Since the fall of Apartheid in 1994, South Africa has served as a shining example for the rest of the African continent. It is Africa’s second-largest economy, home to Africa’s best universities and the continental office of many Fortune 500 companies. For the rest of the continent, South Africa is the promised land, and each new crisis or famine brings a fresh new wave of refugees, desperate to work any job for a pittance or a bowl of food. However, despite its “Rainbow Nation” moniker, South Africa has proven to be a nation hostile to foreigners. Xenophobic attitudes run rampant throughout the population, and racially-charged outbreaks of violence have plagued the nation post-Apartheid. Brutal beatings and mob lootings happen frequently in townships where many immigrants live alongside black South Africans.

In February 2017, Nigerians living in the capital of Pretoria were targeted by angry mobs destroying their homes and businesses. The worst outbreak of violence in recent years was in May of 2008, when South Africa was rocked by a violent series of xenophobic riots that broke out across the nation. Neighbors turned against neighbors as mobs took to beating, raping, and looting en masse in the townships. By the end, 62 people were dead, dozens were raped, and more than a hundred thousand were displaced. The riots were undeniably xenophobic in nature; common phrases heard during the attacks included ‘We do not want foreigners here. They must go back to their country,’ ‘Phuma amakwerekwere, phuma!,’ ‘Foreigners must go away!,’ and ‘Go back to Zimbabwe!’ The attacks were perpetrated by poor black South Africans on not only fellow black Africans, but also Chinese and South Asians. Most victims were foreigners, but a third were South Africans who had married foreigners, refused to participate in the riots, or had the misfortune of not appearing South African enough. Racial tensions reached another boiling point in April 2015, when a wave of xenophobic violence killed seven and displaced more than five thousand. Archbishop Desmond Tutu, a winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, condemned the violence: “(We are) witnessing hate crimes on a par with the worst that apartheid could offer.”

How did South Africa, the “Rainbow Nation,” become such a violent, xenophobic society? In Nelson Mandela’s 1994 presidential inauguration speech, Mandela proclaimed “never again shall it be that this beautiful land will again experience the oppression of one by another.” One of the most famous phrases in the South African Constitution is the line “South Africa belongs to all who live in it, united in our diversity.”

After the fall of Apartheid, South Africa attracted (and continues to attract) people from all across Africa fleeing conflict or seeking to improve their fortunes – Congolese, Ethiopians, Malawians, Mozambicans, Nigerians, Somalis, and Zimbabwean, among others. Poor black South Africans, however, have come to see outsiders as threatening to their own post-Apartheid success. The promised post-Apartheid renaissance for marginalized black South Africans never arrived; instead, the government is widely perceived as having failed to address both economic crisis and mounting societal unrest.

Over the past two decades, being “South African” has become an exclusive identity; for poor blacks, their citizenship status and right to be represented by a democratic government are the only fruits of labor earned from decades of struggle, and the disillusioned citizens are increasingly seeking answers and finding scapegoats in populist, Apartheid-era ethnic solutions. South Africa has become a country where citizenship is differentiated between nationals and foreigners, and it is exclusionary, rather than inclusionary. Xenophobia, deeply entrenched in roots of South Africa from its Apartheid past, is being used as a convenient scapegoat for failed economic revitalization and has been seized upon by the disenfranchised poor masses as a form of superior social currency against “invading” foreigners.

Economic Failure

Under Apartheid, the economic opportunities and internal mobility of black South Africans were highly restricted. Blacks were deemed “foreign natives” who had to remain in their “homelands,” or bantustans. At the same time, South Africa’s booming gold, diamond, and other mining industries heavily recruited cheap migrant labour from neighboring Lesotho, Mozambique, Swaziland, Botswana and Malawi. Even before the fall of Apartheid, however, the mining industry began to decline; mining centers collapsed, jobs were lost, and fierce competition arose for the few mining jobs left. After the fall of Apartheid, the ruling African National Congress (“ANC”) unleashed a slew of initiatives aimed at empowering poor black South Africans, such as the 1994 “Building the Nation Program.”

However, South Africa has struggled to transform its economy to include its poor, low-skilled laborers: South Africa’s unemployment rates have remained relatively constant since 1998, GDP per capita has actually decreased annually since 2011, and the GINI coefficient – an indicator of economic inequality – remains one of the highest in the world. In the year leading up to the explosive May 2008 attacks, according to South Africa’s annual Development Indicators Report, the official HIV infection rate in 2007 stood at 11% of the population, the expanded unemployment figure stood at almost 38%, and 41% of the population lived on less than R367 (approximately £26) per month.

Concurrent to its economic challenges, South Africa has experienced continual increases in population size and foreign immigration which have led to a segmented labor market and ethnicized political economy. Significant push – pull factors contribute to South Africa’s linear population growth rate; push factors include the region’s continued violence, such as crisis in neighboring Zimbabwe and endemic poverty, and pull factors include South Africa’s historical and contemporary status as the regional economic powerhouse and a strong market for foreign labor. A segmented labor market has formed as these undocumented immigrants can be employed at lower wages since they do not require the benefits afforded citizens when directly competing in lower-wage sectors of the economy.

These trends have led to a highly ethnicized political economy: poor black South Africans, who have failed to see the promises of the post-Apartheid “renaissance” materialize, are angered by foreigners who they perceive to be stealing their jobs, housing, and government services and resources while they are more entitled, while wealthy South Africans – both black and white – resent “paying taxes to provide shelter and services to people seen to be pouring into South Africa to escape political incompetence and economic mismanagement further north.” Mounting frustration from poor and economic elites alike helped to not only ignite the tensions that led to the outbreak of xenophobic violence in 2008 and 2015, but also guaranteed the lack of high-level response addressing structural inefficiencies and other causes deeply rooted within the South African economy.

Social Failure

The creation of the modern South African state and South African citizenship necessitated a conceptualization of the “other,” the non-South African, which inevitably drew upon Apartheid’s legacy of racial discrimination. Apartheid, the structural coding of ethnocentrism by legally establishing the superiority of whites, led to the forceful ghettoization of racial groups and normalized racial discrimination.

Under Apartheid, the state feared that the larger the urban African proletariat, the greater the concomitant threats to the country’s political stability and industrial peace. The underlying assumption was that foreigners and human mobility were a threat to the nation’s prosperity; this perpetuated the use of geographic and cultural origins to determine utility and claims towards citizenship. Origin and race-based discrimination has continued post-Apartheid, as poor South Africans’ economic grievances against foreigners, the widening socioeconomic gap, and overall lack of upward mobility for those at the bottom has fed into a national sense of deprivation and negative discourse “othering” foreigners, or the “Makwerekere.” Poor black South Africans perceive foreigners as having unfairly exploited South Africa’s resources which undermines their own success, and this has been seized upon as the cause for the continued problems of poor black South Africans. Mobility has become a menace and a threat to the state; immigrants, thus, are now a convenient scapegoat for poor service delivery, crime, and other pathologies.

Negative discourse continues to fashion migration as a security threat. As mentioned earlier, immigration is argued to be an economic threat to prosperity; by taking away jobs, immigrants will further weaken the country’s economic potential and further burden a country struggling to reconstruct post-Apartheid. Researchers have argued that there is a cycle of antagonism and exclusion that perpetuates a lack of social inclusion: because South Africans view foreigners as threatening to their socio-economic prospects, they treat them poorly, and in turn many foreigners anticipate being treated badly by South Africans and subsequently form stronger bonds within their own networks, impeding the potential reconciliation of cultural divides. Contemporaneously, a sense of crisis – there being an overwhelming “flood” of immigrants – was introduced alongside the stereotyping of foreigners as illegal migrants, job takers, criminals and disease agents.

Institutional Failure

After the fall of Apartheid, South Africa’s new ruling African National Congress (ANC) faced a formidable laundry list of challenges. Tasked with dismantling the legacy of Apartheid and creating the equal-opportunity “Rainbow” South Africa they had campaigned on, the ANC experienced economic woes beset by political infighting which plagued productive societal discourse and reform. Overcoming decades of structural oppression and segregated systems requires a strong, unified government effort and well-developed policy planning, implementation, and strategic assessment.

Unfortunately, the South African government has failed in its task. Instead, ineffective, failed legal institutions have exacerbated xenophobic tensions and allowed for violence to act as a proxy for state sovereignty and control. The government suffers from internal schisms, poor interpretation and implementation of immigration legislation, and crippling inefficiency that hampers not only its ability to effect economic growth but its overall ability to govern and address xenophobic attitudes.

In studying the history of South African immigration policy, the shortcomings become evident immediately. As a regional economic powerhouse, South Africa has long attracted migrants from across the continent seeking employment, particularly low-skilled, low-wage foreign laborers to work in its booming Apartheid-era mining industry. The majority of immigrants were undocumented or came on select temporary work visas with strict regulations curtailing individual mobility. In 1986, the Aliens Amendment Act made it possible for skilled immigrants – especially from East and West Africa – to legally move to South Africa. This made South Africa a haven for those seeking to flee persecution in the home countries.

In 1991, however, the Aliens Control Act – dubbed the last significant Apartheid-era legislation – significantly restricted the status of immigrants; the use of the word “Alien” to describe foreigners immediately implied “otherness” and illegality, and the vagueness of the implementation and enforcement mechanisms empowered ordinary citizens to report foreigners they suspected of breaking immigration laws. In 1998, the Refugee Act recognized refugees as an immigration category and ordered the issuance of asylum to those who could prove political persecution in their home country. Continued international scrutiny of the failings of South Africa’s immigration policy in light of xenophobic incidents and attacks led to the 1999 White Paper on International Migration, which acknowledged the role that skilled migrants could play in filling in critical labor gaps and recognized the potential benefits of migration for South Africa.

However, the White Paper continued to address people who were not South African citizens or permanent residents as “aliens,” estimated the number of illegal immigrants in the country to be 5 million (which was grossly inflated and contributed to a popular perception of “invasion”), and emphasized the importance of training police and local authorities to address xenophobic behavior but provided no clear recommendations for the content of this training and no clear repercussions for the police if they failed to conduct training. After the World Conference Against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia, and Related Intolerance was held in South Africa in 2001, the government founded the National Forum Against Racism and created the Counter Xenophobia Unit, but nothing was ever produced as a result. In 2002, the landmark Immigration Act replaced the term “alien” with “foreigner,” and directly addressed prevailing xenophobic fears about foreign economic integration in the preamble.

However, there has yet to be any clarity or direction on who is performing immigration control and how xenophobia is to be prevented and countered. These responsibilities fell largely onto the Department of Home Affairs and local law enforcement units, which were wholly unprepared to deal with such tasks. Finally, current immigration policy is focused more on internal control and enforcement activities, rather than border control; these policies have not served to constrain undocumented migrants or stem the flow of immigration but rather, have led to a massive increase in forged documentation and police corruption and bribery to escape arrest and deportation.

Law enforcement tends to act in accordance to personal value systems, and are oftentimes indifferent to the welfare of immigrants. Without special training, law enforcement can act as aggravators in sensitive situations, and only serve to contain, not prevent or address, xenophobic violence and attitudes. In fact, South African law enforcement regularly arrested and detained people on the basis of their physical appearance, language, or fitting a certain “profile”; they are also known to refuse to recognize work permits and refugee identity cards while enabling illicit economies and rampant corruption –bribes for freedom are common, as police see foreigners as “mobile ATMs.”

Government failure of responsibility to take the lead in addressing xenophobic attitudes has practically served to legitimize xenophobic violence. A former Minister of Home Affairs, Mongosotho Buthelezi, who was in a prominent position to set the tone of the discourse on immigration, commonly used the term “illegal aliens,” inflated the number of said “illegal aliens” within South Africa, and insisted upon a causational relationship between immigration and poor economic performance: “We are to scramble for resources with these illegal aliens – we might as well forget the Reconstruction and Development Programme,” and “South Africa is faced with another threat, and that is the [South African Development Community] ideology of free movement of people, free trade and freedom to choose where you live or work. Free movement of persons spells disaster for our country.”  In early 2015, Small Business Minister Lindiwe Zulu said “Foreigners need to understand that they are here as a courtesy and our priority is to the people of this country first and foremost.” Even the widely respected Human Sciences Research Council used derogatory terms such as “hordes” and “floods” to describe undocumented migrants in presenting research findings.

Political Failure

The African National Congress, despite being elected on overtures of reform and change, has failed to deliver on its promises, and its lack of response on xenophobic issues has done nothing to quell the violence. The Apartheid-era government partially sustained itself by promoting rivalries between “traditional” tribal authorities and ANC nationalists. When campaigning in the 1994 elections, the ANC evoked religious references when speaking about liberation, as if overthrowing Apartheid would lead South Africa to a promised land. However, the ANC has failed to create effective and responsive forms of government; power has become centralized within the ruling elite, and local governance has suffered.

Over the years, the ANC became perceived as out of touch with poor citizens and having failed to deliver jobs, services, and security. During a period of xenophobic violence in the 1990s, the ANC was decried as being “more concerned with its foreign policy concerns and repairing any damage the attacks might have on their international reputation” than with addressing the root causes of the issues. Through examining the structure of the ANC’s ruling coalition, a major fault becomes clear: in building the coalition needed to win the historic 1994 election, the ANC had to co-opt ethnic leaders such as Zulu King Zwelithini – who espoused a brand of ethnic chauvinism that appealed to young, poor men – by putting them on the state’s payroll as part of a group called the Congress of Traditional Leaders of South Africa, legitimizing the ethno-nationalist politics which the ANC had opposed. King Zwelithini’s xenophobic comments at an event in early 2015 are widely believed to have sparked the second round of riots in April 2015. Disillusioned with the ANC, impoverished black South Africans who are searching for answers to their woes are increasingly looking to leaders like King Zwelithini who champion xenophobic scapegoat solutions. The ANC, facing a popular uprising, recognizes the value in funneling discontentment with itself into xenophobic outlets and deflecting the blame off its own policies. The failure of the South African government, broadly speaking, means that the citizens have taken it upon themselves to act. Poor South Africans’ hostile anti-foreigner attitudes are rooted in their acquisition of full rights and benefits of citizenship; they view foreigners as threatening or undermining their benefits.

A quote from a participant in the 2008 riots reveals his motivations: “We are not trying to kill anyone but rather solving the problems of our own country. The government is not doing anything about this, so I support what the mob is doing to get rid of foreigners in our country.” The lack of commentary by senior political leadership and refusal to acknowledge xenophobia worsens the problem. Even Nelson Mandela, in a speech on the National Day of Safety and Security, once said “the fact that illegal immigrants are involved in violent criminal activity must not tempt us into the dangerous attitude which regards all foreigners with hostility,” which furthered the perception and association of all foreigners not just with illegality but criminality.

Recent Developments

From an analytical standpoint, the South African government has failed to address the recent xenophobic attacks in a constructive or even logical manner. After the violence in 2008, hundreds of thousands fled into temporary immigration camps; then-President Mbeki denounced the camps, which would entrench spatial divisions between foreigners and South Africans and thus formalize the objective division between both; he argued instead in favor of “reintegration”: people should go back to townships and live together with the same neighbors who had attacked them. Yet Mbeki gave no indication as to how to re-integrate, and when a police commissioner was interviewed in Alexandra township – ground zero for the attacks – and asked who was in charge of overseeing reintegration, he responded “My job is stabilization, not re-integration.”

Following the xenophobic attacks in early 2015, the South African government launched “Operation Fiela,” deploying the police and military to combat crime throughout the country in coordinated waves. The timing, right after the attacks, as well as the operation locations in many immigrant strongholds, was tantamount to equating foreigners to criminals; xenophobia had, for all intents and purposes, officially become a politically expedient excuse. Foreigners who were caught in the Operation were granted dubious legal protection; it was likely that people were arrested without cause and deported without legal representation.

Conclusion

After analyzing South African immigration policy and xenophobic attitudes from a historical perspective, it becomes clear that the outbreak of xenophobic violence was part of a legacy left behind by Apartheid and ethnocentrism. The three main failures by the ANC-led South African government (to establish economic growth, social integration, and strong institutions) caused poor South Africans to construct outsiders into bogeymen and scapegoats, and the institutions meant to address inequality not only failed to do so but actually enabled violent xenophobic attitudes. As a discourse, xenophobia – and foreigners – will continue to be an expedient political tool the ANC channels so long as economic issues and political infighting persist in South Africa. Unfortunately, the lopsided victims of the status quo will continue to be the impoverished millions fighting for survival in the crowded townships, who see no solution to their problems and no agency other than through violence. A quote summarizing the situation comes from Nana Mkhonde, a resident in Durban’s impoverished Bottle Brush settlement following the 2015 attacks:

“Our citizens took action because [the foreigners]wouldn’t leave and they were being told they must leave. They came with nothing, they can go with nothing as well. I feel bad because they left crying, but we have no choice…they should go because we have no jobs. I’m a citizen and want to work for 150 rand a day but foreigners will do it for 70 rand a day. In the kitchens and the factories they are taking over our jobs. They bring cheap goods and we don’t know where from. They leave their countries with a lot of skills and we have nothing. Our education is not good enough…The government says it’s wrong because when they give jobs they help themselves. If you don’t have friends in the ANC, you get nothing. What about us? Our government is doing nothing for us. The reason we’re fighting foreigners is because of our government.”[1]

[1] Smith, David. 2015. “Xenophobia in South Africa: ‘They Beat My Husband with Sticks and Took Everything.’” The Guardian, April 17, sec. World news. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/apr/17/xenophobia-south-africa-brothers-violence-foreigners.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors or governors.

A little over a year ago, on March 9, 2015, a student protestor at the University of Cape Town (UCT) threw his own feces at a statue. Without context, this act seems a little ridiculous. However, this was not an ordinary statue: it was of Cecil Rhodes, the famed diamond baron and industrialist, the namesake of the renowned Rhodes Scholarship and an avowed racist. A significant actor in South Africa’s shameful colonial past, he helped disenfranchise millions of Africans from what is now known as Botswana. He also helped craft the framework that eventually resulted in Apartheid. Why then was there a statue memorializing him in front of the most esteemed institution of learning in South Africa? This was the question that UCT student Chumani Maxwele asked last March—albeit via a more unconventional avenue than expected.

Unbeknownst to him, Chumani had begun a movement, which later took on the moniker of “Rhodes Must Fall”. A student collective, Rhodes Must Fall (RMF) portrays itself as a decolonization movement, which looks to free the South African educational system from systemic racism and inequality. From its original goal of taking down a statue, RMF has expanded its scope, moving to schools across South Africa and looking at other issues such as affordable student housing.

RMF has not grown without controversy. In fact, as the movement spreads, the tactics used to portray its message have become increasingly aggressive. In the past three weeks, RMF students erected a tin shack on the campus of the University of Cape Town (UCT), which they deemed “Shacksville”, to represent the systemic repression of black students by denying them affordable housing. The tin shack aimed to draw parallels to the millions of disenfranchised blacks across South Africa who live in townships—slum-like areas that lack access to running water or basic infrastructure. UCT asked RMF to remove Shacksville, and when the group did not comply, the university brought in private security to drive the protestors away. In response, RMF went into dining and residential halls across the campus and burned historic paintings of figures from South Africa’s Apartheid past. That same night, the protestors also set a bus and a research vehicle on fire.

In the midst of this tension, a few important questions must be asked. What is the RMF movement actually trying to accomplish with its campaign for decolonization? Moreover, what does decolonization mean in a modern context? And finally, how can these lessons be taken and applied to similar movements around the globe?

What Does Decolonization Have to Do With It?
What is decolonization? From the University Administrators at UCT to RMF and all the South Africans who support either side, decolonization is a term that is contextualized in very targeted ways. RMF upholds that decolonization is the fall of white supremacy and privilege in South African society. Apartheid may be over, but the economic inequalities that preceded Apartheid remain. Activist organizations such as RMF argue that the African National Congress (ANC), the ruling coalition that took power post-Apartheid, does not do enough to even the playing field between blacks, whites and coloureds (a racial group that is demarcated in South Africa as being somewhere in between black and white). This includes giving property rights to blacks that had their land taken by Boer settlers in the 18th and 19th centuries.

RMF’s definition of decolonization is a shift from the common political conceptions of what decolonization means. Usually decolonization, specifically within Africa, is contextualized in the period after World War II, when many African states gained their independence from colonial nations such as Britain and France. However, colonization did not end upon the removal of Europeans’ heavy hands; many African political institutions still retain their original colonial structures, thus making decolonization incomplete. This lack of political structural transformation is possible because of a successful class of African elites who convince their populations that by shaking off the formal “shackles of colonial rule” they have successfully freed themselves from colonial institutions and bureaucracies. However, in many cases, this is simply an avenue for new forms of economic and social inequality, which are facilitated by elites within the country itself. Within this context, how is one to know when a country is truly decolonized?

The administrators at UCT, the South African government and the developed industrial nations of the Global North think decolonization is complete; yet RMF does not, and they have a tough battle to wage. RMF must convince not only its own nation-state but also the entire Global North that the neo-liberal economic framework that South Africa ascribes to has been rigged from the start. It is this frustration at Eurocentric frameworks that prompted the symbolic act of throwing feces. By redefining the act as a political statement, especially against a prominent colonialist, RMF has demonstrated that decolonization doesn’t just end when a country gains its freedom. Instead, decolonization can only occur through a socio-cultural revolution, as per the ideas of Frantz Fanon (an international relations scholar who looked at the contradictions of decolonization in the 1960s). This need for a socio-cultural “revolution” is the justification that RMF uses for its provocative and intense tactics.

However, many South Africans believe RMF’s tactics to be childish, and non-conducive towards their end goal.  Whether RMF’s aggressive protests work against an entrenched establishment — on the university, state and global level — remains to be seen; however, their tactics provide valuable lessons for other states dealing with institutional racism.

Lessons for Other International Actors
The most pertinent comparison here is between South Africa and the United States. Though the United States was never colonized, the populace still has to deal with similar issues regarding race and inequality that South Africans do. Yet, operating under the assumption that systemic inequality for minorities exists in both states, it is evident that RMF uses more aggressive tactics to achieve its goals in South Africa than comparable movements in the US such as Black Lives Matter (BLM). One reason for this is how inequality is presented in South Africa. In South Africa it is almost impossible not to acknowledge the disparity between those who live in poverty and those who do not. In the United States, inequality is much easier to ignore: there are no Lamborghini’s that drive through slums, no million dollar houses sitting next to camps full of squatters. The sharpness of the wealth disparity in South Africa — one that is directly correlated with race — begs for attention. In the United States, structural inequality is not linked to a discourse about decolonization, and therefore it is harder for a connection between race and inequality to be acknowledged. As much as many Americans would like the sort of frank dialogue that occurs in South Africa, America’s norms about money and race are too separate to ever make that conversation a reality.

South Africa, due to its complicated past, is a microcosm through which one can look at how decolonization can still occur far after a nation-state gains its independence. And, though it is necessary that voices such as RMF challenge the status quo regarding the decolonization discourse, they should not be allowed to act with impunity. RMF’s actions may be showy, but very little institutional change at  UCT — nevertheless the whole country — has actually occurred due to their actions. It turns out that it’s not as easy to tear down hundreds of years of structural inequality as it is to take down one statue. In fact, there are few problems as multidimensional, and challenging. Best of luck.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors or governors.


South Africa’s agriculture industry can breathe a sigh of relief. No, its farming exports will not lose preferential, duty-free access to the US market under the African Growth and Opportunities Act (AGOA)—but for a while, a tense trade dispute with the US cast a shadow over the agreement. The dispute’s aftermath and supposed resolution serves as a reminder that there are still rule makers and rule takers in international trade.

Implemented in 2000, AGOA allows over 7,000 goods produced in thirty-nine Sub-Saharan countries to flow tax-exempt into the US economy. As a reciprocal agreement, AGOA has brought the benefits of trade to growing African economies since enacted, including cheaper goods and access to US markets. So when the two countries announced a deal in June 2015 for 65,000 metric tons of frozen, bone-in poultry to enter South Africa (SA) duty-free, no one expected the ensuing dispute.

On November 6, Obama declared that SA’s preferential treatment under AGOA would be revoked in 60 days if they didn’t approve the first poultry quota—a clear threat. Despite the bilateral agreement, the process of receiving poultry shipments hadn’t moved forward since June, and US poultry producers and trade negotiators had lost patience. They tired of talking through round after round of what looked like red tape hurdles with little progress. Yet South Africa’s meat market harbors a growing and unmet demand—so why the holdup?

South Africa was by no means backing out. But lingering concerns over US issues with Salmonella and avian flu contamination remained unresolved. Periodic outbreaks of serious meat contamination – including recent incidents like E. coli at Chipotle – made South African officials question, but not explicitly reject, the safety risks involved in accepting US meat shipments. The delay was largely associated with technical minutiae as veterinary authorities in South Africa deliberated over affected US areas with the respective diseases, and whether American detection methods were adequate for preventing an epidemic.

But US negotiators were unrelenting. Pressure mounted on South Africa to open its market to US beef, pork and chicken; if they didn’t, the interruption of AGOA would cause key agriculture industries to suffer. Domestic South African groups were incensed, citing the US ultimatum as a coercive, bullying measure. One representative for the Congress of South African Trade Unions called Obama’s threats a “blatant attempt at extortion.” US annoyance with the lengthy health safety clearance process struck a distinct point of South African pride. The South African Poultry Association (SAPA) believes it is unfair for the US to pressure SA to simply accept “whatever lands on their shores,” when SA protocol includes a comprehensive assessment of the production chain.

This dispute and the US ultimatum demonstrate the persistence of Western-led international trade. Despite the rise of new players, and despite so-called reciprocal agreements, the economic interests of the US and other Western countries tend to be prioritized over the barebones survival and interests of others. Small states pay the consequences of unmitigated trade.

But a second trend in international trade might explain why the US is being so pushy. While classic protectionism – tariffs and quotas – is slowly dying, there are alternative measures fueling trade disputes. The root of the American reaction to SA’s health safety caution is a nagging suspicion of disguised protectionism. This can be anything that hurts another country’s commercial interests; it includes measures like government bailouts of domestic companies, wage subsidies, export and VAT rebates, export credits and financing from state-owned banks.

Thanks to these measures, protectionism continues to insidiously sway trade relations. Recent disputes have inspired policies to discourage covertly protectionist measures. Trade officials and regulating bodies like the WTO have a legal infrastructure in place to keep domestic industry laws in check. Many are even embedded in the very same administrative agencies that regulate US industries like food, drugs, agriculture and cosmetics.

Even hidden protectionism, however, does not necessarily afford small or emerging markets any leverage over the trade-dominating powers. While BRIC countries display high figures in covert protectionism, they are by no means the only offenders; larger economies commonly get away with it. For example, the EU rejects GMOs on the basis of uncertain long-term effects. France issued a loan guarantee to the financing arm of automaker PSA Peugeot Citroen. The US still has measures in place to prevent Mexican truck drivers from operating on their highways—not to mention all the padding that cushions domestic agriculture from the global market. In all of these cases there is a blurred line between industrial policy and export subsidy, much like in the AGOA dispute.

SA’s bargaining position is weak faced with the threat of losing the coveted US market. By comparison, the US is unfazed, unthreatened and therefore willing to turn up the heat. In a move reminiscent of a power-hungry time-out, the US is wielding a reminder that it is not to be disrespected. It’s clear who is setting the rules.

Even the most avid proponents of free trade (like the WTO) accept that health and safety standards will always be a trade hurdle. These barriers are necessary to guarantee consumer health and safety—after all, trade policies are influenced by security concerns. The WTO only stops supporting standards when they feel industry interest groups have influenced them beyond justifiable safety concerns or when the standards become discriminatory, i.e. baselessly harmful to one particular country’s industry. In South Africa’s case, though the poultry industry certainly spoke out, it was veterinary authorities who raised concern over the spread of bacteria.

On January 7, South Africa signed off on the meat quota and acquiesced to US pressure. Four days later the US announced it would nevertheless proceed to suspend SA agriculture’s AGOA benefits effective March 15, and would only reinstate them given the first meat shipment made it past customs by this date. Whether the concerns over avian flu and Salmonella contamination were founded or just a hurdle to foreign industry competitors can be argued either way, but the nature of international trade suggests similar friction will persist. Unfortunately, this development only reaffirms that countries with bigger, more powerful markets will continue to dictate the rules for those seeking access to them, whether or not hidden protectionism is employed.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors or governors.

On July 15, during the latest BRICS Summit at Fortaleza, Brazil, the five countries of the BRICS Group (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa) announced the establishment of the New Development Bank (NDB), a new international development bank aimed at assisting international development in the global South. The five countries also agreed on a Contingency Reserve Agreement (CRA), setting aside funds for emergency situations and to solve short-term liquidity crises.

What was once a Goldman Sachs acronym meant for businessmen looking for opportunities to tap new markets has now become a bloc of countries claiming to be the leaders of the developing world. The establishment of the BRICS institutions has given rise to much interest and speculation in the West.

Grievances Against IMF

The NDB and CRA are the latest institutions established in response to the Western-dominated international financial system. Set up at the end of the Second World War to avoid repeating the mistakes of the Great Depression, the Bretton Woods institutions were meant to act as the lender of last resort and provide governance over the international economy. Since then, the Bretton Woods institutions have acquired a rather sour reputation among developing nations.

The perception that the West dominates the Bretton Woods institutions is hard to disprove. Both the IMF and the World Bank are headquartered in Washington, DC. In the World Bank, only the United States holds vetoing power, while in the IMF, the United States alone controls 16.75% of voting power, while the BRICS combined hold only 11.03%.

The Bretton Woods institutions are also accused of acting on behalf of the West as interventionist powers. Whereas the IMF is meant to provide emergency funds in the crisis situations, often aid comes with strings attached. The IMF will subsequently work towards restructuring economies, forcibly opening markets for Western investors and imposing harsh austerity and fiscal responsibility measures. Developing and emerging countries from Brazil and Russia to South Korea and Argentina (where the government recently defaulted much to the ire of American creditors) blame IMF restructuring programs for historical or current economic woes. In the South Korean case, heavy-handed intervention in the aftermath of the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis (1997 AFC) resulted in harsh austerity measures and near-excessive Western acquisition of Korean assets. Public anger against the IMF and perceived economic neo-colonialism remains to this day in South Korea, where the 1997 AFC is called the IMF Crisis.

Dissatisfaction with the current Bretton Woods institutions have left developing countries searching for alternate funding sources. In the aftermath of the 1997 AFC, Asian nations set up a currency swap called the Chiang Mai Initiative to pool resources should another crisis arise. The Bank of the South was established in 2009 also to circumvent use of the Bretton Woods institutions for South American states. However, neither has been used to date. Furthermore, none of these initiatives sought to directly challenge the Bretton Woods institutions on a global scale until now.

The rising power of emerging economies, particularly of China, combined with Western economic debilitation during the 2007-08 Global Financial Crisis (GFC) has convinced the BRICS that they can now carve their own destinies. As the BRICS themselves say, the BRICS combined make up 41.6% of the world’s population, 19.8% of global GDP, 16.9% of total global trade (combined value of exports and imports), and their combined GDPs grew more than 300% in the last decade. They deserve more than 11.03% of voting power and condescending Western negligence.

What’s at Stake

As the BRICS countries come together to establish new institutions, they pledge to do things differently from the Bretton Woods institutions. The NDB will practice an equal voting system, with all of BRICS having one vote in the Bank. The idea is that as collective leaders of the developing world, all should have equal say in NDB matters.

Beneath the façade of cooperation however is an arena broiled in politics. Of particular interest are Russia’s interventionist intentions and Indian and Chinese competition for global leadership.

For Russia, increasing international pressure from the West has forced Russia to look East and beyond for much needed cash and support. The NDB is the perfect candidate for such a support base. Perhaps the NDB will end Russia’s dependence on the Bretton Woods institutions. Should this come to pass, Russia will be more emboldened in its actions knowing it can afford to lose sympathy from the West.

For India, the NDB provides much needed catalyst for Modi’s new presidency. The Modi Administration’s publishing of the first budget had led to some disappointment due to lack of direction. For Modi, this was a chance to re-galvanize enthusiasm for his administration by showing global leadership. Yet, much to India’s disappointment, high expectations for the BRICS institutions have been dashed. India was the party that fought the hardest against China during negotiations, wishing to base the NDB in India rather than China. The compromise was that the first President of the NDB would be Indian, but it is clear that India must look elsewhere to reach its potential and exercise leadership.

For China, nothing short of global leadership is at stake. Being the richest of the BRICS nations, China sees itself as the natural leader of the BRICS and sees the potential to use these new institutions to widen its global influence. The decision to place the headquarters of the NDB in Shanghai as well as China’s large contributions to the CRA clearly signals China’s dominance in the group.

The BRICS Institutions also lend China a much-needed chance to bolster its reputation abroad. China’s aid is notorious for propping up authoritarian states and for turning a blind eye to the benefactors’ human rights abuses. Chinese aid is largely perceived to be merely a tool in China’s overall geopolitical strategy. While it is clear the American government uses aid to further national interest, the IMF and World Bank help “legitimize” American aid, making it more politically palatable. The BRICS institution promises to fulfill the same function for China, with the CRA’s objective of non-interference also matching up nicely with China’s own protocol of non-interference.

Future for the BRICS Institution?

Many see the NDB as a potential rival to the IMF and World Bank. Some may even see it as the latest development in an ongoing Sino-American rivalry, with the newly established Shanghai-based NDB rising to challenge the Washington-backed IMF. Others still, including the World Bank President Jim Yong Kim, believe the new institutions can complement the Bretton Woods institutions.

Whatever the viewpoint, it is clear that there are still many questions going forward for the NDB and CRA. The first concern is simple. There seems to be a lack of overall vision and inner coherency for the NDB and CRA. The BRICS countries indeed have little in common with each other. The starkest difference is that Brazil, South Africa and India are democratic, while Russia and China share authoritarian systems. China’s economy is 28 times the size of South Africa’s. Some have even speculated that the only thing holding the BRICS together is their dealings with China. In contributing to the NDB pot, China had wished to shell out more, but South Africa could only spare $10 bn. Constrained by equal contributions and equal voting power, the Chinese had to lower funding for the NDB from $100 bn to $50 bn, already exposing a potential problem in the BRICS institutions.

Second is a concern over leadership capabilities. None of the five BRICS countries have extensive experience governing multilateral organizations. Perhaps the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) of China, the Eurasian Economic Union (EEU) of Russia, South African participation in the African Union and Brazilian participation in Mercosur may count as multilateral experience. However, the former two are seen as extensions of national ambitions rather than true instances of multilateral governance, while all of the mentioned organizations are restricted in their membership by continental and regional lines. In terms of leading a global front, all five BRICS will find themselves experimenting and improvising, without the IMF’s wealth of experience gained from decades of consensus building and programs.

Another valid question is whether the BRICS Bank merely reflects the Beijing Consensus. Considering clear Chinese dominance of the BRICS, speculation arises as to whether China through the NDB will truly provide a voice for emerging economies, or whether the NDB is only an extension of China’s national ambitions. The BRICS countries accept Chinese leadership only with great caution. While all are eager to use the BRICS institution as an expedient way to gain access to Chinese cash, they are mistrustful of Chinese intentions in leading the BRICS institution. The levels of mistrust combined with the lack of coherence leads to serious questions about the potential effectiveness of the institutions.

Finally, the effectiveness of NDB and CRA themselves are in serious question. Both the NDB and CRA have small cash pools, with $50 bn and $100 bn respectively. While the NDB seeks to provide developmental loans to the developing world, development projections by the World Bank for South Asia alone estimates $2.5 trillion over the next 10 years. Argentina’s recent default saw it drop about $15 bn in debt. Should Argentina, along with many other developing countries, look to the NDB and CRA for an IMF workaround, those institutions would likely face such challenges.

It’s still far too early to predict the trajectory of the newly established BRICS institutions, but its clear that many challenges still remain. If the BRICS institution can gain traction and become a powerful international financial institution, it might very well become the IMF’s next competitor or partner, depending on whatever trajectory the BRICS set. It’s difficult to tell whether the BRICS institutions will become an extension of Chinese economic diplomacy, a formalized way to gain access to Chinese funds, or a truly multilateral institution reaching out to the developing world and providing an alternate voice to a global economy dominated by Bretton Woods.

The views expressed by these authors do not necessarily reflect those of the Glimpse from the Globe staff, editors, or governors.

On December 5^th, a chilling announcement made by South African President Jacob Zuma was quickly heard worldwide: Nelson Mandela (95 years old) had died.

The former revolutionary in the movement against South Africa’s National Party’s apartheid regime, and later President of South Africa left behind a legacy that will likely remain unparalleled by other world leaders for some time to come. While some mourned the loss of the Nobel Peace Prize-winning global icon who committed his life to peace, compassion and forgiveness, others snubbed the passing of a coldblooded ‘communist’ murderer who was imprisoned for 28 years and was considered a ‘terrorist’ by the United States until only five years because of his anti-apartheid involvement.

Regardless of whether you’re on the cheering side or on the jeering side, the fact stands that Mandela’s leadership had a global impact making him one of the most influential world leaders to date. But it seems that even in light of his recent death, our own leaders cannot look beyond partisan divides and quarreling. Consider the Obama-Castro handshake at the memorial; a civil and brief greeting between the two leaders led right-wing conservatives to label the gesture as despicable, traitorous conductwhile liberals dubbed it a thawing of tensions.

Despite the geographic proximity, the United States maintains a distant relationship with Cuba having severed diplomatic relations over fifty years ago when Raul’s brother Fidel assumed power. Contrary to the imagination of those lambasting the handshake, there was no political game at play – the handshake was merely a handshake. Period. What else was Obama supposed to do? Completely ignore Castro’s presence and rebuke him? It was appropriate for Obama to shake hands with another world leader while attending the memorial of the world’s greatest symbol for peace.

In spite of being raised by their parents to always shake hands when meeting or greeting someone, Republicans felt the urge to immediately slap a partisan sticker on the situation. Senator John McCain even likened the handshake to that between British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain and German Third Reich leader Adolf Hitler in the lead up to WWII – a completely inappropriate and exaggerated analogy. McCain even dared to note that the leader of the freest country in the world has no business shaking the bloodstained hand of a ruthless oppressor who is “keeping Americans in prison.” Well, Senator, there are just two minor faults in your statements. First, have you ever heard of the Gitmo? Second, may we remind you that you not only shook hands with, but also spent a ‘late evening’ with, the late dictator Muammar Gaddafi at his ranch in Libya. You then tweetedabout it. Apparently Obama’s courteous handshake with Castro was more deserving of condemnation than McCain’s play-date with Gaddafi.

Let’s consider three more historic presidential handshakes with other less tans savory leaders. The handshake between British Prime Minster Winston Churchill, U.S. President Harry Truman and Soviet Communist Party General Secretary Joseph Stalin at the 1945 Potsdam Conference was designed to symbolize that communist and non-communist interests could be set aside in the wake of Nazi Germany’s collapse. The image was supposed to capture an alliance determined to move forward.

And then there’s the Reagan-Gorbachev handshake. In 1998 at St. Catherine’s Hall at the Kremlin, President Ronald Reagan shook hands with Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev before their final summit meeting. The planned handshake symbolized the first meeting between the U.S. and USSR in six years and marked the start of a thawing in bilateral relations.

All three of these handshakes between American Presidents and foreign strongmen were carefully constructed to convey a specific message in a specific context. On the contrary, Obama’s handshake with Castro was unplanned; it was simply a display of courtesy and nothing more. There was no predetermined plan for the two to encounter each other and shake hands in front of the camera and we are unlikely to witness any change in bilateral relations with Cuba. In fact, it would have been extremely inappropriate had Obama not greeted Castro at Mandela’s memorial; Obama shook hands with each leader he encountered which was the appropriate, civil thing for a world leader to do while honoring a man who stood for peace and compassion. It is inappropriate for certain individuals in the media and Congress to be spinning the memorial of the South African leader into a groundless and ludicrous controversy over a non-event between two men with hands. Those shouting at the gesture need to get a handle on the broader message before us all, that being Mandela’s legacy.