Key points

The general weaknesses of policing in South Africa are compounded in the deep rural environment by the geographic isolation and inaccessible topography of many of these areas, a lack of infrastructure and the resource and capacity constraints of the police and those whom they are meant to serve.

Consistent visible policing, a common strategy for deterring particular crimes in urban environments is impossible, for all practical purposes.

The limited police presence in the rural areas and infrastructural constraints mean that most interaction between the police and those whom they serve, occurs at the police station when police assistance is sought.

Policing is therefore almost wholly reactive, but its effectiveness is severely limited by the ability of the police to respond adequately, and especially, by the lack of communication and feedback provided by the police to those who report crime.



There appears to be a practical prioritisation in which the most serious crime is responded to as fast as possible, and lesser cases dealt with when time and resource constraints allow, or in other instances, simply discarded.



Very little, if any, information on the manner in which the police are dealing with the reported crime is provided to the victim.

Therefore, there appears to be a general lack of confidence in the ability of the police to deal with crime in the rural areas and dissatisfaction with the service provided by the police.

Despite this, the levels of crime reporting and especially reporting to the police, are realtively high, indicating that police in the rural areas are still viewed as the primary authorities for dealing with crime

Challenges facing rural policing

In his foreword to the KwaZulu-Natal department of safety and security’s 1998 annual report, the member of the executive committee of the provincial legislature responsible for the safety and security portfolio, Inkosi N J Ngubane, notes that: "Conscious of the failures of the past, we tend to face the future with a certain amount of trepidation."1 Given the challenges facing effective policing in the rural areas of South Africa, trepidation may well be the only appropriate emotion for those responsible for its delivery.

Indeed, such are these challenges that the 1998 white paper on safety and security deliberately did not engage with them, but rather directed the department of safety and security "to prioritise the development of policy related to the provision of effective and efficient law enforcement and crime prevention in the rural areas."2

What, then, is it that makes ‘effective and efficient law enforcement’ in the rural areas so difficult? Most obviously, the general weaknesses of policing in South Africa — such as limited resources, an overly centralised and bureaucratic hierarchy, a general lack of appropriate skills and training, a dearth of managerial expertise, and a limited intelligence and investigative capacity — are compounded in the rural environment by the geographic isolation of many of these areas, their lack of infrastructure, the skewed allocation of resources and the capacity constraints of the police and those whom they are meant to serve.

The range and scope of these issues imply a fundamental redefinition of the role of the police in rural environments.

Tugela Ferry and its police station provide a brief example. Situated on the banks of the Tugela river deep in the hilly and scenic KwaZulu-Natal Midlands, the small town of Tugela Ferry may only be accessed via the winding R33, and the rusting wrecks that litter the side of the road at fairly regular intervals, caution for care. The town itself is little more than a short and potholed main road, lined on either side with general dealer stores, hawkers selling fruit and vegetables, a supermarket, petrol station and a mini-bus taxi rank. Yet, outside this centre live some 1.5 million people, located in ten localities spread over roughly 1 400 square kilometres. The population is very poor, the vast majority of people of economically active age are unemployed and the return of migrant labourers, as job opportunities for semi and unskilled labour in the formal sector shrink throughout the country, has placed enormous pressure on local development.

The site of significant political violence from the mid-1980s to early 1990s, the area is notorious for its violence. Although the political violence has dissipated, the area is now troubled by aggressive ‘faction-fighting’ related to high rates of stock-theft, as well as murder and armed robbery. Recently, there has also been an increase in taxi violence, hijacking and vehicle theft. For years the Tugela Ferry area has been associated with a wide proliferation of firearms including handguns and semi-automatic rifles. However, in 1998, the specialised police firearm unit was apparently moved away from its base at the station to Glencoe, some 97 kilometres away.3

Set to deal with this are Tugela Ferry’s police station commissioner, the young, articulate and confident Captain Zondi who has been there for just more than a year, and his staff of 30 police officers. Eight of these police officers are detectives and the remaining 22 are deployed for ‘proactive’ or ‘visible policing’ duties.

According to an assessment by the SAPS’s management services, Tugela Ferry should be policed by 60 police officers — the station is therefore underresourced, at least in terms of this assessment, by 50%.4

However, according to the SAPS deputy provincial commissioner for KwaZulu-Natal, assistant commissioner Ngidi, national criteria set by SAPS head office in Pretoria aim at a police-citizen ratio of 2.4 per 1 000. Understaffed KwaZulu-Natal is currently policed at a ratio of 1.9 per 1 000.5 In rural KwaZulu-Natal, however, the situation is far worse. Indeed, the concentration of police stations in and around the Durban metropolitan area makes the average figure for policing in the province almost meaningless for rural police stations.

For instance, the total police presence in Tugela Ferry is equal to one police officer per 50 000 residents spread over 46.6 square kilometres. This calculation, of course, does not factor in the shift system, authorised vacation and sick leave, unauthorised absenteeism and disciplinary suspensions. Together, these would account for more than one-third of the staff at any one time. Therefore, in terms of actual operational policing, a more accurate ratio would probably be closer to one police officer per 75 000 residents, spread over 70 square kilometres of rough terrain.

Nevertheless, the staff complement is more fortunate than most in the rural areas — the eight detectives at the station have been trained for their functions and just two or three members are not fully literate. (According to the minister for safety and security, 37 841 of the 126 500 members of the SAPS are considered to be functionally illiterate — 29.9%).6

The police station has ten vehicles — two 4X4s and eight light vans. However, not only is the appropriateness of the light vans for the local topography questionable, just four members of staff have driver’s licences. (Overall in KwaZulu-Natal, some 4 000 of the province’s 17 500 police officers are not licenced to drive — 23%).7 In practice, this means that one of these four officers needs to be on duty at all times, which affects their standby and rest periods.

The station’s information systems are computerised, but, given the lack of personnel trained to use them and inadequate maintenance and support systems, the computers are mainly offline. The intelligence gathering and analysis capabilities of the station are therefore very limited.

This clear lack of required resources saps motivation as police staff are able to provide only the most basic reactive services, and they know it. Just how basic these services can be, is illustrated by the manner in which the police are forced to deal with murder victims in the outlying areas.

Captain Zondi provides an example of a violent faction fight in a mountainous area which resulted in a number of deaths.8 The incident was reported at the police station two days after the event. After allowing the person reporting the incident to rest a little, the police drove as far as was possible in their light van, accompanied by other police officers in a flatbed pickup as there was no mortuary van. They walked the rest of the way and arrived at the site of the incident the following day. After some initial questioning and taking statements, the police had to carry the corpses down the mountain on their shoulders, and on returning to their vehicles, had to bend and break the bodies, as rigour mortis had set in, to fit them into the pickup. The bodies were then transported to town, in the back of the open pickup, for examination. Not surprisingly, the police were accused by relatives of the deceased, and others who saw the pickup on its way to town, of lacking respect for the dead — an important cultural taboo. It apparently took considerable time and effort to repair relations with the community.

It appears that this was not an isolated event. Rather, it seems to be fairly standard practice. Indeed, captain Zondi’s predecessor pointed out, in an interview in 1998, that "we know it’s against the rules and if you are caught you can be disciplined, but what can we do if we don’t have mortuary vans?"9

Given these circumstances, the station battles with morale and discipline issues, evidenced by absenteeism and alcohol abuse. There is little captain Zondi can do — disciplinary matters, beyond that of issuing either verbal or written warnings, are dealt with at the area level of command. These matters can take up to two years to resolve, a period during which the police officer facing disciplinary procedures would remain on duty.10

Allied to this is the absence of systemic incentives for good performance — there is no systemic means of distinguishing between those constables who dedicate time and effort to serving those in need, and those who just go through the motions or, in some instances, simply do not. All will receive the same pay-cheque at the end of the month. Indeed, there are no incentives for police officers to serve in the rural areas at all. Often removed from family and friends, living in rough, sometimes squalid conditions away from the amenities and recreation offered in the cities, police officers in the rural areas receive the same benefits as those serving in more developed environments.

Six years after the Interim constitution first provided for the establishment of structured community participation in policing issues, and four years after the South African Police Service Act made it the responsibility of the police to ensure this, the station still does not have a functioning community police forum (CPF). The police at Tugela Ferry have done what they can to act on this — they have engaged community leaders, advertised the functions of the CPF and delegated liaison functions to a community police officer.

However, tension between rival political groups and the fear of victimisation caused by such tension prevent local church groups, youth and women’s organisations from participating. Further, the logistic requirements to reach the station mean that community meetings are becoming increasingly infrequent. As captain Zondi says: "I’m on my own here."11 This is compounded by the fact that only the South African National Defence Force (SANDF) provides support to police programmes aimed at preventing crime. In captain Zondi’s experience, there has been no real participation from other government departments which "provide more lip service than action."12

Given these circumstances, it is not surprising that Zondi finds the proactive and participatory community policing advocated by the SAPS’s national and provincial command structures, "a fine abstract concept" and that he is a little bitter at being "showered with criticism for not showing successes."13

Given that the situation in Tugela Ferry is fairly typical, if not actually better than that experienced at many other rural police stations, the brief outline above raises some of the issues pertinent to policing in the rural areas. These issues beg the question of what ‘successes’ Captain Zondi, and other police station commissioners in similar or worse situations in the rural areas, can actually be expected to show.

In other words, what, exactly, would constitute successful policing in these areas and how would it be measured?

These, clearly, are the two critical questions that would need to be addressed in any meaningful policy aimed at enhancing policing in the rural areas.

The police in the rural areas

South Africa’s history of racially biased policing is well documented.14 Perhaps the most telling statistic is that used in the white paper on safety and security which notes that, in 1994, "74% of the country’s police stations were situated in the white suburbs or business districts."15 These, of course, were and are predominantly urban.

For much of South Africa’s rural population, policing prior to 1994 was the responsibility of one or another of the former homeland police agencies. Cawthra’s succinct analysis is appropriate here:

"The bantustans were designed as apartheid’s final solution — eventually there would be no more black South Africans, only citizens of ‘independent states’ who would come to white South Africa to sell their labour. It was a fantasy of social engineering that like so many grand experiments with human societies became a nightmare."16

These nominally autonomous police agencies, set up along with military structures when the homelands were established in the mid-1970s and early 1980s, functioned primarily as extensions of the former South African Police (SAP) for controlling political dissent and opposition. Initially set up and managed by white SAP officers, usually senior security branch officers, the homeland police were reliant on the SAP for their budgets, training, equipment, standing orders, forensics and criminal records.

However, in line with the ideology underlying their formation, formal managerial control of these police forces was gradually handed to black SAP members of the appropriate ethnic group. An additional criteria, of course, was that of political reliability — measured usually by the experience of these officers in the SAP’s security branch.17

The rewards for the new command echelon were great. Drawn from an organisation which systematically discriminated against them, the chosen were very quickly promoted up the ranks to positions they could not hope to fill in the SAP. Indeed, such was the speed of these promotions that some, ironically, were opposed by the very SAP officers who were meant to ensure them.18 Nevertheless, these promotions meant that few of the new commanders were actually qualified for their jobs.

The same may be said of the more junior police officers in these agencies. While most received some level of basic training and many received riot and counterinsurgency training by the SAP, it was as late as 1989 that limited in-service training and management capacity-building programmes were provided for the junior, middle and senior management echelons.

By the early 1990s, this dearth of management capacity had resulted in widespread discontent with the poor leadership in the homeland police forces.19

Necessarily aligned to and supportive of the ruling élite in the homelands, the legitimacy of these police agencies was fundamentally affected by the perceived legitimacy, or, in most instances, the thorough illegitimacy, of the homeland administrations. Caught up in the machinations characteristic of homeland politics, these police agencies quickly became embroiled in and associated with the corruption and nepotism so pervasive in the homeland administrations.

As indicated by the findings of the Judge White commission — which was set up by former president Nelson Mandela to review promotions in the homelands in February 1995 — this appears to have reached its nadir in the year immediately before and six months after the May 1994 election. During this period, at least 16 650 employees of the homeland administrations were irregularly promoted or otherwise rewarded.20 Some 7 431 homeland police officers were irregularly promoted during this period. These figures are conservative, however, as in 7 452 cases — 2 393 of which concerned police officers — no finding could be made (because the individual concerned could not be traced or had died, no records could be found or the promotion fell outside the jurisdiction of the commission).21

For the SAPS, the ramifications of these findings for confidence in its new management can only be severe. However, there are encouraging signs that the organisation is taking the matter seriously. On 7 November 1999, the police announced that 500 officers in the Northern Province who had been irregularly promoted by their former homeland agencies and integrated into the SAPS at these inflated ranks, had been demoted.22

For policing in the rural areas, however, this points to a problematic dynamic. The creation of the SAPS as South Africa’s unified police service was conceptualised as a three phase process. First was the technical amalgamation of 11 police agencies — no mean undertaking, given that each had developed their own operating procedures and systems. Second was the rationalisation of the organisational structure and resource allocation — primarily to ensure a more equitable distribution of police resources. Parallel to this was the third phase, the ‘transformation’ of the new SAPS into an effective, representative, responsive and accountable police service.

The former police agencies have long since been amalgamated, but cost and other constraints — like the lack of incentives and the resistance of many police officers — have inhibited the rationalisation and redistribution of the SAPS’s human resources. In practice, these constraints have meant that the original deployment of police personnel, to a large degree, has been maintained. For instance, of the roughly 18 000 police officers in the Eastern Cape, some 10 000 or 55.5% were members of the former homeland police forces.23

It is arguable therefore that, while changes in the nature and style of policing in South Africa have occurred, at least at the policy and symbolic levels, many of the inhabitants of South Africa’s rural areas are being policed much as they used to be. For many in the rural areas, not much about policing has actually changed in the five years since democratisation.

The nature of policing in the rural areas

It is therefore no surprise that almost half of the respondents to the survey (48.2%) expressed their perception that the quality of policing in their areas had not changed at all over the past few years. However, 36.5% of the respondents believed that the service they received from the police had declined. Just 15.3% believed that policing had improved in their areas.

This response, while surely indicative of the lack of change in policing the rural areas, may also be explained by the high rate of victimisation found in the sample population. Given that 56.9% of the respondents indicated that they had been victims of crime, it is highly unlikely that they would believe that the standard of policing had improved.

This high rate of victimisation may also help to explain the respondents’ general lack of confidence in the ability of the police to curb South Africa’s high crime rates. While 33.7% were non-committal, 43.4% of the respondents believed that the police were ineffective in curbing crime in their areas. Just 22.9% of the respondents believed that the police were effectively dealing with crime.

A number of practical factors pertinent to these perceptions are outlined below — factors like the level of visibility of the police, access to the police, the response of the police to reported crime and the level of satisfaction with the service provided by the police.

Visibility

A core element of policing policy in South Africa has been the attempt to shift policing from its prior focus on the management of specific incidents — that is, its reactive focus — towards a more proactive, participatory and preventive approach.24 For the SAPS, generally, this has meant focusing on improving its investigative capacity, particularly its intelligence, detective and other specialised functions, enhancing visible policing and attempting to improve the service provided to victims of crime.

At local police station level, this translates into ‘proactive’ and ‘reactive’ functions. ‘Proactive’ functions are those associated with the uniformed branch: community policing, visible policing and those duties performed in the community service centre (or charge office). ‘Reactive’ functions refer to the detectives. Intelligence functions are meant to inform both. (The uniformed functions have here been deliberately split, as ‘community policing’ at station level is, more often than not, the specific function of a community police officer which revolves around the administrative requirements of the CPF). Thus, the ‘proactive’ functions refer primarily to ensuring visible policing through preventive patrol, directed patrol and the newer sector policing.

The purpose of such policing is two-fold — on the one hand, the presence of police officers, depending on the perceived integrity of the police, may fulfil a public reassurance role. As Altbeker puts it:

"the visible presence of police officers may have an important bearing on the perception of members of the community that the state and justice system are alive and effective. This, in turn, may also have the sociological effect of giving citizens a social identity in which rights and duties play an important part. This process is basically a psychological one; the presence of police officers makes members of the public feel more confident and secure."25

On the other hand, police patrols may deter particular crimes like some opportunistic street and property crimes.

As already indicated, the problem for policing in the rural areas is that resources are sometimes so thinly spread, and the topography so unhelpful, that maintaining a visible police presence is practically impossible.

The reality of this problem is brought into sharp relief by the results of the survey. In response to the question, "How often do you see a police officer on duty in your village (or area)?", respondents were most likely to say that they never saw the police. The table below details this response.

This experience appears to tally with that of operational police officers based in the rural areas. Noting that the greater the isolation from neighbours or neighbouring villages, the greater the reliance on the police, inspector Basi of Donnybrook police station says that these areas are the least accessible. People in these places, he says, are unlikely to see a police officer, "unless the police are there to attend to a complaint or to arrest a suspect."26

Further, it should be noted that, in some localities, complicity in crime or retribution for crimes committed in the locality translates into an open hostility towards the police which mitigates against visible patrol. For instance, the former SAPS head of crime prevention in the Umtata area of the Eastern Cape, director Louw, notes that, in some areas where stock theft and the cycles of revenge associated with it have become entrenched as a way of life, people prefer to "sort things out for themselves and often co-operate with each other against the police ... Many police officers are killed here."27

For safety reasons, patrols in these areas require a minimum of four to six highly armed and trained police personnel, as fewer would only endanger their lives. Thus, patrolling these areas is a task usually allocated to the public order policing units of the SAPS which, supported by members of the army, are deployed in numbers in response to sporadic ‘instability’. Tactically, visible policing becomes a stabilisation or suppressive operation which, when ‘completed’, results in the withdrawal of the troops and the police.

The implications of the very limited and inconsistent police presence in the rural areas are outlined by assistant commissioner Ngidi, who says of proactive policing that:

"This is about restoring confidence in our communities. We need to create the perception in the minds of the people that the police care, and with that, we can help in ensuring a safe environment."28

"How " he asks, "do you do this if you cannot be visible?"

Access

For people living in the rural areas, the limited presence of the police is compounded by a general lack of infrastructure which inhibits access to police services.

For instance, most of the sample population indicated that they lived some distance from their nearest police station. Table 25 below indicates the distances respondents need to travel to reach a police station.

Furthermore, just 64 of the 756 respondents (8.5%) said they had a telephone in their homes, but only 52 (6.9%) could confirm that the telephone worked.

Practically, the limited police presence in the rural areas and the infrastructural constraints mean that most interaction between the police and those whom they serve, occurs at the police station when police assistance is sought.

Mini-bus taxis are the most common means of transport to reach the police as confirmed by 71.3% of respondents. Just 9.9% indicated that they used a bus, which is indicative of the very limited public transport available in the rural areas. Very few respondents (6.3%) said they were able to drive themselves in private transport.

Despite the relative remoteness of police stations in the rural areas, 74.9% of the respondents indicated that they could reach their nearest police station within an hour — which is suggestive perhaps of the ready availability of taxis. The remaining 25.1% of the respondents indicated that it would take between an hour and two hours to reach a police station.

The majority of respondents (73.3%) indicated that it cost between R2 and R5 to reach their nearest police station. A further 9% indicated that it cost between R5—50 and R10. Given that the survey was conducted in those provinces where unemployment is rife and where many of those who are employed earn less than R500 a month, the constraints of these costs should not be underestimated.29

Thus, the relative remoteness of some of the police stations and the lack of telephones and personal transportation mean that, for many in the rural areas, seeking help from the police can sometimes be a long and relatively expensive experience.

Reporting

Despite these constraints, the levels of crime that are actually reported, and especially reported to the police, appear relatively high.

The level of reporting by victims of the four major types of crime is indicated in table 26 below.

It is clear from these statistics that, despite the severe limitations of policing in the rural areas and the negative perceptions regarding their abilities, the police are still viewed by the majority of victims as the primary authorities for dealing with crime. Thus, the disillusionment, cynicism and loss of faith characteristic of many urban areas and indicated there by the spread of vigilante groups and the exponential growth of private security in the wealthier areas, have seemingly not developed to the same extent in South Africa’s rural areas.

Indeed, most victims of crime — for example, 86.7% of the victims of stock theft and 80.6% of burglary — indicated their willingness to assist the police in their investigations. This held true, but to a lesser extent, for victims of violent crimes — 63.4% of the victims of such crimes indicated that they had and would continue to assist the police.

Further, the levels of reporting to the police may actually be higher than revealed in the table above. In some instances, there is dual reporting in that victims first report the crime to the traditional authorities or community structures which, if unable to resolve the matter, would report it to the police. For director Louw, this occurs often, with the exception of domestic violence which, he says, is more often "sorted out in the community."30

It may also be assumed that this dual reporting would be more prevalent in those localities where ‘traditional’ or ‘tribal’ police are operative. These ‘policemen’ — and they are men — would either deal with the complaint at hand, or refer it to the SAPS. Supported by and reporting to the local chief, these policemen often provide an additional source of security and conflict resolution for inhabitants of rural localities.

Almost a third of the respondents (31.9%) lived in areas where traditional police were functional. More respondents (48.1%) were satisfied with the service they received than those who were not (37%), citing respect, responsiveness and problem-solving as the reasons.

Interestingly, the main criticism was the same as that levelled at the SAPS — a limited presence and lack of visibility was referred to by 18.4% of these respondents, while 10.7% of the respondents who were dissatisfied with the service they received from the traditional police cited corruption and patronage as the reasons.

The one crime type which most victims appear to have reported more to authorities other than the police was that of damage to property or vandalism. Of the victims of this crime, 53.6% indicated that they had reported it either to the traditional authorities or to community structures in their area. One explanation for this may be that they believed these authorities or structures were more likely to ensure the desired outcome, in this case restoration — that is, the replacement or repair of the damaged property — and that this was preferred to retribution or the punishment of the perpetrator.

This may also help to explain the relatively high rate of reporting to the police for violent crime. Of the 71% of the victims of violent crime who reported the incident, 84.2% reported it to the police. Here, the need for protection — that is, the desire to see the perpetrator arrested and then removed from the vicinity through imprisonment — may well override the short-term retribution or mediation offered by traditional authorities or community structures.

Community structures may take a variety of forms in rural areas, ranging from civic organisations focused on development issues, small self-employment initiatives, self-policing groups or the more formal CPFs. These CPFs were to be established at all police stations primarily as a means of ensuring greater communication and co-operation between the police and those whom they served. It appears from the responses gained in the survey that the more openly safety-oriented organisations have little profile and less impact. For instance, when asked whether a CPF had been established in their area, most respondents said no. Figure 18 below shows details this response.

Figure 18: Respondent's awareness of community police forums

Thus, it appears as though little actual implementation has occurred since the publication in 1995 of the South African Police Service Act, the 1997 department of safety and security’s Community policing policy and guidelines, or the government’s Rural development framework which noted that, while many CPFs in the urban areas had already become effective in breaking down distrust and ensuring wider participation, "CPFs are not widely established in the rural areas."31

This is indicative of the many problematic issues related to the functioning of CPFs, many of which are amplified in the rural context.32

As inspector Basi put it, "convincing the unemployed and people living in poverty that by participating in the CPFs they would be improving their lives is not an easy task."33

Further, the participatory nature of such structures has often been interpreted as a threat to traditional authority or has resulted in the ‘taking’ of such structures by interest groups with overt political motivations. As the former station commissioner of Tugela Ferry police station observed:

"Our relationship with the amaKhosi was not bad, but once we start initiating CPFs, it became a problem. Initially the amaKhosi claimed they were not consulted, but later it became clear that two chiefs belonging to different political organisations did not want to work together. AmaKhosi do not want to work with anybody and once you involve the ANC they will withdraw from the Forum."34

This is a familiar tune for director Louw in Umtata, who says that, although the SAPS has often tried to clarify issues:

"there is a perception that the CPFs work against the traditional leaders. This has not been helped by the hijacking of some of the CPFs by SANCO [the South African National Civics Organisation] to be used a political platform."35

However, apart from these issues, some police officers have linked the CPFs to raising expectations that they would be unable to meet. As some police officers at Mondlo commented:

"We sometimes lie on our reports and say we go to the CPF meetings while we don’t. What would be the use of going out to the community to hear about their problems and what they want while you know there is nothing you can do about it. We cannot go to the community and lie to them. They need what we cannot deliver. That’s why the CPF is not working."36

Some police officers, though, have seen the potential in their responsibility to establish the CPFs. These officers have often used the CPFs as a tool to lobby for additional resources. Captain Cloete of Bulwer police station in KwaZulu-Natal, for instance, maintains that, while it took him some four years to establish the CPF and the 12 subforums in his station, it was worth it. This is because "now people understand what can and what cannot be done by the police and the CPF has been useful in getting more personnel allocated to the station."37

Others have also guided relations at the CPF to the point were policing is supplemented by residents of the area. As inspector Cira, the station commissioner at Dududu noted:

"Despite all the difficulty we have with the CPFs, we are finding it very useful to work with the community. The little progress we have made, makes me find it useful to share ideas with the public. We need to get closer to the public and some people are trying to get closer to us. Because of the Forums, we solve some of the cases sitting in the office. We get calls from CPF members, telling us not to worry about suspects because they will bring them to the police station."38

Thus, the experience of community participation through the formal structures of the CPFs has been diverse, but it seems clear from the above that few of these structures, even where they have been established and are functioning, have been used to their full potential.

To sum up, despite their reservations concerning the abilities of the police, it is clear that, in the majority of cases, it is to the police that victims of crime in the rural areas turn for assistance.

Those who indicated that they had not reported their victimisation to the police were reserved in providing reasons for this, and few provided details. However, the reasons given by those who were prepared to answer questions related to this varied mainly according to the nature of the incident, the ability to access the police and especially, to perceptions of the ability of the police to deal with it.

For instance, for cases of burglary — which appeared to be the least reported crime — victims who did not report the crime to the police and who provided reasons for this (47 respondents), attributed their response to:

a lack of confidence in the ability of the police to deal with the issue — 42.6%;



the insignificance of the incident in that it was only an attempted crime — 17.0%;



personal reasons (fear of retribution, personal blameworthiness or the desire to apprehend the perpetrators themselves) — 12.8%;



difficulties in accessing a police station — 12.8%;



reporting to traditional authorities — 12.8%; and



in one incident, the victim indicated that the alleged perpetrator had been arrested before the case had been reported.

Similar reasons were noted by the victims of stock theft for whom a lack of confidence in the ability of the police to deal with the matter, a preference for reporting to traditional authorities and access to the police were the major issues. The victims who did not report the matter to the police and who provided reasons for this (37 respondents), attributed their response to:

a lack of confidence in the ability of the police to deal with the issue — 59.4%;



reporting to traditional authorities — 27.0%;



difficulties in accessing a police station — 8.1%;



the insignificance of the incident in that it was only an attempted crime — 2.7%;



personal reasons (fear of retribution, personal blameworthiness or the desire to apprehend the perpetrators themselves) — 2.7%.

However, as expected, the picture differed for cases of violent crime. The sensitivity of victims of this crime, especially their insecurity, fear and their personal relationship with the offender were the major factors inhibiting reporting to the police. Thus, victims of violent crime who did not report the crime to the police and who provided reasons for this (30 respondents), attributed their response to:

personal reasons (fear of retribution, personal blameworthiness, or the perpetrator was either a member of the family or a lover) — 53.3%;



a lack of confidence in the ability of the police to deal with the issue — 23.3%;



difficulties in accessing a police station — 6.7%;



reporting to traditional authorities — 6.7%;



the insignificance of the incident in that it was an attempted crime — 6.6%;



in one incident, the victim indicated that the alleged perpetrator had been arrested before the case had been reported; and



in another, the victim of assault indicated that the alleged offender had been punished in the community.

Thus, while relatively few victims of crime provided details on why they had not reported the matter to the police, the statistics above indicate that, with the exception of violent crime, and particularly sexual assault, a lack of confidence in the abilities of the police appears to be the predominant factor inhibiting reporting.

Unfortunately, the lack of communication and feedback from the police to the victims who report the crimes committed against them may well strengthen these negative perceptions.

Response

Table 27 below outlines the time it took, according to the victims of crime, for the police to reach the scene of the crime they had reported.

It is clear from this table that the police are most likely to respond to the majority of reported crimes within two hours. Given the considerable constraints under which the police function, this response time should be regarded as reasonable, if not adequate.

However, the table also indicates that, in a proportionally large number of cases when victims had reported the crime, they received no response at all. There could be a range of reasons for this, including:

the nature and seriousness of the incident — that is, whether or not the incident required follow-up at the actual scene of the crime;



the successful resolution or mediation of the issue at the police station, which would obviously not require further follow-up; and



simple negligence by the police.

Overall, though, these statistics appear indicative of a practical prioritisation in which the most serious cases are responded to as fast as possible, and the lesser cases either dealt with when time and resource constraints allow it or, alternatively, simply discarded. This appears to be particularly relevant to cases of stock theft and damage to property — in which the police seem most likely to respond within two hours or not at all — and a similar approach seems evident for violent crime and burglary.

What the data does not show, however, is the extent of feedback or informative communication from the police. While there can be little doubt that prioritisation is a necessary requirement for operational effectiveness, there can be less doubt that, if not explained and communicated adequately, such prioritisation will impact negatively on the perceptions of those victims whose cases were not prioritised. After all, the case of each and every victim who reports a crime would be a priority for the victim. This is especially the case when most have to travel for some time and at some expense to report the incident.

Such feedback seems to be particularly difficult for police officers serving in rural stations. This is indicated primarily by the number of victims who expressed dissatisfaction with the service they received from the police and the reasons given for this (see table 28).

As is clear from table 28, the majority of victims of crime who reported the incident to the police were dissatisfied with the service or, in some instances, the complete lack of service provided by the police.

The comparatively few respondents who indicated that they were satisfied with the service they received, cited helpful and professional conduct, the arrest of the (alleged) perpetrators and the return of stolen property as the primary reasons.

However, it is clear from this table that most respondents were dissatisfied with what they perceived to be a lack of investigation and, therefore, a lack of arrests. This is likely to be indicative of two factors: firstly, severe weaknesses in the criminal investigation capacity of the police and, secondly, and just as important, the lack of follow-up, communication or feedback provided by the police.

The weaknesses in the investigative capacity of the police have been attributed to a number of issues, not least of which are severe resource limitations, insufficient training, a changing legal regime, weak management, loss of skills and morale and, particularly, increasing caseloads.39

A monthly report from Bulwer police station in KwaZulu-Natal provides a brief picture of the impact of some of these issues.40 Captain Cloete, the station commissioner of Bulwer, together with his staff of 32 police officers are responsible for policing 250 000 people located in 76 settlements of various sizes spread over 876 square kilometres. Eight members of his staff are student constables, deployed there as a result of lobbying by the captain and the CPF and because the station was identified as one that would pilot the SAPS’s new management methodology, called the service delivery improvement plan. There are six detectives — all trained — who report to captain Cloete who preferred it when they reported to a head of detectives, as "with little time, they are difficult to control."41

Indeed, control seems to be a major issue at the station as, in April 1999, absenteeism ran at an average of 11% across the three shifts and in October, there were eight staff members (25%) who faced disciplinary investigation related to absenteeism and other negligence.

The station’s priority focus areas, for crimes reported at the station, are housebreaking, stock theft, assault with intent and murder. However, captain Cloete also focuses on crimes like rape and domestic violence which are not often reported, "because they are committed within the family, by uncles and stepfathers", and illegal possession of firearms, because "who would want to report that?"42

The station has three holding cells, built to accommodate 27 suspects. In April 1999, these cells held 71 men, either charged or being investigated on charges of armed robbery, carjacking, assault with intent and illegal immigration. Women and juvenile suspects were being transferred elsewhere.

Regarding investigations at Bulwer, in April 1999:

A total of 162 new dockets were opened, and were divided among the six detectives — 27 dockets each. There were 478 ‘old’ dockets in hand.



Some 35 people were arrested on various charges during the month.



A total of 44 dockets were closed — seven in court and 37 by the detectives.



The seven dockets closed in court were part of 150 cases taken to court in that month: in two cases, charges against the accused were withdrawn; in three cases, the accused were acquitted; and in two cases, the accused were convicted. The remaining 143 cases taken to court were postponed.



The conviction rate in terms of dockets closed was therefore 4.5%.

As Bulwer is one of the more resourced rural police stations, the situation there may be assumed to be better than that at many other stations. There can be little surprise then, at the general dissatisfaction of many victims of crime to the service they receive, particularly with regard to successful investigation — the sheer volume of cases, and related to this, the problematic resource and management issues all mitigate against satisfactory service.

Nevertheless, some of the dissatisfaction can also be attributed to factors beyond the control of the police. Most obviously, the fact that there has not been an arrest in a particular case does not necessarily mean that there has been no investigation. Indeed, there may have been a thorough investigation, but due to a lack of witnesses, or those willing to give evidence, or a lack of other concrete evidence, the investigation remains inconclusive.

Further, the fact that some suspects are arrested and later released, is not necessarily the fault of the police — for instance, a suspect who has been identified by a victim may have a strong and supported alibi. In other instances, where the case goes to court, the court may often postpone the case, grant bail and release the accused.

Thus, for perceptions of police competence, informative communication or feedback on the process and progress of a reported case is crucial.

Implications for policing

In summary, the discussion above raises six main issues relevant to the improvement of policing in the rural areas.

Most obviously, it is clear that, without sufficient and adequate basic resources — which means both trained police personnel and the appropriate physical resources required to fulfil their functions — policing and public perceptions of its adequacy cannot be expected to improve. Indeed, without an infusion of such resources it is likely that the quality of policing and public perceptions will decline further as, continually frustrated by the lack of the basic resources required to provide an adequate service, police morale and discipline continue to decline.



Given the size, geographic isolation and dispersion of many of South Africa’s rural areas, it is unlikely that a police strategy based on a consistent visible police presence, or community policing as it is now practiced by the SAPS, can be sustained to the point where it succeeds in curbing crime — even those crimes which can be combated effectively through visible policing in an urban environment — or in enhancing public confidence. Simply put, there can be little point in pursuing a strategy which is incompatible with the conditions in which it is to be implemented. Clearly, the approach of the SAPS to proactive policing in these areas requires review.



Thus, if policing in the deep rural areas, for practical reasons, can really only be reactive in nature, then the ‘proactive’ functions of the SAPS should be structured in the form of support to upgrade the detective and investigative capacities of the rural police stations and the specialised units that operate in the vicinity. This means that, rather than being seen as a separate, generalist activity, proactive functions at these police stations should focus on enhancing information and intelligence gathering to support the detective functions and guide the operational deployment of station personnel and specialised units. This should be done together with substantial upgrades to the information and intelligence assessment and analysis systems at these stations.



This implies an improved and focused training programme for police personnel who are to be deployed in the rural areas. Such a training programme would need to focus on the basic requirements for those who lack them — like literacy, driving skills and basic police training — as well as more advanced information and evidence gathering techniques.



However, there would be little point in improving the training and abilities of these officers if the current and often justified reluctance to work in these areas is not overcome. This implies an incentive scheme in which periods of service in the deep rural areas could be rewarded. Such a scheme could take a number of forms in terms of both direct benefits — like improved career opportunities or an increased remuneration and pension package — or indirect benefits like bursaries for children in school.



Finally, these issues imply rethinking the current approach to performance assessment of police in the rural areas. Given the issues raised in the discussion above, how plausible is it to measure police performance here in terms of increasing or decreasing crime rates as is done by the SAPS’s senior management structures? Given the motivation above for enhancing the reactive functions of the police in the rural areas, perhaps a more appropriate measure would be one aimed at assessing and improving the ratio of arrests to the incidence of priority crimes as reported by victims or detected by the police. In addition, this could be coupled with additional measures aimed at assessing and improving the ratio of these arrests to successful prosecution and the conviction of offenders. Added to docket analysis and public perception surveys, these performance measures are more likely to be indicative of actual police performance than the collation of statistics on crime rates.

Notes

KwaZulu-Natal department of safety and security, Annual report, Department of safety and security, Durban, 1998.



Department of safety and security, In service of safety: White paper on safety and security, 1999-2004, Department of safety and security, Pretoria, 1998, p ii.



Interview with captain Zulu, former station commissioner, Tugela Ferry, 22 May 1998.



Interview with captain Zondi, Tugela Ferry, 22 October 1999.



Interview with commissioner Ngidi and director Naidoo, Durban, 20 October 1999.



The Citizen, 17 February 2000.



Ibid.



Interview with captain Zondi, Tugela Ferry, 22 October 1999.



Interview with captain Zulu, Tugela Ferry, 22 May 1998.



Interview with captain Zondi, Tugela Ferry, 22 October 1999.



Ibid.



Ibid..



Ibid.



See for, example, M Brogden & C Shearing, Policing for a new South Africa, Routledge, London, 1993; G Cawthra, South Africa’s police: From police state to democratic policing?, Catholic Institute for International Relations, London, 1992; G Cawthra, Policing South Africa, Zed Books, London, 1993; E Marais, Policing the periphery: Police and society in South Africa’s ‘homelands’, paper presented to the 22nd congress of the Association for Sociology in South Africa, Pretoria, 30 June 1992; C Plasket, Sub-contracting the dirty work, in TWBennet, DJDevine,DB Hutchinson, I Leeman & D van Zyl Smit, Policing and the law, Juta, Cape Town, 1989.



In service of safety, op cit, p 4.



Cawthra, 1993, op cit, p 63.



See ibid; Marais, op cit.



See Marais, ibid.



Cawthra (which one 92/93??); Marais, op cit.



Final report of the Judge White commission to review promotions of employees of the former states (including the RSA) which now constitute the Republic of South Africa, November 1998.



Ibid.



Business Day, 8 December 1999.



Interview with Piet Biesheuvel, DFID Eastern Cape policing advisor, Queenstown, 26 October 1999.



See, for example, the Interim constitution, the 1996 South African Police Service Act, and In service of safety, op cit



A Altbeker, Solving crime: The state of the SAPS detective service, ISS Monograph 31, Institute for Security Studies, Halfway House, November 1998.



Interview with station commissioner, Donnybrook, 26 May 1998.



Interview, Umtata, 27 October 1999.



Interview, Durban, 20 October 1999.



See table 1 in the introduction.



Interview, Umtata, 27 October 1999.



Rural development task team, department of land affairs, Rural development framework, May 1997, p 47.



For a more detailed discussion on the origin and functioning of CPFs, see E Pelser, The challenges of community policing in South Africa, ISS Paper 42, Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria, 1999.



Interview with station commissioner, Donnybrook, 26 May 1998.



Interview with captain Zulu, Tugela Ferry, 22 May 1998.



Interview, Umtata, 27 October 1999.



Interview, Mondlo police station, 21 May 1998.



Interview, Bulwer, 21 October 1999.



Interview, Dududu, 27 May 1998.



These issues are elaborated on at some depth in Albeker, op cit.



Bulwer police station, Monthly report: SDIP, April 1999.



Interview, Bulwer, 21 October 1999



Ibid.