Even if all foreigners left, SA would still face the same problem

Hundreds of South Africans took to the streets of Johannesburg on Wednesday to protest against high levels of illegal immigration, as part of a broader wave of demonstrations sweeping the country.

The march was organised by March and March, a movement led by former radio anchor Jacinta Ngobese-Zuma, working alongside Operation Dudula, fronted by Zandile Ndlovu. Protesters moved through the city centre intending to hand a memorandum to the Gauteng legislature, calling for stricter immigration enforcement, audits of all migrants, a review of study permits, and the stripping of business licences from employers of undocumented workers.

Supporters of these groups blame foreigners for unemployment and crime, reflecting a wider shift in public sentiment. Distrust of African immigrants has climbed significantly, from 62.6% in 2021 to 73.1% in 2025, according to the Inclusive Society Institute.

Critics argue this anger is being politically exploited. They note that politicians rushing to join anti-migrant protests lend them undeserved credibility, and warn that the rise in anti-foreigner sentiment is likely to play a significant role in the local government elections due between November 2026 and January 2027.

When I consider these events, I am reminded that even if all illegal foreigners were removed, the underlying problem would remain. They would still be left with the problem of South Africa.

South Africa did not emerge as a natural nation shaped by a shared identity or common culture. From its origins under Imperial rule and the South Africa Act of 1909, it was constructed as an imperial project designed to serve the economic needs of the oligarchs. The unification of British colonies, Boer republics, and diverse African societies into a single political system was not driven by internal cohesion, but by the strategic need to control territory and resources. Figures like Cecil John Rhodes envisioned a system where mineral wealth from the interior could be efficiently extracted and transported to coastal ports, reinforcing the idea that the country functioned first and foremost as an economic engine.

This economic logic shaped the structure of the state in ways that still define it today. The discovery of gold in 1886 transformed the Transvaal into a prize worth conquering, culminating in the Second Anglo-Boer War. After consolidating control, the Imperialists created a single economic unit supported by infrastructure like the South African Railways and Harbours, designed to move labour and resources as efficiently as possible. Central to this system was the use of cheap migrant labour, drawing people from different regions and backgrounds into mining and industrial centres. This was not accidental, but necessary for maintaining low production costs and maximising output, embedding a pattern where economic demands overrode social cohesion.

The long-term consequence of this design is a country that remains deeply fragmented. By pulling multiple ethnic and cultural groups into one system to serve an extractive economy, South Africa became a highly multicultural but unstable space. The migrant labour system, combined with imposed borders, fostered competition over jobs, resources, and political power. Instead of producing unity, it has often generated resentment between groups, each navigating a system that was never built around a shared identity. This helps explain why constitutional stability has been so elusive: the state continues to rest on foundations that were never meant to create a cohesive nation, but rather to sustain an imperial economy.

And there is also a spiritual dimension to this, which sits beneath the structural issues. It is a topic for another time, but still worth noting in the context of the Johannesburg protests yesterday.