As the bewitching hour of midnight, July 7, 2021, drew near, with no sign of Jacob Zuma handing himself to the police, and the possibility of a bloody showdown loomed, South Africa was on edge.
Militant, armed supporters made seditious threats, and fortified the Nkandla bunker, while a huge contingent of police and army vehicles lined up in the surrounding areas. There was a collective sigh of relief when Zuma emerged soon before midnight, and police and soldiers returned to their bases. The relief was short-lived.
By July 10, the real trouble had started. There had been two days of blockades and attacks on trucks on national roads, showing signs of spreading further afield than KwaZulu-Natal, and no indication of appropriate security force action, even by way of roadblocks.
By the weekend, the looting and burning of businesses and shopping malls, which continued for days, had started. This mayhem was clearly orchestrated and the culpability of the state’s security apparatus in allowing it to happen is obvious. A year later, there are more questions than answers.
As the shadowy hidden hands have not been identified, we do not know if it will happen again. What lessons can be learned, and what steps can be taken, prevent a repetition of a disaster of this magnitude? The events of last July were not a spontaneous uprising of poor people, but the planners capitalising on the endemic criminality holding many communities to ransom, and the ineptitude and corruption of the badly managed, politicised police.
The degree of coordination is shown by the way in which the violence and looting were unleashed across KZN within a short space of time. Poor people, who gained briefly from the looting, were the long-term losers, as the businesses they relied on to buy their basic goods, such as beans and maize meal, had been razed.
In places like Eshowe, even the bank they relied on for their savings clubs was burnt, necessitating costly travel to the Ulundi branch. Two of many examples show how this anarchy was allowed to happen. Criminal shack lords instil fear in Cato Crest informal settlement, and on Sunday, July 11, loudspeakers broadcast incendiary messages by two identifiable people.
That night, the burning of businesses commenced, accompanied by hours of gunshots. Residents trooped up and down the hill with goods looted from local malls on Monday, and while more burning and shooting followed that evening, the smell of roasting meat wafted into nearby residential areas.
Police at local stations sounded harassed and helpless and said they expected soldiers to arrive – but they did not arrive until July 14 (after the proverbial horse had bolted). Phoenix residents were victims of the spatial geography of apartheid, surrounded as this formerly Indian enclave is by many tens of thousands of residents of shack areas (one the stronghold of prime Zuma supporter Zandile Gumede) and formal townships.
Many residents were terrified of the invading crowds, and some lost their modest businesses. Video clips of vigilantes shooting at black Africans circulated, and a one-armed man stood in front of an eThekwini municipal vehicle. Untouchable drug lords allegedly fueled the flames.
The SAPS were the real culprits in allowing all these illegal actions, including by security companies with links to the police, to continue. Had they tried to call for reinforcements from Operational Response units, and, if not, why not?
One year later, there are no answers to crucial questions. Where were the water cannons, which are prime mechanisms of crowd control? Where were the four Casspirs, controversially acquired by the eThekwini municipality, supposedly to support the SAPS in public order policing? Where was the airwing of the SAPS? Why is the SAPS refusing to confirm that the Bhekithemba station at uMlazi was trashed and guns and ammunition were stolen? Has the station commissioner faced disciplinary action? Were other stations similarly plundered?
It is the politicians, led by the minister of police, who need to answer. When this violence started, independent, credible sources nationally confirmed the dearth of any intelligence to warn about what would follow Zuma’s arrest.
Even without it, though, it should have been obvious to the minister (who engages, irregularly, in operational matters himself and is known to have friends in KZN Crime Intelligence) that soldiers should have been deployed immediately to keep the national roads clear and safeguard infrastructure, especially as Zuma has known close links with long-distance taxi associations.
There is no shortage of information to expose those responsible, especially given this government’s snooping powers, including on telephone and social media networks. Since there is no political will, what can civil society do?
Pressure must be exerted on all elected officials to act urgently against the lack of proper parliamentary oversight. Public participation in community policing forums, and in apolitical, non-racial neighbourhoods and community networks – is a priority which can also build bridges, and promote healing, in areas such as Phoenix.
There is no time to lose.
* De Haas is a Honorary research fellow at the University of KZN’s School of Law, and a member of the Navi Pillay Research Group focusing on justice and human rights.