Sunday, September 29, 2019

Two crime hotspots still without permanent police stations

Five years after Khayelitsha Commission of Inquiry, recommendation to build new station still not implemented

Photo of temporary station
The Khayelitsha Commission of Inquiry in 2014 recommended a new police station for Makhaza. But there is still no clue when the area will get a permanent one. Photo: Masixole Feni
Residents living in two areas whose recorded murders are among the highest in the country are still without permanent police stations.

In Makhaza residents told GroundUp they spent at least R40 for a round trip to the nearest police station in Harare. The land earmarked for the construction of a new police station in Makhaza remains empty. While in Samora Machel, the Community Policing Forum spokesperson said he is satisfied with the temporary station placed there ten months ago, which serves thousands in the area.

In the 2018/19 crime statistics, Samora Machel falls under Nyanga and Makhaza falls under Khayelitsha. Nyanga is the precinct with the highest number of murders in the country at 289. Not far behind, in third, was Khayelitsha with 221 murders.

Makhaza

The land where the police station is meant to be built is still vacant. Despite attempts to find out more about the expected construction, the South African Police Service (SAPS) has been tight-lipped about exactly when building would start. This comes nearly five years after the Khayelitsha Commission of Inquiry made findings and recommendations.

Recommendation 19 of 20 made by the Commission stated that a new police station should be established at Makhaza. The community has been waiting for its station since 2004.
But in 2019 Makhaza residents still have to travel by taxi to the nearest station in Harare — more than 5km away — to report a crime.

National police spokesperson Colonel Athlenda Mathe said: “Makhaza police station is in the planning and design phase, at a very advanced stage.” She provided no time frames for the construction of the building.

The Social Justice Coalition (SJC) has been at the forefront of campaigning for the implementation of the Commission’s recommendations. The SJC’s head of policy and research, Dali Weyers, said the organisation had “no correspondence with or from SAPS” about the construction of the Makhaza police station.

Weyers said that the SAPS annual report for 2016/17 stated that it had failed to acquire the land in Makhaza for the station. But a more recent report for 2017/18 stated that the land acquisition had been finalised by 20 February 2018. “The ‘very advanced stage’ response from SAPS, without additional and clear time frames is problematic,” said Weyers.

Samora Machel

In December 2018, GroundUp reported that a temporary police station had been placed in Samora Machel. This after Minister of Police Bheki Cele announced in May last year that the area would get a permanent police station by 2023. But some residents in the area say the temporary station has already brought much-needed relief.

“Let us get one thing straight, Samora does not have a temporary or mobile police station; we have a fully fledged police station with a full complement of staff members,” said Samora Machel’s community policing forum spokesperson Bongani Maqungwana.

He said it was important to mention that Samora Machel stopped falling under Nyanga since December. “Our police station services Sweet Home Farm, Kosovo and Heinz Park. The recent crime statistics are a reflection of 2018/2019 when Samora was still under Nyanga,” he said.

Maqungwana said that since the station was opened, there has been a significant decline in crime. “Even though we are still struggling with the increment of officers and vehicles, I have to compliment them because our police are visible. They have an open door policy so the community feels free to report crimes.” He said the brick building, expected next year, is still needed. The current station consists of prefabricated structures.

Colonel Mathe told GroundUp that the prefabricated structures are an “interim solution” but did not say when the permanent station would be built.

© 2019 GroundUp.
 27 September 2019   By

Friday, August 9, 2019

Cape Town's bloody gang violence is inextricably bound up in its history






Today’s gang violence on the Cape Flats can’t be divorced from Cape Town’s history of forced removals.
EQRoy/Shutterstock/Editorial use only



When the apartheid government decided to evict people it called Coloured from Cape Town’s inner city, it set off a chain reaction that now requires military intervention.

More than 50 years on from the mass evictions that drove anyone who wasn’t white from the city centre, the South African National Defence Force has moved in to guard the areas known collectively as the Cape Flats. It was to these places that Coloured people were pushed by the Group Areas Act. So it’s necessary to look to history – which I’ve explored in a number of my books, most recently Gang Town – as violence in suburbs far from the city centre escalates.

Given the framework within which removals under the Group Areas Act took place in Cape Town, a social disaster was inevitable. As the familiar social landmarks in the closely grained working-class communities of the old city were ripped up, a whole culture began to disintegrate.

Networks of kin, friendship, neighbourhood and work were destroyed. The streets, houses and corner shops that also formed networks were torn away. With this destruction the mixture of rights and obligations, intimacies and distances, solidarity, local loyalties and traditions that bound established communities dissipated.

Above all, what the Group Areas Act’s inroads into the culture of the older districts fundamentally disturbed was the organisation and role of the working-class family. One of the major problems that arose from all this was the collapse of social control over the youth. One of the greatest complaints about Group Areas removals was that individual families rather than whole neighbourhoods were moved to the Cape Flats.

Amid these complex developments and realities, gangs emerged. There had been smaller, less hierarchical and organised gangs in areas like District Six from which people were forcibly removed. But harsh conditions on the Cape Flats saw much fiercer gangs forming and increasing use of knives and, later, handguns.

Isolation and fear


The first effect of the removals into the high-rise schemes on the Cape Flats was to destroy the way the street, the corner shop and the shebeens in the “old” areas had provided the residents with a great measure of communal space. The new areas contained only the privatised space of small, nuclear family units.

These were stacked on top of each other in total isolation, juxtaposed with the totally public space surrounding them – a space that lacked any of the informal social controls generated by their former neighbourhoods. A key control was that houses in the old areas had verandas where older people would sit and informally police the streets. On the Cape Flats you were either behind a door or on the street.

The destruction of the neighbourhood street also blew out the candle of household production, craft industries and services. The result was a gradual polarisation of the labour force into those with more specialised, skilled or better paid jobs; those with the dead-end, low-paid jobs; and the unemployed.

As the new housing pattern dispersed the kinship network, so the isolated family could no longer call on the resources of the extended family or the neighbourhood. The nuclear family itself became the sole focus of solidarity.

This meant that problems tended to be bottled up within the immediate interpersonal context that produced them. At the same time, family relationships gathered a new intensity to compensate for the diversity of relationships previously generated through neighbours and wider kinship ties.

Pressures gradually built up, which many newly nuclear families were unable to deal with. The working-class household was thus not only isolated from the outside, but also undermined from within. The main, and understandable, product of this isolation was fear: fear of neighbours, of unknown people, of gangs and of the strange dynamics of the new environment.




The author discussing his book “Gang Town”



These pressures weighed heavily on the house-bound mothers. The street was no longer a safe place for children to play in and there were no longer neighbours or kin to supervise them. The only play-space that felt safe was “the home”, the small flat. As stresses began to build up within the nuclear family, what had once been a base for support and security now tended to become a battleground, a major focus of all the anxieties created by the disorganisation of community.

One route out of the claustrophobic tensions of family life was the use of alcohol and drugs. This became the standard path of many men. Children were shaken loose in different ways. One way was into early sexual relationships and perhaps marriage.

Another was into the fierce youth subcultures on the streets which became ritualised in the violent youth-gang culture, reinforcing the neighbourhood climate of fear. The situation was to be compounded by rising unemployment at the younger end of a potential labour force and the consolidation of illegal markets that required “soldiers” to protect.

What these gangs did in order to survive in the face of tremendous odds was to rebuild the lost organisation and domestic economy in the new housing-estates. This time, however, their customers and they themselves were often also their victims.

Then came 1994 and the newly elected African National Congress (ANC) government inherited, in Cape Town, a working class that was like a routed, scattered army, dotted in confusion about the land of their birth.

The ultimate losers in this type of claustrophobic atmosphere are the working-class families. For those scattered across the Cape Flats, the emotional brutality dealt out to them in the name of rational urban planning has been incalculable. The only defence the young people have had has been to build something coherent out of the one thing they had left – each other.

Too little too late


Bringing soldiers onto the Cape Flats is too little and too late to unscramble the political omelette. What’s needed is not repression but contrition, better intelligence and the rebuilding of damaged communities whiplashed by gunfire.The Conversation

Don Pinnock, Research fellow, criminologist, University of Cape Town

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

South Africa's finances are in bad shape. It's running out of time to fix them






Under President Jacob Zuma the economy didn’t recover as much as it should have from the global financial crisis.
Shutterstock

South Africa’s public finances are in a perilous state. There are four main reasons for this. First, economic growth is low or non-existent. Second, tax revenue collection is repeatedly below forecasts. Third, debt levels have risen rapidly and are now at their highest levels in the post-apartheid era. Fourth, the poor performance of state-owned enterprises is necessitating large-scale government support.

Recent developments since the tabling of the 2019/20 Budget in February 2019 have only made the situation worse. A downgrade of government debt to ‘junk’ by a third ratings agency will lead to an outflow of investment and exacerbate matters further. South Africa is, in fact, fortunate that this has not already happened.

The state of South Africa’s public finances is the outcome of different dynamics in three, overlapping periods. The first was the period after the 2008 global financial crisis. The second was the period under the continued presidency of Jacob Zuma. And the third has been the period since Zuma was succeeded by Cyril Ramaphosa. Careful consideration of these periods contradict widely-circulated claims in the political space.

Some have claimed that South Africa’s woes began with Zuma but this is not true. The first shock to the economy under public finances was the global financial crisis. Others have claimed that Zuma is not responsible for poor economic and public finance performance, but this is also not true. South African economic performance should have been able to recover to a much greater degree than it did under the era of his leadership. Government revenue collection seems to have been negatively affected by institutional destabilisation of the South African Revenue Service.

Finally, the deterioration of economic indicators (growth and employment), along with further underperformance of revenue collection and public finances more broadly, is being laid at the door of Ramaphosa’s presidency. That is simply implausible.

The deterioration can often be linked to factors that preceded Ramaphosa’s replacement of Zuma in early 2018. Admittedly, Ramaphosa has not helped his case by making promises about job creation, for instance, that may be outside the ability of the state to deliver.

Understanding why such claims are likely to be wrong is important not just because of attributing blame, but in order to understand what the fundamental drivers are behind the country’s current state and future trajectory.

Recycled disagreements


Unfortunately, beyond blame, much of the policy discussion is characterised by recycled disagreements. These date to the era in which the African National Congress (ANC) government adopted the Growth, Employment and Redistribution (GEAR) strategy – which was opposed and resented by left-wing parts of the ANC alliance. That strategy was largely concerned with reducing the debt levels the new democratic government inherited from its apartheid predecessors.

For example, left-wing commentators have argued for expansionary fiscal policy. This basically means increasing government spending to a significant degree. They have also claimed that National Treasury implemented ‘austerity’ after 2008. This is incoherent. First, South Africa actually adopted a ‘countercyclical’ approach after 2008: government spending increased faster than revenue. That is how the country’s debt initially escalated.

Second, increasing government expenditure in the manner proposed is, at best, a very high risk strategy. With the country’s public finances already under strain, an increase in expenditure that does not deliver significant increases in economic growth and tax collection will lead to a dramatic deterioration in public finances. That could cause harm for generations to come. These risks, which seem more likely than the benefits, are never mentioned by populists who simply regurgitate arguments from earlier eras.

The reality is that even though Treasury attempted to maintain government spending to support the economy during the aftermath of the global financial crisis, and then attempted to stabilise debt levels using a policy of ‘fiscal consolidation’, it has been unable to do either. The economy has not recovered, arguably due in significant part to the ravages of state capture and other state failures in the Zuma era. Debt targets have been regularly missed. At one point national government debt was expected to stabilised below 45% of GDP, now it has gone above 60% and may reach 70% of GDP within a few years.

There is no consensus among economists or other public finance experts on a specific threshold that is tolerable. What is clear though is that the higher the amount of debt relative to the size of the economy, the greater the risk. This is especially true where economic growth is lacklustre, as it has been in South Africa for some years.

Recent developments have only made the situation more dire. In the 2019 Budget, Treasury indicated that it would have to breach its expenditure ceiling for the first time in order to give support to national power utility Eskom amounting to R23 billion per year for an intended 10 years. That was despite planned cuts to public service employment and additional tax measures.

Since then, Eskom was given a lower-than expected tariff increase by the National Energy Regulator (NERSA). National government has also tabled an additional proposal to give Eskom a further R59 billion over two years.

It seems unlikely that government will be able to cut such vast sums in other parts of the state, not least at such short notice, with the result that debt targets will be exceeded again. And despite the money being poured into Eskom, there is no clear indication of the overall plan to stabilise the utility’s finances.

Meanwhile various other risks, like South African Airways, the Road Accident Fund and medical negligence lawsuits, continue to linger in the background. Economic growth and job creation are virtually non-existent, and both are below population growth. This means a higher unemployment rate and less national wealth per person.

In the face of the crisis with Eskom, public finances and economic growth, the only way to proceed is to secure a societal agreement on the way forward that recognises the need for sacrifices in the face of the crisis. Ramaphosa is uniquely equipped to secure a ‘social compact’ of this kind. But he is moving too slowly. This may be due in part to incessant factional battles in the ANC and an unprecedented assault on Ramaphosa and close allies like Public Enterprises Minister Pravin Gordhan that is being conducted through the Office of the Public Protector.

The president is also heavily reliant on advisers, his Cabinet and senior government officials – few of whom have shown that they can deliver on such a weighty responsibility. But as others have noted: if the country fails to agree in time, decisions will be forced upon it. And under such dire circumstances there will be less opportunity to protect vulnerable citizens with the least to sacrifice.The Conversation

Seán Mfundza Muller, Senior Lecturer in Economics and Research Associate at the Public and Environmental Economics Research Centre (PEERC), University of Johannesburg

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

Friday, July 12, 2019

South African probe into corruption awaits a star witness -- Jacob Zuma






Former South African President Jacob Zuma.
GCIS



It’s been almost a year since the Commission of Inquiry into allegations of state capture in South Africa began to hear testimony. Also known as the Zondo Commission, it is headed by Deputy Chief Justice Zondo Raymond, who has listened to 130 days of live testimony from more than 80 people. It is probing allegations that the government was captured by private business interests for their own benefit.

During it all, echoes of former South African President Jacob Zuma’s alleged involvement have become deafening. Through various testimony, Zuma has been directly implicated by current and former senior government officials and ministers. They have alleged, among other things, that Zuma leaned on them to help the Guptas – Zuma’s friends who are accused of having captured the state – and to fast-track a nuclear deal with Russia that would have bankrupted South Africa. Also, the governance failures that have resulted in the looting of parastatals, have been blamed squarely on state capture.

Zuma’s turn to give evidence has arrived. Not only does he deny that state capture exists – he’s called it a fake political tool – he’s also cast himself as a hapless victim.

Refusing to engage the concept, he said:

There are people who did things to others in one form or the other‚ and you can call it in any other name‚ not this big name “state capture”.

The allegations against him are that he orchestrated a network of corruption that hijacked South Africa’s developmental project.

The importance of Zuma testifying before the commission should not be underestimated. It will set a precedent that will either show that those that abuse power will be held to account or that the cycle of impunity will continue, reinforcing the unjust systems that enable state capture.

Understanding state capture


Originally, the theoretical concept of state capture referred to a form of grand corruption. In the case of South Africa, it can be defined as the formation of a shadow state, directed by a power elite. This shadow state operates within – and parallel to – the constitutional state in formal and informal ways. Its objective is to re-purpose state governance, aligning it with the power elites’ narrow financial or political interests, for their benefit.

State capture rests on a strategy to align arms of state and public institutions and business to support rent-seeking.

In the events being scrutinised by the commission, the evidence being led shows that actors made sure that all the conditions were created and processes lined up to extract more money than the actual goods and services cost as a way to enrich themselves.

This reveals the systemic nature of state capture. To be successful, it requires the deep cooperation and complicity of the highest office in the land to secure rents, hollow out accountability and maintain legitimacy.

The graphic below, by Robyn Foley, a senior researcher the Centre for Complex Systems in Transition at Stellenbosch University, outlines the alleged strategy of capturing state-owned enterprises, installing compliant officials, undermining the functional operation of government institutions and discrediting critical voices.










The graphic points to a presidency where state capture became syndicated within the state and rent-seeking. Capture is a radical departure from the norms and values upon which a democratic developmental state depends. Like most liberal democracies, South Africa’s constitution provides for checks and balances that are supposed to limit such abuses of power. When these checks are undermined, and the balancing forces are biased, the system becomes a reinforcing loop of bad behaviour, spiralling towards an oligarchic authoritarian state.

In other words, a silent coup.

How did we get here?


Zuma set his presidency on the ticket of state-sponsored development. This entailed using state-owned enterprise procurement, tighter state control and Black Economic Empowerment to realise what has been termed radical economic transformation.

But it was precisely within this agenda, and the governance arrangements that supported it, that seeds for state capture were sown. Tighter state control meant that the flows of information were controlled by only a few, while state-owned enterprises used the biggest share of procurement rands.

There was already billions moving through these state owned enterprises and radical economic transformation was the perfect ideology to bring it all together.

But black business hardly benefited at all from the profits of state capture. If radical economic transformation were to be effected through the constitutional state, it would be enacted through economic policy that supported livelihoods and employment creation. In addition, state capture has hollowed out the very institutions that would have been able to realise radical economic transformation through the constitutional state.

The unravelling


Numerous events over the past decade point to a slowburn abuse of key state resources. One of the first was the irregular landing of a civilian plane at Waterkloof Military Air Base in 2013. The plane was carrying foreign guests to a family wedding hosted by Zuma’s friends, the Gupta family.

Two years later evidence emerged that millions of rands of public funds had been used illegally for upgrades to the then president’s Nkandla homestead. This spending was outlined in a report prepared by the former Public Protector Thuli Madonsela.

The turning point came only months after the release of the Public Protector’s State of Capture report, when Zuma fired then Finance Minister, Pravin Gordhan and his deputy, Mcebisi Jonas in March 2017. The events sent a shock wave through South Africa, triggering mass protests and mobilised public outrage, forcing Zuma to initiate the robust inquiry into state capture.

Our unpublished research shows that, to date, there have been 28 public state capture investigations, inquiries and commissions. There are also 118 outstanding cases of corruption involving government officials and politicians in the intray of the newly appointed head of the country’s National Prosecuting Authority, Advocate, Shamila Batohi.

The true cost of the damage cost by state capture, including the destruction of institutions and lives, is unquantifiable.

South Africans may well be seduced by the prospect of Zuma taking the stand at the Zondo commission. But he was not alone in driving the state capture project. And, the network of actors and influencers is extensive and still very much active. This much has been laid bare in testimony before the commission.

Nina Callaghan, Robyn Foley, senior researchers at the Centre for Complex Systems in Transition at Stellenbosch University, contributed to the article.The Conversation

Mark Swilling, Distinguished Professor of Sustainable Development, Stellenbosch University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

Sunday, June 16, 2019

Land occupiers to take eThekwini Municipality to court for “criminal” act

Shack dwellers’ homes demolished and possessions burnt

Photo of a man and a burnt our shack
Mafa Zwane shows the remains of his shack. and his bed after the Land Invasion Department demolished his home. Photo: Musa Binda
A week after the most recent demolitions, residents from Azania Occupation in Cato Manor, Durban, endured yet another round of demolitions on Thursday. This time, their belongings were torched by law enforcement. Beds, cupboards, blankets and clothes were burnt. About 70 shacks were demolished.

Most residents were away when the Land Invasion Department struck. They were at the Durban Magistrates Court to lend support to 24 people from the eKhenana Occupation who were charged with public violence after resisting demolitions last year.

Azania resident Mafa Zwane described what happened. “I overheard people screaming and when I walked out of the shack, I noticed that the contingent was already beating some residents, forcing them out of their shacks and demolishing them.”

Zwane used to work at the Sun Coast Casino and rented a flat in South Beach, but when he lost his job in February last year, he joined the occupation.

Gugu Sipamla was also at home when the Land Invasion Department and Metro law enforcement arrived. She said she ran away, afraid of being beaten or shot with rubber bullets.

Sipamla said all her belongings were burnt. She didn’t know where she would now sleep. She has sent her sons, aged four and 13, to stay with a friend. She moved to Azania in February after she lost her job and could no longer afford to pay her rent.

Provincial secretary for the shack dweller movement Abahlali baseMjondolo (AbM), Mqapheli Bonono, said: “What is being done by eThekwini Municipality is against the law and we view it as criminal activity because they don’t only demolish shacks, they steal people’s belongings, beat them up, shoot them with rubber bullets. It worries us when they even decide to burn people’s belongings.”

Bonono said AbM was preparing court action.

Durban Metro Police spokesperson Superintendent Parboo Sewpersad said, “We get called by Land Invasion Department security management only if the crowd becomes volatile; only then we come for backup.”

EThekwini Municipality was not immediately available for comment.

 14 June 2019   By
© 2019 GroundUp.