“I don’t want them in our country. I’ll be honest with you. Okay, somebody’s going to say, ‘Oh, that’s not politically correct.'” Never mind. We don’t want them in our country. There’s a reason why their country is no good…”
This is what US President Donald Trump said about Somali immigrants on the first day of an immigration crackdown targeting the Somali community. He said Somali immigrants were turning the US state of Minnesota, where about 2 percent of the population is of Somali descent, into a “hell” and urged them to “get out of here.” Trump then directed his anger at his vocal critic, Somali-born Democratic Rep. Ilhan Omar of Minnesota, saying, “She’s trash. Her friends are trash. They’re not working people. They’re not the kind of people who would say, ‘Come on, let’s make this place great.'”
Of course, none of this is new or surprising. Hatred of immigrants and asylum seekers has always been the glue that holds President Trump’s MAGAverse together. Who can forget how, before his intimate meeting with President Trump at the White House, several MAGA Republicans were serious about stripping incoming New York City Mayor Zoran Mamdani of his American citizenship? Since President Trump took power, hostility toward immigrants has not only become a mainstream element of modern American politics, but a governing principle.
But the rise in anti-immigrant sentiment, and its legitimization and promotion by those in positions of power, is not unique to President Trump’s increasingly insular America. Similar rhetoric and tactics are spreading in other regions, revealing a global trend that extends far beyond the United States. Denmark is another example.
Denmark has become one of Europe’s toughest countries on immigration and asylum in recent years, underpinned by its long-cultivated image of a progressive, humane, and orderly society built on universal health care, Lego, highly livable cities, and a minimalist designer aesthetic. Islamophobic rhetoric was on full display in the recently concluded local elections, and the ruling Social Democratic Party has made tackling the so-called immigration issue a central part of its campaign ahead of the 2026 national elections.
Across the pond in the UK, the supposedly progressive Labor government appears keen to follow Denmark’s example. Under pressure from the far right and a sustained rise in approval ratings for Reform Britain, Prime Minister Keir Starmer hopes to convince the public that he can be trusted to take back control of borders and end a sordid chapter in Britain’s immigration policy. The Prime Minister warned that Britain risks becoming a stranger’s island unless immigration is drastically reduced, and promised that his government’s reforms would ensure that immigration would be reduced. That’s a promise. Most strikingly, Home Secretary Shabana Mahmoud recently sent officials to Denmark to investigate the immigration and asylum system, a move that highlights how dramatically Labor’s position has hardened.
Xenophobia is also on the rise outside the Western world. It is a staple of policy and practice from Libya to South Africa, and is a reminder that anti-immigrant politics is now a global means of governance.
Libyan migrants heading to Europe face appalling levels of violence and abuse. According to Amnesty International, they are subject to long-term arbitrary detention, enforced disappearance, torture, rape, unlawful killing, extortion and forced labor. These abuses are taking place in a system effectively taken over by European governments, which have poured money, training and equipment into the Libyan coast guard, which is tasked with interdicting migrants before they reach international waters. Desperate to stem the flow of migrants across the Mediterranean, European Union countries have entrusted border control to Libya despite knowing the consequences, underscoring the authorities’ ability to continue with measures that the United Nations says very likely amount to crimes against humanity.
Further west, in Tunisia, black African immigrants have long been subject to sporadic violence. In early 2023, President Kais Saied claimed that there was a criminal plan to change Tunisia’s demographics through illegal immigration and turn it into a purely African country with no ties to Arab or Islamic countries. His comments sparked a surge in mob attacks on black immigrants, students, and asylum seekers. Arrests have also increased, and police appear to be targeting black African foreigners based on their appearance. Those detained include not only immigrants with valid status, but also undocumented immigrants, registered refugees, and asylum seekers, demonstrating how state practices can change when xenophobia is given political sanction.
Similarly, xenophobia targeting immigrants from other African countries has become a constant feature of life and politics in post-apartheid South Africa. According to XenoWatch, a project run by the University of the Witwatersrand that tracks xenophobic discrimination and violence, 1,295 incidents have been recorded since 1994, including forced removals, looting of immigrant-owned businesses, and killings. Death tolls peaked in 2008 with 72 deaths and 150 incidents. In 2025, 16 people died, but the total number of xenophobic incidents once again reached 2008 levels, underscoring the continuing crisis.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, the government has systematically ignored migrant communities, excluded many people from relief programs, and prioritized the protection of South Africans. The province also built a 40-kilometer fence along its border with Zimbabwe to keep out infected people and illegal immigrants, even though Zimbabwe had only 11 confirmed cases of COVID-19 at the time compared to 1,845 in South Africa. Politicians reinforced the existing myth that foreign companies pose health risks. In announcing that Spaza stores could remain open, the then Minister of Small and Medium Enterprise Development, Khumbudzo Nshabeni, declared that only South African owned, managed and operated stores would remain open.
South Africa has also seen an increase in explicit anti-immigration mobilization. The South Africans First Movement, a coalition of civil society organizations advocating mass deportation of African migrants, organized a march to the Nigerian and Zimbabwean embassies on September 23, 2020, claiming that foreigners are complicit in South Africa’s social ills such as drug, human trafficking and child abduction.
The movement gave rise to the vigilante group Operation Dudura in 2021 following the imprisonment of former president Jacob Zuma. It claims to tackle crime and drug use in Gauteng communities, but its name, Dudula (meaning “forced removal” in isiZulu), captures its true focus. The group is well known for calling for mass deportations, blocking immigrants’ access to hospitals and clinics, and attacking or shutting down foreign-owned businesses.
Of course, I could go on, from tightening regulations in countries like Colombia, Peru, Chile, and Ecuador aimed at stemming the flow of Venezuelan migrants, to Indian authorities forcibly expelling Bengali Muslims to Bangladesh without due process, domestic guarantees, or international human rights standards, claiming they are in the country illegally. Xenophobia is not limited to any region or ideology. It is now integrated into the political life of countries around the world.
Why do we capitulate so eagerly to xenophobic rhetoric and policies? Partly because it’s convenient. They enable governments and societies to externalize domestic failures, providing easy explanations for problems that are much more complex and often rooted in domestic political and economic mismanagement, austerity, deepening inequality, and precarious work, rather than the arrival of strangers.
In this logic, immigrants become a ready-made scapegoat, someone onto whom we project all the evils we believe threaten who we are or what we stand for. It then becomes easier to claim that immigrants subscribe to dangerous ideologies, strain national resources, carry disease, or form part of an insidious plan to change the country’s demographic and cultural makeup.
Perception becomes reality. By blaming those who cross our borders, we can imagine the threat is elsewhere and feel reassured that the problem is not us. The tragedy is that the dysfunction and corruption built into our own systems remains unchecked. And scapegoating someone who appears to be an outsider does nothing to make our society fairer, safer, or more humane. It only buys time for leaders who are unwilling to confront the crisis they have caused.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial policy.
