For years, we have raised the alarm regarding the virulent xenophobia festering within SA. Each time, we are met with a tired chorus of excuses: “South Africans are not xenophobic; they are simply raising genuine socioeconomic concerns” or “they are under pressure”.
If we accept this logic, we must be prepared to apply it universally. If economic strain justifies the targeting of fellow Africans, are we then prepared to excuse all criminal activity born of poverty? Shall we excuse gender-based violence and bigotry by claiming the perpetrators are merely “frustrated men”?
If we validate xenophobia as a “genuine issue”, we strip ourselves of the moral authority to condemn any other form of social transgression. We can no longer demand awareness; we must accept the chaotic consequences of our own double standards.
The tragedy of this xenophobic sentiment is its profound ignorance of our own history. Proponents of this “South Africans first” ideology seem blissfully unaware of the migration patterns that define the Bantu-speaking peoples. Linguistic and archaeological evidence, most notably the Bantu expansion, confirms that our ancestors were not static inhabitants of this land.
Research, including findings in the Journal of African History, traces the origins of the Nguni, Sotho-Tswana, and related groups to migrations originating from the Great Lakes region through Central Africa and explicitly the Congo Basin. To claim “indigenous” purity over our fellow Africans is to reject the very history that defines who we are as Abantu.
Furthermore, by weaponising colonial borders, we become the unwitting agents of the Berlin Conference. If we treat these arbitrary lines − drawn by European powers to carve up our continent − as sacred, how can we legitimately claim that colonialism was an evil? We are effectively completing the colonial project by doing the work of the oppressor: dividing and conquering ourselves.
We cannot demand to be taken seriously on the global stage when we act as the primary saboteurs of our own African identity. If we continue to view our brothers and sisters as “foreigners” on African soil, we ensure that we remain foreigners to the very values of humanity we claim to uphold. – Khotso KD Moleko
