CAPE TOWN, South Africa — In a quiet suburb just outside Pretoria, Johan van Rensburg tends to the gravestone of his grandfather, a Boer War veteran. The land has belonged to his family for four generations. “This is my country,” he says, adjusting his hat under the sweltering African sun. “My blood is in this soil.”
Despite rising tensions, land expropriation concerns, and an international spotlight on South Africa’s post-apartheid struggles, van Rensburg, like many Afrikaners, is not prepared to leave.
Yet thousands of kilometres away, in Washington, D.C., immigration policy during the Trump administration extended a peculiar invitation: to recognize white South Africans, particularly Afrikaners and Boers, as a persecuted minority eligible for refugee resettlement. The policy, which saw a limited rollout before facing legal and political friction, has become a point of tension not just between the U.S. and South Africa, but within South Africa’s white community itself.
Historical Identity Clashes with Modern Politics
Afrikaners are the descendants of Dutch, German, and French settlers, many of whom arrived in South Africa as early as the 1600s. Despite their minority status, today making up less than 8% of the population, their influence over South African history, infrastructure, and agriculture has been considerable.
With the end of apartheid in 1994 and the African National Congress (ANC) coming to power, a slow erosion of political control began for many white South Africans, sparking fears over safety, land reform, and social marginalization.
Former President Donald Trump’s public attention to the issue in 2018, amplified by conservative media outlets, cast white South Africans as potential victims of political retribution, specifically land expropriation without compensation.
Trump’s tweet referencing the “large-scale killing of farmers” led to widespread misinformation, yet also prompted the Department of Homeland Security to quietly begin evaluating asylum cases from South African farmers, particularly white Afrikaners, under criteria used for persecuted groups.
But many Afrikaners rejected the notion.
“We Are Not Refugees”
In Bloemfontein, Annelize Botha, a schoolteacher and mother of three, was approached by an immigration consultancy offering to help her relocate to the United States under Trump’s program. She declined. “To say we are refugees is an honour to everything our grandparents built,” she says. “We have problems, but I have a mortgage, a family, a business—I am not running from war.”
This sentiment echoes across thousands of Afrikaner households. While South Africa’s crime rate remains high, and political rhetoric around land expropriation continues to stoke fear, many view emigration as surrender.
Community institutions, such as Afriforum, a civil rights group advocating for Afrikaner culture and language rights, have also rejected refugee framing. They argue that white South Africans are not stateless, nor are they without access to political or economic recourse.
A Complicated Offer Met with Reluctance
According to figures from the State Department’s Refugee Processing Center, only a small fraction of South African applicants under the Trump-era resettlement policies were ever granted refugee status in the U.S.
This is mainly due to the complex qualifications required: claimants must prove a well-founded fear of persecution due to race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion.
By economic metrics, most Afrikaners remain middle- to upper-middle-class, with property and employment. While violent farm attacks do occur—and have been widely publicized—the majority of victims span all racial lines, including Black and colored farmers.
South African police statistics and independent research groups confirm that while the perception of targeted white violence is persistent, the data does not conclusively support a systemic campaign against white landowners.
Case Study: The Roets Family’s Emigration and Return
In 2020, Pieter and Christa Roets accepted a visa through a legal channel similar to the refugee pathway offered under Trump’s administration. They relocated to Texas with their two young daughters, citing safety concerns and growing unease over land reform proposals. However, within three years, they returned.
“We couldn’t find belonging,” Christa explains. “Our culture was foreign, our education wasn’t recognized, and we were always asked why we came when we weren’t ‘really’ refugees.” Pieter adds, “The promise of safety doesn’t replace the sense of home.”
The Roets’ experience highlights an undercurrent often overlooked in immigration politics: migration is not just about escape—it’s about identity. For many Afrikaners, the emotional cost of starting anew outweighs the physical risks they face.
The Global Optics of Race and Refugeehood
The U.S. offer to white South Africans also created international controversy. Human rights groups and immigration scholars questioned why predominantly white applicants were being prioritized when millions of refugees of colour, mainly from war-torn regions like Syria, Somalia, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, faced far greater hardships and lower approval rates.
“The optics of this policy were troubling,” said a former USCIS asylum officer who asked not to be named. “We had thousands of vetted asylum seekers from Central America and Africa denied, but suddenly white South Africans were being encouraged to apply based on political fear. That undermines the moral integrity of our refugee system.”
Afrikaner Resilience and Reinvention
While some white South Africans continue to explore options abroad—Canada, New Zealand, and the Netherlands being preferred over the U.S.—a significant portion are committed to staying. Farming cooperatives, local safety initiatives, and community self-reliance programs have become key to navigating ongoing challenges.
Organizations like Solidarity and Sakeliga have doubled down on creating parallel systems: independent schools, private security networks, and economic forums tailored to protect Afrikaner interests without invoking separatism.
There is also a generational divide. Younger Afrikaners are more multicultural, often fluent in multiple languages, and engaged in post-apartheid reconciliation efforts. For them, the idea of leaving because of political fear seems an overreaction.
Where Amicus International Consulting Comes In: Legal Options Without the “Refugee” Label
For Afrikaners who do feel uncertain about the future—but don’t identify as refugees—Amicus International Consulting provides a nuanced, legal pathway to dual citizenship and second nationality programs without invoking asylum mechanisms.
Amicus specializes in legal identity change, second passport acquisition, and citizenship-by-investment strategies that are completely compliant with international law. These services are particularly attractive to those seeking long-term options for personal security, asset protection, or global mobility—without giving up their current citizenship or declaring themselves in crisis.
“Many of our South African clients are not looking to flee,” says an Amicus representative. “They’re looking to diversify their options, prepare for political volatility, or ensure their families can live, study, and invest abroad. We help them do that legally, ethically, and quietly.”
Popular Services Offered by Amicus Include:
- Second Citizenship Programs in countries like Dominica, Grenada, Antigua, Malta, and Turkey, offering visa-free travel and tax-efficient residency.
- Right-of-Blood Ancestry Citizenship Applications for Afrikaners with ties to Dutch, German, or French heritage.
- Asset Protection Trusts and Offshore Banking Solutions paired with new legal identity frameworks.
- Digital Identity Rebuilding, for those concerned about political targeting, cybercrime, or misinformation.
- Family Relocation Planning, including educational placement and integration support in stable jurisdictions.
Unlike refugee or asylum channels, which often require applicants to make claims of persecution or distress, Amicus facilitates proactive, preemptive legal relocation based on existing legal frameworks and global migration treaties.
A Future Beyond Borders
As South Africa continues to grapple with its land reform legacy, political challenges, and rising inequality, many Afrikaners find themselves walking a fine line between loyalty and self-preservation. While the Trump administration’s overture may have missed the cultural mark, it opened the door to a conversation about global mobility, legal options, and national identity.
Organizations like Amicus International Consulting are now offering a more realistic and respectful pathway: not to abandon one’s roots, but to create a second foothold in the world, ensuring freedom, security, and opportunity for future generations—without giving up one’s home.
As the van Rensburgs, the Bothas, and the Roets families demonstrate, the desire to stay does not conflict with the right to prepare. South Africa may be home—but the world, increasingly, is an open map.
? Contact Information
Phone: +1 (604) 200-5402
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.amicusint.ca
