The streets of downtown Johannesburg run with a different kind of currency tonight. Not rand, not dollars, but blood and fury. Anti-migrant riots have erupted across the city's commercial heart, with mobs targeting shops and homes belonging to Somali, Ethiopian, and Congolese nationals. The violence, now entering its third day, has left at least three dead and dozens injured. Sources on the ground say the trigger was a fatal taxi dispute, but the underlying current is a familiar one: economic desperation dressed in the rags of nationalism.
South Africa, with an unemployment rate hovering around 34 per cent, has become a pressure cooker. Young men with nothing to lose are finding scapegoats in the thousands of migrants who fled war and poverty to seek safety here. The police response has been timid at best. Officers watch as looters cart away sacks of maize and second-hand clothing. One shop owner, a Somali who gave only his first name, Ahmed, told me: 'They tell us to go home. But home is gone. This is home now.'
Downing Street has stirred from its slumber. A Foreign Office spokesman released a carefully worded statement urging 'calm and restraint' and calling for protection of 'all communities.' It is the kind of language that means everything and nothing. Behind the scenes, Whitehall sources confirm that the Commonwealth Secretariat has been placed on standby. The fear is that if the violence spreads to other provinces, the entire Commonwealth framework in southern Africa could destabilise.
But let us not pretend this is a surprise. For years, researchers at the Institute of Security Studies have warned that South Africa's failing economy and porous borders would create a perfect storm. The ruling African National Congress has been too busy fighting internal battles over corruption to enforce immigration policy. Now the chickens have come home to roost.
I sat down with a man in a dusty law office in Pretoria. He spoke on condition of anonymity, because he fears for his job. He works for a non-profit that assists asylum seekers. 'The government has no plan,' he said. 'They react to crises. They do not prevent them. And the ordinary people, they suffer.'
The timing is exquisitely bad. South Africa is meant to host a Commonwealth trade summit next month. That summit is now in jeopardy. Diplomatic cables have been flying between London, Cape Town, and Abuja. The UK's High Commissioner to South Africa is reportedly pressing for a joint statement from Commonwealth member states. But unanimity is hard to find when some of those states themselves have poor records on migrant rights.
The violence has an online dimension too. Social media channels are buzzing with misinformation. A video circulating on WhatsApp claims to show Zimbabwean nationals dancing on South African flags. The clip is old and has no connection to the current unrest, but that does not matter. It fuels the flames.
I walked through the looted stalls of Jeppestown tonight. The air smells of tear gas and burning rubber. An old woman sits on a plastic crate, clutching a photograph of her son. He migrated to South Africa in 2010, found work as a security guard. Now he is hiding in a police station, too afraid to come out. 'I have nothing,' she says. 'They took everything.'
For now, the UK offers words. But if this fire spreads, words will not be enough. Someone needs to understand that when you push people to the edge, they push back. And the edge is coming closer every day.
