Right Wings Rising and a World in Distress: The Global Surge in Tribalism, Xenophobia, and Systemic Prejudices

Introduction

In chapter seven of Joe Barnabas’s novel Clan of Mésalliance, a deeply philosophical exchange occurs within the confined space of a cab navigating the bustling streets of Kuala Lumpur. Sizwe, a South African driver, and Rebecca, a visiting British tourist, reflect on the ancient biblical narrative of Rebecca’s womb, which carried two distinct nations and contrasting destinies: Esau and Jacob. Rebecca extends this theological metaphor to the architecture of the modern state, observing that every country gestates its own flawed, incomplete version of democracy.

While conventional political systems satisfy segments of Abraham Lincoln’s seminal Gettysburg formula: government of, for, or by the people; Rebecca identifies a vital, yet entirely neglected, fourth dimension: "government with the people and among the people." This "complete democracy," she notes, remains unachieved by any modern nation.

This fictional dialogue serves as an indictment of our contemporary global reality. Today, the world finds itself in acute distress, fractured by a synchronized resurgence of right-wing extremism, nativist tribalism, and violent religious fundamentalism. These global crises are not isolated, localized anomalies; rather, they are systemic mutations born from the exact same institutional failure. From the virulent Afrophobia plaguing South Africa to the populist right-wing movements capturing hearts and ballots in Europe and America, and the unyielding theological friction in the Middle East filtering directly into the African continent, our global landscape is fracturing.

When governance detaches itself from the multicultural fabric of its citizenry, failing to live with and among them, the resulting civic vacuum is inevitably filled by xenophobia, exclusion, and fear.

Fractured Solidarities: Afrophobia in the Post-Apartheid State

The tragic irony of modern tribalism manifests most acutely in the homeland of Barnabas's character, Sizwe. Decades ago, South Africa stood as a global symbol of cross-border solidarity, defeating the institutionalized racism of Apartheid through a unified, international coalition. Today, however, that same soil is routinely gripped by virulent Afrophobia. Localized political movements and frustrated communities routinely scapegoat black foreign nationals: primarily migrants from Zimbabwe, Nigeria, and Mozambique for systemic domestic failures, ranging from chronic unemployment to failing public infrastructure.

This crisis illustrates the catastrophe of a state failing to exist with and among its people. In a procedural sense, South Africa boasts a robust democracy: it is a government of and by the people, sustained by free elections and a progressive constitution. Yet, the state fails to exist among its most vulnerable populations in the townships and informal settlements. When a government fails to dwell alongside its citizens to alleviate poverty and deliver basic economic security, it alienates them.

In this state of institutional abandonment, citizens cease to view democracy as a shared human experience. Instead, they retreat into hyper-local tribalism, viewing their fellow African neighbours not as historic allies, but as existential threats competing for scarce resources.

The Nativist Retreat: Western Populism and the Fear of the "Other"

A parallel pathology drives the right-wing populist movements fracturing Western Europe and the United States. In these regions, political entrepreneurs have successfully capitalized on the profound anxieties of a working and middle class buffeted by rapid globalization, deindustrialization, and shifting demographic realities. Much like the cosmopolitan canvas of Kuala Lumpur described by Rebecca: where Americans, Germans, Chinese, and Pakistanis cross paths daily; modern Western societies are undeniably, irreversibly multicultural.

Yet, the institutional response to this diversity has been a defensive retreat into nativism. Right-wing populist rhetoric constructs a dangerous, zero-sum narrative: it suggests that to preserve the economic and cultural security of the "native" population, the immigrant must be systematically excluded or demonized. This political surge is a direct consequence of Western governments operating merely for the people as an abstract economic aggregate, rather than governing with them as a lived, pluralistic community.

Because institutions have failed to foster integration and shared economic stability among their increasingly diverse constituencies, they have allowed a toxic premise to take root: that multiculturalism is an inherent threat to national identity, rather than its defining modern feature.

Middle Eastern Extremism and the Devastation of West Africa

While the West and Southern Africa grapple with secular or ethnic nationalism, the ideological toxins of Middle Eastern religious fundamentalism have filtered aggressively across the Mediterranean and into the African continent. This ideological leakage has found its most devastating expression in West Africa and the broader Sahel region. Over the past decade, as the central command structures of ISIS and Al-Qaeda faced containment in Iraq and Syria, their transnational networks pivoted their resources, funding, and radical Salafi-jihadist doctrines southward toward vulnerable African states.

This trans-Saharan infiltration has fundamentally altered the security landscape of countries like Nigeria, Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger. Middle Eastern fundamentalism did not simply land in a vacuum; it intentionally weaponized local governance failures. In northern and rural West African communities, where central governments are entirely absent: failing completely to rule with or among the peripheral populations global terror franchises like Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) and Jama'at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM) stepped in.

The Crime-Terror Nexus

In the absence of state legitimacy, religious extremism has fused seamlessly with local economic criminality. What began as localized banditry, cattle rustling, and pastoral conflicts has been cross-pollinated with radical religious ideology.

Kidnapping-for-ransom operations, illegal gold mining, and localized highway robbery have been rebranded under the banner of holy war. This toxic synthesis has given rise to a brutal cycle of terrorism and banditry where religious fundamentalism provides the ideological justification, while criminal enterprise provides the cash flow. By capturing the minds of marginalized youth who feel utterly abandoned by their democratic capitals, these movements have replaced the civic contract with an absolutist, violent theological monolith.

The Theological Monolith

The consequences of this ideological filtration extend beyond West Africa, locking the entire international community into an adversarial loop. When states collapse into fundamentalism or turn predatory, they reduce governance to an uncompromising dogma. This environment represents the total rejection of pluralistic democracy. By replacing local customs and diverse, syncretic expressions of faith with rigid foreign theological frameworks, variations in doctrine are transformed into violent geopolitical battlegrounds.

This cyclical intolerance feeds directly into the global ecosystem of prejudice. The rise of fundamentalism and highly publicized insurgencies in Africa and the Middle East triggers reactionary, generalized Islamophobia in the West. Conversely, Western xenophobia and instances of Christianophobia are weaponized by fundamentalist recruiters in the Global South to justify further radicalization, framing their local insurgencies as part of a grand cosmic defence against the hostile "other."

Without a governance model that respects and embeds itself among different religious and ethnic communities, entire regions remain trapped in an endless loop of identity politics and asymmetry.

Conclusion

Ultimately, Rebecca’s parting observation to Sizwe holds a mirror to our shared global destiny:

If everyone were forced to return to their native lands, no one would remain in their adopted homes.

Human history is not a story of static borders and pure lineages; it is an indelible chronicle of movement, adaptation, and shared geography. The rising global tides of right-wing populism, Afrophobia, and transnational religious bigotry are fundamentally desperate, futile attempts to deny this historical truth.

The world is in distress because our political systems have treated democracy merely as a procedural checklist: a matter of holding periodic elections, enforcing borders, and managing macroeconomic figures. They have forgotten that true democracy is an ongoing, relational experience.

Until modern nations look past the basic mechanics of voting and actively strive for a "complete democracy"; one that moves dynamically with and dwells compassionately among all its people, regardless of their origin, race, or creed; the womb of the modern state will continue to give birth to deeply divided nations tragically at war with themselves.