Xenophobia In South Africa: Do Recent Attacks Validate Botha’s Assertion?

In 1988, as international pressure against apartheid reached a crescendo, South Africa’s then State President Pieter Willem Botha reportedly said that Black Africans were incapable of governing themselves.

The statement, which was widely circulated but never verified in an official transcript, was blunt: “Black people cannot rule themselves because they don’t have the brain and mental capacity to govern a society. Give them guns, they will kill themselves; give them power, they will steal all the government money; give them independence and democracy, they will use it to promote tribalism, ethnicity, bigotry, hatred, killings and wars.” A longer version of an alleged 1985 speech described Black people as “a symbol of poverty, mental inferiority, laziness and emotional incompetence.”

Botha was the architect of “reform apartheid,” a policy that eased some racial restrictions while entrenching white minority rule.

He legalized interracial marriage, relaxed the Group Areas Act, and gave limited political rights to Coloured and Indian South Africans. But he stopped short of black majority rule, refusing to negotiate with the African National Congress or free Nelson Mandela for most of his tenure. Whether his words were authentic or not, they were the ideological essence of apartheid: that white minority rule was a must because Black Africans were incapable of self-rule.

More than three decades after the end of apartheid and the establishment of democracy in South Africa, that claim has re-emerged in public discourse, not from white supremacists but from some Africans responding to a painful reality: the periodic eruption of xenophobic violence against fellow Africans in South Africa.

Since 2008, South Africa has seen successive waves of attacks on African migrants. Shops owned by Nigerians, Somalis, Zimbabweans and Mozambicans were looted and burned. Foreign nationals have been beaten, killed and forced out of townships. Mobs targeted foreign-owned businesses in Johannesburg and Pretoria in September 2019, forcing hundreds to flee. In 2021, and again in 2023, similar violence flared in Durban and Gauteng, often justified by perpetrators as a response to unemployment and crime.

The victims are not Europeans or Asians . They are Africans, compatriots of the African Union, compatriots of the African Continental Free Trade Area, compatriots of a continent that preaches Pan-African solidarity. The bitterness is bitter. The country that itself experienced decades of racial exclusion now has parts of its population excluding other Black Africans in similar ways.

This is the context in which Botha’s supposed statement is being recalled. For some commentators, the attacks are more than criminal acts. They are viewed as symptoms of a deeper malaise, a breakdown in governance, social cohesion and civil responsibility that stretches beyond the borders of South Africa and into the broader African experience.

Africa is the world’s youngest continent, with 60 percent of its population under 25 years old. It is also the richest in natural resources, with 30 percent of the world’s mineral reserves and 65 percent of its arable land. Yet it remains the least developed continent on almost every index, from GDP per capita to healthcare, education and infrastructure

It’s complicated and has to do with history. Colonialism dismantled indigenous governance structures, imposed arbitrary borders, and created extractive economies meant to serve European powers. Many African states inherited weak institutions at independence and were immediately faced with Cold War proxy conflicts, debt burdens and the challenge of nation-building across diverse ethnic groups.

The result has been a pattern of instability: civil wars in Liberia, Sierra Leone, Rwanda, and in Sudan. Military coups in Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger and Guinea. Election rigging, corruption, and weak rule of law in many countries. Banditry and insurgency in Sahel and North East Nigeria. These are not theoretical issues. They matter, for economic development, for migration and for how Africans are thought of at home and abroad.

South Africa has not been spared. It has a highly developed infrastructure and democratic institutions, but it suffers from inequality, unemployment rates of over 30 percent, and high violent crime rates. Foreigners often become scapegoats in this environment. They are blamed for taking jobs, operating illegal businesses without permits and fueling crime. The story is familiar: when institutions can’t deliver economic opportunity, the outsider gets blamed.

At its heart, Botha’s argument is about institutions, and the uncomfortable question it raises today. Governance is not just about elections. It is about building systems that protect property rights, enforce contracts, provide public goods and services, and hold leaders accountable. It is a culture in which the rule of law is above tribal loyalty, where constitutional authority is respected and where citizens feel safe and included.

Those institutions still remain weak in many African countries. Courts are slow, or corrupt. Police are underfunded and seen as predatory. Civil Service is politicised. Corruption is everywhere. When the state doesn’t provide security and economic opportunity, informal power structures, ethnic militias, vigilante groups, and criminal gangs fill the vacuum.

South Africa’s xenophobic attacks demonstrate the same deficit. The state has been slow to bring perpetrators to justice. Anti-foreigner rhetoric has been employed by political leaders for political gain at times. Communities don’t believe law enforcement is protecting them, and they take justice into their own hands. This leads to a breakdown of social order similar to the instability seen elsewhere in the continent.

To pose this question is not to endorse Botha’s racism. His worldview was of white supremacy, of domination by any means necessary. History has disproved him in the most fundamental sense: Black Africans have governed themselves since independence, founding countries, universities, companies and cultural institutions. Botswana, Rwanda, Ghana and Mauritius have shown that stable governance and economic growth can be achieved in an African context.

But it is also true that self-government has not delivered the prosperity and unity that the early independence leaders such as Kwame Nkrumah, Julius Nyerere and Patrice Lumumba envisaged. Instead, many African states are trapped in cycles of conflict and underdevelopment. The African Union’s Agenda 2063 speaks of a “peaceful and prosperous Africa,” but the reality on the ground is often different.

South Africa’s xenophobic attacks ignite a hard discussion. And if Africans cannot protect other Africans in their own countries, what does that say about the project of African unity? If economic competition among Africans leads to violence instead of cooperation, how can the continent achieve meaningful integration under the African Continental Free Trade Area?

Botha’s statement was meant to deny Africans agency. The correct response is not to embrace it, but to confront the failures that give it superficial resonance. This means African governments must do more to strengthen institutions, protect migrants and address the economic grievances that fuel xenophobia. It means civil society has to confront hate speech and foster a culture of tolerance. It means citizens must hold leadership accountable for providing governance that works.

It means also resisting the temptation to generalize. The attacks in South Africa are not representative of the views of all South Africans. Many South Africans condemned the violence, offered shelter to foreign nationals and called for solidarity. Just as not all of Africa’s 54 countries are troubled by governance problems, There are islands of stability and progress, which offer a counter-narrative.

The real danger is in silence, in a refusal to acknowledge that something is broken. Africa cannot afford to normalize dysfunction or dismiss criticism as neo-colonialism. With self-determination comes responsibility: the responsibility to build societies that are just, safe and prosperous for all who live within them, no matter their nationality.

Pieter Willem Botha’s words were borne out of prejudice and meant to perpetuate oppression. They should be rejected as they are, a justification for racial exclusion. But the repeated xenophobic attacks in South Africa and the broader governance challenges across the continent demand some honest introspection.

The way forward is not in proving Botha right but in proving him wrong by action. That means building institutions that work, economies that create opportunity, and societies that uphold the dignity of every person, African or otherwise. Until then, the question of Africa’s ability to govern itself will remain open, not because of race, but because of the work of state-building yet to be done.

Africa’s renaissance will not come by ignoring its problems. It will come from facing them, learning from them, and vowing to do better. That is the only answer fitting the future of the continent.