I listened to former president Thabo Mbeki speaking at the 25th anniversary of Nepad (New Partnership for Africa’s Development) event in Cape Town recently.
He used the occasion to address SA’s immigration crisis and forcefully argued that the anti-migrant campaigns in the country are scapegoating African migrants, because in his view, SA’s challenges are rooted in domestic policy failures rather than on undocumented migrants.
He warned that doing so allows the true culprits of governance failures to evade accountability.
It is easy to agree with Mbeki on this because indeed undocumented migrants are not the root cause of SA’s economic and governance failures. Therefore scapegoating vulnerable Africans will not magically fix unemployment, corruption, crime or the collapse of municipalities. The cracks in this country appeared long ago, creating the daily desperation many communities now face.
But I also noticed that he approaches this immigration crisis with a lot of nostalgia of the Africa he once knew and fought for, bound together by shared purpose and deep continental solidarity.
He clearly comes from that generation rooted in a Pan-African ideological framework that sustained the ANC liberation-era politics. His interpretation of today’s crisis is obviously filtered through the moral legacy of the anti-apartheid struggle, where SA relied on the support of African states.
He appears unwilling to acknowledge the extent to which public sentiment on immigration has shifted in SA
The trouble with his framing is that it ignores the generational gap between then and now. Today’s young people are not living in his emotional world of liberation politics.
For many in townships and informal settlements, immigration is not an abstract question of African unity but a daily, lived reality.
It is experienced in overcrowded clinics and schools, and in direct competition with undocumented migrants for informal trading spaces, scarce jobs, and opportunities. In this situation, the language of Pan-African solidarity loses its persuasive power for young South Africans who feel increasingly marginalised within their own country.
I also felt a bit disappointed that Mbeki came across as overly ideological about this crisis and dismissive of how people are responding to it. He appears unwilling to acknowledge the extent to which public sentiment on immigration has shifted in SA.
Anger over the issue now cuts across racial and class lines, with growing support for the deportation of undocumented migrants, stricter enforcement of immigration laws, and stronger border controls.
Even political parties that once tiptoed around immigration are now campaigning on it, because they have read the public mood correctly. By failing to engage seriously with these changing attitudes, Mbeki may be seen as out of touch with the social and political realities shaping contemporary SA.
This shift in sentiment is not necessarily driven by hostility toward foreigners. South Africans are not inherently xenophobic; rather, they are expressing deep frustration with their government that appears unable to put the needs of its own struggling citizens first.
Emerging voices, such as that of Gauteng premier Panyaza Lesufi, suggest a shift away from the liberation-era thinking that Mbeki continues to defend
Every sovereign country regulates who enters, who works, and who stays within its borders. Demanding proper documentation, effective border control, and the deportation of those who enter the country unlawfully, is not inherently anti-African.
It is a basic function of the state, and that is what South Africans are demanding. By failing to acknowledge this, Mbeki could reinforce the perception that the ANC elite remains stuck in the political language of the 1980s and 1990s, while ordinary South Africans are confronted with the far harsher economic realities of 2026.
The immigration crisis has taken on a deeply emotional character in many poor communities. Whether justified or not, many voters associate undocumented migrants with the growing strain on already overstretched public resources.
The danger is that, by failing to engage these anxieties with political sensitivity and nuance, leaders like Mbeki may be doing more harm than good to the ANC, by weakening its position ahead of the local government elections. That’s politically dangerous for the ANC as it stands to lose further ground, particularly in municipalities already under pressure from unemployment, weak service delivery, and escalating social tensions.
Interestingly, there are signs that not everyone within the ANC is comfortable maintaining this traditional line of African solidarity on immigration. Emerging voices, such as that of Gauteng premier Panyaza Lesufi, suggest a shift away from the liberation-era thinking that Mbeki continues to defend. In Gauteng, Lesufi has adopted a noticeably tougher stance on undocumented migrants.
This shift is politically significant because it suggests that some in the ANC, especially younger leaders and those closer to electoral battlegrounds, are starting to see that the party’s traditional ideological stance on immigration may no longer be sustainable under current economic pressures.
SA today is angrier and far more politically volatile than the one Mbeki once led. Therefore, some may be less concerned with defending old ideological positions and focus more on surviving politically as ANC grip on power is slowly weakening.
Thami Dickson is a media professional and commentator on African affairs
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