The Zuma era in ANC history: New crisis or new beginning?

The inauguration of the Jacob Zuma government was met with considerable popular approval and initially generated a great deal of euphoria, hope and encouragement, (as well as dread and contempt on the other hand). While this paper attempts to move behind these emotions to the character of the phenomenon, I have no contempt towards the outpouring of joy and hope invested in what is claimed to be a new beginning, albeit not always for the same reasons.

It is not easy to explain the joy that appears to have been evoked. At the same time, having said that, much of the discourse within the African National Congress (ANC) -led alliance and what is said to be at issue in the rise of Zuma and at the level of much of the leadership is the relationship between the masses and leadership, a question on which the new president is said to be quite different from former president Thabo Mbeki. This is not an easy issue on which to pronounce. I write with full consciousness that there is a body of thinking that equates the masses with an ignorant mob who spell danger to democracy.

I am with Raymond Williams (1983: 298) in rejecting that view and one of the points where I disagree with all the forms of governance after 1994, is that they were not mass driven as the Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP), the ANC’s initial blueprint for transformation intended, and the people were mainly passive recipients of government delivery.

But there is a caveat and a problem in the relationship between mass driven democracy and government and state leadership and institutions of our democracy. Sometimes the Constitutional Court and political leaders have to give a lead in interpretation of the law and constitution and rights, even where if a poll were taken, for example, on the death penalty, it might be that it would be lost. But seen in the context of the constitution as a whole these must be defended, and part of leadership is to drive the democratic and transformatory project, if it is that. That must include using political leadership as a way of raising consciousness of those who are not fully conversant with the emancipatory nature of certain elements of the constitution. This is not restricted to the death penalty, but also gender, identity and other questions. This is not patronising but a fact of life, that some are not always aware of the implications until these are explained, through strong, clear leadership.

I am in agreement with Williams, that the masses are not an ignorant mob, but believe that we need to be aware that there are various levels of information that guide any action and that the current mass support, may change — not as the wind blows — but for reasons that are in the main based on rational and sometimes irrational factors, that may be temporary or of greater or lesser duration and whatever information is at their disposal. Already some of the original ardour is being displaced by anger in strikes and protests over service delivery, often met by what appears to be excessive force (Benjamin 2009). It may be that the often loosely used concept of populism will provide clues, possibly in conjunction with Bonapartism, to the understanding of this set of relationships (see, for example, Marx 1934; Laclau 1977; Gellner & Ionescu 1969; Taggart 2002). At the same time the series of high wage rises (though not high in relation to costs of living), are causing anxiety to capital.

Thus my support for popular power has a degree of conditionality and is as much a problem to be solved as it is a goal. Nowhere in the world has there been a successful combination of mass and representative democracy. The formula for their interaction has still to be worked out, though writers like Arblaster believe that such structures for popular involvement are already there with new modes of communication in the twenty-first century (Arblaster 2002: ch.8).

The rest of this paper contextualises the rise of Jacob Zuma within ANC history, attempting to characterise the extent to which the Zuma – led ANC and government represents a rupture and continuity in the recent and overall history of the organisation, mode of its leadership and the democratic dispensation inaugurated in 1994. To what extent is it Zuma or unfinished business of ANC history with which we are concerned? To what extent has the ANC itself made the elements of Zuma leadership which many find offensive or to what degree are they outcomes that were part of a range of ones that could potentially have emanated from ANC history and patterns of organisation? What is the chain of causality?

Brief overview of recent history

The ANC was established as the South African Native National Congress (SANNC) in 1912 and although its history has been varied, a constant theme, which was periodically marred by splits and expulsions, has been the need for unity. Much of the argument in this paper and what I intend to develop relates to unity and its relationship to opposition, pluralism, constitutionalism, essentialism and other factors, though much is only alluded to and not attempted to finalise in argument in the present paper. On the eve of founding the organisation, Pixley ka Isaka Seme, in a famous statement spoke of the need to draw lessons from the inter-chiefdom /kingdom divisions that had led to the conquest of the African people and said there should be unity. ‘We are one!’ (Seme 1972[1911]: 71-3). He also spoke of the SANNC as a ‘native union’ of the African people, carrying, though he did not say so, revolutionary potentionalities as a counter union to the white Union of South Africa (Jordan 1988: 107-24).

This theme of unity continued to be on the lips of the most famous ANC leaders. While this was preceded and followed by minor splits or expulsions, there was a major breach in this unity with the Pan-Africanist Congress (PAC) breakaway in 1959 due to ideological disagreements mainly over certain clauses of the Freedom Charter and the role of whites and alleged Communist domination.[1] The expulsion of the ‘Gang of 8’ in 1975 was also for ideological reasons, as was that of the Marxist Workers Tendency in the 1980s. Most or all of these people were allowed re-admission to the ANC after it’s unbanning in 1990, thus signifying the principle that it is better to have the differences within the organisation than outside, as enemies.

In the years following the establishment of the ANC it pursued a policy of petitioning the British Empire and the Union governments, a strategy that was an adaptation to the new conditions that the organisation found itself in, with the defeat of armed resistance. Over time, this approach proved fruitless and led to decline in the organisation and its being overshadowed by other political and workers organisations. I am not thereby seeking to criticise the early approach, without qualification, and the work of Peter Limb (2002) in particular shows that it was more complex than going ‘cap in hand to the masters’. It was however revived from the 1940s, first through the efforts of individuals like Dr A.B. Xuma as president and Rev (later Canon) James Calata as secretary-general (Walshe 1970: 256). The establishment of the ANC Youth League (ANCYL) in 1944 could build on the organisational structures that Xuma and Calata had started. Without this their statements may have remained radical rhetoric.

The 1950s, following the adoption of the YL’s programme of action saw the development of mass and radical programmes and organisational steps. The 1952 Defiance campaign represented an embryonic rejection of legal obligation and allegiance to the apartheid state. The ‘M Plan’ was preparation for potential banning which was adopted following the illegality of the Communist Party. That party re-established itself as the South African Communist Party (SACP) in 1953 and possibly earlier if we were in possession of more data on political activities in the rural areas (Suttner 2008: ch.2-3).

The Defiance campaign, initiated shortly after Chief Albert Luthuli entered politics and was dismissed as a chief, represented a break in the chain of legality that had characterised previous ANC politics. It saw the ANC membership rise from 7000 to 100,000 paid up members (Karis and Carter 1973: 427; Bensonn 1985, 150). The defiers were led by volunteers, swearing an oath and wearing a special uniform. The uniform may have carried symbolic military connotations thus echoing talk that was current about ‘fighting back’ and taking up arms. At the same time, the cap that was worn derives from Gandhi and thousands of years of Indian peasant history (Suttner 2009a: 61).

Sisulu indicated that they specifically chose the word ‘defiance’ rather than ‘passive resistance’ used in the 1946-1948 Indian anti-pass campaigns, to raise the level of struggle, even to a revolutionary level, where people would be prepared to give their lives. That is why the volunteers were called ‘defiers of death’ (Sisulu 2001: 79).

What Luthuli brought to the fore, along with the youth leaders already mentioned, was the ethical canon that distinguished the best of the ANC. He represented the notion of a leader who sought nothing for him or herself, who was prepared to lose all, and prayed that he would resist any temptation not to do what was his moral duty to his people (Suttner 2009c). Many cadres were very learned in political theory, but they were not prepared when it came to putting their life on the line. Luthuli was very clear on the nature of his beliefs, but more importantly, he prepared himself for a road of hardship and ultimate ‘mysterious’ death.[2] This is what he called ‘the gospel of service’, that people had to understand ‘no cross, no crown’ (Reddy 1991: 71), though the notion of the crown carried some ambiguity.[3] Whatever he advised others to do, he was prepared to do himself (Benson 1985: 144-5), in this respect echoing Gandhi and foreshadowing Mandela (Chatterjee 2007: ch.4; Mandela 1994: 360).

The Defiance Campaign was followed by the Congress of the People campaign which gathered popular demands and out of which the Freedom Charter emerged, which would serve as guidelines for a future democratic state. Unlike other human rights documents in the ANC, like the African claims of 1945 (see Asmal, et. al. 2005), and seldom if ever in international history has a document, whatever its flaws, derived from the actual voices of the ordinary people (Suttner and Cronin 2006).

The proceedings of the Congress of the People at Kliptown were halted just after the point of adoption, and the Charter was used as a basis for prosecution in the Treason Trial, involving between 30 and 156 of the top leadership for 5 years. While this was a blow to organisation it provided opportunities for meetings and friendships to develop, one of the most noteworthy being that between Luthuli and Moses Kotane, General Secretary of the SACP, who became Luthuli’s closest adviser and confidant (Bunting 1998: ch.14; Magubane, et.al. 2004: 65).

Before the Treason Trial acquittal, the Sharpeville massacre occurred in 1960, followed by the banning of the ANC and PAC, and the detention of many leaders under the state of emergency. Of great symbolic importance at this time were photographs of Luthuli, Mandela and Sisulu setting their passes alight. People still speak today of how these images stirred them.[4]

This is an example of the Gandhian principle that the type of leadership of the time would set the example for their followers by being the first to take daring action, which others were urged to follow. (This is not to suggest that being in the frontline is invariably the best way to lead).

The 1950s began and ended with defiance, ultimately with banning of the ANC and its stating it would not abide by that decree (Suttner 2008: ch.2). The notion of defiance, even in its earlier form in the Defiance campaign crossed a threshold, in that from that moment the ANC implicitly denied any duty owed to the authority of the day. That denial would increase in intensity after banning, and led to the later declaration of apartheid as a crime against humanity, and the ejection of the South African government from the UN General Assembly for not being representative of the people of South Africa (Suttner 1984). While Luthuli refers to the actions of the 1950s as non-revolutionary (Reddy 1991: 46-50), revolution may mean a single decisive act or a series of embryonic acts of a transformatory or rebellious kind, such as the Defiance campaign. The counterposition of evolution and revolution is one of the problems in much of the thinking of Leninists and those, including the ANC pursing a ‘decisive moment’ notion of national liberation (Hunt 1980; Kagarlitsky 1990; Lennin 1969[1918]).

The ANC underground experience, preceded by the SACP reconstitution in 1953, relied heavily on the experience of the latter, but it was difficult to take a mass organisation underground and its military efforts while dramatic were brought to a swift halt by the middle of the 1960s, with all of the top leadership in prison or exile. Bram Fischer lasted somewhat longer, but he was operating in virtual isolation and without much logistical support (see Meredith 2002; Clingman 1998). The Rivonia trial of 1964 again saw the spirit of denial of the legal right of the South African government to make laws, with all the prisoners declaring that ‘the government not they should be in the dock’ (Joffe 1995: 58-9). Later Mandela made his famous statement that he was willing to live but if necessary to die to realise the ideals of the liberation movement (Mandela 1990: 181; on preparedness for death, see Mandela 1994: 360).

Between Rivonia and 1976

With the leadership in prison and some, such as Oliver Tambo and Yusuf Dadoo having been sent out earlier in order to start the international solidarity campaign, history books record that a ‘lull’ reigned over South African politics, for the ANC was declared dead.[5] Inkatha (with initial qualified support from the ANC) used the opening to claim to be the heir to the ANC. This also created space for the fresh and defiant strands of black consciousness (BC) to emerge.

In fact, it is not true that the ANC ceased to exist, and underground structures were re-constituted by a number of groupings. They started on a small scale, but gradually developed the capacity to help families of those in jail or detention, to send out individuals for training and receive MK (mKhonto we Sizwe, Spear of the Nation, the name of the ANC army) cadres who returned. It was slow, patient work, too slow for some of the emerging BC movement, many of whom entered into dialogue with the underground and later came to appreciate the need for this careful, painstaking building of the organisation (Suttner 2008: ch.4).

At the same time those who had left for training in the early years of MK had expected to return within a few months but found that it stretched into decades.[6] This fed into problems of morale and discipline and while campaigns into then Rhodesia had more success than South African newspapers reported (Karis and Gerhart 1997: 29), they led to divisions, including complaints about the life style of the leadership, over-emphasis on international solidarity, and neglect of armed struggle and the need to return to South Africa. One of the symptoms of this sentiment was the ‘Hani memorandum’, which nearly led to Chris Hani’s execution (Shubin 2008: ch.6).

To attempt to heal these divisions and chart a way forward, a consultative conference was held in Morogoro in Tanzania in 1969. The conference emerged with a strategy and tactics document, which would have a significant effect for generations to come (ANC 1969).

This document, which may fall into the category of Gramsci’s reference to a party acting as an intellectual or ‘collective intellectual’ (Gramsci 1971: ch.1; Suttner 2005) was an intervention which drew many people to the ANC and gave those already there a feeling that the apartheid regime was not invincible; this was part of the overall sense that there was both power and weaknesses in the make-up of the ‘enemy’ and its opponents. These had both to be exploited in a way that strengthened the resistance and weakened the regime.

The period that followed saw some limited attempts at realising these overall goals, some with a measure of success, others representing attempts but without much success.

The 1976 uprising was not initiated by the ANC. But many BC individuals and leaders had contact with key ANC underground figures, on a strictly secret, conspiratorial basis. Many listened to Radio Freedom, the ANC illegal broadcasting station. Many were impatient to leave BC, but they were counselled to stay where they were by older people, such as Joe Gqabi.[7]
Many left the country in the wake of the repression that accompanied and followed the uprising. The huge influx of new, young and optimistic people into the ANC and MK gave a spurt to those whose morale had been flagging and in the late 1970s led to a wave of MK attacks, including assaults on police stations that had participated in forced removals or were notorious in communities for their violence (Suttner 2008: chs.4&8).

The rise of PW Botha to prime minister and later the presidency, together with Niel Barnard as new head of intelligence, led to an attempt by the regime to ‘normalise’ the situation, but without intending to lose control (Sanders 2006). The lesson drawn from Rhodesia by the apartheid intelligence forces was that if the government did not open up it would lose everything. They should instead create some space which they assumed they would control, and contain and accommodate political manifestations on their own terms. Unfortunately for them, that was not to be.

A wide range of popular organisations emerged — including trade unions, community organisations and media — drawing thousands of people into activities on the fringes between legality and illegality, The Freedom Charter was revived and individuals were often buried under the ANC flag, such as, Hennie Ferrus in Worcester (Issel 2003). In the 1980s this process continued with the formation of the United Democratic Front (UDF) in 1983, an organisation which was both autonomous of and linked in various ways to the ANC and the underground. The formation of a powerful, unified trade union federation, the Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU) in 1985 changed the quality of labour intervention. In combination, these provided a more concerted and direct challenge to the regime.

In the meantime, on the international front, from the earliest beginnings of Tambo’s work, the international solidarity movement was making strides as the biggest international social movement in history, changing the notion of international relations, which is conventionally supposed to be between states, by entering as a non-state actor. All over the world, South African apartheid products were boycotted, the regime was isolated, trade sanctions were sometimes applied, UN resolutions proliferated, and the ANC had more international representatives than the South African government.

MK grew in strength and the range of its activities, but there was a gap between popular imagination, which saw it as capable of defeating the apartheid regime in battle, and attacks that were of great symbolic significance, such as the blowing up of the SASOL refinery in 1980. MK training from the 1970s had been inside[8] as well as primarily outside the country.

Towards negotiations

It became clear that the rising of the mid-1980s, which the ANC and SACP officially intended to turn into an insurrection, was making apartheid unworkable and South Africa ungovernable. This was urged daily by the ANC through Radio Freedom and SACP publications like Umsebenzi (The Worker). At the same time, also at the urging of the exiled leadership, organs of popular power were established in a range of forms, though local creativity surpassed what may have been envisaged. They founded street committees, and other local structures and — in a sense — were the first example of popular, direct democracy in South Africa (ANC 1985 & 1986; Neocosmos 1998; Suttner 2004b & 2005).

It seemed apparent that governability was unlikely to be re-established. At the same time, this did not mean that the power of resistance was able to defeat the enemy on the battlefield. Many of the internal leadership were taken out of action by the arrest of over 50 000 during the states of emergency in 1985/6 and 1986-1989. This had the unfortunate effect of leaving younger people, and often gangsters, in the street committees, which led to various abuses, such as kangaroo courts.

In the meantime, Radio Freedom continued to call for insurrection and the SACP (1989) conference, held in Cuba in 1989, mapped out and elaborated a strategy for its achievement. This conference was chaired by Thabo Mbeki and included delegates from inside the country. It had been preceded by inputs from inside, co-ordinated by Mac Maharaj, at the time still a member of the SACP and in his capacity as leader of Operation Vula.

Maharaj, reporting to Oliver Tambo and Joe Slovo, in their capacity as leaders of the ANC and SACP respectively, aimed to join the external and internal leadership; some individuals from outside worked underground for over four years.[9] The boldness of this venture was such that the ANC’s (much prized amongst activists) January 8 anniversary statement appeared on doorsteps in 1989, next to the morning’s newspaper.

Nelson Mandela liked to remind cadres that the ANC was not facing an enemy on its knees.[10] When neither side is able to defeat the other, there exists what Gramsci (1971: 238-9) calls a ‘reciprocal siege’ and that creates the possibility of talks and negotiations that may lead to a democratic settlement.

At the time, unknown to most individuals inside, and arousing some suspicion among those who knew or sensed it outside, talks with the government had begun, inside the country by Nelson Mandela (1994; Sparks 1997; Waldmeir 1997) and outside by Thabo Mbeki and Jacob Zuma, meeting with apartheid intelligence officials (Sanders 2006: 227ff).

There are some procedural necessities in initiating talks that lead to negotiations. One cannot start such a process by public announcement if one wants to succeed. It is often a condition of success that much happens in camera, at least initially. Nevertheless Mandela has always said that he had initiated talks without consultation because he knew that had he consulted he would have been stopped. This is an important statement, which may be vindicated in retrospect by a relatively successful result in achieving a democratic constitution. But it raises questions about collective leadership (a concept, which of course needs itself to be problematised), which would reappear from time to time.[11] Allister Sparks captures Mandela’s alleged ‘aristocratic qualities’, in a discussion of Mandela’s attitude to what he perceived as the necessity to take advantage of what he saw as differences within the government:

Mandela knew that the vast majority of ANC members, and even most of the leadership would not understand this. They saw no need to offer the Boers an honourable retreat.[12][ ] He told no one: not his colleagues upstairs [in Pollsmoor prison at the time] nor those in Lusaka (with whom he was able to communicate by clandestine methods). For though he pays passionate lip service to democracy- and always tries to ensure the broadest possible support for all he does-he is by nature an autocrat. This was one case where autocracy was the best policy.

Mandela did not let his colleagues know that he was talking to the enemy until nearly two years later. By then, although no one could have known it at the time, the outlines of the future deal were already becoming clear. (Sparks 1997: 94)

Equally, while the talks in Europe were apparently initiated with Oliver Tambo’s approval, Chris Hani and others raised objections to the lack of report-backs (Shubin 2008: 255). There was an element of deception in a situation where an insurrectionary platform for the SACP was being initiated, with Mbeki as chair, and Zuma and other participants like Aziz Pahad (later deputy foreign minister for both Mandela and Mbeki) as Central Committee members agreeing, while parallel processes were in motion to avert this.

The question of mandate is important. Discussions with National Intelligence Service (NIS) operatives of the apartheid regime indicate that they sometimes felt that their political principals did not know various things (which NIS had learnt) and admitted having on occasion exceeded what they were authorised to do. Not having had discussions on this with ANC negotiators of that time, it cannot be gauged with certainty, how they saw things, and whether they acted in similar fashion.[13]

For those who were throwing themselves in the face of armoured vehicles and gunfire and being tortured, the news of talks smacked of an element of cynicism and left much bitterness after 1990. The ANC, in fact, handled the transition badly, with insufficient sensitivity towards those inside as well as MK in particular, many of the latter and their supporters (mistakenly) believing that if they had been left to fight they could have achieved military victory.[14] This was exacerbated by further concessions, at leadership level.

That the possibility of a negotiated settlement had been reached is wrongly attributed to the foresight of two great men, de Klerk and Mandela. Great as Mandela may be, the range of forces arrayed against apartheid compelled the apartheid regime to concede the unbanning of organisations, although they did so on an unequal basis, aiming to ensure that the ANC was disabled by violent attacks, which is reported on by various commissions and films of the 1990s (Sparks 1997: e.g., 171; Waldmeir 1997: 206; Gordin 2008: e.g., 51, 58).

It was this combination of factors acting against apartheid that enabled the ANC to start talks and win elections in 1994. Chief Luthuli in 1951, when Natal President of the ANC referred to the slogan of the year being ‘speak from strength’, meaning being backed by well organised structures (Pillay 1993: 41). The truth is that Mandela, beyond his great skills, was able to speak with power behind him. The notion of organised strength needs to be in the forefront of any discussion of popular democratic rule, if that is the proclaimed goal or that to which there is an aspiration. Crowds in a stadium comprise mobilisation, enduring structures means organisation.

Rebuilding the ANC and negotiations

Put briefly, the process of legalisation created a mammoth task for the ANC. It could not simply pick up from 1960 and draw in new members on the same basis. It had to rethink its approach, as members flooded in, many knowing little about the organisation, speaking different languages, and without adequate organisational and political education structures in place. Meetings were very complicated to conduct and it was hard to ensure adequate participation and translation into all the languages that were spoken in an area like Gauteng.

It was one thing — during Apartheid — inducting new members who would undertake illegal tasks and were generally steeled to face danger and torture. It was quite another with thousands who had merely to pay R12, and could not be screened. There was no way of stopping money makers, former torturers (where unknown) and similar people from joining the organisation.[15]

While serious efforts were made to (re)build the organisation — with some success — this is merely to indicate the scale of the problem; when the conditions were totally new. The international conjuncture had also changed with the gradual collapse of the Communist Party states, headed by the USSR, on whose support the ANC had counted. The economic elements of this collapse had to be factored into any notion of what could be done in the future transformation and how that could be achieved.

Negotiations

The year 1990 ushered in a period when the ANC was rebuilt under completely different conditions from any that it had previously experienced. At the same time it brought together individuals from a range of political traditions — exiled civilians and bureaucrats, MK, underground, popular democratic, and the neglected category of freelance supporters and actors in illegal activities in advancing the aims of the ANC, as they saw it.[16] All of these forms of struggle or involvement in the ANC carried varying modes of operation, more or less democratic or hierarchical, conspiratorial or open, including patronage networks of various types or highly ideological or other forms of connecting individuals to one another.

Binding these traditions together was difficult, and the early trends of ANC leadership after 1990 set a pattern which tended to cast the membership — and the masses generally — as a reserve army to be called on where necessary, to be informed of victories, which they should applaud or into which they would make limited input.

This is not a tradition derived purely from exile, as is sometimes suggested, for it was found in various ways on the Island and in some sections of the UDF.[17] The membership and supporters cannot be involved in every element of organisational activity. The question essentially was whether there was any conscious attempt to ensure mass-centred and driven activities. The answer, I believe, is that this combination of the popular and representative democratic activity is always difficult, but that it met with resistance at the top, from the time of Mandela’s presidency and more so under Mbeki/Zuma leadership.

The announcement of negotiations was not well managed in consequence of the earlier emphasis on insurrection, just as the leadership’s suspension of armed action in September 1990 left many of the ANC membership angry and excluded. Had these decisions been carefully explained or involved the cadres, they would not necessarily have left pockets of dissatisfaction.

The entire period of negotiations saw a leadership-driven process where the membership was only called on from time to time when it was necessary to break deadlocks. They would be used as a battering ram to break the resolve of the National Party –apartheid regime.

Elections: new conjuncture

When elections were announced, yet another change of conjuncture set in with the establishment of the ANC as government and the downgrading of the importance of the ANC as an organisation. Crucial policy developments such as the adoption of the Growth Economic and Redistribution policy (GEAR), were not passed through ANC constitutional structures but simply announced in a manner that made these both government and ANC policies, referred to by both Mandela and Finance Minister, Trevor Manuel as ‘non negotiable’ (CDE 1997).

It is important to dwell on this, that whatever the centralised nature of the Mbeki period, much of the foundations had been laid by Mandela. Mandela may be one of the greatest figures in history. Considered in the context of internal organisational democracy he would certainly counsel cadres to abide by the collective. But his own example in the early days, in a different form in early negotiations and his presidency constantly demonstrated the practice of or asserted his right to override constitutional decisions of the organisation. There is no doubt that Mandela had the prestige to see himself through such situations in a way that Mbeki could not. Mbeki was seen as a mortal with many flaws. The flaws of Mandela were interpreted as virtues insofar as many of the decisions, displacing the organisation or not, had an element of farsighted leadership, where he saw the need to compromise or talk where others did not and did not wait for those to whom he was theoretically accountable.[18] What I am pointing to is that the Mandela leadership which is feted in history books was nevertheless built in a manner that was problematic, in the context of the notions of leadership commended to ANC cadres. These were concealed by the results which were often victories or qualified victories. But the same practice when attempted by others or versions of these, could not work without creating a sense of deep dissatisfaction.

As indicated, above, collectivism cannot be absolutised and it may be that in studying or being in a revolutionary organisation, there are contexts that have not been adequately considered in evaluating the applicability of the notion. This debate requires more consideration than can be given now, beyond noting the impact that collective leadership has on the understanding and often conscience of the individual cadre (see Suttner 2008: ch.7).

In the 1990s the UDF period of popular involvement in political activity remained fresh in people’s minds but they were to be quickly disabused of any notion that they would play a significant part in government. The notion of serious discussion of people-driven policies and development has never been considered theoretically and practically and the recent elections of 2009 involved contestation over government delivery and is now depicted by the Zuma-led government as prepared for meeting that need –not by mass involvement (though aspects of popular involvement may be envisaged), but primarily by restructuring of ministries, visits to examine delivery and other versions of that orientation.

The ANC as an organisation became insignificant as a driver of policies from the moment of taking office in 1994.[19] Insofar as its conferences decided on particular issues, whether or not they were implemented depended on the individual ministers. In both the Mandela and especially Mbeki/Zuma period (1999-2005), individuals were appointed as ministers and deputies who had little merit or were so lacking in merit in certain cases as to evoke ridicule. In some or most cases the persons were competent and developed in doing the work, but there was a sense that many others outside of Mbeki’s circle could have done the job equally well. There was a perception that Mbeki operated with a tight circle of followers and the only outsiders were those who were in no sense personally threatening. This was a paradox for someone who is undoubtedly intellectually powerful.

Because of the incompetence of many of those appointed, the president or when Deputy President, Mbeki, was stretched in order to ensure that those who did not perform could have their non-performance contained, and his ‘ideological legacy’ was maintained through a range of in-depth speeches written almost entirely by him, and a weekly letter on the ANC website. One of the Ministers close to him asked me, ‘does anyone read this?’

The ANC had never developed a clear, democratic system for running a civil service in a transformatory society. Consequently the centralised leadership was replicated in a more extreme form in the steep hierarchies of the civil service, particularly the security sector, where those at the bottom tended to feel they had to wait for the DG (Director General) to pronounce on anything before they could act; the information and ideas flow from the bottom was consequently constrained, and, in the security sector, practically excluded. There is little discussion to this day about democratisation. The overall attitude in the civil service remains that everything should wait for the DG or other higher officials whose pronouncements are beyond discussion, whose tardiness in making decisions may hold up others below them or interacting with government from a sector outside government.

In this context, the SACP and COSATU initially still vibrant and full of interesting ideas and people, were pushed to the sidelines, and, as they said, treated like ‘small boys’.[20] It was common in the Mbeki/Zuma leadership for tripartite alliance meetings to be called and for these to be cancelled just as some were about to travel from other parts of the country to attend.

The Shaik trial, Zuma dismissal, demagoguery. Revolt no 1.

After a year or two of democratic rule, a range of longstanding ANC veterans left jobs under clouds or allegations of wrongdoing, were convicted or appear to have used office or connections to enrich themselves in one way or another. Many of the allegations, convictions, or dismissals from office surrounded the arms deal where arms were procured with allegations or proof that there were payoffs or the Travelgate scandal where MPs defrauded parliament in some cases by R 250,000 (US$34,000) each or more (and some of these have been appointed to chair parliamentary committees now). One of these Mnyamezeli Booi, chair of the parliamentary defence committee, has recently been convicted of theft of R 50,000 and sentenced to 5 years with an option of a fine. The ANC rejected calls for him to resign (see also below). Many investigations appear to have been left uncompleted in the flux that has followed the collapse of the Zuma prosecution (see below) and new allegations or potential prosecutions continue to emerge.

But this was part of a range of areas of enrichment engaged in by youth leaguers as well as famous veterans, which cast doubt on the previously relatively untarnished image of the ANC with regard to honesty on financial matters. Other allegations continue to surface.[21] When Brett Kebble was assassinated and later shown to be a crook of the highest order, members of the ANCYL carried his coffin and ANC leaders attended his memorial service in a high profile manner. When Tony Yengeni and Rev Allan Boesak were jailed for fraud/theft they were seen off as heroes by crowds which included ANC leaders. They have both been welcomed back as heroes to the ANC and Congress of the People (COPE) respectively.

The atmosphere became increasingly one where people from outside the liberation struggle saw themselves retrospectively justified or represented themselves as not having participated because they anticipated this dishonest conduct that appeared to be so rife and also condoned. This is my personal experience of a smug sense that having been in the liberation struggle required ‘justification’ to the non-participants, especially found in academia.

Shabir Shaik, member of a family that had played a significant role in the liberation struggle was charged with fraud, and much of the fraud related to his dealings with Zuma.[22] Zuma was not in Shaik’s trial. Prior to the start of the case, a statement by the then director of prosecutions and minister of justice said that while there was a prima facie case against Zuma, there was insufficient evidence for a prosecution. This was a strange statement in that a prima facie case is usually considered sufficient to bring a prosecution. But every evening in 2005, the TV carried evidence of money doled out to Zuma, and his bank statements. At the time, I personally felt some sympathy for Zuma, who was not on trial, but was being embarrassed in this way. However, when judgement was delivered the court found that Shaik and Zuma were in a relationship that entailed passing of wealth to Zuma for reasons that could not be explained on a contractual or other legal basis.

Mbeki acted after judgment. He dismissed Zuma as state deputy president, while he remained ANC deputy president with curtailed powers. There was a sense of outrage among sections of the ANC support base who believed that Zuma was a victim of a conspiracy on the part of Mbeki to deny Zuma the presidency, and mass demonstrations occurred where images of Mbeki were burnt.

The SACP and COSATU leadership involved themselves deeply in this rising against the ANC presidency. Zuma himself was quick to step into the role of a popular leader who differed from Mbeki in listening to the people, not being aloof and promising to attend to the needs of the poor. This approach found resonance in the 2005 ANC National General Council (NGC) where some of Zuma’s ANC powers were reinstated.

The SACP and COSATU leaderships depicted Zuma as part of a socialist project, belied by Zuma’s record, along with his long- time partner Mbeki, who had both left the SACP as central committee members in 1990. Later in the year preparations were made to prosecute Zuma for corruption and other charges.

In the meantime, however, in late 2005, a woman laid a charge of rape against Zuma. The trial followed in 2006. Known as Khwezi, she was the daughter of a former Robben Island comrade of Zuma’s and had known him since childhood, referring to him as malume (uncle). The trial was conducted in a classic sexist manner, with the rape complainant being transformed into the accused, where her ‘sexual history’ (in fact cases of abuse) was allowed as evidence, and Zuma was permitted to pronounce on what was and was not Zulu custom, that a Zulu man could not leave a woman who was aroused, (and similar phrases) that were unchallenged by the prosecution and the judge (Suttner 2009b).

Zuma was acquitted, though a better-prepared prosecution better able to contest Zuma on cultural and patriarchal issues, could well have led to the allegation of rape being proved beyond reasonable doubt. Instead there was a meeting of minds between judge and Zuma and acquiescence by the prosecution. At this point Zuma is technically not guilty, which is not the same as proven innocent. Detailed study of the court records could well provide strong arguments to show how this was in fact a decision that could have gone the other way.

Every day Zuma was supported outside the courts by large crowds who threatened the complainant and anyone who supported her, and circulated her name and address.

Zuma did not act with modesty or humility, and would emerge from the court room to sing what was now called his favourite song (forgotten between 1990 and the trial), meaning in English ‘bring me my machine gun’. The gun is a phallic symbol and shooting bullets can be taken to connote ejaculation. That is why the katyusha rockets, used by the Cubans against the South African Defence Force (SADF) were known as ‘Stalin’s organs’. His movements, while singing the song, could also be taken to mimic a sexual act. What Zuma was doing was re-enacting the rape he claimed not to have committed (ibid).[23] Thus, Mosioua ‘Terror’ Lekota, a former senior Mbeki cabinet minister and now President of the Congress of the People (COPE) grasps elements of the problem with Zuma singing this song when he refers to its belonging to a different phase of history.[24] But Lekota does not relate it to its moment of revival, a rape trial, and how the song evokes imagery related to sex or rape. Likewise, Liz Gunner (2009) in a profound study of the re-emergence of the song and its history does not present it as having phallic imagery and in my view wrongly attributes to it provision of agency to the masses. This combination of male sexuality and power was a key element in the image that Zuma manifested in the period that lay ahead.

It should be noted that the overall diagnosis of the rape trial made by the SACP, COSATU leaderships and other Zuma supporters, was that it was an element of an overall conspiracy against Zuma. At the same time Zuma’s mode of defence, an artillery-style onslaught on the dignity of the complainant, was not criticised by the previously gender-sensitive SACP (especially under Chris Hani) and any who criticised this stance were labelled as devious, counter-revolutionary or similar phrases.

Having been acquitted then, Zuma repeatedly appeared in court between 2006 and 2009 with his corruption charges dismissed or reinstated on technical grounds.

The cash-strapped SACP allowed its General Secretary, Blade Nzimande (now minister responsible for higher education issues in Zuma’s cabinet), to dog the trail of Zuma, following him from court case to court case, rally to rally. COSATU and the SACP became more and more absorbed in the Zuma project. Each of these organisations had important programmatic documents, but they were not publicised in the same way as the necessity of Zuma leadership.

Polokwane

These events formed the backdrop to the ANC conference of December 2007, when a new ANC presidential election was held. Mbeki was defeated by Zuma. It may have been Mbeki’s initial plan to use the ‘Soviet option’, that is, retire to the ANC presidency but declare that the revolution is led by the revolutionary organisation, and direct whoever succeeded him. Unfortunately, he found that option played out against him and it finally led to his dismissal from office, following a court judgment that was subsequently over-turned.

Before that happened, the results of Polokwane saw the rise of a different ANC leadership from any seen before, some 10 per cent of them being convicted criminals or facing investigations that might lead to conviction. It saw the election of a large number of individuals who had never had grievances against Mbeki until they fell out of favour and lost their jobs, or were disaffected for other non-political reasons, or saw the turn of the tide towards Zuma. In the Johannesburg Times (7 May 2009) a photograph shows one of these Mnyamezeli Booi one of the first to congratulate Zuma on his election as president. It is the same Booi who had formed the Thabo Mbeki foundation in Cape Town in the days of his power. As noted above, he has recently been convicted of theft under the Travelgate scandal.

In general the Zuma project was not a political alternative counterposed to that of Mbeki. While there has often been left-sounding rhetoric when Zuma speaks to COSATU or SACP, though it is now more muted, a glance at the business pages of newspapers sees a note of continuity if not more conservatism than in the macro-economic policies of the Mbeki era. As the new government’s period in office starts to operate over time it has become very difficult for Zuma to balance the claims made on the basis of this rhetoric and the other demands that need to be addressed for governmental stability and for economic management in a situation of crisis.

The new ANC inaugurated a period of unprecedented threats and incitements to violence and other forms of lawlessness and political intolerance, more so during the election than after taking government. This emanated particularly from the ANC and Communist youth sections but very little was said to dissociate the ANC leadership from such statements or, if there were reprimands, similar statements would quickly follow.

The ANCYL’s president, Julius Malema, ridiculed ‘Khwezi’, saying that she must have enjoyed the encounter because people who ask for taxi money and stay there the whole night enjoy it, and those ‘who don’t enjoy it, leave’ (Times [Johannesburg] 30 January 2009; The Star 24 January 2009).The election campaign was devoid of reference to gender and that may be true of all parties. Quotas of women, which has been raised repeatedly, while important, is not the same as questions of gender and patriarchy, addressing such issues as the violent masculinities that prevent any successful campaign against gender-based violence and the spread of HIV/Aids. This may point to unfinished business in ANC feminist and gender policies which have left room for masculinities to be relatively unexamined.

What seems clear is that the battle of Polokwane was for power and loot. In Shakespeare the fool often says the wisest things. Julius Malema told E New International during the campaign: ‘Look at COPE they are poor. If you want to be prosperous, you must be with the ANC’.[25]

What has ensued in the period that followed Polokwane are more and more excessive statements, a flood of defections from the previous Mbeki camp to Zuma, and the continued creation of an atmosphere of fear and disrespect for constitutionalism, manifested in repeated attacks and ill-judged statements about the courts. In the current period (October 2009) what has emerged is that these are not purely ANC as organisation but elements of the govenernment itself.

Revolt no 2: the emergence of COPE

After the dismissal of Mbeki, Kgalema Motlanthe, ANC deputy president, was installed as president. This led to the resignation of a number of ministers who had been in the Mbeki camp. They gradually moved to form an alternative party ‘true to the principles of the Freedom Charter’, which they claimed the Zuma ANC had abandoned.

Whatever threat the Democratic Alliance (DA) may have posed, most of the ANC’s attention was focused on COPE and vice versa. Many COPE meetings led to violence emanating from ANC supporters, which was covered on TV. Again, while there has sometimes been verbal condemnation, the attacks on meetings continued, thus threatening freedom of speech, association, assembly and political organisation. This disregard of constitutional rights form part of what may still become a systemic crisis.

COPE made the error of asking the public to assess its value by its electoral performance, claiming that it could displace the ANC from power. There was not preparation for after-life, following its 7.6 8% electoral performance. It is now a moment of re-birth or death, in that it drew people who felt that the Zuma-led ANC was not the ANC they wanted.

The rise of COPE may still have importance in its initial demonstration that the ANC is not invincible, and that they were capable of denting its support base. It also showed that there was another home and — unprecedented for an opposition party — for most of its leadership and probably following to come from a liberation movement background. There was now an alternative to the ANC that unlike the Democratic Alliance (DA) was not associated in any way with the apartheid past.

But that initial momentum was not maintained by demonstrating that COPE was a definite alternative to the Zuma-ites. It has also shown evidence of infighting and general disunity and it is not clear what unites them, other than claimed moral superiority to the Zuma ANC.

COPE appears to have lost momentum, lost the opportunity to make real gains, by actually advancing a qualitatively different programme. They are a revamped version of Mbeki-ism, with certain new warts. No violence, nor apparent corruption, but nothing to hold one’s attention. It seems unlikely to become a powerful force, consolidating a relationship between its base which had a large proportion apparently from the working class and its leadership, mainly from the rising African bourgeoisie or former government ministers and build itself into a democratic organisation with a democratic vision, going beyond that of Mbeki. If one is to risk a forecast, the prospects for COPE’s future do not look good, though had they moved slower and not been faced by an election it is possible that they would have remained a challenge.

Internal contradictions within ANC base

Beneath the surface of the ANC, there are differences within their immediate support base and backers that could lead to contradictions that could split the ANC. Both ANC and COPE (judging from film footage of those who attend their meetings) have or had in the case of COPE, substantial working-class support, people who want relief from recession and poverty, and generally hope for a better life, sometimes with ideological convictions more or less developed.

At the same time, ANC backers include sections of business. It should be noted that Patrice Motsepe, one of the world’s dollar billionaires sat on the stage in the ANC election rally at Rustenburg in April and continues to enjoy considerable access to ANC leaders as do other rising black bourgeoisie, in some cases different from those of the Mbeki era. In the past someone having no constitutional standing or formal connections with ANC leadership would not be seen in such prominence as Motsepe has enjoyed, especially if they were a member of the emerging bourgeoisie.

The present ANC depicts itself as the party of the poor, while many of its youth leaders are billionaires, and its backers are sections of business, some of a somewhat unsavoury kind. The Youth League itself has been shown to follow dubious practices in its business section.[26]

Now, while SACP and COSATU appear to be driving the Zuma project — and this is one of the reasons why some people are critical — the question is whether this is in fact true. My view is that SACP and COSATU are being swallowed at a leadership level by Zuma, not the other way round. Some realisation of that is manifested in the disputes over the power of Trevor Manuel as head of Planning Commission which Cosatu sees as undermining, former unionist, Ebrahim Patel, as Minister of Economic Planning. There is an unstated need to maintain continuity manifested by the presence and orientation of Manuel, insofar as this can be personalised. At the same time, the presence of left Ministers is a product of the COSATU and particularly SACP actually pursuing personal advancement, first of Zuma and then of themselves, especially in the case of the SACP. In reality, this is not a f is a unified project and Zuma will have to choose (based on who has best access to him, but by the objective conditions of the economy). Like Mbeki, will the measure of stability he can achieve not dictate that preference is given to the wishes of business, and particularly white business, with its contact with overseas capital and the rating agencies?

Zuma has displayed great eagerness to win white acceptance, with apparent success on the side of business. The SACP has few constituents to whom it reports. COSATU, however stands to lose if it does not deliver to fairly well organised unions. Zwelinzima Vavi, COSATU General Secretary has already criticised some ANC statements, while ANC Treasurer- General M. Phosa and to a lesser extent Zuma appear to talk past him with assurances to business. This has now been replicated by new cabinet ministers. At the time of writing there are a series of strikes and service development demonstrations, with Vavi declaring his continued support for the Zuma-led government, but indicating that he has a constituency to support, whose interests have to be placed first.

The ANC leadership of today is fundamentally a coalition brought together by a sense of exclusion –from wealth and power. It has drawn on disreputable elements who sit alongside some refined or seasoned ANC leaders. They are united by a desire for wealth and/or position. For the more respectable among them, contempt for Mbeki could not mean renouncing any position. That was unthinkable and determined their association, albeit generally discreetly, with the looters.

But despite an enlargement of cabinet, there are not enough positions to meet everyone’s needs, nor enough wealth to pillage. Consequently there are some who will emerge dissatisfied, which may create instability of a similar kind to that which resulted when some were excluded from the Mbeki patronage system. Already prior to the inauguration, the designated chair of the ANC caucus, Nozizwe Routledge-Madlala, resigned from parliament, as did the ANC national Chair Baleka Mbete — apparently on the basis of a decision, from which she was excluded[27] — , retreating to ANC headquarters in Johannesburg, which is now weighed down by full time leaders who may not coexist well in one building.

The movement from patronage to patronage plus warlordism has been manifested after elections, by the MK Veterans threatening to make the Western Cape under DA premiership ‘ungovernable’, without any reprimand from leadership, and from conservative, anti-popular policies to no debate and the probable continuation of elite politics combined with lawlessness. This is not to say that there are no ideas advanced, but there is no engagement beyond the elite. The lack of engagement is more dangerous and less respectful of the best in the ANC’s legacies. Mbeki’s intellectualism or what Alec Russell (2009) calls pretences of that, are he claims now being displaced by anti-intellectualism. That is very evident in the absence of ideological engagement and debate. What has happened to National Democratic Revolution, ‘two nations’, the national question, the meanings of the Freedom Charter and other debates? In truth, many of the new leadership, especially the youth, know more about KFC (Kentucky Fried Chicken) than the FC (Freedom Charter). There is much more to the Freedom Charter (repeatedly referred to as the reason for establishing COPE) than opposition to unlawful and violent behaviour (see Suttner and Cronin 2006, espeically the introduction).

Shortly before the elections on 6 April 2009, all of Zuma’s many charges of fraud, money laundering, bribery and others, were withdrawn by the Acting Director of Public Prosecutions, Mr Moketedi Mpshe. This was on the basis of intercepted telephone conversations, mainly between the former director, Bulelani Ngcuka and head of investigations Leonard McCarthy. The conversations related, not to the substance of the case, but to timing, when Zuma should be charged. The integrity of the case itself, which had been prepared over years, remained free of any interference. The withdrawal meant that Mpshe had decided that the allegations would not be tested by the courts and that the relevance to that case of these alleged telephone conversations were decided by the NPA and not the courts. This has been questioned by one of the most eminent South African advocates, Wim Trengove, part of the prosecution team (Trengove 2009).

The argument that emerges — I: Mbekism continues, with no debate, more violence and probable economic continuity

There is very little difference in content in the Mbeki and Zuma vision. It is in fact a broadly common programme which is being pursued, with difference in style. This difference in style is however of much greater importance than wearing of suits or Madiba shirts, but relates to threats and actual use of violence and potential or existing graft.

Zuma was sworn in as president of South Africa on Saturday 9 May 2009, a moment long awaited with enthusiasm by his supporters and dreaded by others (whose numbers may be hard to estimate, as individuals like Archbishop Tutu now endorse Zuma). It is, however, clear that this is what the overwhelming majority of people in a high poll desired. Many may have under-estimated the extent of this support which is reflected in headlines and in an atmosphere of excitement apparently expecting the birth of something new and better for democracy. This notion of a ‘new beginning’ and approval of Zuma’s first 100 days flood the media. It is also encouraged by capital that has an interest in stability and ensuring by their support that the choices made are business-friendly.

What effect will this new situation have on the ANC and South Africa? Is the change radical and if so, what type of radicalism does it represent? What will it mean for the participation of ordinary South Africans and democracy and Zuma (2009) himself referred to ‘participatory democracy’ in his inaugural address? What will it mean for economic stability and development and the quality of peoples’ lives?

It is said that Zuma represents something very different from Mbeki. He traces his lineage to Mandela and generally explicitly omits Mbeki. I want to assert that of all people, the one person who cannot divorce his past from that of Mbeki is Zuma and it is complete fabrication to now paint him as always having been different, and with popular leanings. This is conceded by Zuma’s biographer, Jeremy Gordin (2008: 56, see also 47), who in speaking of the early 1990s remarks that ‘Zuma and Mbeki were almost joined at the hip; they operated as a team and had for a long time […]’.

It is true that — like Nelson Mandela — he has a popular touch instead of the intellectual aloofness associated with Mbeki. Zuma can walk comfortably with the masses and speak in a language they understand. Even if some believed that he created embarrassment by some statements (for example that Afrikaners, amongst the whites are the only real South Africans, calling COPE dogs and snakes, homophobic utterances and most ridiculed, his theories on HIV prevention by showering) or should be advised to do this or that, there is no doubt that he struck a chord, well beyond the fora or circles where his legal woes were prepared or disposed of.

He and Mbeki worked together for decades, from the 1970s, including initial contacts with the apartheid National Intelligence Service (NIS) over prospective negotiations, on the National Executive Committee (NEC) of the ANC and Central Committee (CC) of the SACP, in negotiations with Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) and right wing Afrikaners and other issues in the post 1990 period. They worked together in government and those who have sat together with them in NEC or CC meetings can attest to there having been no visible difference in their overall political positions. It is hard to think of any issue where they were on opposite sides. In fact, the period from 1999 can be spoken of as a Mbeki/Zuma government.

The close comrades that formed the networks around each may in some cases have overlapped with the Zuma/Mbeki relationship, though it is not clear. It is important to remember that long, long before any tension between Zuma and Mbeki was visible, there was internal warfare seething between Mac Maharaj and Mbeki and Joe Slovo and Mbeki in the NEC in Lusaka, and Zuma was not with the Mbeki opponents . But the bond between Mbeki and Zuma had been consolidated after unbanning and was undeniable and there was no expression of any reservation on the part of Zuma towards any anti-popular or anti-democratic or secretive or conservative economic policies initiated by Mbeki. There would be stiff competition if one had to judge who of the two was more secretive, conspiratorial and operating more comfortably behind the scenes. That much is on the record — in the memory of all those who have worked with them — and I challenge anyone to show otherwise.

It may be that Mbeki in making Zuma deputy president believed that the latter would understand that he ought to have no ambition to succeed him as president and there is some evidence of Zuma not being very decisive or effective in managing an organisation. He was ineffectual as deputy secretary general of the ANC from 1991-1994 and as a Member of the Executive Committee (MEC) in KwaZulu Natal from 1994 to 1997. Nevertheless it later became clear that Zuma did indeed have in mind succeeding Mbeki, something that the latter may have found unthinkable. It is claimed that Mbeki initiated various conspiracies including charges to frustrate this ambition. The evidence has yet to be proven, though references to Mbeki allegedly appear on tapes that were used by the NPA to justify dropping charges against Zuma. Certainly it is far-fetched to claim that Mbeki initiated the rape trial, though the overall atmosphere made it possible for some of the SACP and COSATU leaders to depict this as part of the overall alleged conspiracy. It should also be noted that Zuma had at his disposal many close comrades with a lot of experience in gathering intelligence.

Whatever Mbeki may or may not have done to frustrate Zuma’s rise to power, the outcome is not an ideological or programmatic victory, the ‘democratic genie’ has not been let out of the box as Neil Coleman of COSATU (and now adviser to Minister Ebrahim Patel) put it (Coleman 2008), this is not necessarily a new opening for democracy in any greater respect than before. There is no reason to believe that the mode of working will involve any greater mass participation than in the Mbeki period (earlier Mbeki/Zuma period). The notion of democracy will be essentially representative democracy and there is little practical mention of a mass driven process, as before. Any plan for popular driven policies depends on organisation and clear programmes. The preoccupation at the moment and in all previous statements has been around government delivery. After 5 months there are no indications to the contrary (revised late October 2009).

The fervour surrounding support for Zuma may extend well beyond the ANC, for Zuma has managed to reach out to people with apparent warmth and many of the public who are not ANC supporters appear to cast a blind eye towards the various warts which attach to him.

It is very interesting how not only business but the (big business owned) media have decided to ‘give Zuma a chance’ and the mass circulation Sunday Times has opened a column for a key Zuma backer, Mac Maharaj, former ANC and SACP leader, with his e mail address given as at the Sunday Times. Such placing of ANC individuals in that or similar newspapers may be without precedent.

The Zuma electoral campaign was not geared towards politicisation but personalisation and elevation of the allegedly homely qualities of the leader. This definitely inspired a sense of warmth and also religiosity. One person spoke of meeting him and feeling as if she had met the Lord. Many churches have blessed the ANC and its members have drawn parallels between Zuma and Jesus Christ.[29] Zuma and the ANC have done nothing to stop the messianic element that has emerged and whether that will cause problems in the future is not clear. It may be that the level of emotional rapport between Zuma and the masses has surpassed that of Madiba on the level of communication.

What is interesting is that the ‘traditional churches’, the Anglicans, Roman Catholics, Methodists and the South African Council of Churches have been sidelined, while the ‘charismatic’ churches, some of rather shady character have enjoyed favour and sought closeness to Zuma.[30]

The same victory arouses dread in others, by their threat to freedom of speech, organisation, breaking up of meetings and high tolerance of gender violence. Some of these fear that a Zimbabwean type crisis will emerge. My personal belief is that this may well turn out to be a relatively conservative administration on an economic level, judging from the early but contradictory statements of Zuma, Phosa and now various ministers, like Pravin Gordhan in Finance. Plans for radical restructuring, emanating from COSATU and SACP may well be stalled or sidelined or the name of such plans may appear, but a left programme is unlikely or certainly not going to be implemented, as with the RDP. Even at this moment there are at the same time some successes that have been scored (though built but unpublicised in previous administrations) in small business development, for example, which may increase in the period ahead.[31] There are clearly some positive elements that merely require continuity for good performance.

That the end of violence may not be here is evident not only emanating from the youth but the aggressive approach of the new Minister of Police who has indicated that police should not hesitate to shoot, fearing media responses or human rights groups, in dealing with crime.[32] This has now been formulated in a range of ways, by MECs and the new Commissioner of Police, but the desire for greater use of lethal firepower is clear.

On one level it responds to an alleged crime wave where statistics are not clear, but where there is little doubt in our consciousness and experience that crime is rife. Apart from jobs and poverty relief, there is a broad consensus, extending across all sectors to end crime or bring it under control. The Minister is speaking into that sense of fear, insecurity and uncontrolled crime. The important thing is how we deal with crime that we do not feed into the idea that it is only through strong, highly aggressive policing that it can be contained. Where is the community policing and street committees in this plan, if the element of participation is taken seriously?

Is this a progressive way of responding, under a constitution that guarantees the right to life? Is it not replicating the type of response of some of the most reactionary regimes there have been? While we may have a crime crisis, we cannot spill unnecessary blood, whether in cross fire or through mistaken identification of criminals. We know that once the green light for shooting is given, not only the actual perpetrators of serious crimes will die, but many more. This is on the one hand, part of the new style (which was present in the approaches of former ministers of safety and security (really policing), Steve Tswete and Susan Shabangu and former police commissioner, Jackie Selebi), but it is also a sense of indifference to constitutional rights. One has to protect each constitutional right with cognisance of all others. This is not being articulated. Even as this call for tightening of legislation has been made, the police have fired and killed innocent people and statistics show that this has happened on a large scale.[33]

The fight against crime does not have one solution. To shoot more people cannot be the first option in a state engaged in an emancipatory project. This is not the way a democratic government operates. It should know that there are a range of approaches especially if it has a democratic basis and draws on neighbourhoods in a structured and organised manner.

The statements of the Minister of Police and others, illustrates dramatically the lack of breadth and depth and democratic commitment and awareness in sections of the Zuma leadership. Many do not show their hand obviously, but it is clear that the notion of an emancipatory project is not imprinted in their minds.

As indicated, a series of strikes and uprisings concerning wages, service delivery and a range of other issues have broken out, resulting in police using rubber bullets and live ammunition. In one report, entitled ‘Different regime, same brutality’ by Chantelle Benjamin, the force which the police used to stop protests led KwaZulu Natal province local government Member of the Exuctive Council (MEC), Willies Mchunu, to appeal for them to refrain from shooting at protesters. He was to meet with national and provincial security ministers to draw up a memorandum of understanding detailing how police officers should deal with such protests.

While Mchunu appealed for, protests to stop, he added: ‘Pictures of elderly men and women with injuries sustained as a result of the use of rubber bullets, and sometimes live ammunition, only serve to cast a negative perception on our young democracy.’ No report of any meeting has yet emerged.

Zuma has himself urged police to act swiftly against protesters and that there was no justification for violence, looting and destruction of violence, or attacks on foreign nationals. But John Appolis, an official of the Anti-Privatisation Forum said that the police had not attempted to talk to the community in Meyerton (one of the areas affected). They were just ordered to disperse and then police began firing (Benjamin 2009).

There is a sense that when the police arrive with heavily armed units before talking, that creates a more aggressive mood in the community. Public order policing directives require that police first attempt to resolve a situation before ordering people to disperse. In the past police have accompanied protesters to ensure that there was no violence or criminal activity. ‘We do not see this any more’, says Appolis (ibid).

A new element that emerges from this newspaper report is that within the range of contradictions contained within the government, are those between departments perceiving their roles in ways that conflict with one another.

The argument that emerges II — The centrality of feminism, patriarchy and gender

The rise of the Zuma phenomenon is deeply gendered and tied to the scourge of violent masculinities. The violent masculinities are manifested in a number of phenomena that precede the rise of Zuma, such as high violent crime and gender based violence (GBV), gangsterism and so on. But what the Zuma phenomenon has provided is a model of manhood that is conducive to violence. I am not suggesting that every boy will follow any example of manhood, their agency needs exploration (Wood and Jewkes 2001: 138-9).

The Zuma rape trial evoked both an image of the armed struggle being associated with a ‘Zulu man’ exercising his cultural duties. There has been an epidemic of rapes and murder of lesbian African women, and the stripping of women wearing mini-skirts or pants, in the name of ‘culture’ (Mhlana 2008). The ANC leadership has appealed for tolerance, while turning a blind eye to war talk and break up of election meetings. Separately, starting before Zuma with projected legislation, there is an unprecedented standing accorded to ‘traditional’ affairs (unproblematised as having an obvious, essentialised meaning) in the new cabinet, that also bolsters the most reactionary elements of patriarchal domination. Much of what is described in the above paragraph is likely to place strain on constitutionalism, in resolving the demands of respect for culture (where it is treated in an essentialised, static way) and that of gender equality. Large numbers of girls have their first sexual encounter through coercion. When they continue with a partner, it has been found that attempts to use a condom often lead to assault (Wood and Jewkes 2001: 134). In other words, displaying condoms in toilets (read: bathrooms) need to be supplemented by a range of organisational efforts addressed to models of masculinity.

What we are dealing with is that the ANC has never confronted feminism, patriarchy and gender in their fullest extent, but dealt primarily with women’s advancement and thus places great weight on its commendable attempts to advance the number of women in various positions of government and other structures. But by failing to locate the quantitative questions within the qualitative nature of patriarchal domination they are leaving the notion of masculinities unscrutinised and also neglecting the fact that some women elected to high office practice patriarchal modes of domination towards both men and women.

The way forward

Underneath the euphoria we have seen that there is incipient instability within the Zuma support base. That may be seen as healthy disagreement by some; alternatively and more likely it is a manifestation of personalised political infighting and potential instability. This is not a good condition for dealing with a recession and widespread unemployment and loss of food security and other social problems on a possibly unprecedented scale. There is not yet an alternative that can be inclusive and popular and involve a large number of people. Already, some have suggested that high wage rises in response to strikes may deter investors.

I have been hovering over the significance of the potential of a Marxist explanation of the rise of leadership like Zuma’s and its apparent popular base and how this relates to ‘circumstances directly encountered, given and transmitted from the past’ (Marx 1934: 10). In the Eighteenth Brumaire, amongst other works, Marx, Engels and Lenin provide significant and complex qualifiers, which need more study than can be provided here. Whatever the context currently framing political issues, the importance of leadership and the lack of leadership is an element in whether or not we are dealing with a crisis or merely personalities, or in my view both. This will also meant further study of the meanings of ‘populism’ and what salience, if any it bears.

An example of Zuma’s ad hoc leadership is his eve of election promise to delay implementation of the Bus Rapid Transport System (the BTR System), thus throwing all earlier negotiations into confusion.[34] There is also an example of unrealistic undertakings in the promise to provide 600,000 jobs in a time of grave economic crisis. COSATU has expressed dissatisfaction in that what jobs have been created are short term ones.

We have had a situation where leadership was conducted by a powerful mind, when those around him delivered the good things of life to the masses, who were onlookers.

We have now moved to someone — and his followers — who combine promises with threats and inspire dread in some and trust in others. There is a break with the leadership tradition that has been bequeathed to the ANC. That tradition of Luthuli, Walter and Albertina Sisulu, Kotane, Tambo, Mandela, Ngoyi, Hani and others needs to be revived in public debate and teachings, emphasising its selflessness, the willingness to serve rather than to gain, to benefit the people as a whole rather than to secure one’s own wealth or position. These also need to be scrutinised without romanticism and weaknesses identified before they are raised as models to follow.

It has been suggested that Mandela spoke from strength because he had organised backing. Mandela, Mbeki and Zuma, however allowed the ANC as an organised force to be run down. It is no secret that very few branches have clearly functioning roles between elections. It may well be that Zuma has aroused much emotional fervour. Whether or not this will be translated into continued support for him and the ANC, especially if it faces hard times, depends on organisation. Whether that has been thought about in a serious way, remains to be seen.

My concern in this paper has been primarily with safeguarding and extending the ‘democratic breakthrough’ of 1994 in a context where its foundations are threatened. Democracy is a value in its own right but the quality of that democracy affects the type of transformation understood. At this stage the ANC remains the most powerful political actor in South Africa. One cannot simply conclude that there is no remedial action to re-direct it towards a more sustained democratic path. What can be done in the short run appears limited and difficult to achieve or foresee how it will be achieved over time. It requires longer observation of the Zuma leadership and to see how the various potential divisions play themselves out and the extent to which other forces, inside and outside the ANC play significant roles and of what type.

About the author

Raymond Suttner is Research Professor, College of Human Sciences at the University of South Africa in Pretoria. He can be reached at rsuttner@worldonline@co.za and suttnrs@unisa.ac.za.

Aknowledgements

In writing this paper and earlier versions I have benefited from comments of Professor Narend Baijnath, Greg Rosenberg, Marc Suttner, and anonymous peer review. Not all of their opinions and suggestions are represented here, nor are they responsible for some which they may not share or that are absent and may be included in the broader work that is envisaged.

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Notes

1. For a comprehensive discussion, see Gerhart 1978.

2. The inquest found nothing untoward, but anyone who is conversant with inquests during the apartheid era would not regard that as the final word. It is regrettable that there has been no state enquiry, as in the case of Samora Machel.

3. See my interpretation, aided by theologian friends, in Suttner 2009c

4. Interview, J. Nkadimeng, Johannesburg, 2003.

5. See works cited in Suttner 2008: chapter 4.

6. Interview E. Mtshali, (Johannesburg, 8 February 2003); Suttner 2008: ch 7. There are a number of personal wounds that remain from this period and are captured partly in Berstein (1994). This deserves a book on its own

7. Suttner (2008: ch.4), interviews with Murphy Morobe (Midrand, 26 August 2003) and Nat Serache (Johannesburg, 31 August 2002).

8. Interview. Morobe received some training from Tokyo Sexwale, amongst many others.

9. O’Malley (2007), Shubin (2008), ANC (1969, 1985, 1986), and personal knowledge.

10. Personal experience.

11. A similar decision to decide over and above the collective arose, inter alia, in relation to the RDP conference of 1993 which decided that the ANC NEC would appoint the cabinet. Mandela concluded that he would do it on his own (in consultation probably with whoever were his confidants at the time), announcing to the National Working Committee and explicitly referring to the RDP decision, which he considered unworkable. He repeated this on SABC television at the ANC conference in Stellenbosch in 2002. This was in some respects a return to the patterns of intervention of the young Nelson Mandela in the 1950s, continually acting above the organisation. Then he was a young man, now he was an organisational leader. See Suttner (2007). In Long Walk, Mandela (1994), more or less withdraws apologies made to the leadership of the time, reflecting that he was correct.

12. In my recollection, ‘honourable retreat’, in the ANC national leadership at the time of negotiations and UDF leadership before then, was not a major issue, but various guarantees for whites was a key question when negotiations started.

13. Personal discussions with NIS key negotiators in 2004.

14. This is again what you hear in discussions amongst cadres and there probably are one or two documents, circulating informally, but the main thing was the murmuring. And I was travelling all over.

15. Dirk Coetzee, who blew the whistle on some of the activities of Vlakplaas was later admitted as a member of the ANC, despite having been involved in the assassination of Griffiths Mxenge. I was in ANC leadership around much of the 1990s and have never heard any discussion of this. It seems that the TRC process was pre-empted somewhere. It is not clear when the decision was made and it definitely did not occur after 1991. Exactly who could take such decisions is not clear to me. When I once asked Joe Slovo whether Coetzee was a member he said he would not belong to the same organization as such a person.

16. This largely unrecognized category deserves a careful study, for my impression is that it comprised a large number of people.

17. Personal knowledge of UDF and Buntman (2003).

18. The analogy of a shepherd ‘going ahead of the flock’ in Sampson (1999: 346,352); also cited by Lodge (2006: 157) is rebutted in Suttner (2007: 114-6).

19. This role re-emerged in the period after Polokwane when Zuma was ANC president and Mbeki remained State president and it continues to be claimed that the organisation drives policies. It remains to be seen whether this will be so once the ANC government is settled into place, and whether the organisation means ANC government and partially ANC leadership or members as well. At a leadership level it may be that the personality of Gwede Mantashe, the secretary-general could sustain continued intervention. How wise the character of such interventions may be is open to question.

20. Personal communication from SACP leadership figures in early 21st century. I cannot give precise dates since this was during a series of meetings, where these perceptions were commonly held and communicated to me.

21. The recent report of irregularities in the Youth League investment company.

22. Despite his infatuation with Zuma, Gordin (2008) gives a fairly comprehensive account of the extent of the Shaik hand outs to Zuma and his alleged involvement in bribery during the arms deal.

23. If, however, Lekota had gone further and related militarism to the rise of violent masculinity he may have taken our understanding of gender violence further.

24. Though even then, all military activities tend to have the potentiality of taking booty, including women (see Suttner 2009b).

25. E news international, 6 p.m report, 22 March 2009.

26. See, for example, Moipone Malefane, ‘The ANC Youth League and the missing millions’, The Times (Johannesburg), 2 August 2009.

27. Personal knowledge.

28. Personal information.

29. Contribution of Rev Ian Booth at seminar of 26 August in University of KwaZulu Natal Durban, and periodic media reports.

30. Contribution of Rev Ian Booth at University of KwaZulu Natal seminar, 26 August 2009.

31. Report of support received from aspirant business group and detailed assistance provided by Department of Trade and Industry.

32. ‘Army to join crime war’, The Sunday Independent, 17 May 2009.

33. See, e.g., ‘“Shoot to kill” cops: A mother’s anguish’, Times (Johannesburg), 13 October 2009; ‘Father of cowboy cops’ victim rejects apologies’, Star, 14 October 2009.

34. Reported on SABC on the eve of the general election.

***

From ACAS Bulletin 84: The Politics of Jacob Zuma

Scoring an own-goal

South Africa is revolting. Since May 2009 there has been a wave of uninterrupted township as police clash on an almost weekly basis with unemployed protestors and striking workers. A recent estimate counts 63 major ‘service delivery’ protests since January 2009 with 24 percent of protests taking place in Guateng and 19 percent in the Western Cape and Mpumalanga. As the protests continue, increasing strain is being put on the Tripartite Alliance as some African National Congress (ANC) leaders in national and provincial government have accused the South African Communist Party (SACP) and the South African National Civic Organisation (SANCO) of being behind violent protests.

What are misleadingly called ‘service delivery’ protests have been about a wide range of issues and have included the working poor, the unemployed and students protesting about increased student fees at campuses across the country from Cape Town to Johannesburg. In October in Gugulethu up to 2000 people protested about the lack of jobs being created for local people at a new Square Mall that recently opened. To the far north in Nelspruit people protested outside the 2010 Mbombela stadium at 6am demanding that the government build them a school they were promised when they were relocated to make way for the World Cup stadium. And still the protests erupt and spread. During the past several weeks Sakhile informal settlement in Standerton has been rocked by violent protests culminating in an incredible 10,000 people marching to hand over a memorandum to the local council.

What is in part fascinating about this wave of protests and strikes is that they come just months after the April re-election of the African National Congress (ANC) and the new President Jacob Zuma. He was seen by many, particularly his supporters in COSATU the Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU) and the Soh Africsn Communist Party (SACP) as representing a new start for the ANC government after 12 years of neoliberal polices imposed by former President Thabo Mbeki. The belief in Zuma as a fresh start has not been missed. One protestor Sandile Mahlangu claimed “President Zuma promised to rid government of corruption and lazy officials”.

The township protests coincided with an outbreak of national strikes. These latest strikes followed the month long strike in June 2007 that was the longest and largest public-sector strike in the history of South Africa and included over 700,000 workers on strike and another 300,000, for whom it was illegal to strike, taking part in militant marches, pickets and other forms of protest. In August 2008 another general strike brought the economy to a standstill when COSATU called its two million members out on a one-day strike in protest of rising prices of food and fuel. This strike followed an announcement that electricity prices would increase by 27.5 percent. Since the start of 2009 there have been 24 officially recorded major protests across the country and government officials believe that the rate of protests this year will exceed those for 2007 and 2008.

Although South Africa is Africa’s most successful economy (it contributes a third of all sub-Saharan Africa’s 48 countries), not everyone has benefitted equally. Since the late 1990s South Africa’s economy has grown at 6 percent each year and inflation has been reduced to around 6 per cent, on a par with other similar economies. Yet this has been done through introducing neoliberal policies with tight control over public spending and service delivery, that has hit the poorest hardest as money has been diverted from public spending into tax cuts for the rich and middle class. Increases in government budget allocations have come not through some fundamental shift in macroeconomic policy but through emphasising fiscal efficiency. Such ‘efficiency savings’, argue COSATU and others, are at the expense of social spending for the working class.

Yet the ANC government has found the money to line the pockets of big business through billions of pounds of tax cuts as they have reduced corporation tax from 50 percent in the early 1990s to less than 30 percent today. The growth in the economy in the last few years is linked to the growth in global demand, particularly from China, for South African manufacturing and primary commodities. As elsewhere in the world this coincided with a financial and speculative boom resulting in property prices rocketing by 400 per cent – higher than the rise in property prices in the USA and Ireland. Whilst there has been investment in infrastructure, this has been money based on Private Finance Initiatives similar those in the UK, with money ploughed into tourist projects such as the football stadiums for the 2010 World Cup, the controversial World Bank backed Lesoto Highlands Water Project and an elitist fast rail service (that avoids Soweto) between Johannesburg and Pretoria that will largely service rich and middle class commuters.

Although the proportion of people living below the poverty line dropped from 58 percent in 2000 to 48 percent in 2005 and many families have access to social grants and other poverty alleviation programmes, many households and communities remain trapped in poverty. Some 75 percent of African children lived in income poverty in 2007, compared to 43 percent of ‘coloured’ children, 14 percent of Indian children and 5 percent of white children. Little wonder that South Africa is a country in turmoil as the anger and bitterness of shattered dreams of liberation eats away at the very fabric of society. It is an anger that is also expressed in the average of 50 people a day murdered and high levels of child abuse and rape. Although crime figures have fallen over the past several years, they are still high by international standards

The government claims to have built over two million new houses but there are still 2000 informal settlements across South Africa, in which people live without sanitation and electricity in shacks made of corrugated iron and waste materials. On average there are 10 shack fires a day killing several hundred people a year. These disasters devastate the lives of all concerned, putting young children, the old and disabled people particularly at risk and making the poor and vulnerable destitute. Life in the shacks is one of permanent drudgery as one shackdweller Funake Mkhwambi told how ‘My shack gets flooded every year. I have to move every winter to stay with my cousins elsewhere. We are a family of 8, including 5 children who often get sick because of the cold and dirty water’.

Two sets of figures released in October 2009 reveal much about South Africa one of the most unequal countries one earth. The Sunday Times annual rich list shows that despite the recession ‘… executives are pocketing all sorts of additional bonuses and making mega-profits on unacceptably generous share options. This is in addition to huge basic salaries and performance bonuses, with bonuses still being earned by many despite the nonperformance of their companies’. At the same time the Labour Force Survey shows that 1 million jobs have been lost in the last year with official unemployment put at 24.5 per cent but many in civil society put the figure at over 40 percent. A figure that will continue to rise as the global economic crisis starts to bite in a country whose recent economic fortunes have been built on demand for commodities such as coal, gold and platinum.

Little wonder that the demand for jobs and decent wages is at the heart of calls from township protestors and striking workers alike and a growing unemployed peoples movement organises mass thefts of basic foodstuffs in cites such as Durban. This is a country in which one worker feeds on average another 5 members of the family. In a country in which the every other 18-24 year old is unemployed a cursory glance at the media coverage reveals poor, hungry, angry faces. Yet having promised to create 500,000 jobs in a recent state of the nation address, President Zuma retracted and stated that ‘These are not the permanent jobs the economy should create but opportunities that should help our people survive in the short term’. And already analysts are already talking of, when it comes, a jobless recovery.

To understand today’s protests and strikes it is important to understand the significance of the election of Jacob Zuma and the expectations he unleashed. But it was an earlier rising tide of worker and township militancy that he deftly rode so enabling him to win the presidency of the ANC. By 2006 there were on average approximately 6,000 township and community protests a year across the country. These were largely local-based revolts against the failure of the ANC government to satisfy ‘service delivery’ demands. These revolts occurred at a greater rate then any other country in the world. But important in which have also been the independent ‘social movements’ typified by the Anti-Privatization Forum who have emerged since 1999 largely as an attempt to coordinate struggles against the ANC’s relentless commodification and privatization of basic services and produced the first cracks in the ANC monolith, proving that you can challenge the ANC’s commitment to neo-liberalism. But it was the recent strikes that destroyed Mbeki that breathed new life into the left inside the Alliance.

Despite being written off by many commentators on the left as ‘bought off’ or ‘tied to the apron strings of the ANC’ there has been a revival of the organised working class. A significant turning point was the 2006 violent security guard and cleaners strike that in some cases went beyond the control of the trade union leaders and began, however falteringly, to show signs of independent rank and file action.

Between 2003 and 2006, the number of days lost to strikes rose from 500,000 to 2, 6 million, most of which took place in 2006. June 2007 witnessed the largest strike in South Africa history. It lasted four weeks, with 11 million strike days lost as public sector workers marched and struck and an underlying current of which was a growing antipathy towards the ANC leadership.

Paradoxically, it was during this period that COSATU’s role in the Alliance led some activists on the left to discount the role of the working class – some even repeating the 1970s theory about the unionised representing a ‘labour aristocracy’. If this was the case, what sense could possibly be made of the strikes at the level of political analysis, let along political engagement?

What is clear is that political transformations have followed from labour struggles. So the last important event came in December 2007 at the ANC Polokwane congress. The writing was on the wall for Mbeki, the coup against him only a matter of time. In short these events, notably the uprisings and strikes – represented a revolt against Mbeki’s neo-liberalism. A revolt that catapulted Zuma to the head of the ANC. Some on the left missed how the rising militancy reverberated inside the ANC and argued that Mbeki was replaced as president due to the internal conflicts. But the conflicts inside the ANC reflect the anger and frustration with ANC neoliberal policies and Mbeki’s fate was not sealed by internal party manoeuvres but by general strikes and protests in recent years that Zuma cleverly latched on to with help from the SACP and COSATU. By seeming to victimise Zuma, Mbeki enhanced his popularity and created a new leader for millions of disaffected people.

Zuma unlike Mbeki is seen as a ‘man of the people’ and a friend of the workers who is willing to listen to the trade unions. Touted as a leftist by his supporters, he sounds more like a US Republican, said one newspaper columnist, as he calls for tougher action against crime and freer markets. Prior to his election as president one of Zuma’s closest advisers, former trade union leader Gwede Mantashe, met with investors in Cape Town and stressed the ways to accelerate South Africa’s rate of investment, fight crime and provide a progressive social safety net. He said that under President Zuma’s leadership ‘this isn’t about business versus the poor, it’s about creating an environment for business while tending to the needs of the poor.’ At one point prior to his election Zuma talked of establishing a ‘pact’ between businesses, government and unions to address low wages, strikes and inflation. Yet this has already been shattered by the strikes and protests and instead of bringing social peace, the Financial Times has noted ‘There is an ugly, unpredictable mood among South Africa’s poor’.

It is this mood of militancy; militant strikes and the township protests over the last few years that have had the cumulative effect of blowing apart the neo-liberal consensus in the Alliance. With the election of Jacob Zuma as president many hoped that this would usher in a new period of social stability. 15 years of ANC rule have seen South Africa become the most unequal country in the world but also the protest capital of the world. In May 2008 government and police figures noted that between 1997 and 2008 there had been 8695 violent or unrest?related crowd management incidents and 84, 487 peaceful demonstrations or peaceful crowd management incidents.

The difference this time is that whilst previous protests have focused on issues such as lack of water and housing, the recent protests have been more generalised and more violent. As protestor Mzonke Poni told reporters ‘Whenever the ANC government fails to deliver, it comes up with excuses and blames it on individuals. It’s true that its councillors lack commitment and skills, but it is the national leadership that is also to blame – and meanwhile people have to suffer. The only way the government notices us is when we express our anger and rage. Then they understand how we feel.’ The protests and strikes caught many people by surprise with some commentators expressing disbelief at the level of political anger at a government elected just three months before with 66 per cent of the vote. As one commentator said about South Africa ‘They just don’t vote they throw bricks as well’. Unless something drastic is done then the bricks look set to be thrown in the future as residents involved in the latest out break of protests in Eldorado Park in Johannesburg threatened “We will protest at the stadiums (of the 2010 World Cup) so the tourists can see how bad we have it here” said Hilton Cannell a member of the resident’s housing committee. By focusing much of its capital infrastructure spending on the World Cup in the hope that it would trickle down to the unemployed and working poor the government increasingly looks like it has scored an own-goal.

About the author

Peter Dwyer teaches Political Economy at Ruskin College, Oxford. Prior to this he worked in South Africa for 4 years in research and popular education.

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From ACAS Bulletin 84: The Politics of Jacob Zuma

Presidentialism and its Pitfalls: Towards a theory of how not to understand the Zuma Presidency

It was an unthinkable for many. That Jacob Zuma would become President of post-Apartheid South Africa. Or rather it was unthinkable for many in the West, and for many of the elites in the postcolonial world. At some point South Africa possessed one of the neatest narratives in the history of national liberation movements. A globally condemned problem- racism, and a globally revered leader- Nelson Mandela. A history of violence that was transcended through forgiveness and reconciliation. That was a much consumed version of the story in most of the world. The untidiness of historical actualities is of course a different matter. And yet it seems that the untidiness of actuality always struggles to find voice when it doesn’t seem to tell the story that is required. Perhaps that is because we grasp the world through genres of understanding. Our historical-political events, like our economic fates, are told through classificatory systems, concept repertoires, metaphors, and idioms that allow us to make the specificity of a moment both commensurate with other specific moments in other places at other times. Specificity is therefore inserted and dissolved into historical Time and space so that we can tell a story who’s dimensions, characters, and plot we are roughly already familiar with. We have good stories, and bad stories. There are the inspirational stories, the tragedies, dramas, and the farces, perhaps too much farce. Political life in liberal democracies, totalitarian states and other forms of centralized authority embodied in a person has a genre of its own, through which we seek to make sense of it all. Yet in making sense of the individual leader, the genre that governs plot, character and narrative in political journalism and much political science literature, has already predetermined what it looks for, even if it can’t always govern the timing of events, as the epics of Greek political tragedy demonstrate.

In Africa we perhaps suffer the worse forms of this genre of understanding political life and leadership, since we have to live with cardboard cut-out caricatures, such as a ‘Big Man’ theory of African politics, still very much alive in African Studies it seems, given the glut of B-movie ‘analyses’ of Robert Mugabe we have seen over the last decade. It would however be unfair to castigate scholars in and of African political life alone for mobilizing this heuristic device. It is a mode of understanding political life that exceeds us and is often taken from elsewhere and travels like a global cookie cutter in the sky, landing on a sovereign territory, and forcing its template onto the ground so that what emerges in relief are things like ‘The President’ and ‘the Masses’. All eyes are put on the leader if we want to understand what’s going on, and what’s going to happen. My point is not that this is necessarily wrong in some places at some times. Its just that this mode of analyses might not apply so well everywhere all of the time. And one place it doesn’t apply to very well too is in the analysis of the rise to power, and the practices of political power, the policies and futures we are going to have under the Presidency of Jacob Zuma. That is because while we might refer to him as President Zuma, and whilst we have a very complex institutional machinery designed around him, called the “Presidency”, it would be an analytical mistake to understand Jacob Zuma’s occupation of the presidency in the way that we might understand the rise to power of a political leader in a Presidential system, where an electorate votes directly for the president who is required to spell out an individualized vision and policy agenda.

Jacob Zuma might rather be understood as an ‘empty signifier’, as the name that marks something to be contested over, to be filled in, and to be discursively managed. The rise of Jacob Zuma to the presidency is quite distinct to the individual who went into exile, who spent a month locked in the same jail cell with his comrade Thabo Mbeki in Swaziland in the 1980’s, who became head of ANC intelligence in exile, and who became Deputy President of the ANC, and of the country. Whilst Mr. Zuma is not reducible to any one of these, his public persona is a compound of all these facets. To understand the “Zuma Presidency” I would argue requires studying two dimensions. Firstly, it requires a historical analysis of the ANC in exile, the transformation of the liberation movement into a political party, and an understanding of the local effects of a post-political techno-administrative rationality of governance in a specific global economic context after the Cold War .[1] Jacob Zuma is the name of a confluence of different forces, interests and pasts that intersect to name him, as it were, and that come together in a movement that translates into a displacement of a sitting President who represents another countervailing movement. I prefer then to think of events as marking confluences, of ruptures, of congealing and of dissolving, of a multiplicity of things that are constantly coming together and coming apart. Secondly, I would view the figure of Jacob Zuma-as-President as a person within the webs that have been spun around him that congealed into the ‘political tsunami’ [2], but who’s fragile unity is scattered all over the shores. That movement which produced that spectacular but now spent wave is drawing its parts together to find and maintain a post-tsunami coherency. Witness the struggles over where the center of gravity for dealing with economic policy lies today: is it with the newly created Planning Commission, headed by a senior figure of the past executive responsible for overseeing what was seen as conservative neo-liberal fiscal policy that hurt the poor, or does it lie with the new ministry for Economic Development, headed by a deployee of the labour movement who is not tainted by being part of the previous political administration? The ‘constitutive outside’, to invoke a concept from Ernesto Laclau, of the forces that congealed around Jacob Zuma- the figure of Thabo Mbeki and what he stood for — has largely been vanquished at the top and its remnants are slowly being rooted out throughout the bureaucracy. The struggle now is within the diverse unity that cohered around a particular set of grievances, and that found a groundswell in the form of Jacob Zuma as the agent of change.

Political events in South Africa understood as a Zuma-Mbeki personality struggle, as much as the Tsvangarai-Mugabe affair in Zimbabwe is told this way, do not encourage us to understand our politics as structurally shaped and historically grounded. We are encouraged rather to construct personality archetypes which become turn-keys to unravel the mystery in the drama. Yes, Thabo Mbeki and Jacob Zuma lend themselves to stark contrasts — the urban sophisticated intellectual who is thoughtful and reticent versus the formally uneducated goat herder who is warm and approachable. We may even find in the person of Thabo Mbeki that story we are looking for, of a seemingly deliberate individualized rise to power that appears less constituency based- he is quoted as saying when he came back from exile that he had ‘no constituencies’, where rivals like Chris Hani at Mafikeng in1991, Cyril Ramaphosa at the negotiations in Kempton Park, Tokyo Sexwale later on — potential rivals that might have eclipsed him, are outmaneuvered in one way or another. We might find in Mbeki who participated in the secret talks with the apartheid regime whilst simultaneously drafting resolutions for the South African Communist Party demanding mass insurrection, a certain double-speaking tendency driven by a larger vision, in that case the realization that an armed struggle was unlikely to conquer power and that negotiations were the only viable route. To that extent, we could argue that Mbeki possessed a discernable ‘vision’ which was stamped onto the Presidency, spelt out in his ‘I am an African’ speech, in the commitment to peacekeeping in the continent, in the style of dealing with the political events in Zimbabwe, in the stance on HIV/Aids, in the style of appointments and of dealing with critics of the vision that emerged from the Presidency, either through what it said or refused to say.

On the other hand, it would be difficult to find a policy quarrel between Thabo Mbeki and Jacob Zuma; the latter was a cooperative part of the executive that made policy under the former’s presidency. What then is at stake in the divisive question of ‘succession’ in the ANC and of the country that brought Jacob Zuma to power? How then did Jacob Zuma emerge as the symbolic figure that represents ‘the Left’ of the tripartite alliance partners, as well as a popular figure who’s increasing legal woes only endeared him more and more to grassroots sympathy? Even if they possess very distinct personalities, why is it that the traits of the one resonated with the mass base of the ANC at this point in time rather than the traits of the other?

Post-apartheid South Africa has contended with two main legacies. The first is the legacy of the exclusion of the majority of those who resided in it from the political community of citizens. Transforming all who lived in it into full legal citizens defines its ‘democratic imperative’. The second legacy it confronts is the effects of economic exclusion and marginalization, which impoverished the majority of its residents at the gain of its few citizens. Improving the basic conditions of life for the majority therefore defines the state’s ‘developmental imperative’. The relationship between representing ‘the will of the people’ — the democratic imperative — and making ‘a better life for all’ — the developmental imperative — is however not a seamless one.

The presidency under Mandela and Mbeki read its mandate- the ‘delivery’ of basic services and the improvement of the welfare of the majority of citizens lives — as an administrative matter to be resolved by expertise. Its criteria for success or failure is to be able quantify its achievements with regard to delivery. There is a remarkable moment at the ANC conference at Polokwane in 2007 where Mbeki and Zuma squared off against in each in the vote for leadership of the ANC. Mbeki is met with open hostility by a pro-Zuma audience of delegates, whom the chairperson struggles to reign in. Mbeki’s advisers suggested to him that he use the opportunity to make a speech that was emotive, and that spoke to the hearts of delegates, that ‘looked people in the eye’, as Ronnie Kasrils said. Mbeki however, consistently technocratic, looked down and read the text of a speech crowded with facts and figures about the achievements of the Presidency. The audience was visibly bored and yawned through it. The technocratic and the popular seemed worlds apart in that moment.

Another dimension to the story is that citizenship in South Africa, which was racially and ethnically exclusive, seeks to create a legal subject of the political in a context where the Law still lacks legitimacy in the eyes of many South Africans, particularly its punitive side. Its important to note that the more Zuma became a subject of punitive law, as an accused of either corruption or rape, the greater the public displays of popular support were. Jacob Zuma, as a victim of Law, resonated with the political disposition of many black South Africans towards law, as a codification of injustice towards them, and therefore lacking legitimacy and authority. In a recent piece, Slavoj Zizek notes that “the key fact here is that pure post-politics (a regime whose self legitimization would have been thoroughly ‘technocratic’, presenting itself as competent administration) is inherently impossible: any political regime needs a supplementary ‘populist’ level of self-legitimization”.[3] The contrast of Zuma to Mbeki as a ‘populist’ leader to a centralizing one, in this context is both misleading and simultaneously useful. What is misleading is the view that Zuma in his person represents a ‘populist’ leader, in the mould of figures like Argentina’s Juan Peron. I would argue rather that the campaign around Zuma takes on populist forms which are projected onto Zuma, whilst we are likely to see that in practice his governance imperatives will force him to manage the relationship between technocratic problem solving, and popular approval, necessary elements of all democratic regimes and their leaders. Zuma has already shown himself willing to criticize the constituency that brought him to power.[4] The challenge is going to be how he manages and is managed by the contending forces at work on the Presidency once they start criticizing what he actually begins to stands for.

About the author

Suren Pillay is a Senior Researcher in Democracy and Governance at the Human Science Research Council in South Africa

Notes

1. For one of the more thoughtful analyses of the confluence of local socio-economic shifts, the rise of Jacob Zuma and ‘Zuluness’ as an idiom of populism in Kwazulu Natal, see Ari Sitas’s discussion document, ‘Populism and the NDR in South Africa’ 2007, http://iolsresearch.ukzn.ac.za/FullVersionPopulismandNDRinSouthAfrica12070.aspx, accessed on 28 October 2009.

2. The general secretary of the country’s largest trade union federation, Zwelinzima Vavi, described Zuma’s bid for the Presidency as an ‘unstoppable tsunami’.

3. Slavoj Zizek, ‘Against the Populist Temptation’, http://www.lacan.com/zizpopulism.htm, accessed on 20 October 2009.

4. According to a newspaper account, addressing workers debating to go on strike, he remarked ‘There is no pandering to the unions. Asked if he felt indebted to unions, Zuma said: ‘Not at all’. James Macharia ‘There is no Pandering to Unions’, Mail and Guardian, 12 August 2009. Also August this year Zuma paid a surprise visit to the town of Balfour, which had experienced protests, to check in on local government officials. The Mayor was apparently off sick, but rushed to the office when he heard of his visitor. Karabo Keepile ‘The day the President came knocking’, Mail and Guardian, 26 August 2009. There have been similar visits elsewhere in the country, not only by himself, but by other ministers, who have been vocal in the criticisms of perceived incompetence.

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From ACAS Bulletin 84: The Politics of Jacob Zuma

Introduction: The Politics of Jacob Zuma

Jacob Zuma, the President of Africa’s most powerful democracy since April 2009, and the recently chosen ‘African President of the Year’ (Sapa 2009), arouses strong passions from his supporters and detractors.

A longtime ANC official from a humble peasant background in what is now Kwazulu-Natal province, Zuma was picked by the ANC to be the country’s deputy president under Thabo Mbeki in 1999.

The men, close colleagues during exile (and during the early years of negotiating with the Apartheid government), appeared to only enjoy a friendly rivalry at that point.

So when it came to predicting who would lead South Africa when Mbeki departed the national stage, most observers did not think of Zuma as a serious contender. He hardly featured in the daily cut and thrust of national politics, save for spearheading a ‘moral regeneration’ effort and co-chairing a national body to coordinate the government’s AIDS prevention and treatment effort with NGOs. No one took the focus on morals seriously and Mbeki was really in charge of AIDS policy.

Then in 2004 Shabir Shaik, a close associate of Zuma, was tried on charges of corruption and fraud relating to a controversial $5 billion government arms deal. During the trial it emerged that Shaik managed Zuma’s finances and that Zuma was probably embroiled in a corrupt relationship with Shaik (he was accused of procuring bribes for Zuma from arms manufacturers).

In June 2005, President Mbeki — alluding to possible corruption charges against Zuma — decided to relieve Zuma of his duties as deputy president. A few months later Zuma was charged with raping the HIV-positive daughter of his former cellmate on Robben Island.

Though Zuma was acquitted of the rape charge, during the trial he claimed to have showered after sex to prevent possible infection and also suggested that his alleged victim invited sex by dressing provocatively. His supporters — who held marches and rallies outside the court — also threatened his accuser with death. She eventually sough asylum in the Netherlands.

By most accounts, Zuma would have been set for certain political isolation. Instead, a combination of factors resurrected his political career.

Zuma’s warm personality contrasted sharply with Mbeki’s cold, secretive and paranoid character (Mbeki at one point had the Minister of Police investigate three of his rivals for ANC President). Zuma’s poor background — he is from a peasant family; his single mother was a domestic to white Durban families — also differed from Mbeki’s status as an ANC insider (Mbeki’s father was a rival of Mandela and served more than two decades on Robben Island; in fact, Mbeki was sent out of South Africa to prepare him for leadership).

Mbeki’s government also became associated with crony corruption and loyalty to non-performing ministers and senior government officials, AIDS deaths (and denialism) as well as other negative social indicators (massive unemployment and growing class fissures among blacks, among others).

Mbeki’s critics inside the ANC and its allies (the trade union movement and communists) found in Jacob Zuma — ‘the 100% Percent Zulu Boy’ — an ambitious politician and willing accomplice.

For Mbeki’s opponents ground zero would be the party’s national conference in December 2007 — where the ANC usually anoints its leaders and, since 1990, when it was unbanned, its presidential candidates.

Publicly Mbeki — who by now could not conceal his open disdain for Zuma, denied that he wanted to change the country’s constitution and serve a third term, leaving it to his surrogates to publicly promote the idea. When his proposal of a third-term was rejected by the ANC, Mbeki instead offered to remain only as party president.

No one could predict what followed next: Zuma trounced Mbeki in elections for party leader (he won nearly twice the number of voters Mbeki got).

With Mbeki now controlling the state and Zuma the party, something had to give. It was clear Zuma’s camp held the upper hand and in September 2008 Mbeki resigned his post as the country’s president. This plunged the ANC into its first serious crisis since the 1970s (then a group of rabid African nationalists were expelled because of their views of whites and communists). Some party leaders close to Mbeki eventually broke away to form the Congress of the People (COPE) in October 2008. Though the ANC appointed the party secretary-general, Kgalema Montlante, as President of South Africa, it was clear that the preferred candidate of those who had ousted Mbeki, was Zuma. In early 2009 the corruption charges against Zuma was dismissed. Soon after he was declared the ANC’s candidate for President. Zuma, contrary to elite opinion, especially foreign and domestic media, emerged as a capable leader, rallying the ANC’s core supporters and running a smooth, tight election campaign to be elected as South Africa’s third democratic president.

Zuma had campaigned with the promise that he would only serve one term, but in June 2009 he announced that he wants to serve the maximum allowed two presidential terms. This means Zuma will now certainly dominate South African politics for the next decade.

Unlike his predecessors as South Africa’s democratic presidents — Nelson Mandela and Thabo Mbeki — Zuma is a relatively close book. He is also not known to write things down.

But Zuma, like Mbeki before him, is considered a polarizing figure in mainstream accounts. Journalist Mark Gevisser (2007), who authored a 900-odd page biography of Thabo Mbeki, later declared that he is not a fan of Zuma. Gevisser later wrote an article for the British Prospect Magazine to declare that he would not vote for the ANC with Zuma as leader (Gevisser 2009). Former ANC member of parliament, Andrew Feinstein, in his book about the arms deal, described Jacob Zuma as morally compromised. Some, like journalist Alec Russell, hedge their bets on Zuma. In his recent book on South Africa, Russell (who was a fan of Mbeki’s rightwing economic policies) speculates on what kind of leader Jacob Zuma will be: ‘If South Africa is lucky, Zuma will be its Ronald Reagan’. That is if Zuma leaves the governing to technocrats, while working to ‘make the country feel good about itself’. At the same time Zuma could develop into a ‘Big Man personality cult’ and a ‘charismatic populist,’ according to Russell (2009). But with the exception of Russell, none of the other books claim to be about Zuma specifically.

To shed light on the politics and ideology of Jacob Zuma, we approached a number of experts (among them historians, political scientists, and sociologists) based inside and outside South Africa, to shed led on Zuma’s politics and biography. In these essays, the contributors attempt to get beyond the headlines to explore aspects of Zuma’s political identity, his class politics, biography (Robben Island, his Zuluness), his political alliances, style of government, gender politics, among others.

Essays are by Suren Pillay, Peter Dwyer, Raymond Suttner, Ari Sitas, Hlonipha Mokoena, Thembisa Waetjen and Gerhard Mare and Fran Buntman. There is also an essay by an Anonymous contributor. Rather than summarize them here, we have decided to let them speak for themselves.

Layout and additional editing for this issue was done by Jacob Mundy, my fellow editor of the Bulletin.

About the author

Sean Jacobs is an Assistant Professor of Media and Culture in the Graduate Program in International Affairs at the New School, New York.

References

Gevisser, M. 2007. Thabo Mbeki: The Dream Deferred. Johannesburg, Jonathan Ball

Gevisser, M. 2009. Why I didn’t vote for the ANC, Prospect Magazine, May, pp.19-20, http://www.prospectmagazine.co.uk/2009/05/whyididntvoteanc/

Russell, A. 2009. Bring Me My Machine Gun: The Battle for the Soul of South Africa, from Mandela to Zuma. New York, Public Affairs.

South African Press Agency (SAPA). 2009. ‘Zuma Crowned African President of the Year’, Mail & Guardian online, 11 November 2009, http://www.mg.co.za/article/2009-11-11-zuma-crowned-african-president-of-the-year.

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From ACAS Bulletin 84: The Politics of Jacob Zuma

Manhood, violence and coercive sexualities in men’s prisons: dynamics and consequences behind bars and beyond

Over the last few years the CSVR in Johannesburg has conducted research on sexual violence in men’s prisons. One striking feature of this work, which initially jolted my assumptions, has been the relative readiness of perpetrators of male same-sex rape in prison to report this violence to us as compared to the bashfulness of victims.

It’s the context of the situation where perpetrators seem more willing to talk about their violence than victims – that I’ll consider in this article, showing how it is actually well explained by the social place that sexual violence occupies in prison. This focus which has pertinence far beyond prison walls as well, sheds light on particular notions of gender and sexuality and their relations to violence.

The ways in which sexual violence in men’s prisons is understood and lived is largely framed by dominant inmate culture – the behaviours and understandings considered normal in that context and which are upheld by those wielding most power. Sexual violence in prison is interwoven into the workings of dominant inmate culture, which in South Africa is strongly influenced by prison gangsterism. So for example, sexual violence is structured into gang hierarchies and features in the classification processes of new members into these hierarchies. But while it is so embedded in this culture, the many ways in which the culture normalizes this violence, simultaneously make it invisible.

One way in which this happens is that parties in the violence are conceptually disappeared. Male victims of prison sexual violence are no longer even acknowledged as men, but are commonly believed to have been turned into “women”. In the words of one of our respondents,

“If … sex [is done to you], … you are now a woman … There is nothing we can do … and we don’t care … When [you] walk past people want to touch [you] or threaten to rape [you].”

Another aspect of this is that sexual violence is normalized through forced partnerings which are often referred to as prison “marriages”. The majority of rape victims end up being taken as “wives” or “wyfies” in forced marriage relationships by the perpetrators, whom the dominant inmate culture identify as “men”. In these forced marriages the wyfies (who have had the feminized identity imposed on them) are seen as the means to the “men’s” sexual gratification and, in the vast majority of cases, “marriages” become the place of ongoing sexual abuse.

While “marriages” are abruptly and brutally brought about through rape, in more than a few ways they also mimic the dominant heterosexual marriages that we’re all familiar with in dominant heterosexual relations outside. This resemblance is regularly drawn on to legitimize them, with inmates saying things like, “But prison wives are treated just like women outside”. Ultimately “marriages” smooth over the anxiety-provoking issue of violence by disappearing its protagonists: they turn victims into “wives” and perpetrators into “men”.

In contrast, other powerful and prevalent discourses bring very specific unwanted attention on the victim, blaming him for what has happened to him and building the perception that rape is the victim’s fault and the perpetrator has done nothing wrong.

While in these ways, sexual violence is minimized and obscured at the same time that there’s a profound stigmatization of victims, in contrast other forms of violence in prison are seen as central to establishing identities that are desirable and validated in inmate culture. The meaning of “manhood” in prison relies on an ability both to use and withstand violence (along with qualities like manipulation skills and self-sufficiency.) Violence is so wrapped up with “manhood” that if someone who has been made into a “woman” wants to escape the abuse and be promoted to “manhood” he’ll have to commit violence to prove his worthiness.

This way in which different forms of violence function to establish different gendered identities strongly resonates with Whitehead’s (2005) analysis of masculinity and violence. He identifies two categories of violence employed by men (in contexts of “masculine anxiety”) to assert manhood amongst their peers. The first which relates to the reliance of the notion of prison manhood on particular forms of violence, is violence that supports the masculinity of both men in that it’s seen as men fighting against each other (they’re viewed as “worthy rivals”). But the second, which regularly involves sexual humiliation, is violence which functions to exclude victims from the category “man”. To become victim of this sort of violence is seen as a signal that one is unworthy of a masculine status, turning him into a “non-man” (Whitehead, 2005, p411). Male rape in prison, seen as destroying the victims masculinity while endorsing that of the perpetrator, is clearly an example of such violence.

In the fundamentally misogynist environment of the prison, the feminine status imposed on victims represents the demolition of respect and identity amongst peers. The notion that ‘real men’ cannot be raped – and that if they were real men they would have managed to fight off attackers is widespread in society generally. So there’s very minimal if any room in prevalent understandings of masculinity for experiences of victimization amongst men.

Regarding the official states of affairs, practices of the Department of Correctional Services (DCS), like the dominant inmate culture make prison rape invisible. Quite literally rape is disappeared in the prison records of violence where there’s no category of rape / sexual assault. So if someone is raped, this is captured under the general category of “assault”. The policies also do not state just what it is and what is not allowed regarding sex and sexual violence. This leads to much confusion and ultimately assists in keeping sexual violence hidden for not naming it for what it is – at the same time that it contributes to homophobia. DCS’s lack of services and capacity to deal with sexual violence mirrors this absence. The official systems then, like the inmate culture, provide no space for male rape victims.

It’s also pertinent to consider an emerging discourse which tries to oppose these dominant currents. It’s employed by some activists attempting to address the situation and to get recognition for victims of prison rape. In doing so they’ve highlighted the potential for male rape victims to themselves become violent in the future. So, in its bluntest form, a regularly stated argument is that unless we pay victims the attention they deserve, they will become rapists on the outside in attempt to regain their manhood.

But it’s certainly not a given that aggression and violence follow sexual victimization – and in terms of how prison rape may generate future violence, it seems noteworthy that in these well-intentioned discourses, the victims are singled out as potential perpetrators while those doing the raping and coercing – the prison “men” – are ignored (that’s not to say that they’re not sometimes the same people). It is however perhaps more likely that prison “men” will, on release, continue their abusive ways and in relation to ‘outside’ women as well.

There is certainly strategic mileage in this approach where it draws much-needed attention to male rape victims, but this argument can itself be damaging. By foregrounding victims as future rapists, activists risk stigmatizing them further. They get seen not as victims or survivors but as dangerous potential perpetrators, with the implied message being that we should pay prison rape victims attention to stop them from violating others and not because they’re worthy of our attention simply because they’ve been harmed and violated.

Unintentionally, this sort of message leaves male victims as few options as they are offered by the brutal notions of “masculinity” which have such a hold on the inmate culture. These notions make recognition and respect conditional on a capacity for violence – and the activist discourse ends up doing the same thing by saying the reason we need to pay them attention is the danger that they’ll become violent. The vulnerability of men is an area that society apparently refuses to acknowledge unless we feel frightened by what our ongoing disregard may bring. Therefore, certain attempts to start addressing male vulnerability end up uncritically assuming automatic links between men and violence – and run the risk of endorsing the very beliefs we seek to debunk.

Prison represents a key socializing institution in South Africa like in many other countries with scores of our young men entering as well as exiting it everyday. The impact of prison experiences on those experiencing them is suggested in the findings of a survey we conducted in a youth correctional facility (Gear 2007). We asked the young men about different kinds of processes that they’d been through that they felt had turned them from boys into men. The emphasis was on their feelings, and they were told to include formal and informal processes, as well socially acceptable and frowned-upon processes where relevant. We found that as they’d spent longer in prison, processes that had taken place during their incarcerations became more and more of a feature. The periods of imprisonment were however relatively short. For example, amongst those who’d served 2 – 3 years of their sentences, 52 % had participated in processes inside prison which they felt had turned them from a boy into a man. At the same time, manhood processes taking place inside prison were having an impact even soon after inmates’ arrivals – so they didn’t have to be there long to have these formative experiences. Similarly, we found that they’d gotten much of what they knew about sex from their in-prison experiences.

Clearly prison experiences play a critical role in these young inmates’ sense of themselves as well as in their approaches to sexuality and gender.

Deeply destructive notions of what it means to be a “man” are entrenched in prison and include ones that see victims of prison sexual violence going unrecognized or receiving only stigmatized and humiliating attention while perpetrators go unchallenged and even garner respect as a result. But while these harmful ideas about manhood may be particularly exaggerated in prison, the discourses that support them are powerful outside prison as well. They are also the same ones feeding South Africa’s extreme levels of gender based violence more broadly, solutions to which are only going to come about with the celebration of alternative ideas of manhood that do not link respect with violence. Fundamentally alternative notions of masculinity need also to acknowledge male vulnerability. These are two sides of the same masculinity coin.

From ACAS Bulletin 83: Sexual and gender based violence in Africa

About the author
Sasha Gear works at the Centre for the Study of Violence in Johannesburg where she was first involved in researching ex-combatants’ experiences of transitional South Africa. Since late 2001 she has coordinated the Sexual Violence in Prison Project, producing qualitative and quantitative research to gain understanding on the nature and circumstances of sexual violence and coercion happening in men’s prisons. In addition she is involved in awareness-raising and capacity-building initiatives for prison staff and others working in prison to promote sexual health and to develop strategies to prevent and respond to sexual violence behind bars. She has published on the ways in which violence plays out in the socio-cultural world of prisons and on the gendered dimensions of male rape. Her primary interest is in masculinities and how different understandings of manhood feed into and shape experiences of violence. sgear@csvr.

This is a shortened version of a presentation given at the Sexual Violence Research Initiative (SVRI) Forum, July 2009 in Johannesburg.

References

Whitehead, A. (2005). ‘Man to Man Violence’,The Howard Journal, 44(4): 411-422.

Gear, S. (2007b) Doing Time in a Gauteng Juvenile Correctional Centre for Males. Briefing Report No.01, Johannesburg: CSVR.

Other CSVR sources on sex and sexual violence in South African men’s prisons are available at http://www.csvr.org.za

Gear, S. 2007. ‘Behind the Bars of Masculiinity: Male Rape and Homophobia in and about South Africa Men’s Prisons. Sexualities. Vol10 (2):209-227.

Gear, S. (2007a) Fear, Violence & Sexual Violence in a Gauteng Juvenile Correctional Centre for Males. Briefing Report No.02, Johannesburg: CSVR.

Gear, S. (2005) ‘Rules of engagement: Structuring sex and damage in men’s prisons and beyond’, Culture, Health & Sexuality, 7(3): 195-208.

Gear,S. & Ngubeni, K. (2003). Your brother, my wife: sex and gender behind bars. SA Crime Quarterly, June.

Gear, S. and Ngubeni, K. (2002). Daai Ding: Sex, Sexual Violence & Coercion in Men’s Prisons, Johannesburg: CSVR.

Trans-hate at the core of gender based violence?

Gender DynamiX is a human rights organisation, the only in South Africa focussing its work on the transgender, transsexual and gender non-conforming sector. The organisation was originally founded to work on a referring database system, collecting and archiving information from and about transgender people by transgender people to disseminate useful information (on request to other transgender people). Stealth living is in many trans[1] people in South Africa’s viewpoint the ultimate goal, hence the lack of information and silence around the prevalence and visibility of transgender role models. What was initially seen as the goal of Gender DynamiX was quickly exceeded and we were contacted by trans people from all areas in the country, indicating a much greater need than collecting and disseminating information. Soon after its inception Gender DynamiX initiated workshops, seminars, participated in the larger LGBTI sector in activism and contributed to the local and regional ‘pool of knowledge’ about transgender, transsexual and gender non-conforming information. Most importantly Gender DynamiX hosts a very informative website which serves in many trans people’s lives as the first touch point to obtain information about medical and legal procedures.

South Africa is internationally acclaimed for its progressive constitution when it enshrined sexual orientation in it’s’ constitution in 1996. Many other important rights were celebrated for gay and lesbian people such as same-sex adoption rights and joint beneficiary on medical schemes and policies. South Africa became the fifth country in the world to celebrate same-sex marriages.

All these liberal and progressive rights are acknowledged amidst an undertone of extreme violence against women, minority groups and LGBTI[2] people. One in three South African women can expect to be raped in her lifetime – at least once. (Moffett, 2009) In documents and research reports one reads that a woman in South Africa is raped every 20 seconds. Vanessa Ludwig opened her keynote address at a fundraiser event (in aid to the End Hate[3] campaign) in March 2008 with a very dramatic but high impact message. She stood in front of the microphone in silence for a few minutes, with a spotlight on her and a djembe[4] drum beating every 20 seconds. After working up to a point where one started to feel very uncomfortable, her first words to the audience were: ‘Each time you hear the drum, another woman is being raped’ and challenged the audience to shift their discomfort to anger.

We hear these shocking and powerful speeches, according to the numerous research reports from credible organisations such as the Medical Research Council, the Human Sciences Research Council and many more (Moffett, 2009) echoing the same astounding statistics.

In post apartheid South Africa with its freedom of speech more powerful presentations, NGO’s mobilizing constituencies, ongoing workshops and awareness raising, campaigns such as the One-in-Nine, the Rose has Thorns Campaign, Take the Night Back, 16 Days of Activism, 070707 Campaign and many more events encourage women to ‘come out’ . This has lead to building a momentum where women initially courageously told their stories. Kwezi[6] , a HIV activist, felt no different in laying charges when she was raped. She exercised her (well informed) constitutional right. The justice she was hoping for turned on her. The system failed her dismally as she was silenced and, for her own safety, she now lives outside South Africa in exile. She does not feel safe in her own democratic country with all its newly gained freedom anymore. Was it because she challenged in court the same Jacob Zuma, who is now our President? The situation Kwezi finds herself in illuminates the ‘victim who became victimized’ discourse. As Moffett states: ‘The 2006 rape trial of Jacob Zuma [7] … provided a clear demonstration of the shortfall between the rights women are guaranteed under the 1996 Constitution and the cultural, political, judicial and social backlash women risk should they lay claim to these rights’.

Illuminated above are clearly contradictions to the rights women are able to exercise and claim in South Africa against the rights written in the constitution. LGBTI people experience similar contradictions between written law and experienced life. Trans people find themselves even more on the fringe, rejected to a very isolated space on the far side of the boundaries of society where they are many times rejected from ‘mainstream’ society, yet not included in LGBTI groups or settings. Similar to how many lesbian and gay people’s lived experience is in contradiction with our constitution, trans people find themselves in a liminal space where they are not included in heterosexual or homosexual spaces, and prejudiced against – yet our constitution makes provision for everyone in the Rainbow Nation.

On the evening of 2 June 2008 Daisy Dube, who proudly self identified as a drag queen was shot and died on the scene. A close friend, who was out the evening with Daisy confirmed the motivation for the killing was their gender identity and that they were not willing to subject themselves to ridicule. The shooting resulted after Daisy and her three friends challenged three homophobic men to refrain from calling them ‘isitabane’.[8]

Not all hate crimes and gender based violence against transgender people results in murder. Not all hate crimes and gender based violence against transgender people in South Africa are reported. Many fear secondary victimisation from the police. A trans woman who was raped by a gang of six guys said she could not report the case at the police due to her fear of the police and the terrible things she heard about the police. Not only is police response humiliating, it is also extremely traumatic (Reid and Dirsuweit, 2009).

Another trans woman was in a house where the police performed a random drug raid, in July 2008. All the house mates were taken to the police station and upon being discovered as transsexual she was kept in the holding cells much longer than the others. She was ‘body searched’ by just about every police officer in the station and she also mentioned assault. She was never found guilty of drugs nor was any charge made against her. In 2007 an intersex woman was taken into a police station for a traffic offence. She was being body searched by every police officer in the station, assaulted and ended up with bruises. She reported the incident to Gender DynamiX; she did not want to lay a charge, neither wanted counselling as she said she just want to block out the ordeal.

Trans people also suffer abuse and violence at the hand of family members, due to their trans identity. One trans woman related how her dad and other male family members raped and assaulted her repeatedly in her early childhood as result of her ‘effeminate behaviour’ and called her moffie. [9] She was also forced to perform sexual acts with a dog to ‘teach her a lesson’.

One trans woman told of a series of incidents which started four months after her gender reassignment surgery. Her house burnt down one night, while she was asleep inside, she fortunately woke up in time to save her own life, but the house burnt completely to the ground. Two months later her business was petrol-bombed and six months after that she was assaulted with a pick handle by her ex wife’s lover. She suspected all these attempts on her life came from them.

25 December 2007 a trans woman reported she wanted to commit suicide as a result of rejection by her community and family. She was severely beaten up by her (then) wife’s family members. At that stage doctors feared that she has lost partial eyesight in her right eye due to damage to her face.

Bullying and teasing at school is something many trans people can relate to. In some cases trans people told me teachers would ‘join in’ ridiculing them for the way they present themselves. One trans woman referred to an incident where a group of boys assaulted her one afternoon after school in the cloak rooms. Incidents like this lead to depression and underperformance. Many trans youth drop out from school at a young age due to intimidation, ridicule and ostracising.

Partners of transgender persons are also subject to transphobic violence and are equally vulnerable, yet are in some cases more invisible. Inasmuch as adequate statistics, information, structures and support for victims of gender based violence are not in existence in South Africa, for lesbian, gay and transgender people, it is even more premature to ask if partners or any SOFFA[10] of transgender people will be recognised and supported, or being counted in transphobic violent acts in hate crime statistics (Cook-Daniels, 2007).

Prevalence of gender based violence amongst any community is harmful. Many incidents in our resent past can be described in the words of Antje Schuhmann as ‘violent statements of claiming control over women’s bodies and their right of expression.’(2009). I want to argue that the violence that gays, lesbians and women in general face are mostly gender based and not sexual orientation based. The transgender community are directly exposed to this threat because of gender non-conformance[11] or cross gender behaviour and expression. It is therefore essential to advocate against this evil and to fight for the protection and rights of all citizens and especially so for LGBTI individuals.

From ACAS Bulletin 83: Sexual and gender based violence in Africa

About the author

Liesl Theron is the founder of Gender DynamiX, a human rights organisation promoting freedom of expression of gender identity, focussing on transgender, transsexual and gender non-conforming persons. Being a gender activist she is actively involved in the organised LGBT sector of South Africa. Her work focuses on the intersectionality of gender and Other bodies. Her research as part of her Honours degree at the University of Cape Town explores the struggles, support and forming of identity of SOFFA’s (Significant Others, family, Friends and Allies) of trans people.

She was selected by the African Regional Sexuality Resource Centre (ARSRC) based in Lagos, Nigeria for the 4th annual Sexuality Leadership Development Fellowship in July 2007, which included post-fellowship research. Her chosen research topic, [Un]accessible shelters for LGT people in Cape Town was, completed in December 2007 and was accepted by the Resource Centre for publication later this year (2009).

References

Cook-Daniels, Loree. 2007. Social Change and Justice for All: The Role of SOFFAs in the Trans Community. http://www.forge-forward.org/handouts/CLAGS_SOFFA.pdf (Last visited: 7 July 2009).

Moffett, Helen. 2009. Sexual Violence, Civil society and the New Constitution, pp 155-184. In Hannah Britten, Jennifer Fish and Shiela Meintjies (eds), Women’s Activism in South Africa: Working Across Divides. Durban: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press.

Reid, Graeme and Dirsuweit, Teresa. 2009. Understanding systematic violence: homophobic attacks in Johannesburg and its surrounds, pp 5-30. In Wendy Isaack (ed), POWA’s State Accountability for Homophobic Violence. People Opposing Women abuse (POWA) as part of the 070707 Campaign.

Schuhmann, Antje. 2009. Battling hate crimes against black lesbians in the rainbow nation. Discussing the limitations of a US American concept and exploring the political horizon beyond law reform, pp 31-45. In Wendy Isaack (ed), POWA’s State Accountability for Homophobic Violence. People Opposing Women abuse (POWA) as part of the 070707 Campaign.

Notes

1. I use the word trans freely in my writing, indicating and respecting trans includes transgender, transsexual, transvestite and gender non-conforming.

2. Most LGB(TI) organisations in South Africa claim they are LGBTI organisations, serving lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex people and their needs. According to Gender DynamiX a very small number of those organisations cater adequately (or at all) for trans and intersex people to the level of information and services they need.

3. The End Hate campaign focuses on hate crimes against LGBTI people

4. African drum.

5. ‘Coming out’ regarding HIV status, rape or being lesbian.

6.Her pseudonym throughout the rape trial and since, to protect her identity

7. Since the rape trial in 2006Jacob Zuma was voted in to become South Africa’s 3rd president since Democracy, April 2009.

8. Originally from the isiZulu term ‘isitabane’ which means hermaphrodite and is usually used in a derogatory way to refer to LGBT people in townships.

9. Moffie – An Afrikaans derogatory term for a gay male that has been borrowed into South African English. Similar to the English equivalent ‘faggot’ , first used as a derogatory term and now in the process of being reclaimed in certain communities.

10. Significant Other, Family, Friends and Allies.

11. Taking for example the woman from Umlazi who was stripped naked and men in the village burned her shack down – because she was wearing trousers. She was not a lesbian. This form of oppression took place because she was not conforming to cultural expected norms.

Post conflict recovery in Sierra Leone: the spiritual self and the transformational state

“We need to get back to the old time mobilization of our grandmothers”, said Regina Amadi, Regional Director for Africa, of the International Labor Organization (ILO), May 8 at the 2009 African Women Changing the Global Outlook Empowerment Conference in Washington D.C. As she spoke before Somali intellectuals, Ugandan business women, Nigerian journalists, and Tanzanian political leaders, she and other global leaders shared their concerns about Africa’s political, economic and environmental and health condition. The British Embassy and National Geographic sponsored the conference by bringing together noted international panelists to respond to audience questions. While the usual suspects brought up age old hot topics such as good governance, the role of Ngo’s, and male political power structures, participants challenged female panel members on what they are doing to empower those who do not have the privilege to attend the conference. American Journalist, Makeda Crane asked, “What are we doing NOW to help the women in the Congo?” Makeda’s overarching question brought to light the complicated tier of injustices that make women’s goal to “help” and “improve” Africa a task bound by time, space, and resources.

What are women doing “now”? The journalist’s urgent demand for change in the Congo is not the first and likely not the last time the international community has called for an intervention on behalf those who cannot seemingly fend for themselves. But what about the women who are fending for themselves while waiting for high powered intellectuals to lobby for an action plan. How do we understand the emotional resources and coping skills of women staring into the face of immediate danger? Ten years ago, in Sierra Leone, the world faced the same challenges as a civil war resulted in violent and humiliating acts along the countryside of Kenema and into the city of Freetown. The devastations were massive, unpredictable and in most cases unpreventable by even well-equipped European military fleets. In the context of conflict and trauma, immediacy is a haunting fog that forces one to think and act in survival mode. While organizations descended to assist villages and communities with their most pressing needs, the women who survived the ten-year ordeal were forced to address their emotional state with the resources that were readily available.

Immediate Healing and Long Term Recovery

This impulsivity for immediate action comes at a historical nexus for rebuilding in Rwanda and Sierra Leone while overlapping with the political unrest in Congo-Kinshasa, the Sudan, and Zimbabwe. We know that women are simultaneously recovering while others are living through unspeakable crimes. We know that they go on to forgive, forget or suppress what they have witnessed. However, what curiously reoccurs in women’s war testimonies are references to spirituality. Sierra Leonean women’s use of spirituality offers psychological clues as to how women continue to press forward and emotionally sustain themselves in the face of trauma. Spirituality aids in women’s ability to transcend their immediate experience and redefine themselves, creating a new world based on a self-tested transformation. Women uphold spiritual relationships as a core component for managing their emotional recovery. Women use spirituality as a self-affirming, personal, and private vehicle for recuperation in areas where organized religion can not sufficiently address the deep interpersonal areas of their lives. Spirituality functions as a regenerative force for individual empowerment by offering the individual an internal source of hope to overcome difficult circumstances. By first developing herself, a woman can then take her strength to catalyze others in similar situations. Spirituality as a healing mechanism is not a new concept. However, spirituality as a tool for African women’s “self then state” transformation is an under-explored topic of post-conflict gender studies.

Me, then We

Western psychology focuses on treating trauma within the frameworks of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) emphasizing individualism and self reliance.[1]1 Though post conflict nations such as Sierra Leone have collectivist attributes, collectivist psychological assumptions ignore the dichotomous nature of individualism and collectivism during traumatic recovery. Individualistic recovery is not limited to a western theoretical psychological outlook. Woman, as an individual in a post conflict setting often are socially mandated to sustain communal relationships. Women are the first ones expected to forgive the sons, brothers, fathers and husbands who carried out heinous crimes. These same women create self-development tools to remind themselves of their purpose and a connection to the “whole”. Gendered spirituality serves as a core component in the overall communities’ capacity to recover and transform after extreme trauma. Anthropologist Dr. Chris Coulter’s (2008)[2]2 reflects upon witnessing a Kuranko girl’s initiation ceremony three years after Sierra Leone’s peace declaration. She ultimately concludes that the gendered ceremony is an opportunity for the Kuranko to reinstitute normalcy. Coulter says,

“The social significance of the ritual is particularly emphasized; the ceremony is not only a social event but has become a key event in reconfiguring social relations after a decade of civil war.” (433)

Similarly, University of Sierra Leone’s Dr. Aisha Fofana Ibrahim’s (2006)[3] 3 research revealed that most of the women she contacted participated in or desired some form of cleansing ceremony, because rituals are “an important catharsis”,

“In Sierra Leone, cleansing ceremonies can last from a day to a month depending on the physical and emotional state of the person seeking a “cure” and the amount of money they can afford to spend. Such ceremonies often include ritual baths in which people are bathed by herbalists with a mixture of herbs and then given herbal and/or lasmami potions to drink. Lasmami is a kind of holy water made in two different ways. A wooden slate inscribed with a specific Quranic verse is hung over a container then washed clean or pieces of paper with the Quarnic inscriptions are soaked in the water- the water collected in these processes is what is called. Lasmami. (Fofana 188)

More so, in a post-colonial, post conflict atmosphere, women’s spiritual self-care alludes to a larger national liberation and transformation movement that demands her participation in a self-reflective process in order to move the nation toward healing. Dr. Philomena Okeke-Ihejirika (2008) [4]4 credits spirituality as source of stability amidst the rise of rapid global movements requiring that people hold onto to something steadfast and reliable.

“Movements of spiritual revival have become global phenomena in response to the contemporary ontological insecurity fostered by rapid shifts, uncertainties and extreme fluidity” (87)

What appears as a spiritual “revival” also represents an external manifestation of women’s inner orientation toward transformation giving birth to a new post-conflict social movement.

Rhetoric and Politics of Recovery

Social healing during and after post – conflict arise out of an individual’s will to inflict change functions as form of recovery that taps into longing for connectedness in a fractured community. However, a forced social healing program urging communities to recover so the nation can “move on” undermines the inner work that must happen first. The rhetoric of post conflict recovery in Africa is often painted with a broad brush of reconciliation, forgiveness and national healing. These concepts appear abstract in the face of most women’s immediate reality. Her life is lumped together with overall national healing. Her personal experiences are simply one of many who survived to tell their story. Religious leaders are complicit in this umbrella approach by promoting healing in a package of confession and apology performances. Should these techniques automatically act as a catalyst for healing across all countries and conflicts? Dr. John Hatch’s essay (2006) [5] on religion and reconciliation in South Africa rightly criticizes how formal religion pollutes recovery because of its unregulated influence in politics.

Hatch’s assessment of reconciliation highlights the blurred lines of religion and politics. Here collective healing trumps individual recovery. Women’s personal transformation challenges the definition of recovery and healing by circumventing traditional patriarchal spiritual guidelines.

Prescribed Healing and Personal Recuperation

Like South Africa, Sierra Leone’s reconciliation process was put in place under the hands of religious leaders and political enforcement. For example, during Sierra Leone’s truth commission, participants were urged to “forgive the rebels” (Schroven 17).[6]6 Recovery and healing are more than a harmonious prescribed notion of forgiveness. Recovery and healing operate on a spectrum of living conditions that make life easier for women. Again the outsider’s gaze and longing for immediate recovery is bound in its own form of neocolonialism. Expecting a community to recuperate via force in a government mandated healing process suppresses the true healing work and pushes recovery further away from the nation’s grasp. Women out of post-conflict nations are moving away from the controlled psychological healing by designing personal pathways toward emotional recovery. Women’s transformation occurs at multiple points along the continuum of trauma. Personal transformation within this socio-cultural context indicates that women are positioned to change their well-being by using their personal networks and resources. Transformation as a spiritual ideology symbolizes the power and plasticity of spiritual beliefs as an easily accessible tool for coping and recovery.

Spirituality alone does not adequately answer how women recover. Spirituality is still mired in patriarchy and gender roles that limit an introspective process toward self- transformation and self re-connection. Yet, when one asks what can we do now, we must also ask what are women living in conflict doing now for themselves? We must always consider how they resolve their own problems and what resources they access to do so. As we in the west draft our action plans and brainstorm for solutions, we must be mindful of the dynamic psycho-spiritual process that each woman must experience in order to rebuild. If we expect our well thought out plans to take root, we need to learn more about the psychological evolutions that are currently underway. Who are the new generation of women who grew up only knowing a country of conflict, how do they rationalize their self in relation to the state? Can Regina Amadi’s theoretical recommendation to follow the “way of our grandmothers” address the mutli-layered challenges of a new era of the self-empowered, self transformed “African Woman”? These questions can only be answered by positioning women to speak for themselves in spaces that can mindfully transform their thoughts into action. As new global female leaders emerge out of Africa, we must not forgo individual development with hopes of a mass healing movement. Post-conflict nations are entering a new era of identity. Women’s individual and collective psychosocial state are critical to long term stability and set the rhythm to which the country will march. Spirituality is currently operating in the places where think tanks, political leaders, non-profit organizations cannot… the inner working of women’s will and commitment to herself and thus the state.

From ACAS Bulletin 83: Sexual and gender based violence in Africa

About the author
Sariane Leigh recently completed the Master of Arts in Women’s Studies, George Washington University. Her work focuses on African Diaspora female responses to trauma and recovery.

Notes

1. Audergon, Arlene ‘Hot Spots: Post-conflict trauma and transformation’, Critical Half Vol. 4, No 1 (July 2006), pp.41-44. Women for Women International.

2. Coulter. C. Social Thought and Commentary: Reflections from the Field: A Girl’s Initiation Ceremony in Northern Sierra Leone Anthropological Quarterly, Vol. 78, No. 2 (Spring, 2005), pp. 431-441. The George Washington University Institute for Ethnographic Research.

3. Ibrahim, Aisha Fofana. “War’s other voices:Testimonies by Sierra Leonean Women.” Ph.D. Dissertation, Illinois State University, United States — Illinois. 2006

4. Okeke-Ihejirika, Philomina E., and Chima J. Korieh (eds). Gendering global transformations: gender, culture, race, and identity. Routledge: New York, 2008.

5. Hatch, John D. Between Religious Visions and Secular Realities:(Dia)logology and the Rhetoric of Reconciliation. ‘Coming to Terms’ with Reconciliation, Working Paper Library. http://global.wisc.edu/reconciliation/library/papers_open/hatch.pdf

6. Schroven, Anita. Women after War: Gender Mainstreaming and the Social Construction of Identity in Contemporary Sierra Leone 2007.

Searching for the will to conscientiously prosecute sexual crimes in Zanzibar

Introduction

The passage of the Sexual Offences (Special Provisions Act) (SOSPA)[1] in 1998 intended to promote the prosecution of crimes of gender based violence (GBV) more broadly. Specifically, it sought to strengthen the protection of victims and survivors of sexual violence. In 2004, the Zanzibar legislature, the Zanzibar House of Representatives, amended SOSPA further including it in Part XV of the 2004 Zanzibar Penal Act with the objective of making the law more readily accessible to functionaries in law enforcement and the judiciary, and therefore facilitate its implementation.

Since the legislative victory, few efforts have been made in the isles to ascertain whether the law is living to its promise of availing victims of GBV better protections and justice. This article seeks to review available case law on sexual crimes to examine the extent justice institutions seek to implement the intention of SOSPA and the Zanzibar Penal Act of 2004. Hopefully, the insights obtained from this inspection will enable activists and public officials consider further legal and extra legal measures necessary to afford victims and survivors of sexual violence greater protection under the law as well as institutionally.

A problem buried in contrast to its enormity

The case law on crimes against morality is scant. For this study, a total of ten cases were available for review. Very few of the cases involving sexual violence that are heard at district and regional courts go on appeal to the High Court. This is in spite of the fact that there is a greater likelihood for miscarriage of justice at courts of first instance. At the time of this research, the cases that were available in the High Court Criminal Registry involved coerced sexual crimes. Most of the cases involved incidents of sexual assault by a male adult on male or female children, mainly adolescent girls.

The few cases that made it to the High Court are often dismissed on technicalities, not so much on the substance of the law. Perhaps for this reason, Zanzibar is yet to develop her own body of precedent with regards to sexual crimes or the standards under which specific sexual crimes would be defined and tried. Moreover, there are very few conviction rates for sexual crimes. Among the cases reviewed there was only one conviction in the case of R v. Mzee Abdulla Suleiman or the Kitangi case which we will refer to later. This begs the question of whether the new law facilitates convictions of people charged with sexual crimes or makes it harder to convict and punish them as envisaged by the law.

On the whole, reviewed cases indicate that fewer women report sexual crimes against their persons, a fact also established by the GBV Zanzibar Study[2]. This may be partly due to the fact that they may feel ashamed to publicize the violation against their person in a society that predominantly still blames the victim for bringing the misfortune on themselves. But perhaps a bigger factor is the prevailing practice to establish whether a sexual offense has taken place or not, one that requires the deflowering of a girl or woman. Since women are less likely to be virgins, they cannot prove forced entry!

Cases in the Zanzibar High Court Criminal Registry show that there is a high incidence of child sexual abuse in the isles, a fact that is also confirmed by the GBV Zanzibar Study. The case files indicate that the children were being sexually assaulted on a regular basis. Many of these children are under 12, with the oldest sexually assaulted child, being a girl of 16 while the youngest, at the time of the trial was eight years old. The suspects are usually people very close to the children, in a care relationship to the child like an uncle, a madrasa teacher,[3] a neighbour, which may explain the fact it takes a while before a parent becomes aware of the crime being committed.[4]

Cases doctored to fail

In a number of cases, charges against the accused are dropped because the court finds that based on the evidence the accused has been wrongly charged. [5] In a few cases the charges are amended often from a more serious charge of rape to a less serious charge of indecent assault. For example, in R vs. Khalifa Hassa Kaita, the charge sheet was amended to read indecent assault even though sex had clearly happened for fear that a rape charge would not stand. In view of the fact that this case was filed after the law was amended, requiring a minimum standard of proof to convict an accused person, one wonders why a charge of grave sexual assault under §156 was not substituted instead considering that the crime is more severe and the standard of proof less strict.

Changing the charges routinely results in fewer convictions of those accused of sexual crimes; or in case of conviction, to the accused being tried on a lesser charge, which ultimately attracts lower prison terms or compensation amounts. If this is the case, it begs the question why the Director of Public Prosecution (the DPP) who commonly tries criminal cases on behalf of the state is not willing to revise a loosing strategy in protecting victims and survivors of gender based violence.

The records on file, as well as the GBV Zanzibar Study, suggest strongly that a weak prosecution of GBV related cases, especially crimes of a sexual nature begins not in the court room but with the arrests and drawing up charges. As it is police officers and the DPP seem to be fumbling with the law, not being quite sure what charge will make a conviction stick. Alternatively, it is they, and not the court, who rule on the merit of the case deciding what charge is appropriate or not to convict the accused. Moreover, it is questionable why the prosecution feels obliged to charge the suspect narrowly when the law allows for multiple charges to be drawn up increasing the risk of being found guilty under multiple counts instead of a single charge.

Importantly, the weakness in drawing up appropriate charges against persons accused of committing sexual crimes may indicate the presence of bigger issue in need of resolution. Chiefly, it could indicate that the law is impractical as it is and may need to be amended to facilitate the course of justice, especially for victims and survivors of violence. Secondly, it could suggest that there is an urgent need to strengthen the capacities of prosecutors in drawing charges and prosecuting sexual crimes.

Equally important to review is the practice of law enforcement functionaries in how they handle sexual assault cases. The GBV Zanzibar Study indicated that many cases fail for lack of strong evidence to make the charges stick beyond a reasonable doubt. In the ten cases reviewed, in only one was the child examined within twenty-four hours of the assault, something that facilitated conviction . Instead the records show how evidence is being destroyed, many times unknowingly, such as by parents or guardians washing the child; but also because of poor judgment of the attending police officer or the investigating officer.[8] Indeed, it is not uncommon for these public officers to delay investigating the crime or seek to make a deal between the parties so that there is less work to do and they gain some benefit from the deal.

Furthermore, while activists have been demanding for legal institutions to deal more forthrightly with rape incidents, especially incidents committed against children this is far from the reality in Zanzibar . Although the amount of bail has been increased, none of the case files reviewed charged bail under USD100, about one and a half months salary. To post bail, an accused demands two sureties and a letter from the Sheha[10], to guarantee the applicant. In most cases the Sheha does not object to the posting of bail, even if it concerns someone who is notorious for sexually abusing children or for harassing women.

Prosecuting the crime is also rendered difficult on account of the jurisdiction of courts. While the statute prescribes maximum sentences, in actual fact these are hardly pronounced because courts of first instances have limited jurisdiction in passing out actual sentences. For example the maximum sentence a court of first instance can hand down is 7 years imprisonment. Consequently, sentences passed are not as harsh as envisaged under the Act, ranging from a few years in jail, with or without corporal punishment.

Applying an uncertain standard of proof

To prosecute a rape crime the court requires a prima facie case of rape. This means that there must be proof that there was carnal knowledge which is established and corroborated by penetration. However, the current law does not specify the object of penetration, although it is assumed to be the male sexual organ. Accordingly, under the law, women cannot be accused of rape.

The law requires proof of illicit or unlawful sex to establish a carnal crime. This is established by proving that the parties are not legally married or separated; and that both have capacity to consent to the sexual act. Also it is immaterial, in law, whether or not there is ejaculation or force. Yet, the practice of courts has been to neglect this legal standard and to instead apply a more personalized standard. Thus while in at least seven of the cases reviewed there was proof of penetration, the court considered the fact that there was no semen to associate the accused with the crime when making a ruling. In another instance, prior sexual activity raised doubt as to the “immediate” incidence of rape such that the cases of children who were found to habitually engage in sexual activity by the court were dismissed because there was no obvious incidence of bruising or tearing which coincidentally are not the legal standards to determine the crime of rape.

Furthermore, in at least seven of the cases the court dismissed the case not because it failed to establish that intercourse did take place, but because it suspected that there was a more sinister motive on the part of the parent or guardian of the victim to bring the case. This was the situation when a mother tried to bring her son’s madrasa teacher before the law after she suspected him of sodomizing her son. Effectively, the legal battle ceases to be about the victim, and is transformed to be about settling scores between the accused and the parents of the victim. In other instances the court is influenced by the testimony of persons who do not have authority to give expert opinion. For example in one case the court followed the opinion of the victim’s mother who concluded that there was no penetration because her daughter could walk by herself and not because a medical examination had proved otherwise.[11]

Other standards inferred from the cases reviewed include shifting the onus, even in making an arrest against a suspect, on the person alleging the crime![12] Since almost all of these cases involve minors it suggests strongly that the onus is being shifted to a person who legally is incapable of consenting to the crime to prove that a crime was indeed committed against their person contrary to the law which criminalizes intercourse with a minor even if the minor consented to the sexual act; or if the minor misrepresented their age.[13] Also, the law rules out consent obtained by giving money to a child or through threats.[14]

Corroboration is required and established if another party witnesses the crime or becomes privy to the information first hand such as by the confession of the accused person.

All the while the law does not allow corroboration from the child, who often is the only party who can speak with authority about what was done to them. Otherwise, there is the problem of hearsay in admissibility of evidence. It is interesting to note that while risk to contaminate others with HIV/AIDS aids influences courts to make a conviction to deter others from the practice, not a single court ordered an HIV/AIDS test or other types of tests to determine if the child has been infected with STDs/STIs, even where evidence suggests that the child is emitting some foul discharge.[15]

Powerlessness, Vulnerability and Equal Protection

Consistently, the court penalizes children for not reporting the crime immediately after it happens without regard to the Statute of limitation.[16] This is done in spite of the fact that numerous studies confirm that given the nature of the crime, it is quite normal for children to feel angry and even recluse about what has happened to them.[17] . The Lancet, for instance, notes that most forms of violence are not unique incidents but are ongoing and can even be continued for decades.

The question of informed consent influences not only public opinion but also the bench in so far as sexual crimes are concerned. In the only case where there is an outright conviction, the Kitangi case, the boy was considered too young to agree to a sexual encounter. The Kitangi case involved a 50 year old man accused of sodomizing a five year old boy. This followed a protracted period of media reports of young boys being abused sexually. Mzee Abdulla Suleiman was consequently apprehended and convicted on the evidence of his young victim. Also, the fact that there was bruising on the young boy indicated to the court that he was forcefully entered. Nevertheless, courts have not always ruled in favour of abused children more so when they are assumed old enough to acquiesce to the advances of the adult, even if in fact they are still minors under the law as is demonstrated by the bulk of cases cited herein.

Victims and survivors of violence appear as a star witness in their own case. What they say depends very much on what they are asked by the prosecutor. An accused person can seek mitigation for his crimes. This makes it hard for victims to emphasize the gravity of the crime committed against their person but allows an aggressor the benefit of negotiating for their liberty/life something a young person when violated is denied.

Whereas the UN In-depth Study on VAW acknowledges that VAW is both a cause and a consequence of deeply ingrained inequality between men and women the law and legal practice evidences favouritism on account of sex in addressing incidents of sexual crimes. For example bail for crimes involving sodomy, which mostly involve young boys, is routinely posted higher than in cases involving rape which mostly involve young girls.[18] Also the likelihood to believe and find in favour of a male victim is greater than in cases female children are defiled. Yet medical personnel interviewed at different locations for the GBV Zanzibar Study, as did the reviewed cases, confirmed that a high number of female children exhibit prolonged sexual activity, strongly suggesting that underage girls are subjected to protracted incidences of sexual abuse which remain largely unaddressed.

Zanzibari society seems more likely to tolerate sexual activity with minor girls, as long as they are married to someone. However, the law prohibits older but unmarried girls i.e. “spinsters” engaging in sexual activity lest they loose their chastity. No similar concern is shown towards male children. Moreover support services for survivors of GBV are inexistent, inadequate or shunned (Banda, 2003). The impunity perpetrators too often enjoy results in part from the trivialization of GBV issues. Likewise, the victims of abuse may be threatened during or after legal process something that may affect their willingness to persist with the legal process.

Conclusion

Sexual Offenses (Special Provisions) Act is a testament to legislative reforms in light of growing sexual crimes against young children of both sexes, as well as women. Exiting anomalies in dealing with GBV institutionally, though acknowledged by public officials and civil society generally, continue unchecked. The impasse in firmly dealing with GBV crimes may directly impact people’s willingness to pursue and prosecute GBV crimes. Also, the reluctance of judicial officers as well as law enforcement officers to proactively address the weaknesses in law and in practice suggests that while there is a revolutionary piece of legislation to tackle GBV crimes, specifically sexual crimes, there lacks a will among those vested with the responsibility to interpret and implement the law in a manner that ascertains that the legal objective is met.

From ACAS Bulletin 83: Sexual and gender based violence in Africa

About the author

Trained in Law (LLM from Georgetown) with a focus on Human Rights and Women’s Law, Salma Maoulidi is the Executive Director of Sahiba-Sisters Foundation, a women’s development and advocacy network working mainly with Muslim and provincial women and youth with members in 12 regions of Tanzania concerned with the impact of cultural and religious discourses on women. Salma has over 20 years in the women’s and social movement in Tanzania working on and writing about legal and development related issues from an African woman’s feminist-activist perspective. Salma was one of the legal experts providing input from CSOs in Tanzania that contributed to the SOSPA reforms. She continues to use her experience working as an activist and as a consultant in various local and regional forums. Furthermore, she has initiated and coordinated a number of grass roots based Gender Based Violence campaigns including the lattest one against sexual corruption at the workplace involving women in low paying jobs in four regions. In 2007, she was one of the lead consultants for the Ministry of Labour, Youth, Women and Children Development to undertake the fist GBV prevalence study in Zanzibar.

References

A. Publications

Ali Hassan and Usu Mallya (2004) A study of the Policies and Laws related to Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights in Zanzibar, the Ministry of Youth, Employment, women and Children Development, Zanzibar project for advocacy and gender

Charlotte Watts and Cathy Zimmerman (2002), “Violence Against Women: global scope and magnitude” in the Lancet Vol. 359 pp.1232-37

Chris Maina Peter,(2003) “Legal Aid and Access to Justice in Zanzibar: Examining Criteria for Provisions of Legal Assistance” in Perspectives on Legal Aid and Access to Justice in Zanzibar, Chris Maina Peter and Haroub Othman (eds.)

Division for the Advancement of Women (2005), Secretary-General’s study on violence against women, 61st session of the General Assembly Item 60(a) on advancement of women Forthcoming as document A/61/122/Add

Human Rights Watch (1994), Criminal Injustice: Violence Against Women in Brazil and America Watch Report.

Ministry of Community Development Gender and Children (2001), Stop Gender Violence: A national Plan of Action for the Prevention and Eradication of VAW and Children 2001-2015

Salma Maoulidi and Usu Mallya (2007) Study on GBV prevalence in Zanzibar, Ministry of Labour, Youth Women and Children Development.

S.F Rumisha (2004), “Child Violence and Sexual Abuse in Tanzania”, Tanzania Health Research Bulletin Vol.6, No. 1 pp.30-35

Sarah Venis and Richard Horton, “Violence against women: a global burden”, The Lancet, Volume 359, Issue 9313, 6 April 2002, Page 1172

United Nations Division for the Advancement of Women (2006) Ending Violence against Women: from words to action. Study by the Secretary-General available at http://www.un.org/womenwatch/daw/vaw/SGstudyvaw.htm

WHO (2005) Multi- Country Study on Women’s Health and Domestic Violence against Women and Initial Results on Prevalence, Health Outcomes and Women’s Responses available at http://www.who.int/gender/violence/multicountry/en/

WHO (2006) “Global Estimates of Health Consequences due to Violence against Children”. Background paper for the United Nations Study on Violence against Children A/61/299

B. Statutes

1. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, Education Act No.6, 1982
2. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Sexual Offenses (Special Provisions) Act No 7 of 1998 Cap 13
3. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Penal Act No 6 of 2004 Cap 13
4. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Interpretation of Laws and General Clauses Act No. 7 of 1984
5. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Spinsters and Single Parent Children Protection Act, No 4 of 2004
6. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Kadhis Court Act, Act No 3 of 1985
7. The Laws of Zanzibar, Evidence Decree (1917) Cap 5
8. The Laws of Zanzibar, Penal Decree (1934) Cap 13

C. Case Law

1. R vs. Mzee Abdulla Suleiman, Criminal Case No.224 of 1995
2. R vs. Abdulla Orasta Nanduya, Criminal Case No.53 of 2003
3. R vs. Abrahman Suweidi Samalia, Criminal Case No.332 of 2002
4. R vs. Ahmed Twahiri Ali, Criminal Case No.28 of 2002
5. R vs. Ame Ramadhan Muombwa, Criminal Case No.64 of 2003
6. R vs. Amton Rafiel Saimon, Criminal Case No.113 of 2002
7. R vs. Khalifa Hassan Kaita, Criminal Case No. 49 of 2005
8. R vs. Mohammed Amour Ally, Criminal Case No.116 of 2001
9. R vs. Mzee Amiri, Criminal Case No.11 of 2002
10. R vs. Shehe Juma Ame, Criminal Case No.119 of 2001

ACRONMYS

AIDS Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome
CSO Civil Society Organization
DAW Division on the Advancement of Women
DV Domestic Violence
e.g. for example
i.e. that is
GBV Gender Based Violence
HIV Human Immunodeficiency Virus
HRW Human Rights Watch
MLYWCD Ministry of Labour, Youth, Women and Children Development
MoHSW Ministry of Health and Social Welfare
PF3 Police Form 3
R Republic
SOSPA Sexual Offences (Special Provisions Act)
STDs Sexually Transmitted Diseases
STIs Sexually Transmitted Infections
UN United Nations
VAW Violence Against Women
vs. versus
WHO World Health Organization
Tshs. Tanzanian Shilling
USD United States Dollars

DEFINITION OF TERMS

The bench: refers to members of the judiciary hearing a judicial matter i.e. magistrates or judges.

Kadhi: A Muslim judge with authority to conduct marriages. In Zanzibar it is an official position.

Sheha: a government representative at the basic level of governance in the local government structure in Zanzibar i.e. a neighbourhood.

The Isles: refers to the Islands of Unguja and Pemba making up the semi autonomous state of Zanzibar.

Notes

1. Act No. 7 of 1998.

2. The Zanzibar GBV Prevalence Study sponsored by the Ministry of Labour, Youth Women and Children Development.

3. A religious school teacher.

4. A similar finding was made by the Horizon Study where among the 21 women who reported being sexually abused before the age of twelve, eight were abuse by a family members, five were abused by a neighbour, three were abused by a family friend, two by a male worker in the house and two by a stranger and one by a male friend.

5. R vs. Amton Rafiel Saimon, for example, the accused was charged for rape but court ruled he was charged under a wrong section and he must have been charged for defamation.

6. See for example the case of R vs. Khalifa Hassan where the original charge sheet stated the offence as kubaka or rape but was actually convicted on indecent assault.

7. R vs. Abrahman Suwedi Samalia

8. When someone goes to the police with a complaint, the first person they meet is a desk officer who simply records the complaint. The case is then assigned to an investigating officer. Many times connecting with an investigating officer can take days.

9. Some for instance want the crime to be equated with murder and to deny those accused of sexual violation bail especially since granting them bail ultimately results in their freedom.

10. An official presiding over the smallest administrative unit of local government, the Shehia.

11. R vs. Khalifa Hassan Kaita.

12. In R vs. Shehe Juma Ame, for example, an imbecile was raped in her home. Her brother caught them in the act but in dismissing the suit the court reasoned that the brother should have caught and overpowered the suspect in the act, since he was in a compromising state.

13. This is a significant departure from the old law where a suspect could claim being misled as to the age of his female victim.

14. §145 (B).

15. In R vs. Ame Ramadhani court establishes presence of vaginal and anal sex

16. In one case the Magistrate dismissed the case because the victim reported the offence to his grandmother on the third day while the Statute of Limitation in criminal cases does not place such restriction in prosecuting an offence once it becomes known.

17. See for example S.F Rumisha (2004), “Child Violence and Sexual Abuse in Tanzania” or WHO (2006) “Global Estimates of Health Consequences due to Violence against Children”.

18. e.g. in case of R vs. Ahmed Twahiri bail was set at Tshs.500,000 while bail was posted at the same amount in only one rape case. Otherwise the bail rates were relatively less for other types of sexual crimes e.g. indecent assault at about Tshs. 100-300

Zanzibar GBV advocacy: important lessons for future legal reform strategies

Background

The passage of the Convention of the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) in 1979 revolutionized advocacy for women’s rights in global, national and local spaces. Subsequent global conferences on women, especially those convened by the United Nations, squarely put women’s rights issues on national agendas. Specifically, the naming of violence against women a human rights violation to be considered as a moral and legal crime by CEDAW, the Vienna Declaration and the Beijing Platform for Action (BoA) reinvigorated local activism against gender based violence (GBV).

The GBV concept has its roots in feminist epistemology, in its articulation of women’s human rights. Specifically, it focuses on violations directed against women and other vulnerable groups and attempts to assess:

•the Provision of GBV services by the state as well as other actors. These include post-rape care; medical care; and legal aid and support services;

•efforts to Prevent GBV by the state as well as relevant actors either through education programmes, putting in place an infrastructure that minimizes incidents of abuse e.g. screening of offenders; or the reduction of secondary victimization;

•the level of Protection afforded to victims and survivors of GBV such as affording them with safe houses or protection orders; and

•State keenness to Promote GBV services such as by making the necessary budgetary and human resource allocations, at all levels, to GBV related services; and enacting and adopting relevant GBV laws and policies. The punitive aspect of the law is an important indicator of the state’s willingness to enforce laws.

Kithaka (2008) describes sexual offences legislations cropping up in the region in the last two decades as intended to prevent and protect people from harmful and unlawful sexual acts. Armed with these International Human Rights instruments, women human rights activists around the world campaigned for legal reform to bring local laws up to universal standards. Chiefly, they engaged the state demanding it to take action to safeguard the personal integrity, dignity, liberty of women and children as required under international law. One area women in Tanzania immediately began organizing around was against sexual crimes committed against women and children. The concern was to protect women against crimes perpetrated by the state or its agents as well as by intimate partners.

Breaking the silence on various forms of violence against women was the primary advocacy strategy deployed by activists resulting in three main outcomes. Foremost, it led to the increased reporting of GBV incidents in communities, especially among women who had suffered prolonged abuse . Secondly, it led to there being increased attention, outreach services and advocacy on these issues by civil society organizations as well as concerned citizens ensuring greater media coverage of the issues. Notably, the increased advocacy led to the passage of the Sexual Offences Special Provisions Act (SOSPA) in 1998, the first popularly instigated legislative initiative in Tanzania.

More than ten years after the passage of SOSPA, how has the law enhanced protections for vulnerable groups? In this paper, I will use the experience of legal reforms in Zanzibar to explore this question. Specifically, I will look at how the justice system translates and gives force to the legislative intention of the law. The study and conclusions are informed by an extensive review of laws governing morality as well as reported cases in the High Court Criminal Division Registry. Information was also derived from interviews with functionaries in law enforcement and the judiciary, particularly those who deal with GBV matters in Zanzibar, carried out between 2005 and 2006. Another important reference is the GBV prevalence study undertaken in Zanzibar on behalf of the ministry responsible for women and children affairs in 2007.[3]

The genesis of GBV advocacy in Zanzibar [4]

Compared to the Mainland, GBV advocacy in Zanzibar took off much later. This could be explained to, among other things, the reluctance to bare sexually explicit content in public, as well as the relative low reporting of GBV incidents in law enforcement bodies and the media. Like on the Mainland, it would be the work of the Tanzania Media Women’s Association’s (TAMWA) Zanzibar Office that would set the spark. The association’s coverage of the government’s practice to incarcerate pregnant un-wed mothers surfaced some of the human rights violations women and children continued to endure in the isles contrary to the spirit of CEDAW. An effectively orchestrated media campaign called for legal reforms against discriminatory legal provisions in various laws that penalized or discriminated against women on account of their sex.

At another level the ‘outing’ of sexual offenses can be linked to the dual pandemic of HIV/AIDS and poverty which were intensifying in the early nineties as Tanzania gradually abandoned state sponsored welfare policies and programmes. The Tanzanian media raised the alarm about “cleansing” practices to either rid oneself of the HIV virus or the poverty bug. Journalists linked the rapid increase of sexual abuse of young children to HIV/AIDS after they learnt that some waganga[5] advised people infected with HIV that sleeping with a virgin, would cure them of the virus. Equally, they advised the emerging crop of local businessmen that sleeping with young virgin girls or boys would increase their luck in business. While many women and children were being sexually violated some were being killed for their sexual body parts, another practice associated with poverty cures.

In Zanzibar, the arrest and incarceration of one Bwana Kitangi who was long suspected of defiling and sodomizing young children provided an impetus for civil society organizations to pursue legal reforms in the law with vital support from the Ministry responsible for women and children affairs. Certainly, the link between women’s vulnerability to violence and HIV infection prompted calls for greater measures to minimize women’s and children’s risk to HIV infection through sexual violence. Likewise, the egregious nature of sexual crimes against women e.g. rape, gang rape, sodomy, ravishing of sexual parts and the like raised added security concerns for women.

The Sexual Offenses (Special Provisions) Act No. 7 of 1998

The Sexual Offenses (Special Provisions) Act was passed amidst public outcry and intense lobbying against what many decried as immoral crimes committed against vulnerable groups. Although women were disproportionately affected, the attacks on children helped to win public sympathy over the issue.[6] Hither to its passage activists’ attempt to prosecute abusers of sexual or domestic violence often failed because of laws that were outdated or inappropriate to protect certain groups like children and people with disabilities. Similarly, the successful prosecution of GBV cases failed due to the dismissive attitudes of the larger society, as well as the inability of law enforcement bodies to take GBV issues seriously.

Before the passage of SOSPA in 1998 sexual offences were contained in the Penal Decree of 1934, a law reflective of colonial preoccupation with morality. Therefore, SOSPA amends this law fundamentally by modernizing it. Foremost, the Act adopts gender sensitive language. Also, it includes both minimum and maximum sentences and expands the option for punishment to include imprisonment, corporal punishment, fine and compensation. In fact, SOSPA makes compensation mandatory upon conviction (§121) a development that could be read to recognize the wrong and harm done to survivors of violence au lieu of blaming them for the violence as was often the case.[8]

In many ways, the SOSPA reflects ongoing concerns with rising and new forms of crimes committed against women and children, not only in Tanzania but across the world such as trafficking for sexual and labour exploitation[9] ; sexual harassment and prostitution; and cruelty towards children including compelling them to undergo FGM. [10] It is also an attempt by the government to stay abreast of developments in international Human Rights Law. For example, §148 raises the age of consent to a sexual act for girls to eighteen years while the former law excused such acts, if committed on girls as young as 14, as long as the defiler believed she was older.

The1998 Act requires a lower standard to prove sexual crimes. Similarly, punishment imposed is more severe. New crimes are also introduced in the law. For example, prostitution, defined as offering the (human) body for consideration, is introduced as an offence and procurement of prostitution is explicitly recognized as a crime. The Act criminalizes non-consensual sex for minors and women including consent obtained by giving money to a child or through threats. [11] Also, it doubles the punishment for acts of gross indecency against minors compared to people of the same age.[12]

Sentences under the 1998 law are much stricter than the former law. Conviction for rape (§120), as well as gang rape (§121A), for instance, is life imprisonment. The law does away with the requirement for corroboration to prove rape demanding only proof of penetration regardless of there being ejaculation or the use of force. Moreover, an accessory to the crime of rape receives the same punishment as the offender. An attempt to carnally know a boy or girl, if convicted, attracts a 25 year sentence with corporal punishment.

The Penal Act of 2004

In 2004, the Zanzibar legislature took the additional step to include SOSPA within the Penal Act with a dual objective: First it would make the law more readily accessible to functionaries in law enforcement and the judiciary; and secondly it would ensure that SOSPA has the same status as crimes in the principal legislation. Offences against morality are contained in Part XV of the 2004 Penal Act and comprise of 39 sections i.e. §124 through §163. Although most provisions of the 1934 and 1998 legislations are retained, there are significant additions to the 2004 law, reflecting changing social realities, as well as political considerations.

Notably, the 2004 Act introduces new crimes mainly of marital rape (§125(2) (a) and (e); lesbianism (§153); the sexual exploitation of children (§155); same sex marriage (§157); and sexual harassment (§158). However, the law fails to provide the standard to prove a number of offences essentially making it difficult to charge anyone with the crime. For example, under Sections 132, 150 and 152, sodomy is a crime when performed against young boys not when done against women and girls. Nevertheless, the law demonstrates a willingness to break the silence against violence rather than keeping sexual crimes under wraps. Also, it shows a willingness to prosecute people who are otherwise held in esteem like public officials (§125(3) (a)); officials in remand homes (§125(3) (b)); hospital officials (§125(3) (c)); and traditional healers or religious leaders (§125(3) (d)).

While there is an attempt to use gender neutral and gender inclusive language in the law, the law still demonstrates a bias towards the male sexual norm. For example, homosexuality between men is punished more severely (14 to 25 years and a fine at Tshs.700,000 about USD700) than is homosexuality between women (five years and Tshs.500,000 fine about USD500). Moreover, sexual crimes committed against males attract higher sentences than those committed against other groups including women or people with disabilities.

Thus, anyone who indecently assaults a woman or girl, upon conviction is liable to 3 to 14 years in jail (§ 131 (1) and (3) while for those who assault young boys are liable upon conviction to a jail term of not less than twenty five years (§152). Provisions of this kind indicate a male centric notion of ‘natural’ sexual relations. In the present context of increased advocacy on sexuality based rights such provisions pose an equal protection challenge as to the criminalization to a life style choice between consenting adults.

Holes in the Law

GBV laws are scattered in various legislations including SOSPA, the Penal Code/Act, the Education Act, the Law Marriage Act and the Spinster and Single Parent Children Protection Act 2005. However, as a concept GBV is a much broader than what is currently contained in the legal framework where the focus is mainly on sexual crimes. Despite the presence of a robust legislation, reports of GBV crimes, especially sexual crimes, remain high while the conviction rates for sexual crimes and GBV generally remain low in the isles. The Zanzibar GBV study established that 40% of sexual offenses cases fail due to insufficient evidence. Additionally, culprits escape the arm of the law due to institutional weaknesses such as case delays or transfers, improper collection and storage of evidence, faulty charges and conflicting laws and jurisdiction.

A major finding in the Zanzibar GBV Study is the serious conflict between the substantive law with procedure. For instance, the Penal Act provides for a maximum sentence of thirty years or life for rape, but courts of first instance where most matters are heard only have jurisdiction to pronounce sentences of between 3 to 7 years. Most cases heard at the lower courts are rarely appealed availing little opportunity for justice to be done. In addition, whereas GBV cases should normally be heard under criminal jurisdiction, the GBV study found that incidents of GBV are addressed in formal and informal structures. Formal structures comprised of the Sheha’s Office; Courts; the Police; the Kadhi’s Court; and Hospitals.

Informal structures comprised of family and religious structures. Each structure is guided by its own set of laws and rules. Medical staff, for example, comply mostly with medical guidelines when carrying out examinations on survivors of sexual assault with very little guidance on what the law says about such assaults. An added dimension to GBV prosecution is Zanzibar’s dual court structure: the normal common law courts and religious courts. GBV is a criminal matter and thus subject exclusively to criminal jurisdiction. However, in practice, the Kadhis Court which is only empowered to hear civil matters regularly hears and adjudicates over GBV matters. Religious structures treat cases of sexual assault as civil cases with little indication that they recognize them as crimes under the law.

Furthermore, public institutions like the police, local government or hospital don’t always treat GBV as a cognizable offence. One Sheha, for example confessed that he took suspects to the police station supposedly only “to scare them so that they realize the gravity of the problem”. The fact that many cases are dropped before they are heard by a competent prosecutor or a court of law is indicative of how the law enforcement machinery approaches sexual crimes. Most institutions investigated were not proactive about addressing GBV incidences but acted only if moved. And even then, rather than enforce the law, most institutions were happy to follow the whims of the families when dealing with GBV incidences.

A review of cases of sexual offences in the High Court Criminal Registry reveals that few victims of sexual crimes are compensated for the harm endured. What purpose is then served to have a progressive legislation when the same is impracticable? Is the situation just a matter of legislative oversight or does it reflect a general reluctance to act decisively on sexual crimes because doing so would implicate men who often assume the role of moral policemen, and by so doing, defeat the notion of women being the weak moral element ?

Early in 2009 the Tanzania Court of Appeals, the highest court on the land circulated its draft rules for comment. These rules deal mostly with procedural aspects of civil and criminal cases. A number of lawyers in Zanzibar complained about the absence of relevant rules in key legislation suggesting that courts in the isles operate without the benefit of clear operational guidance. Anne Kithaka also notes that in Kenya many sections in the legal framework are not operational for lack of regulations to make them effective. For instance Section 39 of SOA requires the Registrar of the High Court to keep a register and data bank of convicted sexual offenders. Likewise Section 47 empowers the Minister to prescribe regulations on the contents of the data bank. Section 329 (A) requires the Chief Justice to make rules and regulations to guide the manner in which Victim Impact Statements can be received and used by the court.

Absence of Effective Institutional Responses

Compared to other countries in the region, Tanzania made quick and great strides in so far as legislating against GBV, especially in fighting sexual violence . Nonetheless, efforts to criminalize the same have attracted much resistance, more so from the legislators and even the public officials whose obligation is to enforce the law. While speaking to the national legislature in the January 2009 Parliamentary session, the Minister of Justice is quoted in the media to call for reduced sentences for the crime of rape . Surprisingly, this same Minister, then a Deputy Minister, is quoted in an earlier news piece admitting that at 15 girls are still biologically and psychologically immature to marry or have sex .

Yet, cases of sexual and other gender related crimes committed against women and children inundate the ministry responsible for women and children and various civil society actors . Moreover, over 75% of all public institutions interviewed during the Zanzibar GBV Study reported receiving cases involving gender based violence (GBV). In over half of these institutions GBV matters comprise 41% of the caseload while in four of the 12 institutions interviewed they constitute over 50% of its caseload. All institutions identified sexual assault as the highest type of complaint coming before them. Attempted rape was identified by 11 institutions, in some institutions comprising about 30% of the caseload.

Women are more likely to report GBV crimes to institutions. Girls are more likely to be victims of sexual violence than women or male children. Interviews held with medical personnel in various district hospitals in Unguja and Pemba confirmed that a high number of female children exhibit prolonged sexual activity which suggests protracted incidences of sexual abuse which is largely unaddressed. The same was confirmed in law reports. Even so, the Zanzibar GBV study consistently found medical examiners not reporting to court to give evidence or prosecutors who rarely gave other functionaries feedback on outcomes of cases. This has given rise to a situation where departments addressing GBV are constantly at logger heads with the ministry responsible for women and children or civil society organizations, the blame game comprising a major feature of the institutional relationship.

Similarly, the study found that local government and religious officials regularly inhibit the law from taking its course. In case of rape or sexual assault they preside over hastily arranged marriages on the demand of the girl’s parents, the concern being to save the situation at hand not to comply with the law. Other than the fact that such a practice forces the girl to relive a traumatic experience, marrying the girl to the rapist, not only rewards the criminal but also attempts to legalize his crime. These marriages are short lived and often leave women and girls destitute, raising young families on their own.

The lack of an enforcement and monitoring mechanism fails to ensure compliance with the law. As matters stand the victim or survivor of violence stands alone in that they have no automatic right to legal representation or other types of legal and psychotic support.

Sexual offenders and GBV perpetrators operate with impunity mainly because national-level responses to GBV remain weak, if at all existent. In Zanzibar, there is not a single institution dedicated to GBV survivors or victims. Also, public institutions that could help women like the ministry responsible for women are toothless to enforce most provisions of GBV law like maintenance in case of neglect of children.

Certainly, the effective prosecution of sexual crimes under the law requires different actors at different levels complimenting one another in making and substantiating a legal case. In reality, there is very little interaction and cooperation between these bodies in prosecuting GBV crimes. Presently, there is no connection between social work, law and medicine something that makes an integrated approach to legal and social issues in the medical field impracticable. Overall, there is little effort to monitor compliance with GBV law in public institutions. Moreover, the absence of reliable data on GBV incidence means that it is difficult to establish the impact if any of available measures. Also it results in weak institutional responses denying women, girls and children survivors of GBV legal relief. GBV victims suffer in guilt and silence, allowing the perpetrators of GBV to abuse other victims with impunity.

Despite the move to merge SOSPA provisions in the Penal Act, laws related to GBV are not readily available to all law enforcement functionaries. The Zanzibar GBV study found that 70% of people interviewed in institutions report not having copies of any laws related to GBV as opposed to 30% with the relevant laws. An equal number of functionaries report never having read or going over any of the relevant GBV provisions. Additionally, most judicial, health and administrative personnel have not been trained in applying provisions related to GBV law. Although some magistrates believed it was enough to know the law to apply it effectively, few appreciated that by their nature GBV crimes required additional skills to enable legal personnel and the police to effectively work with a survivor or victim of GBV lest they relapse to old habits. Also, functionaries need specialized training in sexual abuse crimes so that they do not omit important medical-legal information crucial in proving the crime as discovered by the Medical Legal Institute in Brazil.

Prevailing Attitudes vis-à-vis the Law

Ann Njogu suggests strongly that VAW and the violation of women’s rights, at peace time as well as during conflicts, is indicative of a crisis in masculinities. Rosemary Okello on her part attributes incidents of gender violence to gender inequalities. Public awareness and knowledge about GBV remains low in the larger Zanzibar society resulting in many cases being unreported; or summarily dismissed as petty when reported. In the Zanzibar GBV Study, more than 65% of individual respondents did not know of any law related to GBV while about 40% of institutional informants claimed never hearing of SOSPA.

Values, embedded in culture, religion and patriarchy very much influence the outlook of the law with regards to regulating the moral framework in the isles. For example, the Spinster and Single Parent Children Protection Act of 2005 absolves men from a moral responsibility with regards the consequences of an illicit sexual act. It only requires he maintains the child until it reaches eighteen (sections 5(1), 8 and 9). However, and perhaps borrowing from Islamic jurisprudence, the law does not expect the father to have a protracted relationship with the child, stopping the maintenance order if he marries the mother.

Parents whose daughters have been defiled are mostly concerned with saving face, a preoccupation entertained by law enforcement bodies. Accordingly, the rapist may be forced to marry the girl; or the two families may come to some settlement about the unborn child. Generally, sexual Offences against minors attract lower fines compared to say those imposed on consenting adults accused of homosexuality. Sex with a minor is only discouraged if such act occurs between people who are not married since it is acceptable that pubescent girls can be married off.

A 2005 WHO Study found that 50% of women have experienced intimate partner violence. According to the TDHS 2004 violence is an accepted part of the male- female relationship. Women can be beaten if she burns the meal, argues with her husband, leaves the home without his knowledge, neglects the children or if she refuses to have sex with him. Anne Kithaka (2008) notes the subtle discrimination in the legal framework whereby marital status and cultural relativism are being used to deny a certain section of women constituency from the communal calabash of justice.

The Law Contrasted with Judicial Practice

In the Zanzibar GBV Study, 31% of informants working in institutions dealing with GBV reported not using the Penal Act in matters concerning GBV. Subsequent interviews and case reviews reveals that the prosecution and the bench in Zanzibar use their discretion more readily than the law when handling GBV crimes as demonstrated in the following case:

A 17 year old girl was raped by her mother’s lover. The magistrate issued a lower sentence because he established that prior to the rape, the girl was already sexually active albeit not with the rapist. He was doubly prejudiced when, at the time of the trial, he found she was pregnant with another man’s child. He also admits taking into consideration the fact that the rapist was known to the household. Because he could not bear sending a 27 year old man to prison for raping a promiscuous girl, he handed a sentence of 7 years!

Additionally, court officials still required corroboration to prove rape even though the legal standard is solely proof of penetration. One female magistrate interviewed justified the importance of corroboration for those who alleged sexual violence. “If there is no corroboration”, she explained, “Men will be imprisoned on vendetta”. Routinely, legal and health personnel require evidence of bruises or the use of force to prove rape even though the law recognizes the possibility of rape in instances where a party may be tricked or coerced into having carnal knowledge, such as through false representation or being drugged.

Public uproar over sexual crimes remains great but the quantity of reported cases hardly reflects the gravity the matter. Legal practitioners consulted during the research blamed the society for being unwilling to prosecute such crimes. For example, a Regional Magistrate asserted that during her time at the bench she only knew of two cases where the parents of a child who had been violated were adamant about prosecuting the accused for the crime. However, reviewed cases strongly suggest that the legal process may actually deter victims and their families from seeking redress through the courts. After suffering a traumatic experience it is not uncommon for families and survivors to wait for months, if not years before the investigation is concluded and the case for sexual assault is heard to conclusion before a competent and impartial court of law.

Since delays are common, many parents and survivors may be led to believe that it is not worth the trouble to subject themselves through another degrading process. The longer the case takes the greater the possibility of key evidence to be lost or forgotten. Unreasonable delays led one parent to complain on record over the stalling of his child’s case which remained pending because the prosecutor was on study leave. Assigning a new prosecutor would mean starting a fresh case. The parent challenged this practice as denying the wronged child justice. Cases are also dismissed on account of lacking expert witnesses e.g. health personnel not attending court sessions to give their expert opinion or poor prosecution.

Concerns of corruption were universally voiced more so in so far as obstructing the legal process against dealing appropriately with the perpetrator of violence. Local attitudes are partly to blame for the state of affairs since most prefer to deal with “whom they know” to either bend or expedite the legal or judicial process, inviting corrupt elements to take advantage of a population that is largely illiterate in legal matters. Survivors and victims of violence who are unable ‘to buy’ their justice are routinely compromised by law enforcement officials keen to maximize profits from the misfortunes of others. Ethical considerations have little bearing on their professions.

In practice, no case of sexual assault is entertained absent a Police Form Three (PF3). The requirement to present a PF3 in all GBV cases is problematic and more so when it involves a sexual crime. Foremost, in a human resource strained health sector their admissibility requirement e.g. to be filled by a designated medical officer, is hard to realize. For instance, it is hard to find the caliber of medical officer empowered to fill the form in most peripheral public health facilities. Also, the actual form is unsatisfactory for recording sexual crimes in detail. The size of the form, roughly one third of an A4 paper, does not motivate health officials to include additional information or diagrams which may assist to elaborate the injury. Likewise, the options to fill out the form are limited to superficial injuries and not other types of injuries .

In addition, there is a problem with the instructions issued to establish whether a crime has taken place or not. For example, during the GBV Study health officials reported being asked to establish whether the girl was a virgin and not if she has been raped while police officers reported being asked by parents to establish if the girl is pregnant not to investigate a rape. Purportedly, the rape allegation comes up only if the young girl is pregnant and the parents want to save face by threatening the impregnator to marry her lest he is slapped with a rape charge.

Furthermore, SOSPA provisions are defeated by the presence of laws like the Spinster and Single Parent Children Protection Act 2005 which is loaded with moral connotations about acceptable sexual behaviour and seeks to deal with the consequences of ‘illicit sexual intercourse’ i.e. extra marital sex and having children out of wedlock. In most cases it is the woman who is punished for what is understood to be sexual indiscretions while formal and informal institutions collude to ease the burden on males.

Devising Responses Guided by Experience

Maoulidi and Mallya (2007) and Mlanga (2007) argue that GBV should be approached in a multi-sectoral and integrated way. The substantive law taken alone cannot facilitate a successful prosecution of sexual crimes under the prevailing judicial system. This review also underscores the necessity of support mechanism for victims and survivors of GBV. In England, DV advisors act as liaison between the victim and various statutory agencies. This will minimize the likelihood of cases being dropped prematurely. It will also reinforce a sense of support for victims and survivors of GBV. The establishment of specialist DV courts across the country also helps in expediting GBV trials.

The court requires expert opinion to help secure a conviction, but such opinion is limited to the opinions of civil servants who are ill advised and trained in the law. Generally, the courts have been less willing to consider ongoing research on GBV as well as opinions from advocacy organizations in both the isles as well as the Mainland. Perhaps the admissibility of video recordings, photographs and statements of GBV survivors can strengthen evidence tendered to the court rather than relying solely on expert witnesses.

Moreover, the judicial system in Zanzibar needs to remain abreast of legal development and scholarship on GBV. For instance, numerous researchers have pointed out the involvement of people close to the family, including blood relatives in cases of child sexual abuse (Rumashi and Banda, 2003). Similarly, the Zanzibar GBV study established that adolescent girls were disproportionately victimized in cases of sexual violence. A similar finding was made earlier in the United Nations Study on Violence against Children and by the Horizon Study where among 21 women who reported being sexually abused before the age of twelve, eight were abuse by a family members, five were abused by a neighbour, three were abused by a family friend, two by a male worker in the house and one by a male friend. Only two respondents were assaulted by a stranger. Therefore the view that rape and sexual assault is perpetrated by people alien to the victim or family is untenable.

Overwhelmingly, GBV advocacy and services are spearheaded by CSO. But rather than going at it alone or working in opposition to the government, Wamai emphasizes strengthening CSO relationships with provincial organizations in enforcement efforts. Maendeleo ya Wanawake in Kenya, for instance, works with local police and chiefs to do GBV case follow up. In Tanzania, CSOs like Sahiba-Sisters Foundation are implementing community responses in close collaboration with newly established women police units, community police and legal outfits.

Capacity building in critical skills to manage GBV is thus an important aspect of GBV enforcement mechanism. GBV training should be an integral part of the formation of law enforcement bodies as well as local government officials. Training should consider both the substantive as well as the procedural aspects and must be supplemented by relevant work tools such as the GBV Reference Manual a joint initiative between the AG ‘s Office in Kenya and WiLDAF. The manual expounds the law, sets standards and recommends best practices to various levels of providers e.g. medical practitioners, activists and investigators.

In addition to international human rights instruments, the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa and the SADC Declaration on Gender and Development among others, require African nations to recognize full gender equality. Also, they require nations to provide the minimum standard in identifying and mapping GBV prevalence. Further, it calls for the periodic assessment of the level of institutional response to address GBV incidences.

Monitoring GBV prevalence, as well as legal and judicial practice, is thus critical to giving existing GBV laws life. The SADC Gender and Development Protocol calls for targets and benchmarks to reduce gender violence in the region. Pamela Mhlanga’s article is informative in so far as appreciating the selective application of the SADC Gender and Development Declaration in respect to enforcing the law relating to marital rape. She notes that only 9 sub-Saharan African countries, including Tanzania, recognize marital rape.

Equally, there is an urgent need to investigate available mechanism to respond to GBV incidents at different levels. Certainly, information about the status quo is critical to inform future GBV advocacy strategies and institutional responses. A welcome development is the incorporation of VAW statistics in the TDHS since 2004. The AU is considering initiating a VAW fund to address the problem of enforcement of GBV laws. An equally commendable development in the region is the Waki Commission Report which isolates sexual and GBV for special attention following the post election violence in Kenya.

Ann Njogu asserts that political will is required to profile sexual and gender based violence at par with other serious crimes. Tanzania has already developed a GBV Policy. Kenya is presently considering a national policy framework to guide in the implementation and enforcement of SOA in compliance with the law. Meanwhile there must be efforts to strengthen the prosecution of GBV crimes. England, for example, has instituted specialist Domestic Violence Courts while Turkey makes pathology services in criminal cases available in the court house .

Kithika calls for a paradigm shift in service delivery system, seeking to make them consumer friendly and sensitive. Close monitoring of GBV cases by CSOs cannot be under emphasized. Media Women’s Association in four Eastern African countries recently launched a Media Code on Violence. While the code mainly targets the reporting of case involving child sexual abuse, the idea of a code can also be popularized to other professionals to underscore the ethical dimensions of GBV advocacy. In sum, there is an urgent need for an oversight body to police the administration of justice, especially in GBV cases.

Conclusion

In many respects the legal framework in Zanzibar has made great strides in redefining gender based violence and crimes of a sexual nature. SOSPA attests to the influence of global advocacy efforts in recognizing at locals contexts explicit crimes against women outlined in CEDAW and furthered at key conferences on women including Vienna Conference on Human Rights, ICPD and Beijing. The HIV/AIDS pandemic and the particular risk posed to victims of sexual crimes also influenced strong and deliberate measures to be taken against sexual offenders.

Existing laws relating to GBV contain some strong provisions but lack an enforcement mechanism to oblige institutional compliance as envisaged under various international, regional and national instruments. Significantly, the legal framework remains ineffective because it is toothless for lack of enforceability. Likewise, women’s rights continue to be compromised because they are analyzed within a religious context instead of being linked to the legal and political framework which demands de facto and de jure gender equality.

The lesson from the GBV study in Zanzibar for future reforms suggests that law reform initiatives must simultaneously emphasize substantive and procedural aspects of the law. Also, it suggests a strong need to periodically monitor and review judicial practices in so far as their compliance to specified legal standards. Certainly, an effective law rests upon a constant critique of judicial practice against people actual experiences in the legal process. Also it needs to take cognizance of emerging knowledge, and practice in the field. It is clear that the courts in Zanzibar confine themselves to the raw form of the law and rarely, if at all, seek the benefit of studies in the field of GBV when presiding over GBV cases. This denies them the opportunity to elucidate and develop the law consonant with the peculiarities of the Zanzibar legal context.

From ACAS Bulletin 83: Sexual and gender based violence in Africa

About the author

Trained in Law (LLM from Georgetown) with a focus on Human Rights and Women’s Law, Salma Maoulidi is the Executive Director of Sahiba-Sisters Foundation, a women’s development and advocacy network working mainly with Muslim and provincial women and youth with members in 12 regions of Tanzania concerned with the impact of cultural and religious discourses on women. Salma has over 20 years in the women’s and social movement in Tanzania working on and writing about legal and development related issues from an African woman’s feminist-activist perspective. Salma was one of the legal experts providing input from CSOs in Tanzania that contributed to the SOSPA reforms. She continues to use her experience working as an activist and as a consultant in various local and regional forums. Furthermore, she has initiated and coordinated a number of grass roots based Gender Based Violence campaigns including the lattest one against sexual corruption at the workplace involving women in low paying jobs in four regions. In 2007, she was one of the lead consultants for the Ministry of Labour, Youth, Women and Children Development to undertake the fist GBV prevalence study in Zanzibar.

References

A. Publications

Anil Kija, Analysis: “Outdated laws, SOSPA and EPA Cases”, in This Day Tuesday February 3, 2009

Anna Joachim, “Wanaharakati wamng’ag’ania Waziri Chikawe”, in Tanzania Daima February 12, 2009

Anne Kithaka (2008) Enforcement of the Sexual Offences Act in Kenya available at http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/49923

Benedict Sichalwe, “Chikawe awavaa wanaharakati”, in RAI February 8, 2009

Division for the Advancement of Women (2005), Secretary-General’s study on violence against women, 61st session of the General Assembly Item 60(a) on advancement of women Forthcoming as document A/61/122/Add.

Elieshi Lema (Ed.) (2008) 20 Years of Tanzania Media Women’s Association (TAMWA) Moving the Agenda for Social Transformation in Tanzania, E&D Vision Publishing Ltd

Emma Njoki Wamai (2008) “Reflections on 16 days of activism” available at http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/48325

Jessie Bwambo et al (2001), “HIV and Partner Violence- implications for HIV Voluntary Counseling and Testing Programs in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania”

Ministry of Community Development Gender and Children (2001), Stop Gender Violence: A national Plan of Action for the Prevention and Eradication of VAW and Children 2001-2015

Nelson Banda, “Gender Based Violence” in Femnet News Oct- Dec 2003

Nevala, S. (2005), The International Violence against Women Surveys, Geneva, European Institute for Crime Prevention and Control

Pamela Mhlanga (2007) “Southern Africa: Justice for survivors of marital rape, how far has SADC come?” Available at http://www.pambazuka.org/en/categories/16 days/45014

Paul Perret, a Call of Action on HIV/AIDS-Related Human Rights Abuses against Women and Girls in Africa.

Rosemary Okello (2008) “African leaders signal commitment to finance gender equality” available at http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/16 days/52578

Salma Maoulidi (2009) “Reduce Executive Incompetence not SOSPA Sentences” available at Pambazuka http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/54973

Salma Maoulidi and Usu Mallya (2007) Study on GBV prevalence in Zanzibar, Ministry of Labour, Youth Women and Children Development

Sarah Venis and Richard Horton, “Violence against women: a global burden”, The Lancet, Volume 359, Issue 9313, 6 April 2002, Page 1172

S.F Rumisha (2004), “Child Violence and Sexual Abuse in Tanzania”, Tanzania Health Research Bulletin Vol.6, No. 1 pp.30-35

United Nations Division for the Advancement of Women (2006) Ending Violence against Women: from words to action. Study by the Secretary-General available at http://www.un.org/womenwatch/daw/vaw/SGstudyvaw.htm

United Republic of Tanzania, The Tanzania Health and Demographic Health Survey of 2004/05

WHO (2006) “Global Estimates of Health Consequences due to Violence against Children”. Background paper for the United Nations Study on Violence against Children A/61/299

WHO (2005) Multi- Country Study on Women’s Health and Domestic Violence against Women and Initial Results on Prevalence, Health Outcomes and Women’s Responses. Also available at http://www.who.int/gender/violence/multicountry/en/

B. Statutes

1. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, Education Act No.6, 1982
2. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Sexual Offenses (Special Provisions) Act No 7 of 1998 Cap 13
3. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Penal Act No 6 of 2004 Cap 13
4. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Interpretation of Laws and General Clauses Act No. 7 of 1984
5. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Young and Children’s Offenders Act 1998
6. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Spinsters and Single Parent Children Protection Act, No 4 of 2004
7. The Marriage and Divorce (Muslim) Registration and Divorce (Cap 91)
8. Marriage (Solemnization and Registration) Decree Cap 92
9. The Revolutionary Government of Zanzibar, the Kadhis Court Act, Act No 3 of 1985
10. The Laws of Zanzibar, Evidence Decree (1917) Cap 5
11. The Laws of Zanzibar, Penal Decree (1934) Cap 13
12. The United Republic of Tanzania, Sexual Offences Special Provisions Act, 1998
13. The United Republic of Tanzania, The Penal Code Cap 16
14. The United Republic of Tanzania, Children and Young Person’s Act, Cap 13

C. Case Law
1. R vs. Mzee Abdulla Suleiman, Criminal Case No.224 of 1995
2. R vs. Abdulla Orasta Nanduya, Criminal Case No.53 of 2003
3. R vs. Abrahman Suweidi Samalia, Criminal Case No.332 of 2002
4. R vs. Ahmed Twahiri Ali, Criminal Case No.28 of 2002
5. R vs. Ame Ramadhan Muombwa, Criminal Case No.64 of 2003
6. R vs. Amton Rafiel Saimon, Criminal Case No.113 of 2002
7. R vs. Khalifa Hassan Kaita, Criminal Case No. 49 of 2005
8. R vs. Mohammed Amour Ally, Criminal Case No.116 of 2001
9. R vs. Mzee Amiri, Criminal Case No.11 of 2002
10. R vs. Shehe Juma Ame, Criminal Case No.119 of 2001

ACRONMYS

AIDS Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome
AU African Union
CSO Civil Society Organization
DAW Division on the Advancement of Women
DV Domestic Violence
e.g. for example
i.e. that is
GBV Gender Based Violence
HIV Human Immunodeficiency Virus
HRW Human Rights Watch
MLYWCD Ministry of Labour, Youth, Women and Children Development
MoHSW Ministry of Health and Social Welfare
PF3 Police Form 3
R Republic
SADC Southern Africa Development Cooperation
SOA Sexual Offences Act
SOSPA Sexual Offences Act
STDs Sexually Transmitted Diseases
STIs Sexually Transmitted Infections
§ Section
§§ Sections
TDHS Tanzania Demographic and Health Survey
Tshs. Tanzanian Shilling
UN United Nations
USD United States Dollars
UWZ Umoja wa Walemavu Zanzibar
VAW Violence Against Women
vs. versus
WiLDAF Women in Law and Development
WHO World Health Organization
ZAPDD Zanzibar Association of people with developmental disabilities
ZANAB Zanzibar National Association for the Blind.

Notes

1. Without doubt the critical role of the Tanzania Media Women’s Association (TAMWA) was instrumental in the early successes of GBV advocacy. For greater details see, Lema, E (Ed.) (2008) 20 Years of Tanzania Media Women’s Association (TAMWA).

2. Describing GBV offences of a sexual nature as “crimes of morality” is a colonial legacy and reflects a Victorian concept of propriety with regards to sexual relations.

3. I served as one of the principal researchers for the study. The ministry concerned is the Ministry of Labour, Youth, Women and Children’s Development but since the name changes periodically I will retain the usage of the ministry responsible for women or children’s affairs to identify it. This Ministry acts the national coordinator for gender equality and equity outlining the appropriate mechanisms for gender mainstreaming.

4. Although Zanzibar is part of Tanzania, it is semi-autonomous and has a separate legal and judicial system.
5. Traditional healers or witch doctors, like the shaman, people consult for their different problems.

6. This is a critical fact in view of the more radical demands being presented by a more autonomous women’s rights movement to the establishment as well as to a rather conservative society.

7. For example, see §127, §144 or §145.

8. Also see, §298A of the Criminal Procedure Decree Cap 14. In many cases, courts are also obliged to prescribe fines and award corporal punishment.

9. §156. This includes surrogacy.

10. §153A

11. § 145B

12. § 145A

13. §120 (3) (a) and (b).

14. §125 (1)

15. The Zanzibar House of Representatives

16. Undoubtedly, the clamp down on homosexuality was influenced by the tense political climate prevailing in the isles at the time where government policies were attacked by both the official opposition as well as religious groups.

17. I am referring here to the Islamic notion that describes women as ‘fitna’ (commonly translated as chaos but in this context as temptresses) and which absolves men for any indiscretions they commit while blaming women for any crime against their person by default.

18. The Kenyan Sexual Offence Act only passed in 2006 while in South Africa it was passed 10 years after it was first proposed by the South African Law Commission in 1998. Accordingly, these laws have had the benefit of incorporating major lessons from other jurisdictions.

19. See among others, Anil Kija, Analysis: “Outdated laws, SOSPA and EPA Cases”, in This Day Tuesday February 3, 2009; Anna Joachim, “Wanaharakati wamng’ag’ania Waziri Chikawe”, in Tanzania Daima February 12, 2009; and Benedict Sichalwe, “Chikawe awavaa wanaharakati”, in RAI February 8, 2009.

20. See “Tanzania Government to amend girls age consent for marriage” in Afrol News/IRIN of 10 November 2008.

21. Notable among them are organizations of people with disabilities such as UWZ, ZAPDD or ZANAB which all report incidence of abuse against their members.

22. This body was empowered to analyze sexual and physical violence but because staff at the Institute did not have specialized training in sexual abuse crimes key information went unreported compromising the cases.

23. see §13 (1). Certainly, marriage is no guarantee that he will maintain the child. Conversely he may divorce the mother leaving the child in need defeating the object of the law.

24. Interview with Hon. Salma Maghimbi.

25. Letter written by Juma M. Abdulla with reference PHQ/Z/574/67 written on 3 November 2003 to the Principal Secretary Ministry of Health

26. see for example case of R vs. Mzee Amiri Kajele where a parent complained about why an accused who should be in court was roaming freely in the street.

27. Essentially, this form is filled in cases of injury from ‘accidents’ necessitating treatment.

28. A spinster is defined as a girl between 16 and 21 years in the old law and 18 and 21 in the 2004 law

29. While this attracts its own problems, what remains key is facilitating access to GBV services, especially after the violation.

Untitled

I am watching the street outside, from behind a greasy rain smeared window.

There is nothing to see. I stand here as thousands before me have stood here, at certain hours, certain minutes and certain seconds. There is nothing to see. The window used to be clean, used to be clear. Once I could make out the fine outline of hills in the distance, a bird straining against the wind.

There was even a curtain I could draw closed if I wanted to undress.

In the day the brown mud of the sun, moves across the walls, fills my mouth and silences it.

At night the sound of my bones trying to adjust, trying to accommodate, on stained yellowing mattresses.

Yes it is frayed in places, coiled and sleepless. From my hands where they cover my mouth to stifle screams, when I am alone and I rock myself, back and forth, so I can breathe again, short shallow breaths, I see that I am pinned; to this ground, the stars reel around me, the darkening black sky turns my guts. My legs are forced open. Objects are thrust into me. Cold objects, hot searing objects. Objects I would have never thought.

Today I think it is my sixth birthday.

The stink follows me everywhere. It is my own. They tore me up. Five, ten, twenty, I cannot remember, smelling of sweat and smoke. Sometimes and all at once I remember everything. I curl up on the ground, into the ground.

The roof above my head (in my head) disappears and it feels to me that all the people in the world have clambered the walls to look in, to laugh at me and to curse me. This shame I am made to feel, this rejection. They throw stones at me, I cover my head with my hands, my arms, I reach for the threadbare blanket, but it does not cover me. I know they mean to drive me out of my home, out of my body and my mind, out of dignity, and everywhere in my head the sound of running feet suffering the same.

The water in this place no longer runs. I cannot wash myself. I cannot rinse this stench out from the rag I have tied between my legs. It fills and leaks, runs down my legs, the dogs sniff at me and then not even the dogs.

No one knows my name. No one cares to know my name. There are no other voices here but my own. I keep my voice in my hands, inert in my lap.

I have accommodated this pain. How remote it is and out of the way. It will take me years to get there, to recognize the landmarks. Yes, this is where you once were, this is who you were. How absurd those vanished hills seem now, the ideas I might have had. Who will ever reach me here, who will ever find me here?

I can feel bruises on my body. There is a small square mirror here, that hangs from a rusted nail, the taste of my blood and iron in my mouth. The bruises spread purple and grey like thunder clouds across my thighs, disappear up my dress, grabbing and pulling at my hair. I can hear my bones cracking, my head snapped back. Copious fucked up drinking. The swinging bare bulb hanging from its wire, the room sways, lights up, dims, lights up, dims. I am 30. My children in their intermittent shadow corners; watch.

I have been dried out, stuffed with leaves and bitter smelling herbs. He likes it that way. Walking is difficult now. I can sit if I lower myself slowly onto the end of the bed. It hurts less when lying down, not moving at all.

He will come again I know, when ever he wants to and whenever he feels like it and leave me no time to heal.

The minute hand lies like lead in my chest, the second hand brings a blade to my throat. I learn how to beg, just like thousands before me have begged to be spared.

The first time I was touched I froze. Perfectly, soundlessly. Hot breathe on my neck, strange whispering words in my ear. I was told never to tell. Never to tell. Never to tell.

Today the door has disappeared. I watched, as if removed from myself how they filled in the space (where for a second I could see the whole world and what it means) and sealed me in.

How they were happy and pleased with what they had done, happy to know that I would always be just like this. Bound, mutilated, existing in abject poverty, raped a million times over in any given year. The seconds quicken in me, coils tightening, and I can no longer breathe. I bring my hands to my face, I cover my eyes, I think of the hills, I dream them, I think of the dress I wore, the savage expression in his eyes, what it felt like what did it feel like what did it feel like what did it feel like I cover my eyes I cover my eyes howling I cover my eyes so that I will not see myself dying one more time.

I write words on scraps of paper, later I eat them, feel them pulp and swell in my mouth. When there is no more paper and no more ink, I scratch the words into the walls with my nails, with the blunt nibs of my fingers. This is what I liked, this is what I dreamed of. No, never this, I never would have imagined this.

I am old now and almost dead. In the day the brown mud of the sun, at night…

This is where I was, I was here, this was my life.

About the author

Megan Voysey-Braig is a South African writer, author of Till We Can Keep an Animal (Jacana, 2008), winner of 2007/2008 European Union Literary Award, shortlisted for the 2009 Commonwealth Wrietrs’ Prize – Africa, longlisted for the 2009 Sunday Times Fiction Prize. She currently lives in Berlin.