There’s a president, police, and immigration laws. So why are civilians ‘deporting’ foreigners?
South Africa has a constitution, a parliament, courts, a president, and 1,100+ police stations. Yet videos keep surfacing of ordinary civilians in townships and cities rounding up migrants, checking papers, and loading people onto buses.
The question echoing from Accra to Lagos to London: _If the state exists, why are citizens doing the state’s job?_ And does that mean South Africa is now an anarchic state?
WHAT ANARCHY ACTUALLY MEANS
Anarchy isn’t “crime” or “protest.” Political scientists define it as the absence of a functioning state — no monopoly on violence, no enforcement of law, no central authority.
South Africa doesn’t fit that. The government collects taxes. Courts sit. Cyril Ramaphosa signs bills. SAPS makes arrests. Home Affairs deports people — 83,731 in 2024 alone, per official data.
So the state exists. But in parts of Johannesburg, Durban, and Cape Town, it often doesn’t feel that way.
WHY CIVILIANS ARE ‘DEPORTING’ FOREIGNERS
1. Trust gap*: In communities like Diepsloot and Alexandra, residents say they report crimes and illegal immigration but see no action. When SAPS response times average 45 minutes, people form their own patrols. Operation Dudula and similar groups frame themselves as “filling the vacuum.”
2. Economic pain: With unemployment at 32.6% and youth unemployment near 60%, foreigners are blamed for taking jobs, rooms, and trading stalls. That resentment turns into street-level enforcement. A migrant without papers becomes a target, not for Home Affairs, but for a mob.
3. Political signaling: South Africa’s 2024 election saw immigration dominate debate. Parties across the spectrum promised tougher borders. When politicians call migrants “undocumented criminals” on campaign stages, civilians hear permission to act.
THE STATE’S RESPONSE
Government insists it’s not anarchy. Home Affairs Minister says vigilante deportations are illegal. SAPS has arrested members of anti-migrant groups for kidnapping and assault. The president calls it “lawlessness that will be dealt with.”
Yet the same state is stretched. SAPS has 179,000 officers for 62 million people. That’s 1 officer per 346 citizens. In Nigeria it’s 1 per 648. In Ghana, 1 per 900. South Africa is better policed on paper, but townships say they don’t feel it.
Immigration enforcement is also under-resourced. The Lindela Repatriation Centre can hold 4,000. Estimates say South Africa hosts 2.9–4 million migrants. The math doesn’t work, so the street invents its own.
SO IS IT ANARCHY?
No. But it’s something political theorists call “dual sovereignty.” That’s when the state exists, but can’t or won’t enforce its rules everywhere. So other actors — gangs, vigilantes, taxi associations — start enforcing theirs.
Colombia in the 1990s had it. Parts of Mexico have it now. South Africa isn’t there yet, but the symptoms are flashing: civilian roadblocks, mob “courts,” and foreign nationals deported by WhatsApp group, not Home Affairs.
THE GHANA ANGLE
Why should Accra care? Because 120,000+ Ghanaians live in South Africa. In 2008 and 2015, xenophobic attacks sent coffins back to Kotoka. Remittances from SA to Ghana hit $340 million last year. If civilian deportations become normal, Ghana’s economy and families feel it.
There’s also precedent. When states lose monopoly on force, investors leave. South Africa’s FDI fell 40% in 2024. If “Ghana must go” becomes “Ghana must flee,” the whole continent pays.
South Africa isn’t an anarchy. It has a government, police, and immigration law. But when civilians take deportation into their own hands, it’s a warning light: the state’s authority is being contested on the street.
Anarchy is the absence of the state. South Africa’s problem might be the opposite — the presence of too many states. One in Pretoria. Another in the township. And the foreigner is caught between both.