People don't eat ideology? Then why are you eating xenophobia?

"People don't eat ideology." You hear it all the time from certain corners, don't you? It's the kind of phrase that gets tossed around by politicians who've run out of ideas, by social media commentators looking for a quick hit, or by opportunists who haven't really thought through society's problems, let alone found solutions.

It sounds like common sense, and that's exactly what makes it so dangerous. After all, who can actually eat a political theory? Can a philosophy book feed your family? Will an ideological pamphlet pay the rent? It sounds smart, right? But only because no one ever really stops to think about it. Because while people might not physically eat ideology, they certainly starve because of it.

Think about it: the way our economy is structured, who owns what, how the labour market works, how land is distributed, these aren't just random facts. They're all deeply ideological. The very organization of global capitalism is ideological. The reasons millions remain unemployed? Ideological. The conditions under which a tiny elite hoards obscene wealth? Also, ideological. So, to claim that ideology doesn't matter isn't actually rejecting ideology. It's an attempt to keep people from understanding the ideological roots of their own suffering.

We're facing a crisis in South Africa, one that many are reluctant to name. It's not just an economic crisis, and it's not just about governance. It's a deeper crisis of consciousness. The liberation movement that once gave us intellectual giants now seems to produce mostly political consumers. A nation that used to fiercely debate colonialism, capitalism, race, class, and liberation now spends its days sifting through social media rumours and WhatsApp conspiracy theories.

Political education has been pushed aside for outrage. Careful analysis has given way to raw emotional reaction. Theory has been swapped for 'vibes.' The result? A political culture where the loudest voice often gets mistaken for the most informed one. This anti-intellectual shift isn't accidental. It serves a very specific purpose. When people truly understand systems, they start questioning those systems. But when they stop questioning systems, they start blaming victims. There's a clear reason why Afrophobia thrives wherever political education collapses. Someone with a scientific mindset, for instance, would ask: Why do we have such massive unemployment in South Africa? Why does poverty persist despite democratic rule? Why is wealth still so concentrated? Why is economic power still so detached from political power? These kinds of questions naturally lead us into discussions about colonialism, apartheid, capitalism, how classes formed, and global economic structures.

But the Afrophobe asks something completely different: "How many foreigners need to leave before my life gets better?" One question digs into systems. The other just looks for scapegoats. One leads to political understanding. The other fuels mob politics. The casual dismissal of ideology, this anti-intellectual stance, creates perfect conditions for Afrophobia. It discourages any real structural analysis. When people stop asking why poverty exists, they very quickly start asking who they can blame for it. The easiest target is always someone who seems poorer, weaker, or more vulnerable than themselves.

So, suddenly, the unemployed South African is pointing fingers at the unemployed Zimbabwean. The struggling worker turns on the struggling migrant. The township entrepreneur blames the street trader. All the while, the actual structures generating poverty remain completely untouched. Capitalists celebrate. The poor end up fighting amongst themselves. This is exactly where Haniism-Bikoism comes into the conversation. What you could call Scientific Socialism with Afrocentric Characteristics starts from a simple, clear observation: You can't fully grasp contemporary South Africa with just class analysis or just Black Consciousness on their own.

Steve Biko was spot on when he said the oppressor's most powerful weapon is the mind of the oppressed. Chris Hani understood that political liberation without real economic transformation would just recreate inequality under a new flag. So, a Haniist-Bikoist approach says we need both. Black Consciousness alone, without actual economic change, can easily become just symbolism, without any real power. And economic transformation without consciousness? That just means new managers, but the same old domination. The struggle, then, is simultaneously psychological, political, cultural, and economic. Freeing the African mind and freeing the African worker are two sides of the same coin.

This Scientific Socialism, with its Afrocentric lens, rejects three dominant trends we see in South African politics today. First, it says no to neoliberalism. The market simply can not solve the very problems that market domination created. Second, it rejects narrow racial chauvinism. An African revolutionary can't talk about African unity on Monday and then hunt fellow Africans on Tuesday. Third, it rejects anti-intellectual populism. The people deserve genuine political education, not manipulation.

This framework is built on six key ideas:

1. Political education isn't just a good idea; it's a revolutionary necessity.

2. Pan-African solidarity is the only real cure for Afrophobia.

3. You can't have true political democracy without economic democracy.

4. Black consciousness is still vital in a society where colonial ways of thinking persist.

5. The class struggle remains necessary in a society still built on economic exploitation.

6. Revolutionary action needs to come from clear, scientific analysis, not just emotion, prejudice, or populist noise.

That slogan, "people don't eat ideology," actually tells us something important. Its popularity reflects a society that's become increasingly suspicious of thinking itself. The anti-intellectual wants quick fixes but refuses to investigate the causes. They demand outcomes but skip the analysis. They want answers without asking questions and transformation without any underlying theory. But that's simply impossible. No engineer builds without a blueprint. No doctor treats without a diagnosis. No revolutionary can transform society without first understanding it. Refusing to think isn't pragmatism; it's surrender.

South Africa is truly at a crossroads. One path leads toward deeper political education, Pan-African solidarity, and revolutionary consciousness. The other takes us down a road of anti-intellectualism, scapegoating, and permanent social fragmentation. One path asks difficult questions. The other just offers easy enemies. One creates citizens. The other creates mobs.

The task for our generation isn't just about winning elections. It's about rebuilding consciousness. Because people who stop thinking critically about their own conditions become incredibly vulnerable to every charlatan, every demagogue, and every merchant of hate. No, people don't eat ideology. But without it, they might just end up consuming something far more dangerous: their own future.