Should South Africa ‘overhaul’ migration policy?

[Nat Quinn]

The ANC is calling for an ‘overhaul’ of the immigration system. This was the term used by the party’s spokesperson, Mahlengi Bhengu-Motsiri, in a TV discussion with JJ Thabane. This, she said, was a matter of the ‘national interest’.

‘The national interest,’ Bhengu-Motsiri said, ‘needs to be prioritised and the national interest in this case is access to services, health services and all of that that needs to be done to ensure that the gains of our democratic order are really felt by South Africans in the first instance, having conducted an assessment on how illegal immigration has threatened that noble idea.’

Although it attracted a fair amount of attention, this is not a new position for the ANC. A perceived need to deal with immigration – and specifically illegal immigration – has been doing the rounds in the organisation for years. The dangers posed by the phenomenon also have featured prominently among other parties, with impromptu ‘inspections’ of shops owned by foreigners and the staffing of restaurants, and calls for the immediate and unconditional expulsion of those illegally in the country. ‘We’re going to teach the national government how to deal with illegal immigrants,’ said Gayton McKenzie last year, then mayor of the Central Karoo District Municipality.

Immigration has featured prominently among the broader public too. Although by no means universal, polling has shown a strong current of distrust for foreigners and scepticism about the role they play in the country. Afrobarometer, for example, has asked about people’s feelings on living next to particular groups who are unlike them. On ‘immigrants and foreign workers’, close to 28% said they would either ‘strongly’ or ‘somewhat’ dislike it (although some 45% were indifferent and 26% looked at that positively). This identifies around a quarter of the population as harbouring what might be termed ‘anti-foreigner’ impulses; by contrast, only 11% were averse to living next to someone of a different religion, and only 13% to someone of a different ethnicity.

Afrobarometer also inquired about attitudes towards foreign-owned economic activity. Around 55% of respondents were in favour of relying on local firms and entrepreneurs to produce goods. Just under half (48%) supported restricting trade in consumer goods to South Africans. (Revealingly, the question about consumer goods was posed as follows: ‘The government should only allow citizens and companies of our own country to trade in consumer goods, even if this means we will have fewer goods or higher prices.’) Both of these suggest a perception of foreigners as an economic obstacle, and even a willingness to accept some pain to ‘address’ the issue. This is apart from any consideration of violent outbreaks against foreigners (there is a long pedigree of this), or the vitriol that appears on the subject on social media.

False binaries

Too often, discussion around this theme collapses into unhelpful binaries. To be concerned about immigration is to be ‘xenophobic’ with all the negative signifiers this encompasses. To argue for the rights of immigrants is to be insensitive to the hardships of South Africa’s own people. From this flow not so much strictly demarcated positions on the issue as perceptions of what those on the other side think: that they are either small-minded chauvinists who want to erect Chinese walls along the Limpopo (and elsewhere), or they’re all about open borders, come-one-come-all (provided they only settle in someone else’s neighbourhood).

This is unhelpful. It is quite possible to be concerned about the integrity of a state’s borders, and about an unregulated inflow of people (or for that matter, the departure of people) while also recognising benefits that arise from migration and welcoming those whom it brings.

The reality from which any sensible approach to migration arises is that it is a phenomenon intrinsic to human history. People move, singly or in groups, violently or peacefully, freely or under duress. In so doing, they impact the environments – natural, social, economic – into which they move.

The modern world and its transport and communications infrastructure make migration easier than ever before. Its administrative systems, however, are geared at making it fundamentally different. Think about it like this: a world of online information and easy commercial travel can prepare for a new life on the other side of the world. Relocating from Durban to Dunedin has in that sense never been easier – provided, of course, one can navigate the official requirements to cross borders and settle. Four hundred years ago, it’s a dead certainty that inhabitants of either location would have been unaware of the existence of the other. Making the journey would have been hazardous and expensive, and the absence of a bureaucratic state would have made the process a very different one.

Moving parts

Migration is a phenomenon with an infinite number of moving parts.

Some of these relate to the motivations for migration. Some may be seeking better opportunities relative to their home countries (itself something associated with rising internal prosperity and aspirations), others to escape grinding poverty, and others from fear of persecution or the blunt force of conflict. Others may seek a different lifestyle, more congenial cultural or religious surroundings. A single society – think China or Nigeria – might contain several of these dynamics simultaneously.

Others relate to the receiving societies. Do they have a history of openness to the outside world, and a tradition of immigration? What is the state of the economy and of the living conditions of the established population? What about welfare entitlements and the ability of newcomers to access them? Indeed, is the native population homogeneous or culturally diverse?

Then of course, how do these two factors relate to one another. What are the historical and official relationships between two such societies? How are immigrants settled, and are immigrant and native cultures ‘compatible’ with one another? These are sensitive questions, but important ones, and enormous volumes of academic writing over generations have explored them. In the United States of the 19^th Century, despite the country’s openness for (European) immigration, a considerable nativist movement arose, with a particular antipathy to the influx of poor, uneducated Catholics from Ireland and Southern Europe. They were regarded in many quarters as simply not capable of being ‘American’. Through much of the 20^th Century, the same was felt towards Asians, and was reflected in immigration policy. The growth of large culturally distinct Muslim minorities has been a source of concern for many in Western Europe.

Equally important is how migration impacts on economic opportunities and lifestyles. A question of resources and how they are distributed (or perceived to be distributed) can take on the quality of an existential conflict. Complaints that foreigners are prepared to work for lower wages than the native population – or, when in the country illegally, may be hired off the books at minimal pay and with no legal rights – are part of a long-standing discourse with a special appeal to the less affluent, whose opportunities are likely to be most circumscribed. Lest anyone think this is a ‘right wing’ thing, remember that the American labour leader, Caesar Chavez, railed against illegal immigration which he held responsible for undermining the effectiveness of his union’s activity on farms. As he once said: ‘If we can get the illegals out of California, we will win the strike overnight.’

And where concerns around migration and its stresses arise in a democratic host nation, they become an issue that the government ignores at its peril.

It’s fair to say that all these impulses – cultural indigestion, negative stereotyping of outsiders and economic competition in a population in which millions are desperately poor – feature in South Africa and inform the demand for an immigration overhaul.

On the other hand, migration has historically had numerous benefits, also attested to in a large body of scholarship. This may be a matter of the rare talents that particular individuals may be able to offer (the departure of intellectuals and scientists from fascist or communist or theocratic states to liberal and democratic ones are obvious examples), the skills that professionals or artisans can make available, or the entrepreneurial flair and capital that some bring with them. This ‘global competition for skills’ is one that all countries are involved in, whether they realise it or not.

Indeed, in South Africa’s case, a 2018 World Bank study, ‘Mixed Migration, Forced Displacement and Job Outcomes in South Africa’, which examined data from the period 1996 to 2011 found that each employed immigrant produced two jobs for locals. Immigration would, of course, be unwelcome to those who see their own misfortune and interpret the success of immigrants as having come at their expense – whether or not this is accurate. Perception has a political reality of its own.

All in all, an important, complex and touchy issue. Crafting a policy that balances the competing demands, and that is broadly acceptable is a herculean task. South Africa’s National Development Plan put it quite well: ‘If properly managed, migration can fill gaps in the labour market and contribute positively to South Africa’s development. Energetic and resourceful migrant communities can contribute to local and national development, and diverse, cosmopolitan populations are often the focus of cultural, economic and intellectual innovation. If poorly managed, however, the skills and potentials of migrants will be neglected. Migration will remain a source of conflict and tension, and migrants will be increasingly vulnerable, subject to continued abuse, exploitation and discrimination.’

The mechanics of the moving parts

However, if even identifying a broadly acceptable position is difficult, getting that ‘management’ right is arguably an even bigger challenge.

Managing a country’s in- and out-migration assumes engaged political leadership and above all a competent modern bureaucracy: to develop appropriate policy, to police the border, to staff points of entry and to process the various documents and applications that regulate movement and residence.

South Africa has none of these. Policy has never been particularly welcoming to migration, even as the country opened up to the world in the 1990s (statistics from a 2001 article pointed out that in 1990, South Africa received 14 500 immigrants, and only 6 000 in 1999). Talk of reaching out to the broader African continent was always qualified by a primary focus on racially redistributing resources and opportunities within the country; African immigrants, not always popular among the ruling party’s constituency and a potential complicating factor, were a low priority.

Even more highly-prized immigration – the skills and capital stuff – was initially approached half-heartedly. The 2002 Immigration Act, which represented post-apartheid South Africa’s response to immigration, recognised the need for skilled migration. Shortly thereafter, the Joint Initiative on Priority Skills Acquisition – launched in 2006 – promised the import of skills as one of its strategies. Around the same time, critical skills lists started to be produced.

But this itself was problematic. The lists themselves tended to suggest a view of immigration as a reluctant, limited last resort (and they came in for criticism for their lacunae). Much stress was placed on the need for ‘skills transfers’. In other words, it wasn’t enough to get skilled people in. Immigration policy aimed to get them in some way to upskill South Africans. Similar thinking is found in the 2017 White Paper on Migration.

What emerged, then, was an approach that tried to straddle various interests, that was indifferent to migration, and which depended on a highly skilled and motivated state to enforce it.

The last point was always the issue on which migration policy would falter. South Africa’s state simply lacks the ability to enforce its will, and migration policy was no exception. The expense and logistical challenges of policing the country’s 4 862 km of land borders as well as the ports of entry for sea and air travellers made it impossible without the commitment of enormous new resources – something which even well-capacitated jurisdictions like the US or the European Union have found difficult. Cooperation between departments (for example, to monitor the hiring of unlawful migrants) have been undertaken, but it’s not a mode of operation for which the state is engineered.

Add to this, general failings of the state, and its penetration by criminal elements. Human trafficking with the cooperation of officials. and the arrangement of genuine-but-fraudulent documents have been long-standing abuses.

And, as Jonathan Katzenellenbogen has recently discussed on the Daily Friend, German firms have become increasingly frustrated with the lack of despatch in processing their visas – and that the processes are still paper-based, not electronic. A promised remote-work visa scheme, an absolute no-brainer for South Africa, has not yet been rolled out, despite official promises that it would be launched last month. This has been a recurrent complaint from foreign business organisation.

Beyond that, there are numerous anecdotes – several of which are known to this author – of logically inexplicable immigration decisions and a lack of urgency in processing applications and renewals. These include the denial of a permanent residence permit to a foreign academic married to a South African and with a child from the marriage, on the grounds that he might become a burden on the state. He and his family have now decamped to apply their considerable talents elsewhere.

Regional context

Migration policy in South African cannot be divorced from the regional context. South Africa’s economy is the largest in the region, and thus, the most powerful magnet for migration. This is shared, in their own contexts, with the US, EU, Thailand and so on.

South Africa is part of a regional bloc, the Southern African Development Community, which is supposedly working towards integration; questions of cross-border mobility need to be addressed. Moreover, SADC’s membership encompasses a range of states of varying levels of development and stability. That means that some stand to attract migrants, while others would send them. It’s hardly surprising that the three most likely destination countries – South Africa, Botswana and Namibia – are least enthusiastic about opening their doors. (Botswana has instituted a policy of restricting particular types of trade to its citizens, a policy often proposed in South Africa.)

More fundamentally, two states – the Democratic Republic of Congo and Zimbabwe – are very fragile. This has produced not only refugees and migration driven by economic desperation, but that these states are often unable to fulfil their most basic roles in the migration process, notably issuing documents. The phrase ‘undocumented migrant’ – typically understood as a euphemism for someone in a country contrary to its laws – is more often than not literally true. It’s a hard truth: that many would struggle to comply with immigration laws, irrespective of their intentions.

In any event, borders are political features that may or may not be respected. Historically weak states and overlapping social and commercial systems mean that national boundaries do not always provide much of an obstacle to movement, except insofar as the states try to enforce compliance. Communities bridging the border between Mozambique and South Africa are one example, while the considerable back-and-forth by traders to buy and sell stock is another.

So, what does this mean?

The upshot of all this is confusion: a rhetorical commitment to the region, while being distinctly lukewarm in its engagement with it. Responses presuppose capacity that does not exist, either in South Africa or in the country’s interlocutor states. And the reality of South Africa’s regional position calls into question what effect current or proposed policy would have.

The Zimbabwe Exemption Permit – much in the news recently as the government has sought to end it and others have resisted – is a good example of a pragmatic solution that was effectively forced on the state by the weight of realities. (Realities, let it be said, that were occasioned in part by the succour extended to the Zimbabwean regime by its friends in the South African government and the ANC.)

In one way, the demand for an ‘overhaul’ of immigration policy makes sense. Current policy is not working, at least not in the sense that it has satisfied anyone.

To get something workable, three realisations are in order. The first is, to paraphrase American academic Philip Martin, that migration is not a problem that a government will solve, but an inevitable process that it needs to manage. It is also something that will lead to change. Those are realities.

Secondly, it is a legitimate subject of democratic contestation. Recognising the inevitability of migration does not imply that its volume or terms should be closed for discussion. False moralistic binaries need to be discarded.

That being said: thirdly, the country’s leadership needs to be realistic about what can be achieved, and to communicate it clearly. This means accepting some hard choices. Greater focus on securing the border and deporting those in the country unlawfully will require expenses that will need to be drawn from other priorities. Allow that debate to take place.

‘Overhauling’ policy is a relatively easy matter, and will be pointless if it cannot be implemented. A new Border Management Authority has been established, a statement of sorts that the government is resolute in its determination to secure the country. Given the widespread dysfunction in the South African state, there is reason to be sceptical about this. Unless the government is willing to provide the staff and resources, and to demand a level of professionalism and probity that is generally lacking, it’s hard to see what difference this would make.

Even with far more efficient border management, the best that could be envisaged would be to reduce illegal entries; they cannot be halted. There is an element of pointlessness to this, although given the political sensitivities around the issue, the authorities will have to continue doing what they can.

Nevertheless, limited gains are possible. An obvious area is to simplify and expedite the issuing of visas for those with skills and capital. South Africa is no longer a choice destination for immigrants, and a more expansive approach to those with the potential to make contributions should be adopted. With qualifications for entry, such as a modest business investment, holding a university degree or a certified artisanal skill, and no criminal record, an initial residence permit should not be onerous. Applications should be easy and cheap to lodge and should be digitised.

South Africa does need to accept realities of regional migration. A simple, long-term, multiple-entry visa could be offered to traders from the subcontinent and those with family in the country, to enable them to make regular cross-border trips.

At the same time, there are moral responsibilities and treaty obligations to those who have been displaced and are seeking refuge. These should be treated with compassion, although it must be conceded that there is a fine line between those seeking to escape the poverty and hopelessness of a damaged country and those fleeing conflict or fear of persecution. Here there are no simple answers, and the concern would be that refugee status would be a de facto open door. In terms of legal precedent, the Watchenuka judgement, applicants for asylum are allowed to work and study: something which the White Paper says ‘overwhelmed’ the system. In the absence of an alternative plan for either the state or applicants, this is probably the only option immediately available. (Interestingly, those awaiting work permits – even those in employment where a renewal is delayed – may not work.)

In the longer term, some experimentation with other policy possibilities. Some suggestions might be found in the 2017 study by Alexander Betts and Paul Collier, Refuge: Rethinking Refugee Policy in a Changing World.  Its thinking draws heavily on that sparked by the Syrian refugee crisis, and considers options for providing livelihoods, contributions to their host countries and a route to build skills, save money, operate businesses and ultimately keep people connected to their aspirations for their home countries. The book offers suggestions for refugee centres to be organised as Special Economic Zones where the (sometimes considerable) talents of refugee communities can be harnessed for their benefit.

But in a very real sense, the sentiments that Bhengu-Motsiri was channelling will, ironically, not be addressed by migration policy. Migrants have become an easily identifiable lightning rod for a clutch of frustrations around disappointed economic hopes, decaying cities and a lack of faith in the future of the country.

To understand this, Afrobarometer is again instructive. In 2017 it used the survey data from its previous polls to investigate what factors drove xenophobic feeling. It identified three things with a particularly strong influence. The first was the absolute poverty experienced. The second was relative deprivation, in other words how people viewed their circumstances in relation to others. The third was frustration with the government: the sense that the state was uninterested in their wellbeing.

Public concerns about migration are intrinsically linked to the crises of South Africa’s governance and economy. Dealing with each will be necessary when dealing with migration. Each of these needs an overhaul.

 

SOURCE:Should South Africa ‘overhaul’ migration policy? – Daily Friend

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