INTRODUCTION

Post-military Lesotho has witnessed a number of events with serious political and security implications. These include:

an armed confrontation in January 1994 between the army's two rival factions;



the murder of the country's former Deputy Prime Minister, Selometsi Baholo in April 1994;



the dismissal of the Director of the National Security Service (NSS) and his deputy by their subordinates;



the May/June 1994 strikes by members of the Royal Lesotho Mounted Police (RLMP) and by staff of the Department of Prisons, respectively over salary increases and the Government's decision to re-employ a retired officer;



a coup d'état by King Letsie II, which temporarily ousted Mokhehle's Government, in August 1994; and



a mutiny in February 1997 by an armed section of the RLMP that dismissed the Commissioner of Police, his deputy and scores of senior police officers and forcibly seized and occupied the Maseru Central Police Station and Police Headquarters, while also calling a country-wide police strike that disrupted the normal police services, such as crime prevention, criminal investigation and patrols.

As the country seemed set to slide into chaos, the government ordered the Lesotho Defence Force (LDF) to quell the mutiny and to arrest all the mutineers. The LDF did as ordered: they stormed the Police Headquarters and Maseru Central Police Station and disarmed and arrested all the RLMP members who were occupying the buildings, barring the two supposed ring leaders, Second Lieutenant Molise and Sergeant Makateng, who fled to South Africa. The LDF ended the mutiny, killing two policemen. Molise was arrested a few days later by the South African police who deported him to Lesotho where he joined about thirty of his colleagues awaiting trial for high treason in Maseru's Central Prison.¹

Ostensibly to guard against a recurrence of mutinous behaviour among the police, the Commissioner of Police stripped the RLMP of its military image by outlawing and abolishing the brown combat suits that it had used since the early 1980s, and offering to donate these to charity organisations that might need them. The Commissioner of Police also announced that rank and file police officers would no longer carry guns while performing routine duties. With this move, the RLMP lost not only the veneer of being a combat force, but also its most potent means of violence and coercion.

But was the RLMP capable of staging a mutiny or an armed challenge to the state and, if so, what capabilities or resources did it have? What other factors might account for its behaviour? This article attempts to answer these questions by assessing the RLMP's attributes and capabilities. The assumption is made that, while the familiar perspectives on the police (as discussed below) adequately explain the symbiotic relationship that exists between the police and the state, they are of little or no utility when used in analysing mutinous or rebellious tendencies among police forces. It is therefore argued that a better insight into the February 1997 police mutiny would be gained by examining the RLMP's historical role, character and capabilities or power resources. The definition of `mutiny' provided in the Lesotho Defence Force Act No 4 of 1996 is adopted for the purposes of this article. According to the Act "mutiny means a combination between 2 or more persons subject to this Act, or between persons 2 at least of whom are subject to this Act

to overthrow or resist lawful authority in the Defence Force or/and forces co-operating with the Defence Force;



to disobey such authority in such circumstances as to make the disobedience subversive of discipline with the object of avoiding any duty or service against, or in connection with operations against the enemy;



to impede the performance of any duty or service in the Defence Force or in any forces co-operating with the Defence Force."²

This article is divided into six sections. The first section introduces the topic and casts the thesis. The second section briefly examines the two broad perspectives commonly used in explaining the role of the police, while the third traces the RLMP's origin, sketching its historical role, structural position within Lesotho's state system, its character, capabilities and/or resources and training. The fourth section presents aspects of the RLMP's profile between 1970 and 1993. This is followed by a section which briefly looks at the relations between the democratically elected Basutoland Congress Party (BCP) government and the RLMP in post-military Lesotho, identifying the salient and contentious policy issues and the extent to which these could have encouraged the mutiny. The last section provides the author's tentative conclusions based on the analysis.

PERSPECTIVES ON THE ROLE OF THE POLICE

There are two conflicting perspectives on the police and their role in society. The first perspective sees the police as ordinary citizens, but wearing uniforms. The second perspective makes no distinction between the police and the state. Hence it defines the police as `the state in uniform'. The former derives its theoretical underpinnings from the school of thought commonly referred to as liberalism or idealism, while the latter is rooted in the radical political philosophy.³ As understood in the study of politics, the concept of liberalism connotes political ideas and principles which do not flow from a singular, coherent, and supposedly transcendental doctrine that claims to guide society or define its ultimate destiny. Individuals who subscribe to this political viewpoint are referred to as liberals.

Liberal analysts see the police as neutral custodians of public order in their respective societies. Implied in this view is that the police are not just apolitical, but immune from political influence or manipulation. Individual police functionaries may be fully knowledgeable about the nature of their country's political systems, but they neither get involved in politics nor ally themselves with competing parties and factions. Also implicit in this perspective is that policemen's actions are motivated not by personal prejudice, but by what is legally required of them. Police personnel might have individual political views but, generally, these do not determine the way they perform their official duties. Thus, according to this perspective, the police should not be subjected to political supervision.

Those subscribing to these views invoke the notions of professionalism and neutrality to support their argument. They stress the professional character of the policeman's job, the nature of training of police personnel, and the impersonal rules and disciplinary codes which guide their actions and behaviour and make them subordinate and accountable to the highest ranking officer in the police hierarchy. In addition, the argument continues, police forces are administrative agents with no discretionary powers.⁴

The liberal perspective asserts that "policing is based on consent while the legitimacy of police actions stems from broadly agreed values in society."⁵ Yet, this view implies some degree of popular control, thus contradicting one of liberalism's key assumptions that the police need no supervision by politicians. Indeed, the perspective can also be criticised for assuming that the training undergone by police recruits and the rules and disciplinary codes governing police behaviour are ideologically neutral. As part of national superstructures, however, these are key instruments of control and manipulation. Without these, government ministers and those managing the affairs of the state would not be able to exercise authority over their national police forces.

The liberal theory of political authority and the state emerged in the seventeenth century. John Locke, one of its key proponents, saw the state as the necessary evil that obviated the need for individuals to return to man's inherently conflictual and violent state of nature in which each individual defined and determined his rights and made and enforced his own laws. Locke argued that the primary duty of the state, which he defined as a public authority constructed by civil society in order to resolve the dilemma posed by the state of nature, was to guarantee freedom and protection for its citizens so that they could accumulate wealth and enjoy their property rights. The state, therefore, should create an appropriate political and social atmosphere that is conducive to wealth accumulation and the free transfer of property.⁶

But Locke advocated a government with limited powers which would be accountable to the people property owners for only these, according to him, contributed to wealth creation and happiness. Thus Locke's civil society consisted exclusively of property owners or the bourgeoisie. In the Lockean system of government, they were to be the custodians of the state. Classical liberalism, however, has undergone significant changes, of which the most important is the view that political franchise must be extended to all adult citizens, and that they must have the right to compete for political power regardless of their social status.

As opposed to liberal theory, the radical perspective sees the police as instruments of domination and oppression. According to this perspective, the police are an integral part of the state and their primary duty is to defend the interests of the ruling classes. The theoretical underpinning of this perspective is derived from Karl Marx's class theory of society and political authority. For Marx and the Marxists, the state is a tool for powerful classes. It is used by these classes to dominate all spheres of social, political and economic activity in their countries. Thus the police, as part of the state, promote and protect the interests of the dominant classes who are, in reality, the ruling classes.⁷ In fact, for Lenin the state consisted of armed men and all the institutions of coercion used to suppress the lower classes and to facilitate their exploitation by the bourgeoisie.⁸ But Lenin, like Marx, believed that the state (including the police) was transient and would therefore lose its importance and utility with the disappearance of classes and the realisation of `full democracy' a political order run by and for the benefit of the oppressed and exploited majority (the proletariat).

Marxism, however, has barely succeeded in upstaging liberalism as a democratic political formula. Following the collapse of the East European communist systems, liberalism has gained ascendancy, and remains virtually unchallenged as a framework for political democracy. Indeed, the Marxist political philosophy is increasingly retreating into the academic terrain for reasons that will not be explored in this article, even though debates about the role of the state and the police continue to rage. Suffice it to say that, in maintaining law and order, the police ultimately defend the status quo and subordinate the ruled to the rulers. It is also true that nation-states without conventional armies are dependent upon the police for their security. This scenario has impelled the rulers of such states not only to arm and equip the police, but also to give them military training. Paradoxically, however, this training bolsters their capability to challenge the state.

Admittedly, there are variations among countries with regard to the power of the police and the scope of their functions. In democratic states, police actions are supposedly constrained and circumscribed by the prevailing democratic political institutions and norms. Democracy is supposed to limit the power of the state while also legitimising its role. But, because of this rather contradictory role, "the state historically has been both an object of attack and a theatre of political contestations."⁹ But whether or not democracy is a panacea for mutinies, coups and rebellions is a moot point. By guaranteeing civil liberties, democracy may widen the scope for conspiracies, intrigues and plots. Likewise, by widening the scope for competition and popular participation it diffuses potentially damaging social tensions.

These two perspectives are fraught with weaknesses. The liberal perspective is utopian, its postulates being based on the faith in rather than the reality about the police. As a result, it tends to ignore or gloss over important variables that need to be taken into account when assessing the role of the police. These variables include their history, power resources or capabilities, role and training. Only by including these in analyses will enough light be shed on both the degree of congruence between the corporate interests of the police and those of the societies which they are supposed to be serving, and how these variables might shape the role of the police.

The Marxist theory is equally problematic, ruling out the police as possible forces for change. It is, indeed, of little value in attempts to explain police mutinies and/or rebellions. As is argued in the next section, the RLMP's armed challenge to the state in February 1997 has to do with its historical role, nature and capabilities.

THE ROYAL LESOTHO MOUNTED POLICE: HISTORY, NATURE AND ROLE

The RLMP (Basutoland Mounted Police (BMP) until independence in 1966), like its counterparts in the former colonies, was originally imposed, along with the colonial state, on Lesotho by Britain, the colonial power. It was inculcated on a sustained basis with an ideology and organisational values that emphasised its superiority and power over the colonised population. This process of indoctrination was reinforced by the military training provided for police personnel and the fact that the Commissioner of Police reported, not to the Paramount Chief, but to the Resident Commissioner. These factors, undoubtedly, shaped both the BMP's role and structural position within Lesotho's state system, deepening its alienation from the Basotho nation.

Created by and emerging as an organ and a tool of an alien rule, the BMP derived its legitimacy and power not from the Basotho nation, but from the colonial administration. Thus, in relation to the Basotho nation, the BMP was a ruler rather than a servant. Its effectiveness and success in its endeavours rested on force rather than the nation's voluntary co-operation. More powerful than the people and being the only armed institution in the country, the BMP became one of the most influential forces in colonial Basutoland. It performed a dual role military and law enforcement.

Arguably, with this structural position, the BMP's vision and conception of authority were bound to diverge from that of ordinary Basotho. In a sense, this position made it the ultimate custodian of the state. The purpose for which it was created, was to support colonialism. After all, the main reason for creating colonial police forces in the colonies was "to prolong the life of moribund European capitalism."¹⁰ The BMP performed this function until Lesotho attained independence.

The BMP was renamed the Lesotho Mounted Police (LMP) at the attaining of independence in October 1966. Like the BMP, the LMP performed a dual role, acting both as a law enforcement organ and a military unit until 1979 when the Prime Minister at the time, Leabua Jonathan, forged the Lesotho Para-Military Police (LPF) out of what was the LMP's riot squad, the Police Mobile Unit (PMU), in response to attacks by the South African-backed Lesotho Liberation Army (LLA) formed by exiles of the Basutoland Congress Party (BCP). The LPF became the Lesotho Defence Force after the overthrow of Jonathan on 20 January 1986.

The BMP was used to subdue all forms of political challenge to colonialism, including the institutions and mechanisms that buttressed, defended and sustained it. In order to perform this function without hindrance, senior police officers were given wide powers of arrest and detention for up to forty-eight hours without a warrant, while rank and file members enjoyed powers such as interrogation and summary arrest of offenders committing offences in their presence. Senior police officers were also armed with the power to administer oaths,¹¹ a phenomenon which undoubtedly engendered patron/clientele relations between them and the people.

Because of these powers with which independence has barely tampered the BMP wielded a considerable amount of influence over the Basotho nation. This was further enhanced by the predominantly military-type training offered to its personnel. This type of training survived both independence and the BMP's transformation into the LMP in 1966, and remains a key focus of recruits' training. Police personnel carry and use arms, as required, while on duty. Police training includes riot control, anti-insurgency techniques, intelligence gathering and surveillance. The training stresses the need for `toughness' when performing police duties. Toughness is supposed to be not only a virtue, but also a unique feature that distinguishes a policeman from a civilian. Thus, the training that is provided for LMP recruits inculcates a sense of superiority in them towards their civilian counterparts. This feeling is enhanced by remarks and epithets that associate a pronounced lack of discipline and other forms of weaknesses with civilians.

Great investments are also made in both the LMP's members' welfare and their equipment, a phenomenon that distinguishes it from other government departments. For example, the LMP is not only a highly mobile organisation, but also possesses efficient communications and transport systems. These enable its members to travel to and communicate with each other from any part of the country. The systems consist of vehicles, radios and telephones. Thus, some of the characteristics of the RLMP resemble those of the military and, as such, they constitute valuable resources at its disposal in the event of a confrontation with civilian groups. Similarly, these capabilities (arms and competence in their use, efficient communications systems, transport and unity of command) are valuable weapons that can be used in any confrontation with civilian rulers, indeed, as the mutineers used in resisting arrest in February 1997.

As has been the case in other former colonies, the state in post-colonial Lesotho has retained nearly all its colonial features. As Clapham observed, when independence was granted, the new rulers in the former colonies "indigenized, adapted and much extended the colonial state, an alien imposition ... existing on a plane above the people whom it governed and beyond any chance of control."¹²

According to Kibwana, these rulers "accepted not only the colonial state as the focus of their aspirations but also many of the changes which colonialism had introduced, including the essential machinery of government, notably a legislature, executive and judiciary ..."¹³

After Britain's departure, the LMP continued to be the state's critical security arm, maintaining not just law and order, but internal peace and stability. The Lesotho Internal Security (Public Meetings and Processions) Act No 15 of 1966 and the Internal Security (Arms and Ammunition) Act No 17 of 1966 empowered the police to regulate public meetings and processions, plus any acquisition of arms and ammunition. Under the first of these two acts, a police officer could disperse or change the date and venue of a public meeting, or divert a public procession at his discretion in the interests of peace and good order. Similarly, under the second act, no person could acquire or possess a gun or ammunition without a licence granted by the Commissioner of Police, who had the power to refuse an application in this respect if he did not believe that the applicant had "a good reason for purchasing, acquiring, or having in his possession a fire arm or ammunition ..."¹⁴

In December 1966 and January 1967, the LMP and its newly formed Police Mobile Unit (PMU) were used successfully to squash the first challenge mounted by the opposition political party/monarch alliance forged to unseat Prime Minister Jonathan. Acting in league with the opposition parties, the late King Moshoeshoe II stepped up a series of anti-Jonathan campaigns which culminated in an abortive pitso (public gathering), organised in defiance of a government ban at Thaba-Bosiu, on 27 December 1966. The pitso was violently dispersed by the PMU which allegedly shot dead ten people and wounded scores of other participants.¹⁵ Among the casualties was a police inspector who was killed by opposition members at a police roadblock at Teyateyaneng, about 35 kilometres from Maseru, the capital.¹⁶ The Thaba Bosiu saga and the subsequent attacks on the police stations in the north of the country by opposition members, increased the LMP's importance to the Government. This is borne out by an increase in the number of policemen from 823 in 1965 to 1 230 in 1970.¹⁷

THE 1970 STATE OF EMERGENCY AND AFTER

Lesotho held its first post-independence parliamentary elections on 27 January 1970 as a deeply divided nation following bitter struggles for power between the ruling BNP, and a combined Basutoland Congress Party (BCP) and Marema-Tlou Freedom Party (MFP) between 1966 and 1970. As shown above, some of these power struggles led to bloody clashes between opposition supporters and the police. As opposition pressure on his regime mounted, Jonathan's reliance on the police for his protection increased. The Lesotho Prime Minister used the LMP to maintain his party's increasingly threatened hegemony, arguing that "his main task was the protection of democracy."¹⁸ But this seemed to have fuelled suspicions about Jonathan's intentions among some observers, and his opponents dismissed this claim as a subterfuge for interfering with the electoral process. For example, Majammoho, the South African Communist Party (SACP) newspaper, warned at the end of 1969 that, "[t]he aim of the neocolonial regime (in Lesotho) is not to conduct fair and democratic elections, but to provoke, terrorize and intimidate the masses; to rig elections [sic] and to create conditions for a despotic, terroristic rule."¹⁹

Its sister journal, The African Communist, expressed similar misgivings in 1966, accusing Jonathan of attempting to "transform the Basotho people into Vorster's [South African Prime Minister] subjects."²⁰

The elections were held as scheduled. However, Jonathan refused to acknowledge defeat, annulling the election results and declaring a state of emergency with the approval and support of the Commissioner of Police.²¹ This was followed by the suspension of the Constitution, mass arrest of opposition leaders, and the banning of the Communist Party of Lesotho (CPL). Having no political legitimacy, Jonathan's Government relied on force and patronage to secure the nation's compliance. As the country did not have a national army, the LMP became Jonathan's crucial, if not indispensable tool in his bid to squash the opposition. The Prime Minister used the LMP to neutralise the opposition, permitting it to torture and detain his opponents for prolonged periods without trial. He ordered no investigations or inquests in respect of deaths in detention and abuses by LMP members during the emergency period.

Without checks on its actions, the LMP gained direct control over the nation's political life. Its riot squad, the PMU, assumed the role of a national guard, maintaining internal peace, security and stability a euphemism for neutralising the opposition and suppressing dissent. The state of emergency thus produced a `police state' in Lesotho whereby the police determined the country's security policy or, at least, played a significant role in the national security policy-making process. This role was unaffected by the transformation of the PMU into the Lesotho Para-Military Force (LPF) in 1979.

When the LPF became the Royal Lesotho Defence Force (RLDF) in 1986 after ousting Jonathan, the LMP became its arm, enforcing military decrees and orders. Serving an equally (if not more) repressive and unaccountable system, the LMP's relations with the civilian population remained asymmetrical. As the LLA attacks intensified in the early 1980s, the Commissioner of Police was given power under the Internal Security (General) Act of 1984 to impose curfews country-wide or in selected areas.²²

There is little doubt that, for its own stability, the military regime depended on the LMP. Not only did the LMP continue to maintain law and order, but it also suppressed popular opposition to the ruling military junta by arresting, detaining and prosecuting its critics for violations of its decrees.²³ Following the fall-out between the then Chairman of the Military Council and the monarch, and the subsequent dethronement of King Moshoeshoe II in 1990, the Commissioner of Police, J L Dingizwayo, and two of his senior police officers were offered ministerial posts which they occupied until 1993 when the military restored civilian rule to the Kingdom, a move ostensibly underscoring the LMP's importance.

POST-MILITARY ROYAL LESOTHO MOUNTED POLICE

The military formally relinquished power to the BCP after its landslide victory in the March 1993 elections, when it won all 65 constituencies in the country. The RLMP was one of the key state institutions inherited by the victorious BCP. However, the country's political history suggested that a BCP government would be an unwelcome prospect for the majority of the RLMP's senior officer cadre which was used to enforce the state of emergency and to counter the LLA's insurgency. On the other hand, the BCP government did little to assure the RLMP that there would be no reprisals against its members. Instead, some of its ministers and parliamentarians glibly touted the LLA as a harbinger of freedom and liberation, hence an alternative to the existing disciplined forces. The regime did not dissociate itself from this campaign, thus creating the impression that its ministers and parliamentarians were articulating an official government policy. In addition, after assuming power, the BCP government adopted and pursued contentious if not scary policies which tended to destabilise the civil service or cause anxiety and uncertainty among public servants. These included demotion and replacement by BCP activists and functionaries of scores of principal secretaries, heads of diplomatic missions, directors of government-owned institutions and heads of departments who served in the previous regimes.²⁴

Alongside the RLDF, the LMP had engaged the LLA in bitter and bloody battles until the demise of Jonathan in January 1986. Under the circumstances, it could easily resent any policies that might lead to the resuscitation and reorganisation of that guerrilla force. Such a resentment would find justification in the fact that the LLA was not disarmed on its return to Lesotho after the military take-over in 1986. The flaunting of the LLA by the ruling BCP and the pro-government MoAfrika newspaper became an irritant to the LMP and the army, as the following comment by the BNP's Mohlanka newspaper shows: "It is now about 141 weeks since MoAfrika has started carrying a declaration in every issue that it supports the LLA's integration into the nation's armed forces ... It has long been discovered that the LLA was trained as apartheid's surrogate force by the likes of De Kock (Commander of the South African Defence Force's death squad) and operated under their command in its attacks against Lesotho's security forces."²⁵

The LLA remains a politically contentious and polarising issue, even though President Masire of Botswana and President Mugabe of Zimbabwe, reporting on the aftermath of the January 1994 factional fighting within the army, recommended its integration into the LDF.²⁶ Mokhehle is probably under no illusions that integrating his former guerrilla army into the LDF will bring stability to the country as he has steadfastly ignored this call.

The Prime Minister's response notwithstanding, the playing of the LLA card by the regime's prominent personalities and the BCP's top functionaries rekindled the past hostilities between the RLMP and the BCP. Thus, the relations between the BCP government and the RLMP between April 1993 and February 1997 have been characterised by mutual suspicion and tension of which the February 1997 mutiny is the apogee. The following excerpts of RLMP's undated press statement, issued after the settlement of its May 1994 strike, underscored its distrust of the BCP government: "The RLMP is aware that government is facing a political problem in Lesotho through its practice of exclusiveness in governance under the pretence of a mandate from the electorate [sic]. It is the privilege of government to interpret this policy as tantamount to democracy [sic] ... The FIFTH BRIGADE (Zimbabwe's elite army contingent) with its Pan Africanist Alliance can impose its brand of democracy and restructure Lesotho security in such a manner as to affect the now empirical brand of `democratic' dictatorships [sic], characterizing certain African Commonwealth countries. We pray and request President Mandela and other democratic leaders of the subcontinent to be wary of them and their designs. Democracy cannot be saved when those at the political helm illegally and treasonably transgress the constitution of Lesotho ..."²⁷

The RLMP's rank and file members, led by Second Lieutenant Phakiso Molise, flexed their muscles again in February 1996, mounting an armed resistance to the arrest of Molise and eight other policemen for their alleged involvement in a police shoot-out on 31 October 1995 which resulted in the death of two senior police officers and a lance sergeant.²⁸ However, whether or not the resistance amounted to a plan to overthrow Mokhehle's government is a matter for conjecture. As indicated in section one of this article, the resistance developed into a mutiny or rebellion as the nine policemen and their sympathisers declared that they had dismissed the entire leadership of the RLMP and had therefore assumed its control.

What factors prompted the mutiny? Five issues probably underlie the mutineers' decision. The first seems to be the government's apparent failure or inability to maintain effective control over the state system, as is manifested by its submission to the RLDF's armed pressure in January 1994 for a hundred per cent salary increase. The second factor seems to be its dithering over the pursuit and/or prosecution of Baholo's murderers who are allegedly RLDF members; and a reneging on its offer of the post of Deputy Director of Prisons to a retired pro-Basutoland Congress Party (BCP) prisons officer, after threats of violence by prison warders. In the third instance, its general vacillation and inconsistency on crime and justice played a part, for example, the failure to disarm its former LLA guerrillas and charge them with the possession of unlicensed firearms. The fourth factor is the mutineers' belief that the RLDF, as their erstwhile partners, would not intervene as it did not do so during the RLMP's April 1994 strike and the NSS saga of the same year. The last factor is the Police Crisis Mediation Group's leaders of political parties, church leaders, business community leaders, and non-government organisations condemnation of the government's response to the mutiny, a stance clearly misconstrued as popular support for their conduct. The representatives of the Crisis Group tried unsuccessful to persuade the government to negotiate rather than to use force against the mutineers.²⁹

CONCLUSIONS

This article has attempted to comment critically on the relations of the Basutoland Congress Party and the Royal Lesotho Mounted Police in post-military Lesotho. It has focused on the February 1997 mutiny by some of the police personnel and has argued that explanations for police mutinies (or armed defiance of orders) lie beyond the familiar perspectives on the police. The analysis has demonstrated the weaknesses, and perhaps the inapplicability of these perspectives to the study of mutinies. The character, history and training, including its power resources (military weapons, skill, equipment and logistics) and structural position within the state system clearly make the RLMP a totally different police force than that assumed by the liberal and radical perspectives referred to above. The RLMP has historically served largely as a military organisation, a custodian of the colonial state and accountable only to the colonial authorities. Its character barely changed with the demise of colonialism. The features that made it strong in relation to the civilians, enabled it to exert military forms of pressure on the rulers, and even to flex its muscles by resisting or challenging the existing state authorities that remained intact after independence. It is therefore not surprising that it attempted to use these resources when it came to the crunch.

The state of emergency and the praetorianism that spanned a period of sixteen years from January 1970 to January 1986 greatly boosted the RLMP's political power, rendering it immune to popular scrutiny. It is not suggested, however, that the mutiny has been inevitable, nor is it argued that the outcomes of interaction between the Government and the police are predictable. Rather, it is argued that the RLMP has military resources that it can easily employ under certain circumstances.

ENDNOTES

See, for example, Makatolle (Basutoland Congress Party Newspaper), 19 February 1997; MoAfrika, 21 February 1997; Lesotho Christian Council's Work for Justice Newsletter, 50, October 1997.



Lesotho Defence Force Act No 4 of 1996, Section 48.



R Hague et. al., Comparative Politics and Government: An Introduction, Macmillan, London, 1993, pp. 380-81.



G Pontan et. al., Introduction to Politics, Blackwell, Oxford, 1993, p. 198.



Hague, op. cit., p. 381.



R Plant, Modern Political Thought, Blackwell, Oxford, 1991, p. 253.



K Marx & F Engels, The Communist Manifesto, Penguin, Harmondsworth, 1986, p. 82.



V I Lenin, The State and Revolution, International Publishers, New York, 1984, p. 12.



J Coleman, Against the State, BBC Books, London, 1992, p. 12.



C Clapham, Third World Politics, Routledge, London, 1992, p. 19.



F K Makoa, The Concepts of National Security, paper presented to a Lesotho/UNDP Seminar on the Role of the National Security Service in Democracy, Maseru Sun International, 14-18 April 1997, p. 11.



P Schmitter, In the Transition to Democracy, in Proceedings of a Workshop, Commission on Behavioral Sciences and Education, National Research Council, National Academy Press, Washington DC, 1991, p. 21.



K Kibwana, Development of Democratic Culture and Civil Society in Africa: An Analysis of Relevant Constitutional Initiatives and Models, Lesotho Law Journal, 6(1), 1990, pp. 22-23.



Lesotho Mounted Police: Selected Statutes for Training School, Government Printer, Maseru, 1967.



G W Strom, Development and Dependence in Lesotho, the Enclave of South Africa, Lyber Tryck, Stockholm, 1978, pp. 102-103.



F K Makoa, Lesotho Political Parties: Focus on the Basutoland Congress Party (BCP), Southern Africa Political and Economic Monthly, 5(10), 1992, p. 33.



Strom, op. cit., p. 103.



F K Makoa, Lesotho's Political Crisis since Independence: The Role of Apartheid South Africa, in M Sejanamane (ed.), From Destabilisation to Regional Cooperation in Southern Africa?, Institute of Southern African Studies, Roma, Lesotho, 1994, p. 154.



Majammoho, 15 December 1969.



The African Communist, 41, Last Quarter 1966, p. 67.



F K Makoa, Political Instability in Post-Military Lesotho: The Crisis of the Basotho Nation-state?, African Security Review, 5(3), 1996, p. 14.



See, for example, The Internal Security (General) Act No 86 of 1994.



F K Makoa, The Meaning of Reconciliation and Unity in Lesotho of the 1980's: Implications for Future Constitutional Developments, Lesotho Law Journal, 6(1), 1990, p. 303.



Makoa, 1996, op. cit., p. 16.



Mohlanka Newspaper, 1 February 1997 (author's translation).



Report by V M Malebo on his meeting with the Deputy Prime Minister, Mr P Mosisili, 11 February 1996 [sic 1997].



R G Mugabe & K Masire, Report on the Presidential Visit to the Kingdom of Lesotho on 11-12 February, 1994, in F K Makoa, King Letsie III Coup, paper read at the Social Sciences Staff Seminar, National University of Lesotho, Roma, 2 February 1995, p. 6.



The Royal Mounted Police Statement, press release [n.d.].



The Honourable G P C Kotze, Commission of Inquiry: Royal Lesotho Mounted Police 31st October 1995, 3 September 1996, pp. 27-28.