South Africa is confronting a shameful moment. Across Johannesburg’, Pretoria, and the coastal city of Durban. Groups of anti-immigrant activists have reportedly gone door to door, breaking down doors, searching homes, and forcibly removing foreign nationals. Those they apprehend are handed over to waiting police vans. Among them were said to be a Malawian woman and her young child, as well as a Zimbabwean man, Total Mhlanga, who insisted he was legally in the country as a holder of a Zimbabwean Exemption Permit. This behaviour has now spread to businesses with hordes confronting business owners about employing foreigners.
This is not policy. This is not lawful immigration enforcement. It is a breakdown of order, a public display of intimidation that should alarm anyone who believes in constitutional democracy.
What makes the situation even more disturbing is the question of the state’s response. Protest organisers had circulated flyers advertising a “peaceful march” followed by a “door-to-door” operation. The raids were planned, public, and brazen. And yet, police had generally not commented on the conduct of the protesters or the officers present during the raids. When government officials issue statements but fail to decisively stop unlawful conduct, protect vulnerable residents, and prosecute perpetrators, the message to the public is dangerous: some people can be hunted, harassed, and displaced while the state watches.
President Cyril Ramaphosa has repeatedly cautioned against scapegoating immigrants and stressed that private citizens have no legal authority to enforce immigration laws. His administration has condemned violence and vigilantism. But condemnation without consequence is not governance. It is either weakness so severe that it becomes complicity, or cynicism so deep that it becomes a strategy.
The law is not ambiguous. South Africa’s Constitution protects the rights of “everyone” in the country, not only citizens. The Bill of Rights enshrines the rights to dignity, equality, freedom, and security of the person for all, including migrants, asylum seekers, and refugees. Internationally, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights requires each state party to respect and ensure the rights of all individuals within its territory and subject to its jurisdiction. The African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights imposes binding human-rights duties on states to protect persons within their jurisdiction. No political slogan, no crowd anger, and no immigration grievance can override that basic legal reality.
The International Commission of Jurists has also warned that anti-migrant mobilisation and vigilante activity threaten constitutional rights and could fuel xenophobic violence. In a high court case alleging state collusion with, or indifference to, vigilante attacks against migrants and refugees, the ICJ intervened as amicus curiae, urging the court to take account of South Africa’s legal obligation to protect the human rights of non-citizens. At the heart of the case is the alleged failure of state authorities to prevent and address xenophobic conduct by vigilante groups, which have been accused of resorting to violence in some cases, in carrying out unlawful forced evictions, public harassment, and intimidation.
The consequences are already humanitarian. Malawi’s government has said more than 38,000 of its citizens have returned from South Africa in recent weeks over safety concerns, while more than 60,000 Zimbabweans have also returned home. In total, South Africa has repatriated or deported more than 53,000 foreign nationals over the past few weeks. These are not statistics. They are families, children, and individuals who came seeking safety or opportunity and found only fear.
And now, the question of international accountability looms. Nigeria’s Deputy President of the Senate, Senator Barau I. Jibrin, has warned that South Africa risks facing legal action at the International Court of Justice if it fails to halt the recurring xenophobic attacks targeting Nigerians and other foreign nationals. Others have gone further: the Zimbabwe Exemption Permit Holders Association has lodged a criminal complaint with the International Criminal Court against South Africa’s Minister of Sports, Arts and Culture, accusing him of crimes against humanity arising from alleged anti-foreigner statements and conduct. A group of Nigerian former lawmakers has also threatened ICC action, citing provisions of the Rome Statute relating to crimes against humanity, including murder and persecution. Nigeria and Ghana, have reportedly brought these xenophobic and afrophobic events before the African Union.
The irony is stark. South Africa has positioned itself as a champion of international justice, including by taking Israel to the International Court of Justice over allegations related to the war in Gaza. But a government that demands accountability from others must first demonstrate it at home. South Africa’s failure to address recurrent xenophobic violence exposes a profound dissonance between rhetoric and reality.
The White Cross Project adds another layer to this fraught moment. Lex Libertas, a South African group, plans to erect 3,000 white crosses on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., to raise awareness about farm attacks and what it claims is discrimination against white South Africans. Critics argue that this framing does not reflect South Africa’s broader inequality and crime realities. But whether one accepts the project’s claims or not, its existence points to a deeper truth: South Africa’s international reputation is being shaped by narratives of crisis and failure. The anti-migrant violence—and the state’s halting response—only feeds that narrative.
A government worthy of the name must protect both foreigners and citizens within its borders. It must prevent vigilantism, investigate abuses, punish unlawful conduct, and make clear that constitutional rights do not vanish at the whim of a mob. The South African Police Service has warned that anyone inciting violence or targeting foreign nationals will be treated as a criminal suspect. But warnings must be backed by action. Arrests must be made. Prosecutions must follow.
Because here is the core issue: once the state appears absent, ambivalent, or selective, it invites mob justice to fill the vacuum. And when private groups begin breaking down doors, uprooting families, and deciding who may live where, the state’s monopoly on lawful force is being challenged in the most dangerous way possible. The disturbing part is not only the violence itself, but the normalization of it through delay, hesitation, or performative statements that do not stop the abuse.
South Africa has a choice. It can continue down this path, watching as vigilantes take control, as thousands flee, and as international courts take notice. Or it can act decisively to reclaim its commitment to the rule of law and human dignity for everyone within its borders. The Constitution demands it. International law requires it. And history will judge it.
