In
From ‘Foreign Natives’ to ‘Native
Foreigners’, Michael Neocosmos traces the events which led up to the May
2008 xenophobic attacks in South Africa. In doing this, Neocosmos uncovers the
manifold ways in which ‘citizenship’ has been defined, in South Africa, over
time. For Neocosmos, despite the inclusive definition of citizenship which was
made manifest throughout the liberation struggle, a more exclusive
understanding has now become dominant. Such a conception of citizenship is not
spontaneous, however, but is reinforced by discourses originating from multiple
actors such as: government officials, the media, civil society and society at
large. These discourses overlap and reinforce each other, culminating in what
Neocosmos calls ‘a politics of fear’. It is this fear, rather than economic
deprivation and an influx of foreigners, which helps to explain the events of
2008. In order to counter this widespread fear, Neocosmos suggests that we need
to reaffirm an inclusive understanding of citizenship in order to transcend
fundamentally oppressive categorisations.
In
order to understand how events, such as the xenophobic attacks of May 2008,
have arisen in South Africa, Neocosmos provides a genealogy of the subject
‘foreigner’ in order to understand the multiple ways in which foreigners in
South Africa have been understood over time. He begins this analysis by recounting
Mamdani’s distinction between ‘direct rule’ and ‘indirect rule’. Here, the
former concept refers to the denial of civil freedoms, while the latter
necessitates the presence of a rural tribal authority, as well as regulations
in the form of customary law (Neocosmos, 2010: 22). Neocosmos regards this
relationship as authoritarian and founded on “an oppressive chieftaincy and a
despotic patriarchal and gerontocratic system of ‘custom,’” (2010: 28) where
the ‘traditional’ is invoked to justify exclusionary networks of patronage. Moreover,
the system of ‘tribute’ which goes towards chiefs not only prevents peasant
from accumulating wealth, but also encourages them to seek wage labour in order
to fund such taxes (Neocosmos, 2010: 30). For Mamdani, the distinction between
indirect and direct rule thus has implications for the way in which people are
constructed in society. As such, those who inhabit the rural extremities are
regarded as ‘subjects’, while the status of ‘citizen’ is reserved only for
those who are seen as having legitimate access to the urban centre. The
consequence of this distinction, for the apartheid state, was the justification
of rural deprivation for the sake of preventing massive rural-urban migration.
Instead, rural subjects were restricted in their movement and were perceived,
by the state, as useful only insofar as they contributed to the augmentation of
white capital through “the reproduction of autonomous peasant communities that
would regularly supply male, adult and single migrant labour to the mines”
(Mamdani in Neocosmos, 2010: 23). The corollary of this mode of organisation
was that black South African citizens, through their constitution as subjects,
were de-nationalised (Neocosmos. 2010: 20). As such, despite having a South
African affiliation founded on indigeneity, former citizens were reduced to
‘foreigners’. Consequently, the distinction between South African migrants and
regional migrants broke down; both subjects were considered to be foreign
within the South African state and, as a result of the extensive exploitation
of workers, the migrant labour system came to be regarded as the sine qua non of apartheid. (Neocosmos,
2010: 41).
Due
to the extent to which the migrant labour system came to be understood as the
key pillar of apartheid qua form of
labour control, actors within the liberation struggle placed primacy on its
eradication. Here, the exclusion of migrants, insofar as it contributed to the
dismantling of the migrant labour system, was interpreted as a progressive
politics. Moreover, since both South African and regional ‘foreigners’
encountered similar levels of oppression and a common enemy, popular movements,
from the outset, assumed an inclusive definition of citizenship (Neocosmos,
2010: 46). As such, rather than understanding citizenship as a function of
indigeneity, the term ‘citizen’ came to refer to those who were actively involved in the political
transformation of society. In addition to their focus on inclusivity, the broad
goal of popular struggles during the 1980s was to gain access to urban spaces
which, hitherto, had been reserved ‘citizens’. This, for Neocosmos (2010: 59),
gave rise to a key contradiction within the popular struggles of the 1980s
insofar as it represented an urban-biased emancipatory project. As such, the
interests of urban and rural dwellers were not reconciled and the positive
aspects of the migrant labour system, namely, development, survival and some
accumulation, were systematically ignored (Neocosmos, 2010: 59).
If
the popular struggles of the 1980s had, as a key tenet, the notion of
inclusivity, how then has citizenship in post-apartheid South Africa shifted to
become contingent on indigeneity? For Neocosmos, the answer to this lies in the
effective de-politicisation of citizens and civil society during the 1990s.
Consequently, the emphasis on popular democracy is replaced by a state-centric
politics which, in turn, gives rise to the state-nation and the subsequent
exclusion of those seen as ‘foreign’ in the name of so-called ‘national
interest’ (Neocosmos, 2010: 62). Additionally, popular involvement in
decision-making becomes replaced with top-down methods which are rationalised
by the assumption that “the state [can] develop the democracy needed for
‘popular development’ through state-controlled corporatist institutions”
(Neocosmos, 2010: 64). In other words, popular involvement is supposed to
develop as a result of statist
conceptions of development rather than prior to, or alongside them. Within this
understanding of citizenship, the individual is rendered passive, apolitical
and is interpreted as a receiver of goods, services and entitlements rather
than an active agent. This is augmented by the centrality of liberalism which
has, as its focus, the concept of ‘delivery’ and as, a result, managerialism
(Neocosmos, 2010: 99). Here, the state is seen as capable of delivering a host
of goods and services including: jobs, empowerment, development, human rights
and a cure for HIV/AIDS (Neocosmos, 2010: 99). Such fetishism thus restricts
the scope for ‘political’ debate to differing opinions on optimal governance. While
some actors do contest the primacy placed on the state, rather than stressing
the need for popular involvement, they tend to focus on the need for market
freedom in development (Neocosmos, 2010: 64). Within these models of
development, the role of ‘the people’ is only to identify their needs such that
they can be represented by local government
or non-government actors (Neocosmos, 2010: 66).
In
bringing about a state-centric mode of politics which has, as its main focus,
the notion of ‘nation building’, exclusion becomes a metaphysical necessity.
Indeed, any group has to differentiate itself from other groups and, as such,
any ‘us’ presupposes a corresponding ‘them’. For Neocosmos, this has culminated
in a ‘fortress perspective’ which interprets South Africa as distinct from the
rest of Africa (Neocosmos, 2010: 82). This discourse of exceptionalism not only
holds the positive view that South Africa is exceptional due to its industrial
development, but also negatively assumes that the rest of Africa, in
comparison, is “rural, backward, immersed in poverty and politically unstable
and corrupt” (Neocosmos, 2010: 67). Such a view is propagated by portrayals of
‘Africa’ in the media as a helpless victim in need of South Africa’s assistance
(Neocosmos, 2010: 96). This fortress perspective, codified by the Aliens
Control Act of 1991, is able to justify the expulsion of foreigners as a result
of their inherent ‘otherness’. The effectiveness of this legislation stems,
perhaps, from the way in which it allows any police or immigration officer to
declare anyone suspected of being an
immigrant a ‘prohibited person’ (Neocosmos, 2010: 82). Such suspicion is
unjustifiably confirmed by an individual’s failure to produce an ID document,
despite the fact that it is not a legal requirement for South African citizens
to have ID documents on their person at all times (Neocosmos, 2010: 89). Additionally,
in support of this legislation, government officials encourage communities to
get involved in unearthing illegal immigrants by claiming that “if they are
good patriots [they should] know that it is in their interests to report [them]
(Neocosmos, 2010: 83). Here, discourses surrounding the national ‘we’ versus
the foreign ‘them’ are made explicitly clear.
In
addition to government legislation, Neocosmos explains the persistence of exclusionary attitudes in South Africa by looking at
the role played by numerous actors, such as: government officials, the media
and civil society. He begins with Mangosuthu Buthelezi who, during his role as
Minister of Home Affairs, became notorious for his inflammatory statements
surrounding the purported deluge of foreigners. In relation to this he
explains: “if we as South African citizens are going to compete for scarce
resources with millions of aliens who are pouring into South Africa, then we
can bid goodbye to our Reconstruction and Development Programme” (Buthelezi in
Neocosmos, 2010: 85). Such a statement reinforces both the idea that belonging to South Africa requires being South African and that development
ought to be perceived as state-led. Similarly, in 1996, a Home Affairs official
called Mr George Orr unabashedly stated that after a grace period, during which
foreigners could apply for permanent residence, immigrants would be hounded,
traced, prosecuted, and denied health and education to the extent that their
lives would be made “unbearable” (Neocosmos, 2010: 86). Here, the foreigner is
not only constructed as inherently ‘other’, but such otherness is used as a
justification for violent interventions. As such, violent methods of discipline,
as enacted in detention centres such as Lindela where detainees are randomly
abused and assaulted, seem to accord with what is interpreted as the
government’s stance on foreigners in South Africa (Neocosmos, 2010: 93). More
recently, an ANC minister, while not explicitly condoning the behaviour of
police officers, stated that “immigrants must apply for the necessary permits
and cannot undermine the law of the country or they will be arrested and
deported” (Neocosmos, 2010: 95). Such a statement, by emphasising the need for
immigrants to obtain relevant documents, seeks to tacitly condone violence
enacted against foreigners. What is not taken into account, however, is the way
in which the corrupt and defunct system undermines the ability for foreigners
to obtain the necessary forms of documentation.
While
xenophobic statements made by Buthelezi and Orr were readily disseminated as
though they were the official position of the government itself, they did not
go uncontested. Indeed, in 1998, Human Rights Watch accused politicians of
making unsubstantiated and inflammatory statements which were dangerous insofar
as they instilled, within the general public, xenophobic attitudes (Neocosmos,
2010: 86). However, human rights discourse, for Neocosmos, is an insufficient mechanism
for countering xenophobia in South Africa. This is due to the extent to which
he regards it as an empty rhetoric which fails to conceptualise the
fundamentally political nature of
xenophobia as an issue of power
(Neocosmos, 2010: 88). Here, human rights are regarded as beyond the realm of
debate insofar as they are scientifically, technically and naturally derived
(Neocosmos, 2010: 100). Despite the fact that access to human rights has to be
struggled for though mass mobilisation, human rights discourse takes them out of popular control where they are
‘guaranteed’ by state and non-state actors (Neocosmos, 2010: 100). Indeed,
human rights discourse, most often taken up by civil society, suffers from the
same shortcomings of technocratic state-centric discourses insofar as it
conceptualises citizens as passive recipients of rights, as opposed to agents
with a political will. This limitation is
inherent in the current construction of civil society due to the extent to
which it exists in mutual recognition with the state (Neocosmos, 2010: 99). As
such, any act originating in what Partha Chatterjee calls ‘political society’
is considered illegitimate insofar as it undermines the authority of the state.
The consequence of this, for Neocosmos (2010: 101), is that human rights
function to maintain privilege while simultaneously excluding the majority from
accessing the political sphere through norms of non-mobilisation. Therefore,
citizenship is reducible to the possession of state documents which enable one
to access entitlements and a disengaged electoral politics every five years
(Neocosmos, 2010: 101). While non-citizens may have such entitlements, these
must be accessed through their own states.
A
further actor that is considered within Neocosmos’s analysis is the media,
which he perceives as an ideological apparatus of the state (Neocosmos, 2010:
95). Neocosmos uncovers two trends within the South African media. The first
trend is “bereft of analysis and uncritically cites problematic research as
fact and uses anti-immigrant terminology” (Neocosmos, 2010: 96). This is the
dominant form of coverage within South Africa today. As such, typical refrains
within these publications refer to migrants as ‘stealing jobs’, ‘flooding into
the country’ and ‘illegal’ (Neocosmos, 2010: 96). The less dominant trend is
regarded as more analytical insofar as it takes into account the positive
effects of labour migration on the economy and national development as a whole
(Neocosmos, 2010: 96). However, such accounts retain the categories of ‘us’ and
‘them’ and, like supposedly radical movements, such as négritude, fail to
transcend categories which, in themselves, are oppressive.
Having
conducted a descending analysis of the way in which foreigners are constructed
in South Africa, Neocosmos attempts to understand how this culminates into a
broader social attitude. Here, findings reveal that the majority of South
Africans can be classified as xenophobic insofar as they support interventions
such as strict limits on the number of immigrants allowed into South Africa and
a total ban on immigration (Neocosmos, 2010: 97). However, unlike the media and
government officials, the understanding of foreigners in society is more
contradictory. This is due to the extent to which a small amount of South
Africans support a more liberalised immigration regime while accepting both
immigrants and immigration (Neocosmos, 2010: 98). The societal stance on the
question of xenophobia is further confounded by society’s response to the 2008
xenophobic attacks (Neocosmos, 2010: 122). Here, so-called ‘ordinary people’
and middle-class civil society assisted by helping those deemed ‘foreign’ hide
from mobs and providing food and blankets respectively (Neocosmos, 2010: 122). However,
Neocosmos later cites Landau who provides an explanation for the middle-class
response to the attacks as not stemming from altruism or legitimate concern for
others, but for the sake of preventing xenophobic discourse from becoming
regarded as legitimate (Landau in Neocosmos, 2010: 145). Within this
conception, the middle-class’s response originates from its recognition that,
if norms of non-tolerance are allowed to prevail, their own acceptance within
South Africa is likely to become more precarious.
Having
established the turbulent journey that the category ‘foreigner’ has undergone
from apartheid, to the liberation struggle and, finally, into post-apartheid
South Africa, Neocosmos is in a position to understand how the events of May
2008 unfolded. From the analysis presented throughout the book, it is clear
that the assertion that the xenophobic attacks were “not a sudden unexpected
occurrence” (Neocosmos, 2010: 118) is a justified one. Instead, such attacks
were made thinkable by the multiple actors seeking to disqualify foreigners
from the realm of legitimate by keeping the distinction ‘us’ versus ‘them’
firmly intact. As such, Neocosmos is deeply critical of accounts of the
xenophobic attacks which explained them as originating from a ‘third force’ of
agitators, the influx of foreigners due to inadequate border controls, a lack
of ‘service delivery’ and economic deprivation (Neocosmos, 2010: 122). These
statements, legitimised by academics and experts, tended to blame poverty and,
ultimately, the poor themselves (Neocosmos, 2010: 122). Moreover, while poverty
might be a necessary explanation, it
is not a sufficient one as, while it
does account for feelings of powerlessness and desperation, it does not explain
why foreigners (or those seen to be
foreigners) were the targets of the violence (Neocosmos, 2010: 122). For
Neocosmos, the fact that violence was enacted against a particular group of
people necessarily assumes that the group had been previously constructed as
‘other’.
In
place of widely disseminated and uncritical explanations, Neocosmos proposes
interrogating the May 2008 xenophobic attacks as originating from ‘the politics
of fear’ which refers to the widespread anxiety “that foreign nationals would
swamp and overwhelm the country in such a way as to make the hard won gains of
the 1990s liberation irrelevant” (Neocosmos, 2010: 141). This fear stems,
primarily, from a hegemonic state discourse, as well as extensive exclusion founded
upon xenophobic attitudes (Neocosmos, 2010: 142). It is this conception, for
Neocosmos, which allows the act of being a foreigner, particularly a poor black
foreigner, to become a crime in itself. The second contributory factor to this
‘fear’, as discussed previously, arises from the ‘exceptionalism’ of South
Africa in comparison to the rest of Africa. According to this framework, South
Africa is democratic and advanced while the rest of Africa is inhabited by the
deviant ‘other’. The final component of ‘the politics of fear’ relates to the
assumption that citizenship entails indigeneity (Neocosmos, 2010: 143). In many
ways, such an understanding is necessitated by the discourse of human rights
and state-centrism which allows individuals to access entitlements only insofar
as they can prove their indigeneity.
In
response to explanations which either blame the poor for the events of May 2008
or keep the dichotomy between foreigners and citizens intact, Neocosmos makes
reference to the Abahlali baseMjondolo’s humanist response to the xenophobic
attacks. Here, AbM stressed a fundamental axiom: ‘An action can be illegal. A
person cannot be illegal’. In addition to pointing out how xenophobic discourse
had manifested itself throughout the state structure, AbM retained its fidelity
to the practice of treating all people
equally (Neocosmos, 2010: 147). As such, it organised community patrols
throughout the period in order to ensure that no violence broke out in areas in
Durban where AbM was present. What is suggested by Neocosmos then is that, in
order to undermine xenophobic attitudes within South Africa, it is necessary to
once again cultivate an understanding of citizenship which is at once dynamic
and inclusive. Instead of reducing individuals to categories such as ‘citizen’
and ‘foreign’, there is an implicit Fanonian maxim which demands that we once
again strive to “recognise…the open door of every consciousness” (Fanon, 2008:
181).
By
tracing the way in which ‘citizenship’ has been defined within South Africa,
Neocosmos successfully challenges commonly held assumptions that xenophobic
violence is a factor of economic deprivation, a third force, or an influx of
foreigners. This is because, as revealed by Neocosmos’s genealogy, multiple
actors have been actively involved in constructing and acting upon both
citizens and foreigners in ways which work to oppress individuals through the
systematic denial of political agency. However, while Neocosmos does
successfully challenge widespread explanations which ultimately blame the poor,
I remain unconvinced that his analysis can explain why the events of May 2008
unfolded, on such an unprecedented scale, at a particular place and time.
Nevertheless, Neocosmos’s suggestion that citizenship ought to be conceived of
as inclusive is helpful insofar as it undermines the dichotomy which exists
between citizens and non-citizens. As such, his analysis is useful insofar as
it considers xenophobia as a phenomenon embedded in the historical, and due to
the extent to which it suggests ways of transcending false binaries.
Reference list
Chatterjee,
P., 2004, The Politics of the Governed, Delhi:
Permanent Black.
Fanon, F.,
2008, Black Skins, White Masks, London:
Pluto Press.
Neocosmos,
M., 2010, From ‘Foreign Natives’ to
‘Native Foreigners’, Senegal: CODESRIA.
