In South Africa, where the wounds of past xenophobic violence have never fully healed, an anti-immigration movement called March and March has set a September 30 deadline for undocumented foreigners to leave — a date that carries no legal weight but enormous psychological force. Refugee communities, many of them long-settled and deeply rooted, now live in fear of what follows when a deadline expires without consequence but with accumulated rage. With November local elections approaching and migration hardening into a political weapon, the question is not merely whether violence will come, but
South African refugees fear violence as anti-migrant group sets September 30 deadline
It has been very tough. Never before have I experienced something like this.
Why does a deadline with no legal force matter so much? Can't the government just say it's meaningless?
Because fear doesn't require a law to work. People have seen what happened in 2008 and 2015. When a movement with followers says "leave by this date or else," the "or else" is what people remember.
But we should be clear: the source doesn't say March and March has explicitly threatened violence. They say "further demonstrations." The fear is real, but it's built on historical precedent, not a direct threat we can point to.
So the government is actually deporting people at scale—nearly 87,000 in two months. Doesn't that address the group's stated concern?
On paper, yes. But the refugees say police aren't protecting them from March and March members. So even as the government enforces immigration law, the movement's members are operating with apparent impunity.
The source attributes that to Muyumba. We don't have independent confirmation of police inaction in specific incidents. That's an important distinction—it's a refugee's perception of police behavior, which is real and matters, but it's not the same as documented police negligence.
Why is the November election making this worse?
Migration is becoming a political issue. Politicians may see advantage in appearing tough on immigration. That creates space for movements like March and March to escalate, because they're riding a wave.
Again, that's inference. The source says migration is "increasingly prominent" as a political issue, and Bahebwa suspects the deadline is tied to elections. But we don't have statements from politicians or evidence of deliberate coordination.
What happens after September 30?
That's the question everyone's asking. The deadline passes, but the movement doesn't disappear. The political pressure doesn't disappear. And the refugees' fear doesn't disappear either.
And we genuinely don't know. The source doesn't tell us what March and March plans to do if the deadline isn't met. That's a real gap in what we know.
O Pulso
- An anti-immigration group's September 30 ultimatum has driven refugees into hiding, with community leaders like Bishop Raphael Bahebwa — a 26-year resident of South Africa — sleeping away from their own homes out of fear.
- Refugees describe a pattern of police inaction during confrontations with March and March members, leaving foreign nationals exposed and without institutional protection.
- The South African government has responded with mass deportation operations — nearly 87,000 foreign nationals processed between June and late August — framing enforcement as border management while warning that private groups hold no legal authority to expel anyone.
- A previous June 30 deadline set by the same movement generated widespread terror despite having no force of law, signaling that the September 30 date will follow the same logic of fear regardless of legal standing.
- With November local elections approaching, migration has become a charged political issue, and refugee communities fear the deadline is less an endpoint than an accelerant — one whose effects will burn well past a single date.
In South Africa, where the wounds of past xenophobic violence have never fully healed, an anti-immigration movement called March and March has set a September 30 deadline for undocumented foreigners to leave — a date that carries no legal weight but enormous psychological force. Refugee communities, many of them long-settled and deeply rooted, now live in fear of what follows when a deadline expires without consequence but with accumulated rage. With November local elections approaching and migration hardening into a political weapon, the question is not merely whether violence will come, but whether the conditions that invite it will outlast any single date on a calendar.
Bishop Raphael Bahebwa has not slept in his own bed for weeks. A refugee from the Democratic Republic of Congo who has lived in South Africa for 26 years, he is now in hiding after speaking publicly about the rights of foreign nationals — a act that made him a target of March and March, an anti-immigration movement that has declared September 30 the deadline by which undocumented foreigners must leave the country or face unspecified consequences. "Never before have I experienced something like this," he told journalists.
The fear is not his alone. Kafuti Muyumba, another Congolese refugee and small business owner, describes neighbors too frightened to return to the communities where they have built their lives. He points to what he sees as official indifference — police standing by during confrontations, then blaming the migrants when violence erupts. The pattern echoes xenophobic outbreaks in 2008 and 2015 that killed dozens and displaced thousands.
March and March rejects the xenophobia label, insisting its campaign targets illegal immigration and crime rather than foreign nationals as a category. The movement argues the government has failed to enforce immigration law and frames its deadline as a call for voluntary departure ahead of further demonstrations.
The government has responded with intensified enforcement — nearly 87,000 foreign nationals processed for deportation between mid-June and late August — while also warning that March and March's deadline carries no legal authority. Ordinary citizens cannot deport anyone.
But legality and terror operate on different timetables. An earlier June 30 deadline generated widespread fear despite having no force of law, and the September 30 date is following the same pattern. Bahebwa sees it clearly: "It is not going to end on September 30. It has to do with the elections." With South Africa's local government elections set for November 4, migration has become a prominent political fault line — and for refugee communities, the deadline feels less like a date than a door left open to something much larger.
Bishop Raphael Bahebwa has not slept in his own bed for weeks. The refugee from the Democratic Republic of Congo, who has called South Africa home for 26 years, is now in hiding. The reason is simple and terrifying: an anti-immigration movement called March and March has declared September 30 a deadline—the day by which all undocumented foreigners must leave the country, or face unspecified consequences. Bahebwa's crime, in the eyes of the movement, was speaking publicly about the rights of foreign nationals. He has watched xenophobic violence rise and fall in South Africa before, but he says this moment feels fundamentally different. "It has been very tough," he told journalists. "Never before have I experienced something like this."
The fear gripping refugee communities across South Africa is not abstract. Kafuti Muyumba, himself a refugee from the DRC and a small business owner, describes neighbors too frightened to return to the neighborhoods where they have built their livelihoods. The anxiety is compounded by what Muyumba sees as official indifference. Police, he says, stand by while March and March members arrive with weapons, and when confrontations occur, authorities blame the migrants. "This is not the first time we are experiencing xenophobia," Muyumba noted, pointing to violent outbreaks in 2008 and 2015 that killed dozens and displaced thousands across townships and informal settlements.
March and March frames its campaign differently. The movement insists it is not xenophobic but rather focused on undocumented immigration, crime, and deteriorating conditions in South African communities. The group argues that the government has been insufficient in enforcing immigration law and has called for undocumented foreigners to leave. Its leaders have repeatedly rejected the label of xenophobia, maintaining that their target is illegal entry, not foreign nationals as a category. The September 30 deadline is their ultimatum: leave voluntarily, or face further demonstrations.
The South African government has responded by intensifying its own enforcement operations. Between mid-June and late August, authorities processed nearly 87,000 foreign nationals for deportation and repatriation. Malawians comprised the largest group, followed by Zimbabweans and Mozambicans. Government data shows that 90 percent of those repatriated had entered South Africa illegally, crossing the border outside official ports of entry. Officials have framed these operations as part of a broader effort to strengthen border management and enforce immigration law. At the same time, government representatives have warned private groups against taking enforcement into their own hands, noting that March and March's deadline carries no legal authority—ordinary citizens cannot deport anyone from South Africa.
But deadlines need not be legally binding to generate terror. An earlier deadline of June 30, also set by March and March, created widespread fear even though it had no force of law. As the September 30 date approaches, that pattern is repeating. Bahebwa sees the deadline as part of a larger political calculation. "They are scapegoating us as foreigners," he said. "It is not going to end on September 30. It has to do with the elections." South Africa will hold local government elections on November 4, and migration has emerged as an increasingly prominent political and social issue. For refugee communities, the timing is ominous. The deadline may pass, but the political momentum behind it—and the violence it may unleash—could extend far beyond a single date.
Citações Notáveis
They are scapegoating us as foreigners. It is not going to end on September 30. It has to do with the elections.— Bishop Raphael Bahebwa, refugee from the Democratic Republic of Congo
People are afraid. Even the police allow March and March violence. This is not the first time we are experiencing xenophobia.— Kafuti Muyumba, refugee and small business owner