Facing violence and intimidation in SA's politics - Daily Dispatch

Terence Corrigan

Parliament’s Committee on International Relations and Cooperation put out a statement following the attempted assassination of former (and perhaps future) US president Donald Trump, in which it seeks “to remind everyone that the use of violence to instil intimidation and fear among people doesn’t work”.

Perhaps it shouldn’t, but it does. This has certainly been the case historically and across the world, not least on this continent – violent intimidation has been central to the maintenance of Zanu-PF’s hold on power in Zimbabwe, something in which the South African state acquiesced.

In South Africa, it was intrinsic to apartheid-era repression, while the ANC’s People’s War used violence and intimidation quite successfully to undermine the capacity of the erstwhile government to operate.

The transition was accompanied by considerable political violence, to the extent that a large majority of the population lived in areas where political activity was severely circumscribed. As Dan Mofokeng, then of SANCO and later MEC in the Gauteng government, explained the disruption of DP meeting in Orange Farm: “The people will use every tactic to prevent political activity by the [white] parties. They are not going to allow these parties to come to the townships.”

The recourse to “every tactic” remains a feature of our public life. True enough, we are in a far better position than we were. But according to a recent report by the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime, there were 488 politically motivated assassinations in South Africa between 2000 and 2023 (10 hits were recorded between January and April 2024).

This is aside from the casualties arising from conflicts in the taxi industry and in the course of criminal activity. It is also aside from deaths and injuries sustained in public violence, such as the 2021 riots that followed the incarceration of former President Jacob Zuma.

The reality is that violence, or the threat of violence, works. Whether in taking out opponents, silencing and intimidating whistleblowers, punishing strike-breakers, securing “community” payments (a la the construction mafia), or for political theatre – as the EFF has done with trashing businesses – it promises benefits, which are not countered by the threat of consequences. The state is often unable or unwilling to stop or punish this behaviour.

More than this, violence retains a sly romanticism. South Africa is a political environment in which the hitherto dominant ANC has obsessed about “enemies” and “counter-revolutionaries”; and the EFF demands power through “whatever revolutionary means possible” and exhorts its supports to “never be scared to kill.” It’s a tenor of discourse that makes Donald Trump seem tame, and it’s difficult to imagine constructive politics in this environment.

More than this, there has been a willingness on the part of those who should know better to accept this. Recall the various “kill for Zuma” comments during his presidential drive. One such was from then Cosatu Secretary General Zwelinzima Vavi. When this was taken to the SA Human Rights Commission, Vavi stated in a joint communique with the commission: “I was merely stating a principle that comrades should be ready to defend one another and when necessary that may involve killing.” He added that it was a “general principle that taking up arms is always a possibility”.

That a “human rights” body could endorse a statement that killing was one of a number of options, and that taking up arms was “always” on the table (though not now, one understands…) was emblematic of the problem. So was the fact that Vavi remained the toast of many in the “social justice” community, these sentiments notwithstanding.

It’s commendable that South Africa’s elected representatives are concerned for peaceful competition in the American republic. It is less commendable that they view South Africa as a model for it. It is past time South Africa’s leaders rooted their rhetorical expectations in reality.

Terence Corrigan is projects and publications manager at the IRR