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Yahoo
25-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Opinion - The racist ideology behind Afrikaners' red carpet treatment
I arrived in America on Feb. 9, 2011, with just one carry-on bag containing everything to my name: middle school certificates, some clothes and one white bag bearing the International Organization for Migration logo, holding a big badge with my name and our destination: Twin Falls, Idaho. My one-and-a-half-year-old nephew screamed from hunger. My sister-in-law, drained from days of travel and weakened by her own hunger, tried to breastfeed him as we waited for hours at JFK International Airport. We had no money and no guide. And I, then just a teenager, was the only one who could speak even a few words of English. Two days later, after a 10-hour delay in Detroit, we finally landed in Idaho. There was no press conference. No welcome speech. No camera crew. Just one driver from the local refugee center and a Nepali interpreter who took us to a run-down two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. Our new home was in a complex full of people like us — Black, Middle Eastern and other non-white families whose stories no one had ever asked to hear. That's what most refugee arrivals in America look like: quiet, tense, invisible. You're met not with celebration but with suspicion — from airport security, border officials, even bystanders. Staff roll their eyes when you ask where to go, what time your flight boards, or which gate to use. Strangers glare at you for your accent, your United Nations badge and the smell of exhaustion on your clothes. There is no dignity — just the constant fear of doing something wrong, of being reminded that you don't belong. I remember my mother crying softly in a corner, whispering to me: 'Let's go back to the refugee camp, we at least had dignity in camp.' On Jan. 20, the Trump administration effectively halted refugee admissions. But on May 8, it was announced that refugee status has been granted to 54 White Afrikaners. On May 12, the same day the Afrikaners arrived in the United States, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the termination of temporary protected status for Afghanistan, stripping protections from more than 9,000 Afghans who had risked their lives working alongside U.S. forces. A senior official from the Department of State made a public speech welcoming to the U.S. the descendants of the people who colonized southern Africa. There was laughter, applause, and praise of just 'how well-behaved the children are.' The official even praised their 'culture,' a culture that, until the 1990s, upheld an apartheid government. It wasn't a refugee arrival. It was a spectacle — a carefully staged, Hollywood-style production of resettlement. Meanwhile, thousands of other refugees, mostly from the Global South, whose cases had been approved after years of rigorous vetting, have been quietly denied entry or had their resettlement canceled, leaving them in danger and legal limbo. On May 21, what was supposed to be a bilateral trade meeting at the White House with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and his delegation quickly turned into a political ambush. Instead of engaging in serious dialogue about economic cooperation or South Africa's urgent domestic challenges, Trump used the moment to double down on discredited claims of 'white genocide' in South Africa. He dismissed Ramaphosa's explanations and showed no interest in the country's post-apartheid governance or the crime and inequality affecting both Black and white South Africans. It was never about addressing the crime rate, addressing poverty or protecting South Africans. It was a calculated performance, meant to reinforce a message to Trump's political base that, in a multiracial democracy, white people are the ones under threat. This performance on the global stage was neither about refugee protection nor principled refugee resettlement. It was about stoking fear and legitimizing a MAGA worldview that sees diversity as a threat. The resettlement of the Afrikaners broke decades of precedent outlined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the 1980 U.S. Refugee Act, which together call for a fair admission with rigorous proof of political persecution. It's far from the standards many families like mine were held to. I've worked with thousands of refugees across the country, from Pennsylvania to Idaho, Utah and Ohio. As the founder of Refugee Civic Action, I spend every day helping newly arrived and naturalized Americans understand the rights, responsibilities and values of this country, believing that they, too, can become active participants in our democracy. In the last election alone, Refugee Civic Action engaged more than 27,000 former refugees who were new American voters. In recent days, I have been thinking about the Afghan father I mentored, who risked his life to support U.S. forces, who was forced to flee alone, leaving behind his two young sons in Taliban-controlled Kabul, and the mother I met through a refugee organization, who had fled China in fear for her daughter's life in Xinjiang, only to have their family reunification indefinitely stalled under this administration's policies. Historically, the U.S. has welcomed refugees for two primary reasons. One is geopolitical: during the Cold War, admission of those fleeing communism allowed America to assert itself as a beacon of democracy, and it took pride in that. My family benefited from the other, more enduring motivation: the humanitarian imperative to protect the persecuted. In 2008, the U.S. extended refuge to Bhutanese families like mine, offering a pathway to resettlement and safety. At its best, the refugee program reflects America's highest ideals. But this admission of white Afrikaners has nothing to do with either. This is about racial signaling. What we have seen in the case of the Afrikaners is a strategic, racialized provocation that twists the legal and moral foundations of refugee protections to serve a white nationalist agenda. The Afrikaners, by contrast, were ushered in — some in just three months — under the unfounded claim that they were victims of 'racial persecution.' This move is not merely a policy decision; it is a politically calculated act that aligns with the rhetoric of the Make America Great Again movement. First, it reinforces the narrative that white individuals are the true victims of globalization and competitive multiracial democracy. Second, it breathes new life into the 'great replacement' theory: the racist and unfounded belief that white Americans are being systematically replaced by rising nonwhite populations. By admitting white South Africans as refugees and victims of racial persecution, the Trump administration has sent a dangerous message that in a multiracial democracy, the loss of white dominance is equivalent to persecution — a narrative that has been actively promoted in public discourse by a fringe group of MAGA movements. In this narrative, South Africa becomes a warning of what awaits the United States should Black and nonwhite Americans gain political power, even though white South Africans still control a disproportionate share of the country's wealth, including an estimated 73 percent of private farmland. As America becomes a more diverse nation, those who equate whiteness with greatness see this shift not as progress, but as a threat. Congress must demand answers from the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. On what grounds were white Afrikaners granted expedited status while thousands of others, many with proven claims of persecution, wait in limbo or are deported? Answering this question is not only essential to protect the integrity of the refugee system, but also to preserve the very foundation of a multiracial democracy. Lok Darjee is a former Bhutanese refugee from Nepal and the founder of Refugee Civic Action, a nonpartisan initiative mobilizing New Americans to participate in U.S. democracy. He is a freelance writer and commentator on democracy, immigration, refugee issues and foreign policy. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Newsweek
25-05-2025
- Politics
- Newsweek
US Citizen Arrested for Attempted Firebombing Attack on Embassy in Israel
Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. Newsweek AI is in beta. Translations may contain inaccuracies—please refer to the original content. FBI special agents on Sunday arrested dual U.S.-German citizen Joseph Neumayer at JFK International Airport in connection with an attempt to destroy the Brach Office of the U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv, Israel, the U.S. Department of Justice said in a press release. He was initially arrested in Israel and transferred to U.S. custody on Sunday. "This defendant is charged with planning a devastating attack targeting our embassy in Israel, threatening death to Americans, and President Trump's life," said Attorney General Pamela Bondi. "The Department will not tolerate such violence and will prosecute this defendant to the fullest extent of the law." According to a complaint unsealed in the Eastern District of New York, Neumayer is alleged to have left a dark-colored backpack next to the embassy building on May 19, having arrived in Israel in April. He is alleged to have spit on a security guard as he walked past, left a backpack, and fled as the security guard failed to detain him. Inside the backpack, authorities discovered three Molotov cocktails, which contained flammable fluid. Authorities tracked Neumeyer to his hotel, where he was arrested. Neumeyer's social media revealed that earlier on May 19, he posted, "join me as I burn down the embassy in Tel Aviv. Death to America, death to Americans, and f--k the west." Other social media posts from an account believed to be used by Neumeyer revealed his threats to assassinate President Trump. "The defendant is charged with attempting to firebomb the U.S. Embassy and making threats to President Trump," said FBI Director Kash Patel. "This despicable and violent behavior will not be tolerated at home or abroad, and the FBI, working with our partners, will bring him to face justice for his dangerous actions." If convicted, Neumeyer faces a minimum of five years in prison and a maximum of 20 years in prison, and a maximum fine in the amount of $250,000. This is a developing story and more information will be added as it becomes available.
The Hill
25-05-2025
- Politics
- The Hill
The racist ideology behind Afrikaners' red carpet treatment
I arrived in America on Feb. 9, 2011, with just one carry-on bag containing everything to my name: middle school certificates, some clothes and one white bag bearing the International Organization for Migration logo, holding a big badge with my name and our destination: Twin Falls, Idaho. My one-and-a-half-year-old nephew screamed from hunger. My sister-in-law, drained from days of travel and weakened by her own hunger, tried to breastfeed him as we waited for hours at JFK International Airport. We had no money and no guide. And I, then just a teenager, was the only one who could speak even a few words of English. Two days later, after a 10-hour delay in Detroit, we finally landed in Idaho. There was no press conference. No welcome speech. No camera crew. Just one driver from the local refugee center and a Nepali interpreter who took us to a run-down two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of town. Our new home was in a complex full of people like us — Black, Middle Eastern and other non-white families whose stories no one had ever asked to hear. That's what most refugee arrivals in America look like: quiet, tense, invisible. You're met not with celebration but with suspicion — from airport security, border officials, even bystanders. Staff roll their eyes when you ask where to go, what time your flight boards, or which gate to use. Strangers glare at you for your accent, your United Nations badge and the smell of exhaustion on your clothes. There is no dignity — just the constant fear of doing something wrong, of being reminded that you don't belong. I remember my mother crying softly in a corner, whispering to me: 'Let's go back to the refugee camp, we at least had dignity in camp.' On Jan. 20, the Trump administration effectively halted refugee admissions. But on May 8, it was announced that refugee status has been granted to 54 White Afrikaners. On May 12, the same day the Afrikaners arrived in the United States, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem announced the termination of temporary protected status for Afghanistan, stripping protections from more than 9,000 Afghans who had risked their lives working alongside U.S. forces. A senior official from the Department of State made a public speech welcoming to the U.S. the descendants of the people who colonized southern Africa. There was laughter, applause, and praise of just 'how well-behaved the children are.' The official even praised their 'culture,' a culture that, until the 1990s, upheld an apartheid government. It wasn't a refugee arrival. It was a spectacle — a carefully staged, Hollywood-style production of resettlement. Meanwhile, thousands of other refugees, mostly from the Global South, whose cases had been approved after years of rigorous vetting, have been quietly denied entry or had their resettlement canceled, leaving them in danger and legal limbo. On May 21, what was supposed to be a bilateral trade meeting at the White House with South African President Cyril Ramaphosa and his delegation quickly turned into a political ambush. Instead of engaging in serious dialogue about economic cooperation or South Africa's urgent domestic challenges, Trump used the moment to double down on discredited claims of 'white genocide' in South Africa. He dismissed Ramaphosa's explanations and showed no interest in the country's post-apartheid governance or the crime and inequality affecting both Black and white South Africans. It was never about addressing the crime rate, addressing poverty or protecting South Africans. It was a calculated performance, meant to reinforce a message to Trump's political base that, in a multiracial democracy, white people are the ones under threat. This performance on the global stage was neither about refugee protection nor principled refugee resettlement. It was about stoking fear and legitimizing a MAGA worldview that sees diversity as a threat. The resettlement of the Afrikaners broke decades of precedent outlined in the 1951 Refugee Convention and the 1980 U.S. Refugee Act, which together call for a fair admission with rigorous proof of political persecution. It's far from the standards many families like mine were held to. I've worked with thousands of refugees across the country, from Pennsylvania to Idaho, Utah and Ohio. As the founder of Refugee Civic Action, I spend every day helping newly arrived and naturalized Americans understand the rights, responsibilities and values of this country, believing that they, too, can become active participants in our democracy. In the last election alone, Refugee Civic Action engaged more than 27,000 former refugees who were new American voters. In recent days, I have been thinking about the Afghan father I mentored, who risked his life to support U.S. forces, who was forced to flee alone, leaving behind his two young sons in Taliban-controlled Kabul, and the mother I met through a refugee organization, who had fled China in fear for her daughter's life in Xinjiang, only to have their family reunification indefinitely stalled under this administration's policies. Historically, the U.S. has welcomed refugees for two primary reasons. One is geopolitical: during the Cold War, admission of those fleeing communism allowed America to assert itself as a beacon of democracy, and it took pride in that. My family benefited from the other, more enduring motivation: the humanitarian imperative to protect the persecuted. In 2008, the U.S. extended refuge to Bhutanese families like mine, offering a pathway to resettlement and safety. At its best, the refugee program reflects America's highest ideals. But this admission of white Afrikaners has nothing to do with either. This is about racial signaling. What we have seen in the case of the Afrikaners is a strategic, racialized provocation that twists the legal and moral foundations of refugee protections to serve a white nationalist agenda. The Afrikaners, by contrast, were ushered in — some in just three months — under the unfounded claim that they were victims of 'racial persecution.' This move is not merely a policy decision; it is a politically calculated act that aligns with the rhetoric of the Make America Great Again movement. First, it reinforces the narrative that white individuals are the true victims of globalization and competitive multiracial democracy. Second, it breathes new life into the 'great replacement' theory: the racist and unfounded belief that white Americans are being systematically replaced by rising nonwhite populations. By admitting white South Africans as refugees and victims of racial persecution, the Trump administration has sent a dangerous message that in a multiracial democracy, the loss of white dominance is equivalent to persecution — a narrative that has been actively promoted in public discourse by a fringe group of MAGA movements. In this narrative, South Africa becomes a warning of what awaits the United States should Black and nonwhite Americans gain political power, even though white South Africans still control a disproportionate share of the country's wealth, including an estimated 73 percent of private farmland. As America becomes a more diverse nation, those who equate whiteness with greatness see this shift not as progress, but as a threat. Congress must demand answers from the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. On what grounds were white Afrikaners granted expedited status while thousands of others, many with proven claims of persecution, wait in limbo or are deported? Answering this question is not only essential to protect the integrity of the refugee system, but also to preserve the very foundation of a multiracial democracy. Lok Darjee is a former Bhutanese refugee from Nepal and the founder of Refugee Civic Action, a nonpartisan initiative mobilizing New Americans to participate in U.S. democracy. He is a freelance writer and commentator on democracy, immigration, refugee issues and foreign policy.
The Citizen
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Citizen
Bustling New York
The city that never sleeps. 'In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there's nothing you can't do…' Those words by Alicia Keys echoed as my flight touched down at JFK International Airport on my first visit to the United States – and there was no better soundtrack. So many times I have heard about places like God's Window in Mpumalanga, which turned out to be quite underwhelming. But the phrase 'The city that never sleeps' in countless songs, films and television shows is simply true. Nothing prepared me for the raw, relentless energy that is New York City. It is more than a city; it is a living, breathing organism, pulsing through the night with an unmatched rhythm. A heartbeat that you cannot just hear, you feel it. It's in the steam rising from the manholes, the distant sirens, the rumble of the underground trains beneath your feet and the chatter in different languages. It didn't take long for the cinematic moments to come alive, finally seeing all that I have watched on sitcoms and movie series. I felt like an extra in an imaginary re-shoot of The Devil Wears Prada, strolling briskly down Fifth Avenue, dodging yellow cabs that hooted even before the traffic lights changed. Everyone seemed to have to be somewhere else – urgently. As you take it all in – the towering skyscrapers that curved into the clouds, the pedestrians with coffee (Starbucks) cups in one hand and cellphones in the other, and AirPods everywhere, fast walking… It was intense, yet strangely addictive. I walked about 10km on my first day. Kabelo Chabalala in New York. Picture: Kabelo Chabalala ALSO READ: Travel alert: Two less visa-free entries for SA passport holders A city of moments, big and small My first night out happened to be my birthday. My new friends and I went to Times Square. I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate than being surrounded by the electric chaos of one of the world's most iconic locations. I wanted to see the city under the stars – or rather, under the blinding, cinematic glow of 3D Out-Of-Home digital screens flashing larger-than-life campaigns. Even at midnight, Times Square buzzed with life. It felt surreal, like a giant birthday candle just for me. I soaked it all in – street performers, tourists and a sensory overload that made me feel like I'd walked into a dream. Then, when hunger pangs arrived, I turned to something I'd only seen in American sitcoms: the New York slice. They say everything is bigger in America – and they weren't lying. The pizza slice I was served could've easily passed for an entire pie back home. It was thin, greasy and divine. Standing on a random street corner with a slice of pepperoni pizza that folded perfectly in my hand, I suddenly understood why New Yorkers are so devoted to their food. Picture: Kabelo Chabalala I made it a point to explore the city on foot and via the subway, to absorb the atmosphere. There's an unspoken culture on subway trains. People plugged into their music, flipping through books, or quietly observing the bustle around them. You quickly learn the rules: don't stare, don't speak unless spoken to, and always let people off before you get on. As I wandered through the boroughs, I began to appreciate the city's layered identity. The aromas shifted from street to street – Korean BBQ in Koreatown, fresh bagels in Jewish delis, halal food carts offering chicken over rice, and the unmistakable scent of roasted peanuts from a street vendor. One of the most awe-inspiring moments was crossing the Brooklyn Bridge. I did it on foot, taking my time to absorb the view of Manhattan's skyline from a distance. The bridge itself, with its Gothic arches and steel cables, is more than a feat of engineering – it's a work of art. Picture: Kabelo Chabalala Pausing halfway and looking over the East River, I reflected on how many people before me had walked that same path chasing dreams, recovering from heartache, making memories. Another highlight was the yellow taxi ride. There's something undeniably cinematic about hailing a cab in New York. My driver asked where I was from. When I said South Africa, his eyes lit up and we had a lovely conversation about Joburg, Trevor Noah and amapiano. It struck me how wonderfully connected the world can be, even in the backseat of a cab in the middle of New York. A deeply meaningful experience during my trip was visiting the United Nations headquarters, where I spent most of my time. Standing there, where world leaders gather to shape global discourse, gave me goose bumps. It's one thing to know the UN exists – it's another to walk through its corridors and see the flags of every nation waving proudly, including my own. I was not just a visitor; I was a young African man standing on international ground, carrying the hopes and dreams of home. Before I said my goodbyes to the city, I indulged in a bit of retail therapy. Shopping in New York is an experience all on its own. From luxury department stores to quirky pop-up shops, every street corner offers temptation. While exploring Midtown, I found myself standing before the New York Times Building. For a writer, this was no ordinary building – it was a cathedral of storytelling. There was something sacred about being so close to the very structure where countless headlines had been born, where narratives that shape the world are crafted every day. And then – the burger. No fast-food chain or glossy menu could have prepared me for this particular experience. I had it in a tiny, tucked-away diner. But the moment I took my first bite, I understood why American burgers are in a league of their own. The patty was juicy, perfectly seasoned and grilled with care. It came loaded with cheddar, crisp lettuce, tomatoes, gherkins and a soft, lightly toasted bun. The chips (or fries, as I was quickly corrected) were golden and addictive. Every bite was layered, flavourful and deeply satisfying. I've eaten many burgers before, but this one will live in my memory for a very long time. On my final day, I retreated to Central Park in search of stillness amid the chaos. I found a quiet moment to reflect. It's fascinating how a place so alive can also offer you peace. Picture: Kabelo Chabalala NOW READ: Got to hand it to the king
Global News
24-04-2025
- Global News
Security footage shows how stowaway slipped past security, boarded flight
Newly released surveillance footage shows how a Russian national stowaway was able to slip past security at JFK International Airport in New York and successfully board a flight to France. Security camera video, provided by the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey to The Associated Press on Wednesday after a records request, shows Svetlana Dali not only eluding gate agents checking boarding passes for the Delta Air Lines flight last November, but also going through security undetected earlier in the day, despite being screened and getting patted down. Dali, 57, was taken into custody in Paris in late November 2024, after she snuck onto a flight without a boarding pass on Nov. 26 and flew all the way to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, apparently concealing herself by spending long periods of time in the plane's multiple bathrooms. Story continues below advertisement She was detained when authorities discovered she didn't have a valid visa to enter the country, French National Police said at the time. 1:54 Woman who stowed away on NY flight to Paris appears in court According to court documents, viewed by The Associated Press, Dali was initially turned away from security screening at JFK International Airport by a Transportation Security Administration officer after she failed to produce a boarding pass. Get breaking National news For news impacting Canada and around the world, sign up for breaking news alerts delivered directly to you when they happen. Sign up for breaking National newsletter Sign Up By providing your email address, you have read and agree to Global News' Terms and Conditions and Privacy Policy However, the documents claim she was able to sneak into a separate security lane for airline employees and blend in with a large Air Europa flight crew, making it to the point where bags are inspected and passengers screened. The security footage shared Wednesday shows Dali joining a group of passengers boarding the flight and strolling past the Delta agents checking tickets without being stopped. After she was arrested on French soil, two unsuccessful attempts were made to deport her back to the U.S., but both were postponed after she 'started screaming' and kicking up a fuss once aboard the departing planes. Story continues below advertisement She was finally brought back to the U.S. on Dec. 4 and arrested by the FBI. Despite a Dec. 6 court hearing that ordered her not to leave Philadelphia and being outfitted with an ankle monitor until her trial, Dali was not deterred. She was arrested in Buffalo, N.Y., several days later, having allegedly cut off her monitor before making her way to upstate New York, where she rode a bus toward the Canadian border. She was arrested while trying to cross into Canada. She is being held in a federal lockup in Brooklyn, records show. Dali has pleaded not guilty to a stowaway charge over the incident last November. Her trial is set to begin next month but prosecutors and her lawyer have said they are trying to work toward a plea deal.
