South Africa’s Xenophobic Violence Exposes Gaps in Regional Authority

The recent wave of xenophobic attacks in South Africa, captured in widely circulated videos, has once again brought a familiar issue back into focus. Groups of South Africans were seen confronting and, in some cases, violently attacking African migrants, demanding that they leave the country. Some of the footage showed individuals being forced out of workplaces and hospitals. The attackers justified their actions by claiming foreign Africans were benefiting disproportionately from resources and opportunities meant for South African citizens which they believe contributed to their own economic struggle.

This sentiment is not new. Anti-immigration sentiment in South Africa has, for years, been shaped by a mix of economic anxiety and political rhetoric. Since around 1994, xenophobic violence has resulted in hundreds of deaths, thousands of looted businesses and large-scale displacement. What distinguishes South Africa’s case is the direction of that hostility. It is overwhelmingly targeted at other Africans, particularly migrants from sub-Saharan countries, who are often blamed for crime, unemployment, and economic strain. Nigerians, due to their visibility in business and urban life, have been particularly targeted. As of mid-2025, an estimated 31,000 Nigerians were living in South Africa.

Public opinion data helps explain why these attacks persist. A significant majority of South Africans believe that immigrants are worsening economic conditions and supporting stricter enforcement or outright removal is the solution. Groups like Operation Dudula act on this belief by organising campaigns to identify, harass, and push out foreign nationals. While these groups present themselves as grassroots movements, their actions normalise a more aggressive form of xenophobia.

But while the domestic drivers of xenophobia in South Africa are often analysed in detail, less attention is paid to the broader institutional failures that allow it to continue. The African Union, for instance, is mandated to promote human rights, protect lives, and encourage cooperation among African states. Its policy frameworks explicitly commit member states to combating xenophobia and related forms of discrimination. Yet, in moments like this, the AU’s response has been minimal. The absence of a clear and immediate position following the latest attacks reflects a wider pattern in which the AU’s commitments rarely translate into visible action when member states fall short.

Nigeria’s response raises similar concerns. During the 2019 xenophobic attacks, the Nigerian government evacuated hundreds of its citizens and engaged diplomatically with South Africa, receiving formal apologies from officials who pledged accountability. At the time, late president Muhammadu Buhari was directly involved in those discussions. Since then, however, Nigerians remain frequent targets of xenophobic violence, and official responses have become less decisive, suggesting a weakening commitment to these actions.

The contrast with other African countries is noticeable. Following the most recent incidents, Ghana publicly condemned the attacks and called for an investigation into the treatment of its citizens in South Africa. In comparison, Nigeria has yet to issue a similarly clear statement. This silence is not occurring in isolation; it reflects a broader weakening of Nigeria’s diplomatic posture in recent years.

Under both Muhammadu Buhari and Bola Tinubu, foreign policy has appeared increasingly reactive rather than strategic. Buhari’s final years in office were marked by a noticeable disengagement from both domestic and international issues. Tinubu’s administration has barely taken steps to reassert Nigeria’s position, and so key gaps remain. One example is the prolonged delay in appointing ambassadors after their recall in 2023, which left Nigeria’s foreign missions without substantive leadership for over a year. During that period, diplomatic representation was handled by chargés d’affaires, who, while capable, do not carry the same political weight or influence as appointed ambassadors.

That gap matters in situations like this. Diplomatic presence is not just symbolic; it shapes how seriously a country’s concerns are taken. When responses are delayed or muted, it sends a signal—intended or not—about how much protection citizens can expect abroad.

The role of the South African government often fuels these violent xenophobic attacks. While some officials have condemned xenophobic violence, there have been instances where political rhetoric has reinforced suspicion toward foreign nationals. The controversy surrounding Chidimma Adetshina is one example. Despite her eligibility for citizenship under South African law, her status became the subject of public scrutiny, with figures like South Africa’s Arts and Culture Minister, Gayton McKenzie, questioning her claim. These incursions, while framed as administrative concerns, feed into a broader narrative that positions African migrants as outsiders whose presence must be justified.

Thus, the current situation reflects a convergence of failures. In South Africa, economic frustration continues to be channelled into hostility toward migrants. At the continental level, the African Union has struggled to assert its role beyond formal commitments. And in Nigeria, a weakened diplomatic posture has limited the government’s ability or willingness to respond decisively.

Xenophobia in South Africa is often described as cyclical, flaring up and receding without ever fully disappearing. This cycle is sustained by factors beyond domestic conditions. It persists because the systems that should interrupt it, including legal accountability, political leadership, and diplomatic pressure, remain either inconsistent or absent.