By Gillian Schutte and Sipho Singiswa
The controversy surrounding Chidimma Adetshina, a former contestant in Miss South Africa 2024, has ignited a fierce and polarised discourse, marked by both blatant prejudice and ardent support.
Despite advancing to the top 11 finalists, Adetshina’s participation became mired in public protests questioning her nationality. What could have been relegated to a mere pageant scandal evolved into a broader debate surrounding identity, nationality, and inclusivity within the context of South Africa. Her experience, therefore, serves as a catalyst through which the nation grapples with the intricate dynamics of power, discipline, and resistance in its contemporary landscape.
The simplistic label of Xenophobia and its Deeper Roots
Predictably, the dominant liberal narrative was quick to label the backlash against Adetshina as xenophobia - a simplistic position that fails to engage with the deeper, more complex realities of neocolonial exploitation, economic dispossession, and the selective application of moral outrage.
Rather than exposing the underlying mechanisms of control and subjugation that underpin these issues, and how the state, civil society, and elite liberalism perpetuate xenophobic sentiments under the guise of promoting tolerance and inclusivity, the discourse degenerated into a performative spectacle on social media.
Liberals engaged in virtue signalling, faux revolutionaries attempted to squeeze this multifaceted problem into the framework of Pan-Africanism, while enraged Black South Africans cast Adetshina as the emblem of their collective grievances.
Foucault’s Regime of Truth: Discipline and Identity Policing
Social theorist Michel Foucault's concept of the body as a site of power relations is particularly relevant in understanding how Adetshina’s participation in the Miss South Africa pageant has been subjected to discipline and scrutiny.
Her body, far from being merely an individual entity, becomes a canvas upon which societal norms and expectations are inscribed and enforced.
The public debate surrounding Adetshina’s nationality is not merely a question of legal status; it is an exercise in maintaining the boundaries of the nation-state, delineating who is deemed to belong and who is not.
This policing of identity forms part of what Foucault describes as a “regime of truth” - a system in which certain truths are produced, disseminated, and maintained to reinforce existing power structures.
In this context, the notion of who qualifies as a legitimate South African is not an objective truth; it is constructed through media narratives, public discourse, and state interventions that discipline the body and regulate identity.
The selective outrage and conversely, the moralistic defence directed at Adetshina, exemplify how this regime of truth functions to preserve societal hierarchies.
Commodifying Xenophobia: A Tool of Control
Moreover, this regime of truth is sustained by the commodification of xenophobia. Non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and civil society actors, under the guise of anti-xenophobia campaigns, amass significant funding and shape narratives that perpetuate the idea that Black South Africans are inherently xenophobic.
These campaigns do not aim to dismantle the underlying structures of oppression but rather reinforce them, portraying Black South Africans as morally deficient and socially regressive.
This discourse, therefore, becomes a tool of discipline, ensuring that the majority remains subjugated within the neocolonial order. Tragically, Adetshina herself becomes a casualty of this nexus of frustration and false consciousness, as her story is co-opted by forces that seek to maintain control rather than address the root causes of societal discontent.
The Miss South Africa Pageant: a reflection of racial hierarchies
The Miss South Africa pageant, historically dominated by white and coloured contestants, exemplifies the racial hierarchies that continue to persist in South African society.
Black African South African women have long been overshadowed in this competition, their beauty and identities often marginalised by Eurocentric standards that have been deeply ingrained through decades of colonialism and apartheid.
This lack of representation extends beyond aesthetics; it impacts the self-esteem and cultural validation of Black African women across the country, who struggle for visibility and recognition in a society where their narratives are often suppressed.
Fanon’s Lens: Internalised Oppression and the Colonial Gaze
French psychiatrist Frantz Fanon’s analysis of colonialism and its psychological effects provides a critical lens for understanding the reaction to Adetshina and the broader discourse on xenophobia.
Fanon posits that colonialism implants within the colonised a deep sense of inferiority, leading to internalised oppression and the adoption of the coloniser’s gaze. In South Africa, this manifests as a desire to purify the nation by excluding those perceived as “other.”
The backlash against Adetshina, with its focus on her nationality and the insistence on her exclusion from the national identity, reflects this internalised colonial gaze.
The anger and frustration of Black South Africans, directed towards fellow Africans, is a symptom of the deep psychological scars left by colonialism. This internalised oppression is further exploited by the national bourgeoisie - those who have inherited the power structures of the colonial state and now use them to maintain their own dominance.
The Selective Application of Moral Outrage: The Case of the Phoenix Massacre
This selective application of moral outrage becomes even more evident when we consider the reaction to the Phoenix Massacre during the July 2021 unrest. In this instance, Indian residents of the Phoenix area brutally attacked and killed Black South Africans, yet the incident was not widely condemned as xenophobic.
Despite clear evidence of ordinary Black citizens being murdered with pangas and beatings on camera, the event did not provoke the same level of public and governmental outrage typically associated with violence framed as xenophobic.
This inconsistency in public reaction exposes the underlying racial hierarchies that dictate whose suffering is acknowledged and whose is ignored. The massacre, which was driven by fear and racialised hatred, did not elicit the same moral condemnation as attacks on foreign nationals, highlighting a double standard in how violence is interpreted and addressed in South Africa.
This selective indignation reinforces the neocolonial power structures, where the lives of certain racial groups are valued over others, maintaining a cycle of marginalisation and control against the Black African majority.
The Usurped Township Economy: A Case Study in Neocolonial Exploitation
The economic struggles faced by South Africa’s majority are further compounded by ongoing neocolonial exploitation, which systematically undermines local economies.
The township economy, once the lifeblood of local communities, has been systematically usurped by external forces. It has been rumoured that South African Muslim business cabal allegedly uses trafficked individuals from Somalia and other Muslim countries to front spaza shops in townships.
These shops, though seemingly part of the local economy, are, it has been said, mechanisms for money laundering and economic exploitation, diverting resources away from local communities and into illicit networks. Despite this assertion by those who claim to be in the know, this matter has not been investigated by the Hawks.
Meanwhile, large chain stores owned by white oligarchs have long since infiltrated township markets, commodifying traditional foods like mogodu, chicken feet, and vetkoek - products that were once the economic backbone of local women.
This corporate encroachment has devastated local businesses, leaving many without the means to support themselves. This form of economic displacement is not merely an unfortunate consequence of globalisation; it is a continuation of the neocolonial project that has systematically stripped native South African of its resources for centuries.
The Mecca of Crime: South Africa’s New Identity
The problem is further compounded by South Africa’s growing reputation as a haven for crime, including cybercrime, human trafficking, child pornography, kidnapping, and extensive drug pushing.
This transformation into a “Mecca of Crime” is another facet of the neocolonial dystopia in which South Africa finds itself. The influx of foreign nationals, many of whom are economic refugees fleeing conditions created by global capitalism, has exacerbated these issues, leading to increased competition for resources and a rise in criminal activities as a means of survival.
Yet, the narrative of xenophobia is easily deployed by those who are insulated from these realities—those for whom the competition for resources does not pose a daily threat. For the elite, it is convenient to label the frustrations of the dispossessed and working class as xenophobic because it absolves them of responsibility and maintains their moral superiority.
The liberal elite can afford to advocate for open borders and anti-xenophobia campaigns because they are not directly impacted by the economic and social pressures that these policies may create. In this way, the narrative of xenophobia serves as a mechanism of control, disciplining the population while allowing the elite to continue profiting from the status quo.
Pan-Africanism and the Reality of Open Borders
In this context, the problem of the influx of foreign nationals into South Africa cannot simply be dismissed as “anti-Pan Africanism”.
Fanon’s vision of Pan-Africanism was rooted in the shared struggle against colonialism, a solidarity among oppressed peoples. However, in the dystopian reality of neocolonial Africa, where economic refugees are driven into South Africa by conditions created or exacerbated by global powers, the ideal of Pan-Africanism is co-opted by the very forces it was meant to oppose.
Foucault’s concept of governmentality - the way in which the state exercises control over populations - explains how open borders are used not as a means of solidarity but as a mechanism of regulation. The influx of foreign nationals is, at various intervals, framed as a threat, and the state’s response is to discipline both the incoming refugees and the local population, exacerbating competition for resources. This framing serves to delegitimise the voices
of those most affected by the economic pressures that come with a large influx of foreign nationals, many of whom are themselves victims of global economic forces. The narrative of xenophobia, therefore, becomes a tool used by the state and elite liberalism to maintain control over the population, diverting attention away from the systemic inequalities that drive these tensions.
The Contradictory Voices: EFF and Gayton McKenzie
The Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF), with their calls for open borders, present this policy as a progressive, Pan-Africanist stance. Yet, this rhetoric, while appealing on the surface, overlooks the harsh realities faced by those who are forced to compete for scarce resources.
The EFF's position, by not addressing the underlying economic inequalities that perpetuate these struggles, reinforces the very structures of control they claim to oppose.
In direct opposition to EFF, figures like Gayton McKenzie, Minister of Sports, Arts and Culture of South Africa, exploit the fear and frustration of Black South Africans by using the trope of xenophobia to rally support. This populist approach taps into the genuine grievances of those left behind by the post-apartheid economy, but it offers little in terms of real solutions. Instead, it redirects anger and resentment away from the true sources of oppression - namely, the structural and systemic forces that have maintained the economic and social hierarchies of the colonial era—and channels it into further division and scapegoating.
A Psychoanalytic Perspective on the Adetshina Controversy
In psychoanalytic terms, the controversy surrounding Adetshina can be understood as a manifestation of the transference of collective fear and anxiety, rooted in the struggle for survival. In a society marked by deep economic inequalities and historical traumas, these anxieties often find their outlet in the projection onto an "other" - a scapegoat who embodies the fears and frustrations that are too threatening to confront directly.
This transference operates as a defence mechanism, allowing individuals and communities to displace their underlying anxieties about economic insecurity, social marginalisation, and the perceived loss of control onto the figure of the foreign national. The foreigner becomes the repository of fears about dwindling resources, job scarcity, and the erosion of social cohesion. In this way, the real sources of anxiety - such as systemic exploitation, the failures of the state, and the persistence of neocolonial dynamics - are obscured, as the psyche seeks to manage the unbearable pressures of survival by externalising them.
The intense public focus on Adetshina's nationality is symptomatic of this transference, where the collective unconscious redirects its unresolved conflicts and insecurities onto a tangible target. This process does little to resolve the fissure in the psyche of the attacker. Instead, it deflects attention from the true sources of societal unrest, reinforcing existing power structures by perpetuating cycles of blame and exclusion.
In this context, the narrative of xenophobia is not merely a social or political construct, but a deeply psychological phenomenon that reflects the ways in which personal and collective fear and economic anxiety are managed within the social body.
To move beyond this cycle, a psychoanalytic approach would suggest that South African society must engage in a process of introspection and confrontation with its own fears and anxieties. This involves recognising the mechanisms of transference at work and understanding that the true threats to survival lie not in the presence of the "other," but in the unresolved and repressed conflicts within the socio-economic structure itself.
Only by addressing these deeper issues can this cycle of projection and blame be broken, allowing for the possibility of genuine healing and transformation.
Towards a Pan-African Future
Chidimma Adetshina’s story thus becomes a powerful signifier of the broader challenges inherent in pursuing the ideal of genuine Pan-Africanism within the current global power dynamics.
While Pan-Africanism envisions unity, solidarity, and shared cultural and economic empowerment across the African continent, its realisation is stifled by the entrenched structures of Western dominance that continue to enforce economic, cultural, and identity-based control. Adetshina’s experience reveals the hard reality that this ideal cannot flourish in its pure form within the existing global order, where the Global South - and particularly Africa - remains subjugated by the pervasive influence of white supremacy.
In the context of her participation and subsequent removal in Miss South Africa, Adetshina becomes more than just a pageant contestant; she embodies the tension between the Pan-African ideal and the neocolonial reality.
The metanarrative of white supremacy continues to assert itself over economic systems, cultural identities, and national borders, ensuring that the remnants of colonialism persist and that any attempts to forge a unified, borderless Africa are fraught with contradictions and challenges.
To impose the utopian discourse of a borderless Pan-Africa onto the neocolonial hell that exists for South Africa’s most vulnerable communities is to perpetuate a false consciousness - one that obscures the real sources of their suffering and distracts from the urgent need for radical systemic change.
This false consciousness is not an organic development but rather a construct imposed by the ruling elite, who exploit the rhetoric of Pan-Africanism to maintain their own power while failing to address the deep-seated inequalities that continue to plague the continent.
Adetshina’s heart-breaking journey to her exclusion from the pageant, finally due to her mother’s alleged identity theft, therefore, becomes a microcosm of this broader struggle, highlighting the contradictions and limitations of pursuing Pan-Africanism in a world still dominated by the legacies of colonialism.
It is imperative to deconstruct the global forces that keep Africa divided and oppressed, to critically engage with and reject the structures of power that maintain this status quo. Only by dismantling these systems of white supremacy can we begin to pave the way for a truly borderless world - a Pan-Africa not just in rhetoric but in reality, built on the principles of Ubuntu which encompasses equality, justice, and shared prosperity for all African people.
Until then, the call for a borderless Pan-Africa remains a noble but ultimately hollow ideal, one that cannot be realised without first confronting and overcoming the neocolonial conditions that continue to shape the lived experiences of millions across South Africa and the continent.
* Sipho Singiswa is a researcher, filmmaker, and social justice activist.
* Gillian Schutte is a social critic, writer, filmmaker and social justice activist.
** This article is an extraction of a wider body of research that we have applied to the Chidimma Adetshina Miss SA debacle. The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media or IOL.