“We spend millions of rands on security instead of growing food for the nation”
By Tariro Washinyira
30 October 2017
Thousands of people, many of them farmers, drove in convoy to Cape
Town on Monday, eventually gathering at the Green Point stadium, to
protest against farm murders. For much of the morning and afternoon the
N1 into Cape Town moved at a snail’s pace.
“I want these killings to stop. I do not want any woman to suffer the
way I did … My children are heartbroken,” said Marlene Conradie, widow
of murdered farmer Joubert Conradie of Uitkyk farm in Klapmuts.
“We are ordinary people who grow grapes, peaches and olives,” she
said. Marlene and her two children, Hannes (15) and Jane (11), were
marching in Monday’s protest, titled “Genoeg is genoeg, enough is
enough”.
AfriForum says: “Since 1 January 2017, at least 341 farm attacks have
been committed, during which at least 70 people have been murdered.
This means that during 2017 so far, there has already been more farm
murders than the total amount of farm murders during 2016.”
According to Africa Check
“police’s statistics differ” from those previously supplied by
AfriForum. There are also other figures given by the Transvaal
Agricultural Union. There are reasons for the differences based on
methodology and also the definition of famer and farm or rural
smallholding. It is extremely difficult to verify or determine how many
farm owners have been killed on farms and also what the statistics are
for farm workers living on farms.
The protesters wore black regalia and held placards with: “Stop
killing farmers”, “In memory of murdered farmers” and “No farmer no
food”. GroundUp saw just one person with a small old South African flag
on their T-shirt.
A dairy farmer and wheat producer, Thys Swart Swellendam of
Grootvadersbosch Landgoed, told GroundUp: “We provide jobs for many farm
workers and for each farmer that is killed, it means job losses and
farms are ruined, and the secondary industry as well, because we produce
raw materials for factories and other industries.”
He said farm workers are also attacked sometimes and their families
are in danger. “We spent millions of rands just on security. That keeps
us busy instead of growing food for the nation. With drought in the
Western Cape, it is difficult because besides buying stock for animals
we must also spend on security. Police, who should be providing
security, are not doing that. Farmers are dependent on themselves and
their neighbours.”
Some are however critical of the farmers. Colette Solomon, Director
of Women on Farms Project (WFP) told GroundUp: “Women on farms do not
feel safe from the farmers. They experience verbal, physical, sexual
abuse and intimidation. Their tenure and housing rights are frequently
violated but when they report to the police, police don’t take action.
As a result most of them do not report abuse.”
The following story is a reminder about the horrific situation white people, especially farmers endure. Torture, rape, brutality and it has not stopped. Farmers, white people remain oppressed in South Africa. A 12-year-old white boy was drowned in a bath of boiling water by black robbers who raped his mother before killing both his parents in a violent house robbery.
Three blacks broke into the family’s home in Walkerville, Johannesburg, where they assaulted and shot dead Tony Viana, 53, and brutally raped and killed his wife, Geraldine. They then tied up and gagged the sobbing boy, Amaro, and pushed him into a bath of boiling hot water to drown him, ‘because he would be able to identify them’.
The family’s gardener, Patrick Petrus Radebe, 24, their domestic servant’s son, Sipho Mbele, 21, pleaded guilty to three charges of murder and one charge of rape each, reported The Telegraph. David Motaung, 20, pleaded guilty on Tuesday to robbery charges.
According to the accused, “we mutually raped Geraldine Viana.” Sipho Mbele raped her first while Petrus Radebe helped to restrain her by standing on her face. Afterwards Radebe raped her too. The white family’s dog apparently barked tremendously during the burglary. The animal was killed by disembowelment.
They then left the South African court and walked back their cells laughing, according to Beeld newspaper. As the death penalty was abolished in South Africa, they will probably get lengthy prison sentences but could be out on parole within five to ten years.
Now there have been 70.000+ murdered total South African Whites in the unreported genocide since the end of Apartheid. Is this the “saint” Nelson Mandela’s “rainbow nation”? Source
In August this year, the Democratic Alliance posted the following -
How many farm murders will be enough for government to take action?
The recent wave of farm murders across the country must see swift and effective action from the ANC government.
Yet our government has continuously failed to put into action already set up plans for rural safety that will mean that farm workers and farmers no longer have to be subjected to torture, murder or the fear of falling victim to brutal attacks.
The DA wishes to convey its condolences to the families of those who have been killed in these attacks.
The Chairperson of the Portfolio Committee on Police, Mr Francois Beukman, has the power to make the Minister of Police, Fikile Mbalula, explain the continued failure to protect farming communities.
The DA will therefore write to request that Mr. Beukman summon Minister Mbalula to urgently explain and to commit to keeping South Africans safe by implementing the rural safety plans.
We will also conduct oversight visits to measure the extent to which police stations are equipped to deal with violence in rural communities.
The government needs to prioritise the safety of farming communities as workers and farmers have a right to be protected from violent attacks.
Our citizens in rural communities should not live in fear while their leaders turn a blind eye to farm attacks. Source
At the end of the day, the white minority remains oppressed and under constant attack. Its time for world leaders to recognize the severity of the situation.
Running out of options. Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba speaks after delivering his medium term budget. REUTERS/Sumaya Hisham
South Africa’s 2017 medium-term budget policy statement represents a watershed moment in the post-apartheid economic and fiscal position. The best thing that can be said about it, is that it was at least frankly honest about the situation the country is facing. Arguably, there was no choice. The country has reached a situation where it’s no longer possible to spin the notion that public debt is under control.
In recent years, South Africa’s National Treasury has desperately, and creatively, tried to avoid making deep cuts to government expenditure, or imposing drastic revenue raising measures on citizens. It did this while still convincing investors and credit ratings agencies that public finances would stabilise.
But the 2017 medium term budget makes it clear that the project has essentially reached the end of the road. The notion that national debt will stabilise has now effectively had to be abandoned. South Africa’s latest finance minister, Malusi Gigaba, effectively gave up on the debt targets set out by Pravin Gordhan a year ago when he stated that net national debt as a percent of GDP should stabilise at 47.9% by 2019/20. Gigaba announced yesterday that this is expected to be 49.1% by the end of this fiscal year, increasing to 53.9% by 2019/20.
This is a clear sign that any attempt to stabilise debt has failed. A further ratings downgrade is now highly likely. And it will be worse than the last one which only affected foreign currency debt. Gigaba’s budget proposals are likely to lead to a downgrade of the country’s local denominated debt, which will increase government borrowing costs and could lead to significant capital outflows. Even without a downgrade the medium term budget reveals that debt service costs are expected to increase from 11% of total expenditure to 15% over the next few years.
Without higher revenue, that means less money to spend on government’s constitutional obligations and policy commitments. Unfortunately, the gloomy story is largely driven by a massive shortfall in revenue collection of R50.8 billion. So attempting to avoid these consequences through taxation is not looking like a feasible option.
In the current political environment, even the best case scenario is grim. In fact the country’s finances could worsen even further if the outcome of the governing party’s elective conference in December doesn’t see a return to good governance and responsible fiscal management.
Slippery slope since 2008
In the years since the global financial crisis that started in 2008, the government allowed expenditure to increase faster than growth and revenue. This was done with the hope of offsetting the short-term effects of the crisis and getting the country back onto a stable path of significant economic growth.
That led to a rapid increase in national debt relative to the size of the economy. But the failure of the economy to recover – due in part to political instability, bad decision making and poor governance – meant that this approach became unsustainable.
In the last few years successive national budgets have walked a tightrope in trying to contain the growth in debt. Planned spending has been reduced, while some tax rates have been increased and new tax instruments introduced. Amid all these manoeuvres, dramatic cuts to government expenditure, or wide-reaching increases in taxes, have been avoided.
Efforts to arrest fiscal decline were sabotaged by the removal of Gordhan in March this year. His removal meant that the institutional reputation of the finance ministry was compromised and, since it was this that had kept the country’s credit ratings intact despite increasing fiscal pressure, the country’s foreign denominated debt was downgraded to “junk” (sub-investment grade).
Storm clouds on the horizon
As if the picture wasn’t gloomy enough, numerous risks to the fiscal projections and proposals loom on the horizon. South Africa’s president Jacob Zuma continues to sit on the higher education funding report, causing further instability at universities. That leaves open the possibility that more money for university students may be needed at short notice.
And the finances of various state owned enterprises are teetering, requiring increasing government support to prop them up. Since Gigaba took over the ministry he has taken R5.2 billion from the R6 billion “contingency reserve” – which is meant to be used for emergencies, or other unforeseeable events, such as natural disasters – to prop-up South African Airways. This broke with commitments to fund bailouts using revenue from asset sales. The medium term budget cements this breach – funds used to prop up the airline will not be replaced with funds from asset sales.
But the most menacing risk is the power utility Eskom, which is propped up by R350 billion in debt guarantees, but faces rising infrastructure costs, stagnant electricity demand and successive corruption scandals linked to state capture. Due to the scale of the commitments to Eskom, it will be impossible to contain the negative consequences if its lenders start refusing to rollover its debt.
No political will
Reading between the lines of the medium term budget, there is evidently no political will at the highest levels – the president and his cabinet – to do the right thing. The only reduction in planned expenditure is a cut to the contingency reserve. But responding to rising debt by reducing money for future emergencies is emblematic of the reluctance to take braver decisions like cutting the bloated, pointless ministries seemingly introduced by Zuma to employ his political cronies and their associates.
South Africa’s public finances are in dangerous territory and very difficult decisions will have to be taken before the 2018 budget if the situation is going to be stabilised. This will require politicians and civil servants who are competent and dedicated to the public interest to make bold decisions. Without such leadership the resultant trajectory will undermine the ideals and objectives of the post-apartheid era for many years to come.
South African Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba kicked the can of change down the road during his medium term budget speech. Reuters/Rogan Ward
Wittingly or unwittingly, South Africa’s Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba’s medium term budget policy statement places him – and champions of the market economy inside and outside the African National Congress – in a strong position and opens the way for real economic change. Whether the opportunity is taken is, of course, another matter.
Gigaba revealed that the government’s revenue shortfall is two thirds higher than expected, spending is growing, as is the deficit which will not, as promised, stabilise next financial year. And growth projections are down from a poor 1.3% to a negligible 0.7%.
The minister announced no new measures which are likely to turn the situation around and another set of ratings agency downgrades seem inevitable. This is partly because the agencies take their cue from domestic economists and business people, all of whom see a downgrade as inevitable. The only rational response is surely that the economy is in a downward spiral and that the minister cannot or will not do anything about it.
Perhaps. But there is another way of looking at the speech which sees many of these negatives as potential economic game changers.
One reason for seeing an opportunity for change is that the speech provides more than enough grounds to begin two of the tasks which must be confronted if the economy is to turn around in a sustainable way. It provides a powerful lever for everyone who wants to resist patronage projects. And the scale of the problem does send a signal to all economic actors that a sense of crisis – the acknowledgement that the economy must change course if it’s to grow and include more people – is needed and that negotiations to change the economy are essential.
Watershed moments?
Gigaba’s speech made it clear that the argument that money is simply not available is now an understatement. One casualty might be the nuclear power project on which President Jacob Zuma and his faction seem to have set their hearts. There have been suggestions that Zuma’s primary objective in his most recent cabinet reshuffle was to insert a loyal person into the energy portfolio so that he could make the nuclear deal happen.
Gigaba is now signalling that there is no money for the project and so the reshuffle’s purpose may have been undone.
And the argument for structural change, not mere tweaking, is much stronger now than before the speech. The harsh realities he explicitly set out mean that any finance minister who wanted to shut the door on patronage, begin cleaning up state owned enterprises and kick-starting talks with other key players, such as the private sector, is in a very powerful position. This could open the way for bargaining between all the economic interests on how to grow the economy and open it up to those who are excluded.
It does not mean that Gigaba will take the opportunity. The fact that he kicked the can of change down the road during his speech, proposing no new plans for change – and that he has already granted South African Airways a bailout – seem to show that his apparent desire to please everyone leaves him ill-equipped to take any of the steps suggested here.
But, if we assume – as many people who observe him do – that Gigaba’s chief goal is to advance his political career, the numbers he quoted today suggest that he is unlikely to do that unless he can show that he did something to change the realities he described. It’s possible that the minister knows that these realities won’t change unless he takes some decisive steps.
Stage set for trade-offs?
The speech offers no solutions but it can hardly be accused of ignoring or concealing the problem. On the contrary, Gigaba made a great deal of his refusal to “sugar coat” the problem. Insisting that South Africans must know how bad it is, he added that citizens needed to understand the “challenges” because only then
(will) we … know what to do … as well as what trade-offs must be made in the public interest.
That sounds very much like an attempt to set the stage for some unpopular decisions and for engaging with key economic actors on what trade offs should be made. Clearly, a minister who hopes to please as many people as possible is not going to initiate major changes without very solid backing – the speech may well have been an attempt to get that backing.
So Gigaba could be trying to set the stage for a process in which the awful state of the economy enables him to gain support from key economic actors to introduce the “trades off” he promised.
Of course, the minister may have no plans to use his leverage in this way. But, if so, the speech may have provided an important lever to those who would want him to do so. It clearly was an invitation to private economic interests to engage.
If businesses take Gigaba up on the offer, they may well find themselves in a more powerful position than they imagined, given the state of public finances and of the economy. They certainly have economic reality on their side and, since the minister is not zealously attached to either of the African National Congress factions, he may well be inclined to support them if the alternative seems likely to promise his political ruin.
The speech showed that the economy is in crisis – it needs to change direction if it’s to serve the country’s needs. Whatever the minister decides to do, its effect will depend on how those in society who have an interest in that change choose to react. The stakes are clearly too high for them to fold their hands and wait for the minister to act.
South Africa’s Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba has been forthright in recognising the crises facing the country. EPA/Stringer
The first mid-term budget delivered by South Africa’s newish Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba was always likely to be judged largely on three issues: whether he was able to inspire confidence, what the government plans to do with the crises at the various state owned enterprises and whether he would pronounce definitively on its commitment to firming up a nuclear deal with Russia.
Whatever else Gigaba said was likely to be regarded as extra.
On balance, he did reasonably well on the confidence issue. He spoke clearly and with assurance, even with authority. To be sure, he delivered a lot of flannel. He reminded South Africans of the promises of the National Development Plan and the government’s commitment to Vision 2030; he spoke about the iniquities of the maldistribution of wealth and inequality and the government’s commitment to redistribution; he deplored “the challenges” (that overused word) faced by state owned enterprises, the high level of concentration in the private sector and the need to make the economy more globally competitive. And he inevitably he hailed the urgent need for “radical socio-economic transformation”. Words, words, words, one might say.
Against that, Gigaba’s speech was forthright in recognising the immediate crises facing the country. While stressing the importance of economic growth, he indicated that growth was expected to fall to 0.7% per annum, down from a previous somewhat less miserable estimate of 1.3%.
He recognised that the budget deficit was expected to increase from 4.3% from 3.1%. And he conceded that with lower economic activity government revenue was going to fall: indeed, the consolidated government deficit would climb to 60% of GDP by 2022.
Against these grim statistics, he stressed the need for greater tax morality, expenditure cuts, greater efficiency in government’s supply chain management and increased vigour in fighting corruption in state owned enterprises. And he even managed to say all this without smirking.
While it was important that he made it clear that the government recognises the mess the economy is in, he was extraordinarily light on detail about how it intended to clear it up.
The ratings agencies will doubtless be pleased that Gigaba announced no hike in corporation tax. For its part the African National Congress and its alliance partners would have been equally pleased that he announced no rise in Value Added Tax, which would hit the poor hardest. By the same token, he left it unclear – save by vague commitments to cutting costs – how the increasing gap between revenue and expenditure is to be tackled.
Raiding the piggy bank
The biggest news in Gigaba’s speech was his announcement that the government intends to sell a portion of its shares in Telkom to enable a recapitalisation of South African Airways and the South African Post Office. Many would say that he was left with little choice. While he thanked the banks for not pulling the plug on the airline by not demanding repayment of their loans, his raiding of Telkom’s piggy bank was an acknowledgement that no-one else was going to risk their money.
He also addressed the crisis in state owned enterprises by highlighting governance issues. This included the appointment of new boards for the airline as well as the state broadcaster and the need for them to recruit efficient managers and to tighten up governance and accountability.
Fine words, but equally, this was no announcement of the government drawing back from its notion of state owned enterprises as key drivers of the “developmental state”. Their current crises had obscured much that they had achieved, he said, such as the development of a pool of competent state managers.
Many would say that it’s a pity that their competence is not more evident.
If Gigaba said just enough to indicate that the government intends to do something to address the problems faced by state owned enterprises, the most glaring gap in his speech was any firm indication of how to tackle the cesspit of corruption that the state power utility Eskom has become.
Far worse than that were his weasel words about any prospective nuclear deal.
Speculation is rife that President Jacob Zuma is determined to sign off a deal to build nuclear power stations with the Russian nuclear agency, Rosatom, as quickly as possible – a deal which many reckon would bankrupt the country. Yet Gigaba chose not to calm the market’s nerves but to remain as vague as possible. Very deliberately, he chose to repeat a previous statement by Zuma that the signing of any nuclear deal would take estimates of the potential supply and demand for energy into full consideration, and would only proceed on the basis of “affordability”. Nobody is likely to believe that.
No sign of a change in direction
So, what’s to be made of this first substantive effort by Gigaba? The good news is that he didn’t try and obscure the grim financial situation that the government is facing.
But the bad news is that despite the waffle about the need for “radical socio-economic transformation”, there was nothing in his speech to indicate that the government is considering a significant change in direction.
Yes, there was the commitment to selling Telkom shares, but that was merely akin to selling the family silver to keep the household finances afloat for a little bit longer. Apart from that, there was no real suggestion that the government will start doing things differently. And there was no indication about how it intends to close the steadily increasing deficit.
Most South African police officers view their job as primarily just that -
a job and a means to survive. GCIS
Police officers are central to modern states and societies, including South Africa. But contrary to popular belief, the standard model of policing - random patrol, rapid response and follow up investigation - has limited impact on general crime.
Rather, many South African police officers are the products of the same forces that shape the “criminals” against whom they are pitted.
In 2012/13 I spent eight months shadowing SAPS officers as they went about their work at four stations: two in Cape Town (one poor township, one affluent city) and two in the Eastern Cape (one rural town, one rural village, both poor). Aware of the limits of policing, I wanted to explore who officers thought they were – the stories they told themselves about themselves – and how these shaped their work. My findings have just been published in the book, Police Work and Identity.
So what did I find?
Accidental officers
Born and raised in the poverty stained shadow of South Africa’s minority wealth, most officers I met found themselves in the SAPS after original aspirations had slipped beyond reach. Some told stories of having disliked or been in conflict with the SAPS before signing up.
Yet, once inside, given a gun and uniform and asked to do the dirty work of a fragile and anxious democracy, they found themselves rewriting their self-narratives. They told themselves the SAPS was not ideal, but it was not bad either. It offered them secure employment, a decent salary and, often, interesting and rewarding work in a country where these are rare.
And so, for most officers a job in the SAPS is primarily just that, a job - a means to strive and survive in contexts of great precarity. The meaning and income the work brings to officers’ lives is usually more important to them than the work they carry out. Consequently, they seek first to please managers, and so to ease the pressures placed on them.
They enact institutional performances that promote the myth that the SAPS is a rational, effective, evidence based and rule-bound organisation consisting of well-trained officers performing common sense crime prevention tasks. This, while hiding the grimy by products of police work. Through official reports and statements, and carefully choreographed public performances, the SAPS and its officers present a strategically crafted façade behind which they cocoon themselves and seek to build their lives on the precarious socio-economic terrain of contemporary South Africa.
Because officers are aware of their limits, and that the SAPS’ public face is part fiction, some officers seek to distance their identity from the organisation. Instead, they present themselves in private as what might be thought of as “accidental police officers”, people who had hoped for more in life and who thus deserved more respect and dignity than the South African public gave them. But, with prospects of comparable financial remuneration and job security outside of the SAPS unlikely for most, they simultaneously and contradictorily invest in and protect the SAPS image. This is achieved both through dedication to legitimate task, and by ignoring abuse by colleagues.
Incongruence
While officers aspired to lives characterised by middle class materialism, few had the money to do so. Instead they deferred their dreams to their children, investing in their education, while sharing what little remained with networks of precarious kin.
Some officers invested in more than their immediate relatives. They volunteered their time and money to support youth in their communities who they believed to be at risk. Like the skollies (the colloquial name for thugs) they hunted at work, the teens reminded officers of themselves.
By investing in them officers hoped to deflect the teens from the violence of the criminal justice system. In a sense, they offered them carrots so that they might avoid becoming the objects of the violence through which some officers asserted their right to manhood and respect on the job.
A notable portion of the police behaviour I observed was in congruent with the imagined ideals of an exemplary police service. In less orderly spaces – the township and rural town for example – police were more likely to disregard traffic laws, litter, speak their prejudice, and resort to violence.
Their turning to such behaviour in such spaces has its roots in the disparate ways the apartheid state governed Black and White space, and the opposition to state law and authority this fostered. Extended into the democratic era, it seems that disorderly space encourages disorderly police conduct, while order encourages police compliance. As such, police reproduce both order and disorder in their work, rather than enforcing order.
Raised on the periphery
Who do SAPS officers think they are and how does it shape police practice?
Like so many South Africans, they are men and women born and raised on the periphery, chasing a vision of a more prosperous future. At times, proud, at times, shamed by the work they are required to do, they are nourished by the knowledge that while they may not be able to make South Africa safe, they can provide themselves and those they care for, with a better life than the one they were born into.
In the meantime, they do what they must do to get through the day, hold fast to the story they tell themselves about themselves, and with it secured, strive to colonise the future with a vision that is golden.
Oliver Reginald Tambo served as ANC president from 1967 to 1991. Reuters
Oliver Tambo’s name and reputation are lauded, not least because he succeeded, remarkably, in keeping the African National Congress (ANC) together as a liberation movement during an exile lasting 30 years. Despite this legacy, the ANC, now South Africa’s governing party, has seen a year culminating in what is, arguably, its greatest crisis. Today, factions within the ANC nostalgically point to the example of Oliver Reginald Tambo , or OR as he was affectionately known in party circles.
Evidence of systemic corruption and factionalism for personal gain within the ANC are blamed for the failure to deliver improved living conditions to the poorest communities. The loss of three major metropolitan municipal councils in the industrial heartland testifies to diminished confidence in the ANC.
By contrast, in the year of his centenary, Oliver Tambo is held as an exemplar of integrity, personifying the ideal of a leader who for 50 years selflessly served the movement, consistently holding up the goals of a humane and caring society.
But who was this much talked about Tambo? And what lessons can be learnt from his leadership?
Exile
In 1960, after the Sharpeville massacre, then ANC President Chief Luthuli instructed Tambo to leave South Africa as an international diplomat of the ANC. His task was to mobilise a worldwide economic boycott.
With hindsight it was a prescient judgement call. The military wing of the ANC Umkhonto we Sizwe was launched a year later and within two years leaders of the ANC were facing charges of treason in the Rivonia Trial. The trial, which stretched through 1963-1964, led to life sentences for the leaders of Umkhonto we Sizwe, which included Walter Sisulu, Nelson Mandela, Govan Mbeki and Ahmed Kathrada.
Tambo’s task was to alert the world to the horrors of apartheid South Africa, and to seek assistance and support from newly independent states in Africa. It was to be more than 30 years before he returned home in December 1990. During this time, his integrity combined with his keen intellect and natural warmth impressed many people in diverse countries around the world.
Consensus seeker
Tambo was a careful and astute listener. He followed the indigenous African consensus system of decision making, crafting a conclusion that included at least some of the opinions of all participants.
He believed that the ANC should maintain the “high moral ground” and that it should be a broad umbrella under which all enemies of apartheid could shelter and enrich the movement, irrespective of their political beliefs. He was also cautious, likening the challenge of the liberation struggle to the traditional “indima” method of ploughing a very large piece of land. He explained at a Sophiatown meeting in 1953.
There’s a point where you must start. You can’t plough it all at once – you have to tackle it acre by acre…
One of Tambo’s strengths was his constructive and creative response to criticism. In 1967, for example, following the failure of Umkhonto we Sizwe cadres to reach the borders of South Africa after a battle at Wankie in “Rhodesia” (now Zimbabwe), Chris Hani and others, disillusioned with the leaders’ lethargy, released an angry memorandum. In an interview I did with Hani in Johannesburg in 1993 he admitted: “We blew our tops.” They accused the leadership of Umkhonto we Sizwe and the ANC of getting too comfortable and losing their appetite to return home – they had become “men in suits, clutching passports”.
The response by the leadership was outrage – the Secretary-General Alfred Nzo called for Hani’s execution for treason. But Tambo immediately began organising a conference of elected representatives of the branches around the world. A message was sent to Robben Island to inform ANC leaders jailed there, including Nelson Mandela, of this development.
It was time for frank conversation and a comprehensive, considered assessment. The outcome was the historic and constructive conference at Morogoro in Tanzania. The conference took on a more inclusive and democratic direction for the ANC, foregrounding the political aims over the military, and identifying the importance of mobilising workers at home.
Challenging 1980s
In the 1980s Tambo was faced with a more serious challenge. International attention against apartheid was growing; he was travelling extensively, persuading ordinary people to undermine apartheid by boycotting its products and banks and denying it arms. Alarmed, the apartheid regime sent spies into ANC camps on the continent, infiltrating top committees in Lusaka and other ANC structures.
The panic that ensued turned the spotlight on the flaws of the Umkhonto we Sizwe leadership. Human rights abuses of suspected spies and “ill-disciplined cadres” led to unlawful deaths and executions.
Tambo’s cautious response was criticised by the leadership of both ANC intelligence and Umkhonto we Sizwe for “impeding investigation” into the spies, owing to “his sense of democracy”. The chief culprits of these human rights abuses were formerly trusted peers of Tambo. He faced the dilemma of blowing the ANC wide apart if he challenged them. Instead, he resorted to the compromising strategy of redeploying them to other sections of the movement, such as education – perhaps leaving an unfortunate legacy for today’s ANC.
Enduring legacy
Tambo was to set in motion a process that culminated in South Africa’s democratic constitution. He:
subscribed Umkhonto we Sizwe and the ANC to the Geneva Convention, which imposed a strict adherence to human rights.
set up a commission of trusted senior comrades to look into the conditions in the ANC’s camps in Africa as well as abuses. The commission’s report was highly critical.
summoned an consultative conference in Kabwe in 1985 that reaffirmed ANC’s humanist values, addressed gender inequalities and formally accepted whites in official positions.
appointed the movement’s top legal minds to research and craft a constitution for the ANC; it was inspired by the Freedom Charter, which had been drawn up in 1956 after extensive consultation with ordinary people. It opened with the ringing words:
South Africa belongs to all who live in it.
South Africa’s new democracy essentially incorporated many of the clauses in the charter’s the path-breaking 1996 constitution.
Tambo’s insights remain relevant
Reporting to his first conference inside South Africa in December 1990 after the unbanning of the ANC, Tambo warned that “suspicions will not disappear overnight, the building of the South African nation is a national ask of paramount importance.
And he warned:
The struggle is far from over: if anything, it has become more complex and therefore more difficult.
He also reflected that "we were always ready to accept our mistakes and correct them.”
Faced by crises in the ANC, Tambo had always been ready to listen, responding constructively and creatively with new policies to meet the challenges of the time.
This is the enduring legacy of Oliver Tambo: many seasons later, many continue to gain insights and learn relevant lessons from his responses to the universal, human condition of our time. But whether they heeded this call is a moot point:
I have devotedly watched over the organisation all these years. I now hand it back to you, bigger, stronger - intact. Guard our precious movement.
Bishop Desmond Tutu during South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission process. Reuters
A powerful legal precedent that promises to see the reopening of other apartheid era crimes has been set in motion thanks to anti-apartheid activist Ahmed Timol’s family. They pushed for a new inquiry into Timol’s death, in 1971, while in police custody. An inquest held a year later found that he committed suicide while in detention. Now a judge has found that Timol was pushed to his death. The outcome refocuses the spotlight on how societies deal with authoritarian pasts.
In 1989 the Prime Minister of Poland, Tadeusz Mazowiecki, famously called for a “thick line” to separate the past and current political dispensations in Poland. The country was emerging from more than 40 years of communist rule that had been toppled by a popular uprising. Mazowiecki called for those who had been in power to be absolved of responsibility for their crimes to enable Poland to move forward.
South Africa, meanwhile, opted for a trade-off between culpability and truth after the fall of apartheid. Apartheid era offenders were required to give full disclosure of their crimes in exchange for amnesty. This was done under the auspices of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).
The TRC built on the precedent of similar commissions set up in South American countries that had been through military rule. The TRC gave South Africa great international attention as it was viewed as a stellar success. As a result South Africa has been held up as a benchmark of how to deal with post conflict situations.
Ahmed Timol. Ahmed Timol Family Trust
The model has been applied in different scenarios, ranging from Ireland’s sectarian conflict to Canada’s treatment of its First Peoples.
The transition in South Africa was informed by the 1980s series Transitions from Authoritarian Rule, edited by Guillermo O’Donnell, Philippe C. Schmitter and Laurence Whitehead, in the wake of authoritarian regimes collapsing in Latin America.
In comparing these transitions, they spelt out the steps societies would take in the future. Beginning with liberalisation, where general rights would be extended to all, they predicted that societies would then move to democratisation, where political rights would be democratised. The last step, socialisation, would provide social and economic equality.
As Wits University academic David Everatt has observed, this reasoning looks increasingly determinist. This is because it is obvious that South Africa and other post-authoritarian regimes have struggled to match the steps of liberalisation and democratisation with socialisation.
In effect, the steps set out in the Transitions series were also advocating for a “thick line” approach to dealing with the past. This underplayed the collective psychological trauma borne by those emerging from authoritarian societies, as was the case for black South Africans.
But the fundamental criminality of the apartheid system has provided ample grounds for families of victims to reopen inquests.
The desire of individual families, such as the Timols, to get to the truth of the death of their loved ones – and if possible, to see those responsible prosecuted – has ensured that further cases will be opened.
It has by no means been smooth sailing though: take the case of Neil Aggett, the trade unionist who died in police detention in 1982. A biography on Aggett written by Beverley Naidoo in 2012, Death of an Idealist, led to an article in a local newspaper exposing how one of Aggett’s main interrogators, Stephan Whitehead, had gone on to enjoy a successful career in the security forces after 1994.
The Neil Aggett Support Group – formed by his friends, family, lawyers and activists – wrote an open letter to Jeff Radebe, the then-Minister of Justice and Constitutional Development in February 2013. They called for the prosecution of Whitehead, who did not apply for amnesty to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. But the National Prosecuting Authority (NPA) failed to take action.
Their experience mirrored that of Timol’s family who had faced obstacles at every step. Timol, a South African Communist Party member, died in very similar circumstances to Aggett’s at the same John Vorster Square in 1971.
Imtiaz Cajee, Ahmed Timol’s nephew, during the inquest into his death. ANA/Jacques Naude
The Timol family have finally won what they fought so hard to achieve. The judge’s finding that Timol was pushed to his death has set a powerful legal precedent that promises to see other apartheid era crimes reopened.
To some extent the atrocities of apartheid have been contained for the past 20 years as a result of the country’s truth and reconciliation process. But the Timols, in their search for justice, have reminded South Africans that there can be no thick line separating the past from the present.
Listeria is an organism that contaminates food and can result in pregnant women going into premature labour or even losing their babies. The Conversation Africa’s Health and Medicine Editor Candice Bailey spoke to Kerrigan McCarthy from the National Institute of Communicable Diseases about listeriosis and why it needs attention.
What is listeriosis and why is it dangerous?
Listeriosis is a serious bacterial infection caused by the rod shaped bacteria listeria monocytogenes. The bacterium is spread when people eat food contaminated with the bacterium. The most common foods to be contaminated are raw or unpasteurised milk as well as soft cheeses, or vegetables, processed foods and ready-to-eat meats and smoked fish products.
Infection with listeria bacteria results in mild to severe gastroenteritis. In people with weak immune systems it can lead to meningitis or septicaemia. And in pregnant women, listeriosis can result in a miscarriage or stillbirth, premature delivery, or meningitis in the newborn – leading to with permanent disability.
Listeria bacteria are found in the environment – for example in water and in the soil. This means that animals and vegetables can become contaminated at any time and that, as a result, anyone can get listeriosis. But there are certain groups that are at higher risk of severe disease: these include newborns, the elderly, pregnant women and their unborn babies; and those with underlying conditions such as HIV, diabetes, cancer, chronic liver or kidney disease.
Pregnant women are particularly prone because pregnancy causes a natural reduction in the strength of the immune system.
Why are the numbers rising?
In South Africa, the first documented outbreaks of listeriosis were in 1977. Between August 1977 to April 1978, 14 cases were reported in the Johannesburg area.
Since then, sporadic cases have occurred throughout the country. For example, between January 2015 and September 2015 seven cases were reported at a tertiary hospital in the Western Cape Province.
Over the last few months the National Institute for Communicable Diseases has received reports of a marked increase in the number of cases across the country, but particularly in the Gauteng Province, South Africa’s smallest but most densely populated province.
There have been 190 confirmed cases across the country this year. In Gauteng, the population incidence rates have increased from two per million to eight per million. The highest incidence has been recorded in the City of Johannesburg at 12 cases per million. This is not as high as the number of people who get meningococcal meningitis or pulmonary tuberculosis, but the consequences are just as serious.
Of the 122 cases in Gauteng, over 60% are newborn babies that have been infected.
The institute is trying to establish what the source of the infection is so that measures can be put in place to prevent further cases. Mothers who have been infected with the bacteria are being interviewed and the institute is also engaging with the food service quality industry.
What are the signs and symptoms?
Listeria can survive in fridge temperatures of 4°C. The infection incubates for between three and 70 days. In healthy adults, symptoms are usually mild and may include fever and sometimes nausea or diarrhoea.
In high-risk patients, the spread of the infection to the nervous system can cause meningitis leading to headaches and confusion, a stiff neck and convulsions. Bacteraemia – when the bacteria is found in the blood – may also occur.
Gastroenteritis due to listeria does not require treatment. But meningitis or septicaemia as a result of listeria can be life-threatening and should be treated with intravenous antibiotics.
What are the challenges in dealing with listeriosis?
Outbreaks of listeria in food are common across the world. Outbreaks of listeriosis across the world present the same problem: that the source of contaminated food is difficult to identify. There are two reasons for this.
Firstly, the incubation period of 70 days makes it difficult to track what the patient ate and therefore to identify the contaminated food.
And secondly, once the food source is narrowed down, tests need to be conducted on the range of possible foods to establish which is the implicated one. Only once authorities are able to identify the source are they able implement measures to prevent further cases.
How can we protect ourselves from this infection?
There is no vaccine or pre-exposure prophylaxis that can prevent infection. The main preventive measure is good basic hygiene, and proper, safe food preparation and storage.
Unlike most other food borne pathogens, Listeria monocytogenes can grow in refrigerated foods that are contaminated. To prevent this, fridge temperatures should be set below 4⁰C; and freezer temperatures below -18⁰C.
Those at high risk of listeriosis should avoid:
Raw or unpasteurised milk, or dairy products that contain unpasteurised milk,
Soft cheeses like feta, goat cheese and brie,
Foods from delicatessen counters like prepared salads and cold meats that have not been heated and reheated adequately,
Refrigerated pâtés
Additional measures include thoroughly cooking raw foods from animal sources, such as beef, pork or poultry. Raw fruit and vegetables should be thoroughly washed before eating. And surfaces where food is prepared should be decontaminated regularly, particularly after preparing raw meat, poultry and eggs, including industrial kitchens.
There’s a great deal hanging on South Africa’s 2017 medium term budget policy statement. Three factors are at play: there is political turmoil around the governing African National Congress, the country’s economy is performing poorly and this is the first budgetary statement from the new Finance Minister Malusi Gigaba. The Conversation Africa’s Sibonelo Radebe asked Jannie Rossouw to layout his expectations.
What keeps you up at night in relation to this medium term budget?
The single most worrying factor is the lack of economic growth South Africa faces. Growth has slowed down significantly in recent years and the economy flirted with recession after shrinking during the last quarter of last year and the first quarter of this year. The economy did bounce back into positive growth during the second quarter but the outlook remains unimpressive. Only 0.5% growth is expected for 2017 and less than 2% over the medium term.
Owing to this lack of growth, unemployment is on the increase – it now stands at a staggering 27% – while government revenue is under pressure. It also implies that the government’s burden on the economy (for instance total government debt as percentage of gross domestic product, orDebt/GDP ratio) will increase.
Government’s debt to GDP ratio is currently budgeted to level out around 50%. This is to be welcomed because any increase in the ratio increases the interest burden.
But if slow growth and revenue shortfalls persist, government debt will increase. The debt to GDP ratio will be on its way to 65% of GDP in the medium term.
And should the combination of low growth and growing government expenditure continue after the period of this medium term statement (2017/18 - 2020/21), the debt/GDP ratio might be on its way to 100%. This projection really stresses one of the most worrying factors that has to be addressed in this statement: Limiting the level of government debt before it reaches this level.
In other countries where this level has been exceeded, severe adjustments had to be forced on their economies. Take the Irish Republic case. Remuneration levels and employment numbers in the civil service had to be cut dramatically to deal with the Irish government debt crisis.
There is a new finance minister in place and he comes with shifting political dynamics. How do you rate him and what do you expect from him?
It is difficult to rate the new minster, given that he’s only been in the job since April and the fact that he has not yet tabled his first budgetary statement. The only statement against which his performance can really be assessed is the 14-point plan he announced in July 2017.
We’ll be watching the medium term statement for his report back on progress in implementing it.
But Gigaba comes with worrying political dynamics, including accusations that he is party to corruption.
And its difficult to separate him from the history of bad policy options of the African National Congress which has delivered the prevailing lacklustre economic performance. The fiscal crisis facing South Africa is a direct result of these policies.
How significant is the medium term budget policy statement?
It’s very important as it provides an overview of government’s plans for expenditure and for raising revenue over the next three years. A three year view is significant because it provides insight into planned government expenditure and indicates expected tax increases that South African taxpayers have to face. It also informs decisions of the credit rating agencies about South Africa’s fiscal stability.
The statement forms the basis of the annual budget of government revenue and expenditure that is tabled in Parliament in February each year.
The statement is the first formal opportunity after the tabling of the annual budget where the government reports on the actual performance of revenue raised in comparison to budgeted revenue and of actual expenditure in comparison to budgeted expenditure.
This reporting by government gives an early indication of expectations for the main budget in February. For instance, if government revenue is underperforming, the expectation is that taxes will be increased the following February. Indeed a tax increase might materialise in this medium term statement.
What in you view will be key focus areas in this medium term statement?
As South Africa’s economic growth is currently lower than the forecast used for the 2017/18 fiscal year, tax collection has come under pressure. A revenue shortfall is expected for this fiscal year. The medium term statement is when the size of the shortfall will be formally disclosed.
Given expectations of a substantial shortfall, South Africans should brace themselves for substantial tax increases in the main budget in February 2018. The fiscal crisis might even be so serious that the government might decide to divert from previous practice and announce tax increases in this medium term statement.
Like any other government in the world, it raises revenue through taxes and use this revenue to fund its expenditure. If revenue exceeds expenditure, the difference must be borrowed, which adds to the level of government debt, or expenditure must be cut.
One of the biggest budgetary headaches is the ailing state owned enterprises. What should be done?
Government is really throwing good money after bad by using public money to bailout ailing state owned enterprises. I have said a long time ago that South African Airways should simply be given away. This is a much cheaper option for the taxpayer instead of never ending bailouts. The South African government should reassess its holding of state owned enterprises and close, sell or give away those that are no longer financially viable. Such action will remove a large financial burden on the South African taxpayer.
Former policeman Joao Rodrigues giving evidence at the Timol Inquest. Anthony Schultz/Mail & Guardian
The recent, reopened inquest into the death of teacher and anti-apartheid activist, Ahmed Timol, was different in many ways from a traditional court case. Instead of the standard adversarial criminal trial, which is associated with an acrimonious standoff between opposing parties, the state and the representative of the Timol family, Advocate Howard Varney, seemed to agree on the importance of arriving at the truth about Timol’s death.
Timol was 29 when he was arrested on 22 October 1971. After being interrogated and tortured by the feared security branch of the police, he died on 27 October 1971. Magistrate JL de Villiers, who presided over the inquest that followed his death, found that Timol had committed suicide.
The reopened inquest in the North Gauteng High Court nearly 50 years later was intensely symbolic. The atmosphere in the court was heavy with history. At times the testimony of witnesses reminded one of funeral-like memorialisation. It was clear that the case was not only about Timol’s death but about the dozens of victims who died at John Vorster Square, the notorious Johannesburg security branch headquarters, and more broadly, the countless victims of apartheid crimes.
Throughout the hearings Judge Billy Mothle heard compelling testimony from witnesses such as Timol’s friend and fellow detainee Salim Essop. Essop testified of brutal torture including electric shock treatments and attempts to suffocate detainees.
In concluding his deliberations after hearing the evidence, Judge Billy Mothle found that Timol was either pushed from the 10th floor of John Vorster Square or from the rooftop of the building.
The ruling has been seen as a vindication of the tireless efforts on the part of Timol’s family and friends to have the apartheid security force’s lies and misrepresentation of the young activist’s final days overturned.
Truth and reconciliation
The Timol case resurrects many of the questions South Africa raised during the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), and in its direct aftermath. In many ways, the Timol case can be understood as a continuation of the work of the commission: the reopening of an inquest can be a way of establishing the truth of apartheid era atrocities.
In some ways, court proceedings are more efficient and powerful than hearings of the TRC kind. Courts have the power to subpoena witnesses and to declare lying witnesses in contempt of court. In addition, their judgments form formal precedent for future decisions. Court cases are also infused with a certain weight and formal authority.
One of the most serious criticisms of the design of the TRC was that it had the power to grant amnesty under certain conditions. While the conditional amnesty model was lauded as innovative and reconciliation-building, over two decades later it’s clear that there were crucial gaps in the amnesty scheme.
Firstly, the truth uncovered by the amnesty hearings was a selective truth in the sense that many apartheid victims didn’t have the means to travel to the sites of the hearing to testify. Secondly, many former perpetrators didn’t apply for amnesty. Many must have made a calculated guess that they were unlikely to be prosecuted if they did not apply for amnesty.
And there have been less than a handful of prosecutions post TRC. This arguably makes a mockery of the amnesty scheme. Also, the National Prosecuting Authority’s Priority Crimes Litigation Unit has been exceedingly passive. It’s this unit that failed to follow up on important cases such as the Wouter Basson case. Dubbed “Dr Death” in the media, Basson was the head of the apartheid government’s chemical and biological warfare programme. When the Constitutional Court gave the prosecuting authority the go ahead to prosecute, it failed to follow up.
In light of the poor, lacklustre track record of the state over the past 20 years, there’s little reason for optimism that all apartheid era inquests will be reopened. There can be no doubt that reopening inquests is an important way of discovering the truth about the past and setting the historical record straight.
Many cases will be obstructed by the fact that witnesses and accused would have died in the decades since the killings.
Even if witnesses are alive their memories often fail them as might have been the case with Joao “Jan” Rodrigues in the Timol inquest.
Banality of evil
Rodrigues was one of the policemen present at the time of Timol’s killing and is accused of helping to hide the evidence of his killing.
When testifying at the Timol hearings, Rodrigues (78) was completely uncooperative and continuously claimed that he could not remember the events of October 1971. Watching from the public gallery, I found Rodrigues the most interesting of the witnesses. He was interesting precisely because he was ordinary and reminded me of philosopher Hannah Arendt’s concept of the “banality of evil” in “Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil” – her account of Nazi officer, Adolf Eichmann, who Arendt thought willingly did his part to organise the Holocaust but in a non-ideological combination of careerism and obedience.
Rodrigues’s testimony is representative of the denial of a whole generation of white South Africans. He did not show a slither of remorse. His body language conveyed a certain irritation and annoyance at the fact that he was hauled from the daze of retirement into the spotlight of a prominent and inconvenient court appearance. He conveyed that he was somehow being victimised by a process he found strange and unnecessary.
Appropriate relief
Judge Mothle stated that the perpetrators are dead. This raises the question of appropriate relief – a question which is still unclear. But punishment of perpetrators is not the primary relief sought by victims of state sponsored atrocities.
It is good and right that the Timol case gives hope to the families of murdered apartheid activists and that victims will be encouraged to come forward to reopen inquests. But it’s important that families should be warned of the significant resource obstacles the state faces and the selective nature of prosecutions. There is only one thing worse than living in hope: hope that is continuously frustrated.
Reuters
South Africa’s police minister, Fikile Mbalula, has stirred controversy by calling for the involvement of the country’s military in fighting crime. Although there might be short term gains from deploying the South African National Defence Force (SANDF) in crime-ridden urban areas of the country, there are several reasons why it should be discouraged.
An obvious reason is that, tactically, militaries are not trained to do community protection and fighting crime in urban communities. They aren’t taught and trained how to apply police and law enforcement rules when it comes to the use of minimum force, or how to follow the proper procedures during an arrest.
Moreover, soldiers are generically trained to use machine guns, not pistols. Also, military doctrine and command structures are not suited to deployments in urban areas and especially to fight gangsterism. In short, armies are basically geared to fight external enemies.
Mexico is a case in point from a South African perspective. A decade ago the country’s military was brought in to fight drug cartels - a role its leadership is now questioning. The Mexican Defence Minister Salvador Cienfuegos recently pointed out that their responsibilities in fighting crime doesn’t correspond with their training.
We didn’t study how to chase criminals.
South Africa can learn from the Mexican experience. There are no short cuts to fighting crime, and instead of looking to the SANDF for quick fixes, the South African government should be focused on building a more effective and functional police and crime intelligence service. In simplified terms: the South African Police Service (SAPS) and related law enforcement agencies should improve their institutional capabilities and get the job of crime prevention and fighting done more efficiently. Beyond the fact that it wouldn’t be desirable to use the military in anti-crime efforts in Cape Town and Gauteng, there is also the hard reality that South Africa’s defence force is in a weakened and parlous state in several respects.
Three reasons why it shouldn’t do the job
There are at least three important reasons why the South African National Defence Force shouldn’t be deployed to fight crime in urban communities.
The first is that the country’s defence force is in an increasingly critical state of degeneration. There has been a continuous decline in military spending over the past few decades. In real terms, the defence budget was cut by half between 1989 and 1997. Until 2010 expenditure was pinned at about 1,6% of GDP - which is between 6% and 7% of total government expenditure). Over the past seven years it has levelled out at 1.2% to 1.1% of GDP.
The Defence Force is in a critical state of decline … Left unchecked, and at present funding levels, this decline will severely compromise and further fragment the defence capability. It is clear that certain defence capabilities, if not addressed now, will be lost in the very near future. The longer this prevails, the greater the effort, time and cost will be to restore the Defence Force.
The second reason is that the military is ill-equipped to be called on to fight crime is that it’s been criticised for being unable to meet its current responsibilities,
including being able to fulfil its responsibilities as a peacekeeping force on the continent. In fact South Africa’s participation in continental peacekeeping operations of both the United Nations and the African Union has decreased notably. It’s participation has reached the lowest level since the early 2000s following the recent withdrawal of its soldiers from Darfur, Sudan.
Helmoed-Römer Heitman, one of South Africa’s most authoritative defence analysts contends that:
[t]he reality is that the state of readiness [of the South African National Defence Force] is appalling: The South African National Defence Force is in no way capable of handling anything but the most minor crisis.
The third reason is that, despite insufficient funding, the SANDF has had to take on extra responsibilities over the last seven years. Since 2010 it has taken back the border protection function (and related crime fighting along the borders) from the police and begun patrolling the country’s borders. It is now deployed along the seven provinces that have landward borders with surrounding countries. Tasks range from stopping people attempting to enter South Africa illegally to confiscating contraband, mainly cigarettes and liquor and dagga (marijuana). Since 2011 the SANDF also had to take up the task of assisting the Kruger National Park’s rangers in preventing rhino poaching.
Weak police force is the issue
There is, however, a much bigger issue at stake - the functionality of the SAPS. This is in fact the main issue. The current budget allocation favours public order and safety (earmarked for the police) over defence and state security (partially earmarked for the military). The 2017/18 allocation to the police portfolio was R93bn while the defence portfolio got R53bn.
In 2013 South Africa was listed as having the 11th biggest police force in the world and it gets almost 48% of the total allocation of the overall defence, public order and safety account At the same time, this does not mean that the SAPS is without shortcomings and constraints. According to UN statistics, South Africa is in the lower-middle end of policing ratios compared to other countries in the world.
Still, the police get a sizeable chunk of the country’s budget and it can be expected to deliver a better service to the South African public. The country has unacceptably high crime levels. But, the political solution to crime in the relevant areas of Cape Town and Gauteng does not lie in deploying the army. The relevant political leaders would do the country’s citizens a favour if they focused on fixing the police service and strengthening crime intelligence, and stopped pursuing unhelpful ideas like using the army to fight crime.