. I remember joining picket lines alongside students at Columbia University, demanding the release of Nelson Mandela and calling for an end to apartheid. People across Africa and around the world stood in solidarity with South Africans in their fight for freedom, dignity, and equality. That solidarity transcended borders because the struggle against apartheid was understood to be a struggle for human dignity itself. It is therefore difficult to reconcile that history with images of African immigrants being targeted because of their nationality. Whether they come from Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Mozambique, Malawi, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, or elsewhere, many migrants arrive in South Africa seeking opportunities, safety, and a better future for their families. They are pursuing the same aspirations that have driven migration throughout human history. This is not to dismiss the genuine economic frustrations facing many South Africans. High unemployment, inequality, crime, and pressure on public services are real challenges that deserve serious attention. But immigrants should not become convenient scapegoats for problems whose roots are far more complex. What makes the scapegoating of immigrants even more troubling is that they are not the principal beneficiaries of South Africa’s wealth. The street vendor from Zimbabwe, the construction worker from Mozambique, the shopkeeper from Somalia, or the domestic worker from Malawi did not create the structural inequalities that continue to plague South African society. They are not the economic elite that controls a disproportionate share of wealth and opportunity. Like millions of South Africans, many immigrants are themselves struggling to survive, support their families, and build a better future. Directing anger toward vulnerable migrants may be politically convenient, but it does little to address the deeper economic realities that leave so many people feeling excluded from prosperity. The danger of xenophobia is that it redirects legitimate frustration away from entrenched inequality and toward some of the most vulnerable people in society. History has repeatedly shown that when economic hardship is blamed on outsiders, the real sources of injustice often escape scrutiny. Equally concerning is the relative silence of influential voices. South Africa is home to globally recognized artists, entertainers, athletes, and public figures whose platforms reach millions. Many have benefited from the openness of international audiences and the support of fans across the world. Yet when African migrants face hostility and violence, too few prominent voices are willing to speak with clarity and conviction. Where are the cultural icons whose success was built on international solidarity and global audiences? Where are the artists, entertainers, and public figures who have traveled the world, earned international acclaim, and benefited from the support of people far beyond South Africa’s borders? Moments such as these call for moral leadership. Silence may be comfortable, but it does little to challenge intolerance or defend the principles of human dignity and African solidarity. Public figures are not obligated to comment on every issue. However, when violence and discrimination occur, their voices can help promote tolerance, reject hatred, and remind people of the values that guided South Africa’s democratic transition. The principles championed by Nelson Mandela—human dignity, reconciliation, and respect for human rights—remain as relevant today as they were during the struggle against apartheid. The question is not whether South Africa has the right to enforce its immigration laws. Every sovereign nation does. The question is whether those laws are enforced in a manner consistent with human rights and whether immigrants are treated with dignity regardless of their legal status. A nation can protect its borders while also protecting the humanity of those who cross them. The broader African community should not remain indifferent. Governments, civil society organizations, religious leaders, and cultural figures across the continent should speak clearly against xenophobia wherever it occurs. If influential South African artists and entertainers wish to enjoy the support of audiences across Africa and throughout the world, they should also be willing to stand against the mistreatment of fellow Africans. Cultural influence carries responsibilities as well as rewards. South Africa’s democratic journey inspired the world. It demonstrated that a society built on exclusion could choose a different path. The hope is that the same country that overcame apartheid will also confront xenophobia with courage and reaffirm the values of equality, justice, and human dignity that made its freedom struggle a beacon for millions around the globe. The struggle against discrimination should not end when the victims change. The principles that helped defeat apartheid must also be applied to those who arrive at South Africa’s borders seeking opportunity, safety, and a chance to build a better life. Human dignity is not determined by nationality. It either belongs to all of us, or it belongs to none of us.
Fritz M. Clairvil President of Haiti Pathway Forward (HPF) ◦
