Hating the African ‘other’ is rooted in history of slavery
Why are xenophobic attacks in SA so often aimed at foreigners from the rest of Africa? Is this a specific type of Afrophobia among South Africans, asks Rothney Tshaka
BETWEEN 2000 and May 2008, at least 67 people died in what were identified as xenophobic attacks in South Africa.
Then, in May 2008, a series of attacks left 62 people dead, of whom 21 were South Africans. The attacks were apparently motivated by xenophobia.
Last year, another nationwide spike in xenophobic attacks against immigrants in general prompted several foreign governments to begin repatriating their citizens. Even though the majority of people believe that such attacks can be ascribed to xenophobia, some have a different view.
Xenophobia is the wrong word to describe the antagonism directed towards non-South African black people in the so-called xenophobic attacks that have erupted sporadically in South Africa since 2008.
Xenophobia is fear of the other; Afrophobia is fear of a specific other — the black other from north of the Limpopo River.
If foreigners generally were the main target, those who are antiforeigner would no doubt have sought out all foreigners and made it known they are not welcome in this country.
The funny thing is that Greeks and Bulgarians and others come to South Africa, and by virtue of their white skin are seen as contributing. The perception, wrong or right, is that they can be of some benefit, unlike the non-South African black foreigner.
It is for this reason that I prefer to speak of Afrophobia instead of xenophobia.
The term Afrophobia became popular after the 2008 outbreak of violence against other Africans and I have been researching the phenomenon ever since in an effort to understand what lies behind it.
My conclusion is that hostility towards black African foreigners is triggered by a “nervous condition” — a term originally used by French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre in his preface to Frantz Fanon’s book, The Wretched of the Earth, to describe the effects of colonisation.
The notion of a nervous condition refers to a situation created among hegemonies in which the oppressed become willing participants in their oppression.
This has its roots in slavery and particularly in how slave owners controlled their slaves — by exploiting the differences among slaves themselves and using these differences to sow fear, distrust and envy.
A notorious lecture that slave owner Willie Lynch gave in Virginia in the US in 1772 on “the making of a slave” is instructive.
Lynch encouraged members of his slave-owning audience to list all the differences among their slaves — from age and height to sex, size, hair colour and status — and to capitalise on these.
To quote Lynch: “Now that you have a list of differences . . . I shall assure you that distrust is stronger than trust, and envy stronger than adulation, respect or admiration.
“The black slaves after receiving this indoctrination shall carry on and become self-refuelling and selfgenerating for hundreds of years, maybe thousands.”
Not only did Lynch’s prediction prove true, but his model has been emulated and perpetuated through colonialism and capitalism and, in South Africa’s case, apartheid, which by definition categorised and inflated artificially manufactured, race-based differences.
It is the very issues of envy and distrust that some black people use to categorise — and therefore justify resentments towards — the black other.
In present-day South Africa, Afrophobia is a manifestation of distrust and envy towards black foreigners, seen as a threat because they are able to slip undetected into the black community and thus potentially steal the jobs and women of indigenous black South African men.
For those locals who have been disappointed by the South African liberation project, this distrust seems to justify their antagonism towards other African nationals.
One of the worrying elements of this kind of reasoning is that it fuels the attitude that white people are the benefactors — the potential employers — while black people are invariably the beneficiaries.
The Bulgarian, Hungarian or any other white foreigner is seen as a potential employer by virtue of their skin colour and is therefore not subjected to the acrimony that is reserved for those who are seen as competing for scarce resources.
Disappointment in the liberation project is strongly implicated in the nervous condition among South Africans today.
It is primarily as a result of two factors.
The first is a promise that democracy was going to provide all the privileges that black people have always dreamt of, and the second is the depressing realisation that these promises remain unfulfilled for the majority.
This disillusionment is exacerbated by the schism between political democracy and economic democracy in South Africa.
Democracy and capitalism exist uneasily side by side, in contradiction to each other, with democracy encouraging joint interests and equality but capitalism promoting self-interest and economic inequality.
To address the crisis in South African society, it is critical for black people to engage in a serious conversation about blackness — just as white people need to engage in a serious conversation about whiteness.
Whiteness has been the norm and does not need to explain itself as black identity does.
White and black folk need to be having the difficult conversations about race and racialism, and how our past history has created many South Africas in one South Africa.
In the final analysis, though, the task of shedding the yoke of internalised slavery and oppression among black Africans — in South Africa and the rest of Africa — must be the work of Africans themselves.
The black church must regain its leadership position in black communities.
This can happen only when we become critical of the half-truths of consumerism and materialism masquerading as the truth.
Also needed is a critical look at the artificial differences that have been manufactured by those who hold the real power in society.
Afrophobia was inevitable if we take into account our manufactured history, yet our writing of our history will judge us by how hard we work to break the spell of Willie Lynch.
Professor Tshaka is acting director of the School of Humanities at Unisa
Slave owners controlled their slaves by exploiting the differences among them