The south African experience in dealing with communal violence

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By Danie Meyer Director, Public Order Police, Durban

Published in African Security Review Vol 8 No 1, 1999

INTRODUCTION

The South African Police Service (SAPS) has a paramilitary character, rooted in its origin as a colonial force. This paramilitary structure was further enhanced by the need of the former South African state to control the many threats to public order which apartheid — by its nature — generated.

The literature on Africa since the 1980s has tended to focus on concerns pertaining to both the inability of states to govern and to deliver, as well as the growing levels of social conflict which include unabated political and criminal violence.¹ Indeed, according to Laakso and Olukoshi, increased violence and social conflict in Africa are signs of a deepening social inequality, weak states and a lack of ‘social glue’. Consequently, democracy — generally built upon a representative, elected government, freedom of association, state accountability and delivery, and public participation — has become the supposed answer to this crisis.²

For some, South Africa has provided the inspiration for democratisation processes in Africa. This has led, however, to a virtual amnesia regarding South Africa’s repressive and illegitimate past, to the extent that Momdani has remarked that, "… for many intellectuals", South Africa is not Africa.³

In considering South Africa, if the new democratic state is unable to deliver, it will also face a crisis of authority and legitimacy as is currently the case with many other states in Africa. Furthermore, despite the current euphoric nationalism in South Africa, the ‘social glue’ is already coming unstuck, manifesting itself in extreme levels of social conflict, in particular criminal and political violence. As a result, South Africa has emphasised the need for national security and social order as part of its democratisation and development programme. A key player in this regard is the SAPS.

Shaw anticipated this approach when he stated that "… few issues are more central to the future of the country’s attempt at democratic compromise than the maintenance of public order ... Restoring civil order and personal security for all South Africans is thus very important to a successful transition and a credible, competent and accountable police force, enjoying broad public legitimacy, is a prerequisite for a durable democracy."⁴ In fact, for both South Africa and its citizens, eliminating crime and social violence is the top priority. A reformed and democratic police service is viewed as key to this project. However, while the primary role of the state police is social order through the reduction of crime and conflict, this is not easily achieved given both the history of the South African police and the paradoxical nature of policing in general.

The issues confronting policing are not isolated to South Africa. Indeed, it seems that policing has become a public concern for most African countries. A recent article in Le Monde Diplomatique lamented that ‘Black’ Africa is characterised by ineffective and repressive police forces (often referred to as bandits) who are unable to deal with increasing crime and social disorder. However, there has been no researched account of the role of the police in a (hopefully) changing order in Africa, despite the acknowledgement that "… law and order are legitimate and indeed essential aspects of democracy which only states that are both strong and responsive can assure."⁵

This article will review the history and current conceptualisation of the Public Order Police (POP) in responding to communal violence. It will then examine the potential of the public order police in attaining a democratic outlook in South Africa by using case studies of incidents occurring within the country.

In the province of KwaZulu-Natal, the conflict between the main political parties — the African National Congress (ANC) and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) — mostly contributes to the unrest and violence, although the security situation is aggravated by ethnic conflict, faction fights, taxi violence, internal conflict among ANC party members and a spiral of revenge and counterrevenge attacks.

Prior to 1990, the only black political party that still operated in South Africa was the IFP. The ANC, the South African Communist Party (SACP) and the Pan-Africanist Congress (PAC) had been banned and were not allowed to be active in the country. During the period leading up to 1990, unrest and violence, particularly faction fighting, could be linked to political events taking place in the country. Faction fighting broke out on issues that were started in one location, for example in the hostels, and brought back to the rural areas where clan members lived.

Political opposition between the ANC and IFP also began to grow as revolutionary activities were being organised underground. The ANC/SACP alliance began forming street committees and unions, aimed at taking control of the black townships.

Taxi violence flared up as individuals sought to gain control of a lucrative industry, which was symbolic of black empowerment. Taxi operators attempted to eliminate all contenders to the industry by attacking trains and buses, thereby forcing the commuters to make use of taxis. Taxi owners were killed to gain control over their routes. The industry quickly became one in which ‘only the strongest survived’.

The Police Act of 1958 defined the function of the then South African Police (SAP) as the promotion of internal stability in South Africa and its dependent territories, the maintenance of law and order and the prevention of crime. As in other societies where there are restrictions on the development of a specialised administrative service, the SAP is also responsible for a variety of tasks related to these functions. These include administering the agricultural census in rural areas, guarding South Africa’s territorial fisheries and manning customs posts along national boundaries. There is also merger between policing and the administration of justice, as the police institute criminal prosecutions in rural areas where there are no public prosecutors. In many smaller towns, they act as assistant clerks and messengers of the court, as well as excise officers, immigration officers, wardens and revenue officers. They also assist in the registration of births and deaths, serve as health inspectors, inspectors of vehicles and licences, postal agents and mortuary attendants. These duties demonstrate that policing in South Africa is not separated from functions surrounding the administration of justice and civil administration. This is characteristic of other dimensions of policing in South Africa and is symptomatic of the state’s reliance on the police in areas which usually lie outside normal police work.⁶

The SAP made use of the following Acts to deal with public order:

the Public Safety Act of 1953, which allowed for a state of emergency to be declared and which could be used to suspend most laws;



the Post Office Act of 1953 which allowed for mail to be intercepted if it was suspected of containing evidence of crime;



the Protection of Information Act of 1982 which gave the State President authority to declare any place or area prohibited, and anybody found there "for any purpose prejudicial to the security or interest of the Republic" could be jailed for twenty years;



the Intimidation Act of 1982 which made it an offence to intimidate a person by threat or assault, was frequently used in industrial disputes; and



the Demonstration in or near Court Building Prohibition Act of 1982 which banned protests near court buildings in support of prisoners.

It was after the Sharpeville shooting in 1960 that detention was first used on a wide scale. On 1 March 1960, the PAC launched a campaign protesting against various apartheid laws, including the pass laws. Pamphlets were distributed calling on township residents to march to the local police stations. On 21 March, they presented themselves for arrest for failure to carry their passbooks. On the same day, a crowd of approximately 20 000 people gathered at the Sharpeville police station. The crowd was pressing towards the police station and the police feared an imminent attack in which they would be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the crowd. A police line of seventy men was formed and they were ordered to load their firearms.

A scuffle broke out at the gate of the police station between a police officer and a protestor. The crowd surged forward to see and some burst through the gate. Stones were thrown at the police and two shots fired from the crowd. Almost immediately after these shots were heard by the police, the whole line started shooting. No order to fire was given and firing lasted between ten and thirty seconds, during which time some 700 shots were fired. Altogether 69 people were killed and 108 wounded; 11 727 people were detained on the first day of the state of emergency.

Between 1980 and 1981, the Rabbie Commission reviewed the security legislation which bestowed this degree of control. The Commission deliberated against the backdrop of domestic and international opposition to bannings, a furore over a spate of suspicious deaths in detention, and in a climate where a new political dispensation was being formulated to grant coloured and Asians a role in central government. The Commission concluded that, while the legislation was regrettable, it was necessary, given the prevailing conditions in the country.

In 1982, the government implemented the Internal Security Act as its legislative response to the Rabbie Commission. In the midst of some reform, security legislation was strengthened under the Act. The Act identified various categories of detention and conditions for detention. The offence of terrorism was more broadly and loosely defined. Briefly, it consisted of the commission of an act of violence with the intent to overthrow or endanger the state’s authority, or to achieve, bring about or promote any constitutional, political, industrial, social or economic aim or change in the country, to threaten or attempt such an act, or to perform any act which is aimed to achieve or threaten violence.

The offence of subversion is equally broad, consisting of the commission of an act with the same intent as that of terrorism, which endangers or prejudices the state or community, or where a person conspires with, incites or encourages any person, to commit such an act. Charges of terrorism or subversion could therefore be laid against workers in industrial disputes, school children boycotting classes and against participants in peaceful demonstrations.

The South African government declared a state of emergency in 36 districts in 1985 and again throughout the country in June 1986. In the seven and a half months of the first state of emergency, nearly 11 000 people were detained.

Thus, the SAP had been given effective carte blanche in dealing with public disorder. Until 1990, the police ruled with an iron fist and had the backing of the law. Mass action was limited due to the fear of legal repercussions.

Since 2 February 1990, South Africa has been caught in the vortex of transition. It has been a time of turbulence, uncertainty and of rivalry between contenders for political power. It has been a time when mass rallies and marches have become increasingly important political tools. It has been a time which places a sharp focus on the role of the police in exercising control over such rallies and marches, in keeping the balance between order and anarchy, and in holding the ring between political antagonists.⁷

The police have been criticised in this regard. It is alleged, inter alia, by both the ANC and IFP that they have shown a preference for the other, have stood on the sidelines and failed to act against the perpetrators of violence, and to have used excessive force in dispersing peaceful protest. The following case studies highlight this criticism

On 24 March 1991, a group of approximately 200 ANC supporters gathered in Daveyton on the East Rand, near Johannesburg. According to the ANC, the men were armed only with traditional weapons, and the purpose of the meeting — for which permission had not been obtained — was to discuss ways of defending the community from possible attacks following an Inkatha rally, which was being held nearby.

The ANC stated that the police arrived on the scene, gave the group ten minutes to disperse, and while the men were still discussing the issue, opened fire. The men tried to run away, but were trapped by a police vehicle, from which shots were also fired. A battle between ANC members and the police followed. According to police statements, the police came upon the illegal gathering and ordered the men, who were armed with petrol bombs, pangas and other weapons, to disperse. Instead, they attacked the police, singling out one policeman in particular. The police were then compelled to open fire in self-defence.

Twelve ANC supporters were killed and 27 injured. One policeman was stabbed to death and two were injured. The police launched a special investigation into the incident, while the ANC called for the appointment of an independent commission of enquiry.

On Friday 9 August 1991, then State President F W de Klerk, was scheduled to address a meeting of the National Party (NP) in Ventersdorp. The town is home to Eugene Terre’Blanche, the leader of the Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB), who allegedly warned the President repeatedly that he was not welcome in Ventersdorp and should stay away. Right-wing activists are also alleged to have threatened to disrupt any meeting held by the President in the town and to prevent him from speaking.

Shortly before the NP meeting was to begin, some 2 000 AWB supporters — armed with pistols and hunting rifles — approached the hall where the President was to speak, which was guarded by approximately 2 000 policemen, and attempted to break through the police line.

According to press reports, they were incited to do so by Piet Rudolph, Secretary General of the AWB, who called on his followers to ‘take on’ the razor wire, police and police dogs, in order to disrupt the meeting. AWB supporters attacked two minibuses, firing on one, and the police opened fire on the AWB supporters, in turn.

One AWB supporter was shot dead and two were killed by a minibus. In the ensuing street battle, 48 people were injured, including six policemen and thirteen AWB supporters. The AWB claims that the police acted without warning, and had been ordered to shoot to kill. The police concede that this order was given, but contend that this was only after three policemen had been shot. In addition, the police claim that, even after this order was given, mainly teargas and birdshot were deployed, and that no ball ammunition was used.

The battle of Ventersdorp has focused attention sharply on the role of the riot police in the context of transition. As the stakes become progressively higher, protest and power plays — often accompanied by violence — are likely to increase. The role of the police service in handling this volatile situation will thus be of cardinal importance to the future of South Africa.⁸

The government, in an attempt to terminate the violence which had already claimed many lives, held a National Peace Convention on 14 September 1991, which led to the drafting of a National Peace Accord, of which the purpose was to formulate a common purpose aimed at bringing an end to political violence in the country, and setting out the codes of conduct, procedures and mechanisms to achieve this goal. During the Peace Convention, it was decided that the police service has a central role to play in the termination of violence and the prevention of future acts of violence. To this end, a Code of Conduct was formulated for the SAPS.

To further substantiate the intended purpose of structurally addressing violence, Chapter 5 (paragraph 5.12) of the National Peace Accord makes provision for the facilitation of crisis assistance that will link socio-economic development by, inter alia, dealing with the immediate effects of violence and the resulting social effects.

Furthermore, Chapter 6 of the National Peace Accord makes provision for a Commission of Enquiry into the prevention of public violence and intimidation. In terms of the Prevention of Public Violence and Intimidation Act of 1991, the Commission’s objective was to:

enquire into the phenomenon of public violence and intimidation in South Africa, its nature and causes and the identity of those people who are involved;



consider any steps that should be taken in order to prevent public violence and intimidation; and



make recommendations to the President regarding steps to prevent violence or intimidation.

Several recommendations were made by the Commission with regard to this last point, including:

An effective police presence should be deployed in local communities.



The new Division of Internal Security would appear to be the only suitable branch of the police to counter violence.



Urgent steps should be taken to prohibit the carrying of any dangerous weapons in public at any time.

In addition, recommendations were made by the Commission to improve the relationship between the police and local communities. These included:

In order to rectify perceptions of the Internal Stability Unit (ISU), members should wear blue uniforms to enforce the image of the ISU as a policing agency and not a military force.



Normal police vehicles should be used, with armoured vehicles only being used in high-risk situations and areas.



Where circumstances permit, female members of the ISU will be deployed in normal patrolling duties.



Integration of all members in the ISU will continue.



Weapons and tactics will be adapted to enforce the image of the ISU as a policing agency, as well as to give greater effect to the principles of minimum violence.



The name of the ISU will be changed in order to accommodate its new image.

New legislation resulted from an enquiry instituted by the Goldstone Commission into the regulation of gatherings and marches, aimed at limiting disruption and violence as much as possible. The resulting Bill is a co-operative effort by a panel of South African and international experts, in conjunction with representatives of the ANC, IFP, SAPS, South African National Defence Force and the Department of Justice. At the enquiry, broad agreement was reached on the right to peaceful, public expression and peaceful assembly, with the parallel right to state protection in the enjoyment of these rights. The basic feature of the procedure to regulate gatherings is that of the process of negotiation. Thus, negotiations should be instituted with interested parties, including the police, in order to ensure the peaceful progress of the gathering and the protection of participants and non-participants.

Provision is made in the Bill for the general conduct of gatherings. The powers of the police to protect participants and non-participants in a gathering are laid down. The circumstances under which dispersal and the use of force may be ordered, are also laid down.

The law enforcement agency was compelled to move from suppressing violence to a more community participative approach of negotiation and facilitation in policing. New skills had to be acquired to identify situations with a high potential for violence and to assist groups in defusing volatile situations. This resulted in a more pragmatic approach to the maintenance of order rather than clinical law enforcement. In the process, the police’s riot control capability was restructured on 1 January 1992 into the Internal Stability Division (ISD). This division comprised 36 Internal Stability Units deployed in ten regions.

The main function of the ISD is the policing of unrest through proactive (preventive) and reactive measures and the prevention of crime in unrest-plagued areas. A high premium is placed on negotiation to defuse conflict. To this end, a case study may serve to elucidate this dimension of unrest management.

On Thursday 5 August 1992, the ANC applied to the Despatch Town Council to march through the town. Permission was refused. The alliance indicated that they would march regardless. Signals were received that the AWB intended to confront the demonstrators. On the next day, 500 marchers gathered at the entrance to the town, while AWB members assembled 200 metres away with an array of firearms. In between, several police vehicles maintained a neutral ground.

Negotiations started with both groups. The police initially negotiated alone, with a mediator from the Regional Dispute Resolution Committee and a United Nations representative being called in later. Through negotiation, an agreement was reached that called off the march on that day, but rescheduled the march for the following week for 10 000 participants.

On the positive side, negotiation resulted in the temporary defusion of a potentially violent confrontation, immediately relieving tension and gaining time to ensure procedural compliance for the forthcoming march and for liaison between the police, the ANC and the local authority. However, the delay also allowed for conflict escalation. Such an escalation is characterised by increased investment of resources in the conflict, entrenched positions and a resort to confrontation rather than to problem solving-strategies.

The mediators set themselves several objectives in the time available before the second scheduled march. They sought to:

reframe the dispute from one of blunt adversorialism to one of negotiation/problem-solving;



find means of softening broad line resistance;



gain the confidence of all parties to enable the police to handle whatever events could arise, in an effort to ease fears of control and prevent citizens from arming themselves for confrontation; and



establish foundations for long term negotiations in an effort to prevent confrontational events in the future.

To achieve these objectives, meetings were held with the town council, which put forward a team to negotiate with the ANC alliance on the issue of the march (something that would earlier have been unthinkable). On Thursday 13 August 1992, ANC and town council representatives met and an agreement was reached along the following lines:

5 000 people would march;


a shorter route would be followed;

ANC marshals would line the route ( a total of 500);

specially trained squads of police would march in front and behind the demonstrators;

a strong police presence would line the route; and

the event would take place from 10:00 to 15:00.

The march itself proceeded peacefully, being monitored by a UN observer and the National Peace Secretariat.

In retrospect, an enormous investment of time and energy was made in keeping the peace. Several important lessons were learned from the Despatch crisis regarding those factors that might foster the protection of civil liberties and promote negotiation in future. These include:

the importance of proper notice and consultation;



defusing resistance by hardliners by expanding the negotiating constituency to include those adhering to a softer line; and



refocusing the dispute away from concepts of power and rights to those of interests and responsibilities, in order to promote the use of negotiation tactics.

The underlying factor in effectively managing communal unrest or violence lies in the participative involvement of all parties concerned. In April 1994, South Africa held its first democratic elections and with it came a new chapter in policing.

There are few, if any institutions that are as central to state functioning as the police. In many ways, the police not only reflect the nature of the state, but are responsible either for the prevention or the promotion of state change.

Marenin argues that the police are major actors in changing societies.⁹ They are involved in crucial activities such as the combating of crime, the protection of citizens and the curtailing of threats to the functioning of society. It is this very contact with the public that sets the police on the centre stage in changing societies. In Marenin’s view, as the entire world moves towards democracy, there is also a quest for policing to become more democratic.

Changing policing within changing states is common not only to South Africa and Europe. Attempts to democratise the police as an institution is a contemporary phenomenon stretching from Latin America to Eastern Europe to Asia and across North America. This reflects attempts by countries to become increasingly accountable to their citizens, and the concurrent acknowledgement that this cannot be done without the support of the police as both objects and agents of change.

Internationally, the quest for more democratic and effective policing in line with state democratisation processes, has led to a new discourse and practise of policing. This has led to elevated civil participation in and control over policing, as well as a reduction in the legitimacy of the use of force. As a response, policing, particularly protest policing, has had to become more ‘co-operative’. Debates continue among police organisations, governments, political parties, and academics dealing with how democratic and civilised a country’s police should be. This is of crucial importance in Africa, where civil participation has the potential to further divide communities.

An international desire to conceptualise new styles of policing has emerged along with global and national change. In this regard, ‘community policing’ has become the phrase to express the shift in policing which allows for greater civilian involvement. National police have a key role to play in providing an environment which is safe and secure for all citizens. While the nature of the state will largely determine the form that policing takes, the police service should be encouraged to develop some degree of autonomy in carrying out their functions.

This means that the police have to make use of their discretionary abilities to decide when it is appropriate to enforce the law, and when to encourage social order as defined by communities, which does not infringe on the rights of others. Real social order is only sustainable if communities and individuals have an interest in it. A short case study of Richmond, in KwaZulu-Natal illustrates the point.

Richmond is an area in the Midlands of KwaZulu-Natal, and has been the site of continuous violence and warlordism. This area has been particularly conflictive since the ANC expelled one of its members from the party in April 1997, because of his alleged involvement with the security police. Since then, a total of 45 people have been killed in political violence.

Public Order Police were deployed to stop the killing and there were even calls from the politicians for a state of emergency in the area. The police quickly realised that there was little they could do to stop the violence and that they were dependent on the community for co-operation and information. In addition, the presence of public order police was only a short-term solution that gave the community a sense of safety and security because it was able to use force to ensure compliance, but did not address the causes of the ongoing violence.

The use of such powers (forceful means) by the police is one mechanism for asserting state authority, and consequently rebuilding confidence in the state. However, this has to be done where the public are convinced that the police are acting in the interest of broader collective security and social stability. As Bayley rightly asserts, the modern police ultimately play two major roles: authoritative intervention and symbolic justice. He defines authoritative intervention as the attempt to restore order without looking at resolving the causes of disorder. Symbolic justice, on the other hand, is the enforcement of law, its purpose is demonstrative, to show offenders and the public that a regime of law exist.¹⁰

What became clear from Richmond was that force alone was not the solution to the problem of social disorder. Involvement of all roleplayers was important and the deployment of the public order police was to create an environment for negotiation and levelling of the playing fields.

South Africa has undergone transformation processes in both government and the police, but the lack of real policing structures in the country, together with high levels of social disorder and conflict, remain problematic. In the interim, public order policing structures which are highly mobile, highly trained and equipped with knowledge of sophisticated weapons may be a solution to the use of the military in internal security. However, as in the case of KwaZulu-Natal, such policing structures must be bound by principles of accountability, consultation, minimum force, and civilian oversight, in line with the move internationally towards democratisation in policing. The police have shown that they alone cannot solve the problem of conflict, but are central to the project. Their mission is to help balance the concern for collective security and individual freedom.

Edited version of a paper presented at The Military Response to Conflict — A Franco/South African Dialogue, Paris, France, 25-26 May 1998.

See for example, N Chazzan et al. (eds.), Politics and Society in contemporary Africa, Lynne Rienner, Boulder, Colorado, 1988.



See L Laakso & A O Olukoshi, The Crisis of the Post-colonial Nation-state Project in Africa, in A O Olukoshi & L Laakso (eds.), Challenges to the Nation-state in Africa, Nordiska Afrikainstitutet, Uppsala, 1997.



M Mamdani, Making Sense of the Political Impasse in South Africa, Codesria 8th General Assembly on Crisis, Conflicts, and Transformations: Responses and Perspectives, Dakar, 26 June — 2 July 1995, p. 1.



M Shaw, Buying Time? Vigilante Action, Crime Control and State Responses, Indicator Crime and Conflict, 6, 1996, p. 1.



E Hutchful, Militarism and Problems of Democratic Transition, Codesria, op. cit., p. 5



For more on this subject, see D Brewer, The Police, Public Order and the State, MacMillan, Hong Kong, 1988.



ee A Jeffery, Riot Policing in Perspective, South African Institute of Race Relations, Cape Town, 1991.



Ibid.



For elaboration, see O Marenin, Policing Change, Changing Police, Garland Publishing, New York, 1996.



D Bayley, Police for the Future, Oxford University Press, New York, 1996, pp. 34-35.