In this publication, I discuss the stereotypes and negative impressions of Black South Africans by their fellow Black Africans, particularly Ghanaian returnees and social commentators who characterize them as xenophobic. These labels are not only unnecessary and inaccurate; they underscore a persistent misinterpretation of Black South African history and culture by other Africans and, by extension, non-Africans.
Using class analysis as an analytical tool, I argue that the calls for the expulsion of non-Black South Africans from South Africa, both before and after June 30, 2026, were primarily driven by the inequitable distribution of resources and perceived incidences of crime, and the resulting frustration and desire to address these problems—however unconventional the methods. Leaders of the “Dudula” or the “March and March,” their supporters, financiers, and hidden special interests sought to exploit a volatile situation to pressure the African National Congress government.
Labelling Black South Africans as “uneducated and lazy,” as I have heard some Ghanaians state on social media, without an in-depth understanding of Black South Africa’s history before, during, and after apartheid, plays directly into colonial tropes. It perpetuates a false narrative about Black South Africans among other Africans and non-Africans alike; a divide-and-rule approach Kwame Nkrumah warned against. This intricate web, woven by the architects of the (neo)colonial project, is now activated by special interest groups and covert actors who seek to pit Africans against one another while the oppressor broadcasts images of Black barbarity and savagery across the international media.
I write as an independent public scholar, aware that this essay may provoke strong reactions, particularly among some Ghanaian politicians and social commentators who have made a career out of misdiagnosing the causes of violence and calls for the expulsion of “foreigners” from South Africa. Rather than seeking to understand the root causes, many opt for the most convenient route: assigning blame without first mastering the complexity behind the calls to rid South Africa of “foreigners.” Equally troubling are some Ghanaian journalists who arrive at television stations with suitcases of documents, posing as experts on Black South African history, yet demonstrating little knowledge of the country’s history, peoples, or cultures.
I write this paper in hopes of generating a Socratic conversation on the issue, not out of contempt for the Ghanaian Foreign Minister, Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa, whose initial handling of the matter—adopting megaphone diplomacy—has diminished Ghana’s stature as the Mecca of African foreign policy. Figures like Kwame Nkrumah, Kofi Annan, and Phillip Gbeho championed African-centred diplomacy to prevent external interference and manage volatile issues between African nations without sparking unnecessary tensions.
Mr. Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa’s reaction was, perhaps, to be expected; it demonstrates how far Ghana has shifted from seasoned diplomacy to reactionary, superficial responses—turning what could have been a quietly resolved issue into a public inferno and burning bridges with the South African government, with whom Ghana has enjoyed excellent relations due to shared histories of anticolonial struggle. Today, the Ghanaian Foreign Service and diplomatic corps are but a shadow of their former selves, staffed by party loyalists and appointees with little to no diplomatic training or credentials.
While the actions of the supporters of “Dudula” and “March and March” must be condemned in the strongest terms—rightly so, for usurping state authority in law enforcement and committing violence against “foreigners”—it is also important to note that Black South Africans are not historically xenophobic or Afrophobic. On the contrary, they have often welcomed their fellow Black Africans. This welcoming spirit is captured in the song “Stimela” by the late Hugh Masekela. The wealth of South Africa—especially White capital and the mining sector—would not have been possible without migrant labour from Mozambique, Malawi, Lesotho, and Swaziland, whose workers endured harsh conditions in the mines and single-men’s quarters, helping to build South Africa into the continent’s most developed nation-state.
From a class analysis perspective, the recurring flare-ups and calls against “foreigners” are rooted in South Africa’s economic downturn, reflected in declining job opportunities for Black South Africans and crimes alleged to be committed by non-South Africans—chiefly drug and sex trafficking, and the proliferation of spaza shops (convenience stores) selling expired goods and lacking proper documentation. As the South African economy stagnates and the government fails to improve conditions, non-Black South Africans become easy targets—the proverbial low-hanging fruit. For many South Africans, witnessing other Africans succeed amid widespread hardship, and believing (rightly or wrongly) that such success is due to illicit activities, became intolerable. Ghana herself is not immune to such actions, as seen in the expulsion of Nigerian nationals in the late 1960s under the “Aliens Compliance Act” and in more recent times.
Mr. Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa’s remarks that returnees would be welcomed as heroes, not orphans, were poorly chosen. His comments about Ghana’s contributions to South Africa’s liberation movements, though factually accurate, were simplistic. Meeting returnees at Kotoka International Airport with government officials and hugging children for publicity seemed more about boosting his social media profile and courting votes than addressing the issue seriously. His open exchanges with his South African counterpart—debating the number of Ghanaians killed, causes of death, and how many Ghanaians were living illegally in South Africa—were reckless.
For advocates of African unity, such behaviour undermines the sibling spirit and amity that have long defined Ghana’s reputation for peaceful conflict resolution and Pan-Africanism, principles that remain central to its foreign policy. This raises a pressing question: What will become of the thousands of undocumented Ghanaians currently stranded in South Africa, and what plans does the Ghanaian government have for their evacuation? Apparently, there is no concrete plan, likely due to financial, logistical, and practical complexities—a problem that might have been more effectively addressed through quiet diplomacy. While I do not suggest the South African government is blameless in the violence against foreigners, as shown by its inadequate response and irresponsibility from some officials, Ghana could have taken the higher diplomatic ground to mitigate the fallout.
The Ghanaian government should exercise caution when faced with calls—both domestic and international—to take the South African government before the African Union or the International Criminal Court. Ghana must resist the temptation to drag a sister African nation to a court designed to humiliate African leaders and countries disliked by former colonial powers and those seeking to balkanize Africa. Such a move would deal a severe blow to African unity, a project that, despite its flaws, continues to foster a sense of solidarity and a unified African voice. As Nkrumah warned, powerful forces—particularly from the West and certain interest groups—seek to divide Africa, seducing its leaders with promises of aid and development while deploying neocolonial strategies to fragment the continent.
Furthermore, the Ghanaian government’s cancellation or deferment of President Cyril Ramaphosa’s request to address tensions between Ghana and South Africa was unnecessary. The deep, symbiotic relationship between these two nations is rooted in their shared struggle for liberation. Ghana’s contributions extended beyond financial support and educational opportunities for students from frontline states; it also provided diplomatic cover for the African National Congress under Nelson Mandela and the Pan-Africanist Congress under Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe, and facilitated the safe movement of South Africans such as Joe Modise, Tokyo Sexwale, and others during their darkest times.
There is far more that unites Ghana and South Africa than divides them. Nkrumah’s Ghana, respected in both the Pan-African fraternity and the broader international community, must take the initiative to reach out to South Africa. Assisting South Africa in calming tensions and preventing further violence against fellow Africans is the way forward. Despite South Africa’s status as an economic powerhouse and a source of pride for the continent, the nation remains fragile.
In post-apartheid South Africa and postcolonial Africa more broadly, both foreign and domestic opportunists await the chance to exploit a weakened, divided continent. The courage to resolve conflicts, no matter how difficult, lies within the character of Ghanaians and their government. Ghana should reach out to South Africa to address this tension directly. Both governments are fully capable of resolving the issue and must not be distracted by geopolitical actors whose intentions, like the Greeks bearing gifts, are to divide and exploit Africa’s resources and people. Ghana and South Africa must demonstrate to the world that Africa is capable of solving its own problems. While the actions of “March and March” supporters were uncivilized and deserve condemnation, the Ghanaian government—especially the Foreign Ministry—overreacted.
