Dishonourable discharge

The proposed pledge of allegiance for schoolchildren has already received voluminous comment from contributors to and diverse readers of Thought Leader. Minister Naledi Pandor said she could not see why people might have any problem with the pledge.

Here’s an angle from the perspective of the Khulumani Support Group, the national non-party political membership organisation of victims and survivors of apartheid-era gross human rights violations.

The noble sentiment of honouring “those who suffered and sacrificed for freedom and justice”, as stated in the preamble to our Constitution and in the proposed pledge for schoolchildren, is simply ignored by the government itself when dealing both with the Khulumani Support Group as an organisation as well as with individual victims and survivors of apartheid gross human rights violations and abuses.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) paraded victims and survivors across the country — exposing the uncivilised and barbaric behaviour on which the apartheid regime had gorged itself for so many years. Following the acceptance of the report of the TRC by president Nelson Mandela in Parliament on October 29 1998, despite the opposition of the ANC, it took nearly five years before President Thabo Mbeki announced the government’s decision on reparations. Not only were these reparations long overdue when they were eventually announced, they were also only one-quarter of what had been recommended by the TRC. Hardly what one could call “honouring” of those who suffered and sacrificed for freedom and justice. It could perhaps more accurately be thought of as the dishonourable discharge of a duty entrusted to the president by the citizens of the country.

On the other hand, the multiple somersaults in placating amnesty seekers — many of whom were directly involved in the murder, torture, indiscriminate shooting, unlawful detention and rape of those who appeared before the TRC (and many who didn’t) — is another form of dishonouring persons who suffered for freedom and justice. “Perpetrators before victims” seems to have been the order of the day.

I can’t help wondering if the apparent empathy with perpetrators isn’t perhaps due to some of our government leaders being aware of gross human rights violations that were perpetrated by the liberation forces while in exile. These abuses have not yet been fully disclosed and in many instances were not presented to the TRC. Whispered stories of rape and murder of comrades suspected to be informers keep surfacing from the dark and secret depths of the struggle underbelly. Should there be even a smidgeon of truth in these rumours, where is the honour in honouring those who may have been involved?

Last year, the esteemed Director General in the Presidency and Chancellor of National Orders Reverend Frank Chikane, himself a victim and survivor of an attempted apartheid assassination, was “satisfied with” a plea bargain for members of the apartheid leadership, including former apartheid minister of law and order Adriaan Vlok, to receive suspended sentences for their criminal behaviour. Of the different plea bargain charges put forward, Reverend Chikane was satisfied with the one that, in identifying him as the victim, depicted the UDF as an innately violent organisation, and the apartheid regime as “a lawfully elected government”. Notably, the versions of the plea-bargain charges that implicated Dr Wouter Basson were not used. Was this an honouring of those who suffered and sacrificed, or just expediency?

Late last year, President Mbeki, at a joint sitting of Parliament, announced that presidential pardons would be considered for certain perpetrators, particularly those who had not, for a variety of reasons, applied for amnesty through the TRC. In his introduction to this announcement, he told the story of the murder of Harold Sefolo and his comrades. He was clearly moved by Sefolo’s heroism in the face of certain death at the hands of the apartheid security police. It truly is a moving and heroic story. In spite of that, the government has essentially ignored the subsequent heroism of Sefolo’s widow, and the families of the other men murdered. While the so-called Mamelodi Four have been honoured with the finding and reburial of their remains, their widows and family members have not been recognised, let alone honoured, for their sacrifices. The promised reimbursement of costs the families had to carry for these reburials, from the TRC unit in the Department of Justice, have not been honoured nearly a year later. Revictimising of victims and survivors is demeaning and dishonourable.

A founding member of Khulumani, Duma Kumalo, was one of the “Sharpeville Six”. He was falsely accused of having been part of a group that murdered deputy mayor Kuzwayo Jacob Dlamini, and was sentenced to death. He spent three years on death row; a last-minute stay of execution saved him and the others from the gallows. His request to the TRC was to have his criminal record expunged. He explored the presidential-pardon route — but was not prepared to “admit” any guilt, a requirement for a pardon. Evidence of false testimony given under torture by those who implicated Duma in the killing of the deputy mayor was presented to the TRC and has subsequently been confirmed. Unfortunately, Duma died just over two years ago, without ever having this request to restore his personal dignity attended to. Attempts to have his record expunged posthumously have so far been unsuccessful. This is not honouring of a person who suffered apartheid abuses.

The other aspect of the presidential pardons process is that it represents, yet again, a special dispensation for the perpetrators of apartheid gross human rights violations. No special dispensation has been granted to victims and survivors — in fact, the very existence of the Khulumani Support Group is evidence of the need for the recognition and support of victims and survivors of apartheid gross human rights abuses. Many of the membership were unable to testify, or prevented from testifying, before the TRC and are therefore not classified as “identified victims” in terms of the TRC Act.

As a result, government officials dishonourably wash their hands of any attempts to make provision for victims and survivors who found themselves excluded from the TRC. It must be borne in mind that the president’s fund set up in terms of the TRC Act, specifically to be used for the benefit of victims and survivors of apartheid atrocities, at the last public reporting stood at R650-million. If it is not used for victims and survivors, it is to be channelled into disaster relief funding on the decision of the president.

“Community reparations” is part of the government’s mandate. The Department of Justice has yet to publish its proposed policy on community reparations. Khulumani submitted proposed suggestions and recommendations on October 29 2003 (the fifth anniversary of the handing-over of the TRC report). These suggestions were based on the actual researched needs of the communities in which Khulumani members reside. To date, there has been no response to or even acknowledgement of receipt of these proposals. One wonders whether, if Khulumani had the resources to hold the minister of justice and constitutional development to account through court action, the judge would be as harsh as in the recent judgement concerning the neglected 384 applications for presidential pardon. One also wonders how quickly the new president of the ANC would want to allocate the resources in the president’s fund.

As Tshepo Madlingozi with particular insight writes, victims of apartheid gross human rights abuses can be described as “good victims” or “bad victims”. This depends on whether they are prepared to simply accept the “moral victory” of freedom as sufficient (good victims), or whether they continue to campaign legitimately for opportunities to have their lives “repaired” (bad victims).

Good victims would be those that then deputy president Mbeki characterised in 1999 as being satisfied with “monuments that are built to pay tribute to our liberty”. Mbeki went on to say: “We must not insult them [victims and survivors] and demean the heroic contribution they made to our emancipation by turning them into mercenaries whose sacrifices we can compensate with money.” Nearly a decade later, it’s clear that as much as he was out of touch with the genuine needs of the non-privileged, non-elite victims and survivors then, he remains out of touch with the needs of many survivors and victims now — in no danger of becoming “mercenaries” but simply struggling to meet their and their families’ everyday needs. The insulting and demeaning of apartheid victims and survivors and their heroic contributions has rather taken the form of ignoring them, sidelining them, marginalising them and making decisions on their behalf without consultation.

The Egazini Memorial in Grahamstown was unveiled in February 2001 by the then Eastern Cape MEC of sports, recreation, arts and culture, Ms N Balindlela. The memorial focuses on the heroic stand made by Nxele against the British garrison in 1819. On a visit a few weeks ago, the memorial was found to be in a state of relative disrepair.

As much as Mbeki years later described being moved by the Museum of War Remnants in Saigon, Vietnam (ANC Today, June 6 2007), he’s now seemingly unmoved by and removed from living, flesh-and-blood South African victims and survivors — the literal “war remnants” of our own country’s struggle. Dishonouring.

Bad victims are a thorn in the side of all those who want to erase or “forget” the past. Their voices sometimes prick the consciences of those who benefited from apartheid, and those who benefited unduly post-democracy. Bad victims challenge the status quo. Bad victims’ voices are often drowned out by the howls of outrage of those who cling to ideology, material goods, status, denial and power. Bad victims are often prevented from speaking out (“khulumani”).

As far as the Khulumani Support Group is concerned, the most dishonouring action was the seemingly spontaneous declaration (not requested by the court) by former minister of justice Penuell Maduna to a New York court opposing the Khulumani lawsuit (Khulumani et al vs Barclays et al). This appears possibly to have been some kind of appeasement of big business under the guise of labelling the court case as undermining the “sovereignty” of the South African government. Minister Brigitte Mabandla subsequently not only endorsed the Maduna declaration, but also released a press statement opposing the lawsuit.

President Thabo Mbeki, writing in City Press shortly thereafter, reiterated and upheld the minister of justice’s statement in opposing the lawsuit. He indicated that we should rather “heal ourselves”. Ironically, the late Harold Sefolo, recognised and lauded as a hero by Mbeki in announcing the presidential pardons, is survived by a wife who is one of the plaintiffs in the Khulumani lawsuit.

Children still learn by example. If they are to recite a pledge that honours those who suffered and sacrificed for freedom and justice, let that honouring become a reality for victims and survivors of apartheid gross human rights violations and abuses. Let it, and the preamble to our country’s Constitution, not only be an honouring of good, party-devoted, compliant, privileged, high-profile and elite victims, but also of “bad”, down-trodden, marginalised and largely invisible victims, whose voices are seldom heard or taken seriously.