Refugee camps explained: why South Africa has avoided them
South Africa started processing undocumented migrants at a temporary repatriation centre in Musina, a border town with Zimbabwe, inJuly 2026. This followed weeks ofintensified anti-migrant rhetoric and. . .
South Africa started processing undocumented migrants at a temporary repatriation centre in Musina, a border town with Zimbabwe, inJuly 2026. This followed weeks ofintensified anti-migrant rhetoric and xenophobic violence. The facility hasraised questionsabout whether the country could be moving towards a more camp-based approach to managing migrants and refugees. This would mark a significant departure from South Africa’s post-apartheidrefugee policy. South Africa has generally allowed refugees and asylum seekers to live, work and study in urban centres rather than confining them to designated refugee camps. As of 2025, the country hostedmore than 160,000 refugees and asylum seekersfrom places like Zimbabwe, Malawi, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Burundi. Franzisca Zanker and Ulrike Krause have studiedrefugee governanceandencampmentacross Africa, including inSouth Africa. As migration becomes an increasingly charged political issue in South Africa, they examine what refugee encampment is. Who counts as a refugee and what are the legal protections in place?Legally speaking, all refugees are migrants. But not all migrants are refugees. Arefugeeis someone who has crossed an international border in search of protection because they fear persecution on the grounds of race, religion, nationality, political opinion or membership of a particular social group. International law sets out protections for people in these circumstances, most notably through the1951 Refugee Convention with its 1967 protocol. In Africa, the1969 Conventionof the then Organisation of African Unity broadened the definition of a refugee to include people fleeing external aggression, occupation or events seriously disturbing public order. These conventions are, however, historical documents. They were drafted largely incolonialor earlypost-colonial contexts, leading toseveral blind spots. A criticism is that they don’t adequately account for contemporary forms of displacement, such as those driven by climate change. In reality, the definition ofwho is a migrant or a refugee is often blurred. Like all international legal documents, the refugee conventions should be read as “living instruments”. This means they can be reinterpreted as circumstances change. How does South Africa’s refugee system work?South Africa hadover 167,000refugees and asylum seekers in 2025, mostly living in urban communities. An asylum seeker is an individual whose claim to refugee status hasn’t yet been legally processed or decided. Asylum seekers mustrenew temporary section 22 permits, typically every six months, at refugee reception offices. This places a heavy burden on them. Many asylum claims are rejected at the first stage, and the appeals process is lengthy. Anaudit in 2019 revealedthat, at the time, it would take 68 years to clear the appeals backlog. In 2026, funding for the Refugee Appeals Authority of South Africa wascut, reducing its adjudication panel from 36 members to just nine. Asylum seekers now wait forfive to 10 years or longerfor a decision. During this time, theyface restrictionson work, study, movement and access to humanitarian assistance. The legal framework around refugees and asylum seekers is also evolving. In May 2026, the constitutional courtruledthat asylum seekers whose applications, including appeals, have been rejected do not necessarily have the right to reapply as refugees. The Department of Home Affairs celebrated this asa win. Two months later, the same courtruledthat procedural failures, such as not obtaining a section 22 permit within five days of entering the country, are not sufficient grounds to disqualify someone from seeking refugee status. This time, the human rights organisation Scalabrinicelebrated. It is this arduous process for asylum seekers, the changing and complex legal system, and the need for humanitarian assistance for some asylum seekers that raises the question: would camps be a better way forward while they wait?In other words, would camps offer a solution for protection? Or would they reduce the rights of refugees and asylum seekers in a country oncelauded as exemplary?What does the evidence show about refugee camps and protection?Refugee camps are humanitarian and political spaces established to provide refugees with settlement, protection and assistance, particularly following large-scale movements to host states. Host governments decide whether to establish camps and how they operate, but they often work closely with humanitarian agencies. The UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) is central here, given itsglobal mandateto safeguard refugees and their rights. In practice, governments frequently collaborate with UNHCR to manage camps and coordinate NGOs that provide services like shelter, food, water and healthcare. Although camps are intended astemporary spaces of protection, many lastyears or even decades. They remain designed as provisional structures even as they evolve into long-term infrastructures. And despite the protection focus, camps are not safe havens. Scholars have described them asspaces of order and control, a form of “human warehousing” and “sites of non-existence”. They are run by political actors that control refugees’ daily lives. UNHCR relies on host states for access and donor states for funding to offer protection. The legal basis for encampment is also contested. The1951 Refugee Conventiondoes not require refugees to be housed in camps. Encampment is a policy choice, not a legal obligation. Yet camps have become the default humanitarian response and often harshly limitrefugees’ rightto freedom of movement. What are the challenges of refugee camps?Once established, camps bring a range of difficulties for the people who live in them. Harsh living conditions and human rights abuses are well documented. These includegender-based and sexual violence, theeveryday denial of rights and limited legal support,economic marginalisation,restricted political participationand overall structural “containment”. Living conditions are, therefore, typically difficult. Camps are mostly deliberatelylocatedin remote areas, cutting residents off physically, socially and economically from surrounding host communities. Livelihoods suffer as a result. Decisions about shelter and daily life are made by aid and government actors. Does the temporary repatriation centre in Musina signal a change of South African policy towards refugee camps?TheMusina centreis not a UNHCR-run refugee centre. There is also no indication it’s supposed to become one. The Revised White Paper on Citizenship, Immigration and Refugee Protection, approved bycabinet in 2026, contains no plans to establish refugee camps. Even so, several issues deserve attention. First, UNHCR is facinghuge funding cuts, in line with humanitarian assistance more generally. It is looking to downsize rather than build up new camps. As of 30 June 2026, only18% of its annual budgetis funded for its multi-country operation covering South Africa, Botswana, and Namibia. Second, setting up camps in impoverished contexts can alwaysraise tensions with host communitieswho also need humanitarian assistance. In an environment where xenophobic violence is partly fuelled by tensions between refugees and host communities, this is far from ideal. Third, the current trend is to move away from encampment, as seen inKenya, for instance. Letting the free market and self-settlement take care of refugees canbe highly problematic. But it is within this space that South Africa is more likely to find a sustainable path forward – one that remains true to its protection obligations while enabling refugees to contribute to, and benefit from, the communities in which they live. Franzisca Zanker receives funding from the European Union (ERC, PolMig, 101161856). Views and opinions expressed are however those of the author only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Research Council. Neither the European Union nor the granting authority can be held responsible for them. Ulrike Krause does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment. By Franzisca Zanker, Senior researcher, Arnold Bergstraesser Institute AndUlrike Krause, Professor of Political Science, University of Münster