Repression

As the UDF grew, the apartheid regime tried every method at its disposal and every weapon in its arsenal to stop the spreading popular resistance. At times these methods were “legal”, following procedures laid down in the laws proclaimed by government. Other methods were acts of war against the population – they included assassination, bombs, and terrorism in the bitter meaning of the word.

What came out so clearly from the Truth and Reconciliation hearings was that the government itself sponsored, and supported, all of these acts, legal and illegal. The police and military themselves were both implicated and instrumental in acts of criminal violence against activists and resistant communities. Apartheid government structures themselves set the framework for these illegal acts.

The methods of repression used were:
1. Imprisoning leaders and treason trials
2. Troops in the townships
3. The State of Emergency
4. Detentions
5. Death squads and vigilantes

At the same time, the viciousness of this repression serves to throw into stark relief the heroism, sacrifice, and courage of people who defied the apartheid state.

Imprisoning leaders
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Some of the first measures the state tried to repress the UDF was to jail its leaders – by detention without trial, and by trial for political crimes.

In August 1984, during the UDF’s highly successful boycotts of the tricameral elections, the state detained 18 of the boycott leaders. In Natal they detained UDF national president Archie Gumede (who was 78 years old); the UDF national treasurer Mewa Ramgobin, who was also publicity secretary of the Natal Indian Congress (NIC); President of the NIC George Sewpersadh; NIC Vice-President MJ Naidoo; trade union leader and NIC member Billy Nair; general secretary of the South African Allied Workers’ Union Sam Kikine; and national chairman of the African People’s Democratic Union of South Africa, Kadir Hassim.

The detainees appealed to the courts. In early September a judge determined that the detentions were not valid. Minister of Law and Order Louis Le Grange reissued new detention orders immediately, but the seven men had gone into hiding.

On September 13, 1984, six of the leaders who had gone into hiding – Archie Gumede, Mewa Ramgobin, MJ Naidoo, Billy Nair, George Sewpersad and Paul David – took refuge in the British consulate in Durban. They deliberately went to the British consulate to highlight – and protest – the British government’s support for the Botha regime.

The British consular officials did not want to give the men sanctuary. They made the living conditions inside the building as bad as they could: the men slept on the floor with no mattresses or pillows; they were allowed to go to the toilets under escort for half an hour each morning; they were only allowed visits from doctors and lawyers (although in fact, the doctors and lawyers who visited them were UDF and NIC members, so they could keep contact with their organisations). One night, a British official played loud and irritating scales on a piccalo all night long by the room where they slept; another night, a security guard threatened to throw one of the men out of the window.

Three of the six left the consulate after three weeks. The government arrested the three who left immediately. The remaining three stayed inside the consulate for 90 days.

On December 10, the South African government backed down in the face of international pressure, and withdrew the detention notices against the men. Two days later, the remaining three activists came out of the consulate; 6000 people met and celebrated on the street outside.

The Pietermaritzburg Treason Trial (1985)

But only days later, the government charged five of the Durban consulate fugitives, and other leaders of the Transvaal UDF and the Release Mandela Committee (RMC) with treason.

Then, on the night of February 18, 1985, police detained leaders from the national UDF and the Transvaal region, including National President, Albertina Sisulu, National Treasurer Cas Saloojee, Frank Chikane, and union officials from the South African Allied Workers’ Union (Saawu).

This made up a total of 16 people who were charged for treason and contravening the Internal Security Act. This became the Pietermaritzburg Treason Trial – the first political trial targeting the UDF. The UDF pointed out that the UDF itself “was in the dock” – the state claimed that “its ideas, its mode of operating, its very existence” were an act of treason. The sixteen were Mewalal Ramgobin, Chanderdeo “Geroge” Sewpersadh, Mooroogiah “MD” Naidoo, Essop Jassat, Aubrey Mokoena, Curtis Nkondo, Archibald “Archie” Gumede, Devadas “Paul” David, Albertina Sisulu, Frank Chikane, Ebrahim “Cas” Saloojee, (Prof) Ismail Mohammed, Richard Thozamile Gqweta, Sisa Njikelana, Samuel Kikine and Isaac Ngcobo. The last four were all members of the South African Allied Workers Union (SAAWU), while the others were members of the United Democratic Front (UDF), the Transvaal or Natal Indian Congress (TIC and NIC) or affiliated organisations.

The state dropped charges against 12 of the accused in December, 1985. The remaining accused were Saawu officials; the trial against them collapsed after the state introduced suspect evidence. They were released in June 1986.

The Delmas Treason Trial

In June 1985 the state charged 22 UDF leaders and activists from the Vaal with treason, subversion, and murder, in a marathon trial that began in the small town of Delmas. The accused included UDF national leaders Popo Molefe (national general secretary of the UDF), Mosiuoa Patrick “Terror” Lekota (national publicity secretary of the UDF), and Moses “Moss” Chikane (UDF Transvaal secretary). It also included community leaders from the Vaal Civic Association, and other groups. The murder charges were brought on the legal grounds of “common purpose”: the state admitted that the people who were charged had not themselves committed murder, but said that as leaders and organisers of the Vaal protests, they should be counted responsible when the protesters killed government officials.

The state dropped charges against three of the accused in 1986.

Over four years after the beginning of the Delmas trial, in November, 1988, the judge ruled that the UDF had in fact acted as the “internal wing of the ANC”, had worked to make the country ungovernable, and to overthrow the government through violence. The judge on 8 December sentenced Mosiuoa “Terror” Lekota to 12 years in prison, and both Popo Molefe and Moss Chikane to 10 years and similar sentences to the others he found guilty.

In 1989, the Appeal Court overturned the sentencing and the Delmas trialists were released. The trial was the longest political trial in South Africa, with 437 days in court.

The following story comes from an article on the Delmas Treason Trial, in Learn and Teach No. 3, (1988):

The “Palace of Justice” in Pretoria has a special place in the history of South Africa. It was in this building that Nelson Mandela and his comrades were sentenced to life in prison for plotting to overthrow the government of this country.

Now, 24 years later, 19 men are on trial in the same courtroom. They too are being charged with plotting to overthrow the government. If they are found guilty, they too could be sentenced to life in prison – or maybe even death.

The trial in Pretoria is known as the “Delmas Treason Trial” because it was in the small eastern town of Delmas that the trial began nearly three years ago. The trial, one of the longest in this country’s history, was moved to Pretoria in August last year.

When the trial began in June 1985, 22 men stood in the dock. But in November 1986 the judge said three of the 22 were innocent and he set them free.

‘We are not guilty’

The other 19 are still facing charges of treason, subversion, murder, terrorism, and furthering the aims of the African National Congress and the South African Communist Party.

Most of those on trial are members of the United Democratic Front and its member organisations. One is a member of the Azanian People’s Organisation, and one is a member of Azanian Youth Unity.

Most of the accused come from the townships in the Vaal Triangle. Many of them were members of the Vaal Civic Association (VCA).

The accused have told the court that the VCA was started in October 1983 to fight for better living conditions for the people of Sharpeville, Sebokeng, Boipatong, Evaton, and Bophelong. It was one of the 17 organisations banned by the government in February this year.

When the Lekoa (Vaal) Town Council increased the rent and service charges in August 1984, the VCA called protest meetings. On September 3, it led the residents on a march to the council offices. But the marchers never reached the offices. The police shot at them. People say they gave no warning.

The 19 accused are being charged for the troubles that began in the Vaal on September 3. They are also being charged for the ‘unrest’ that afterwards spread through other parts of the country.

At the beginning of the trial, all the accused pleaded not guilty to the charges. They said that it was true that they had fought against apartheid and injustice. But they say that at all times they used peaceful methods and that their organisation worked legally and openly.

Three years of hardship

All the accused have suffered greatly in the past three years. The three UDF leaders, Popo Molefe, Patrick ‘Terror’ Lekota and Moses ‘Moss’ Chikane are still in jail. They have been behind bars since April 1985. They have asked for bail five times – but each time the judge has refused.

Molefe was arrested a month after his wife gave birth to a daughter. Lekota and Chikane’s wives gave birth after their husbands were already charged.

The other 16 are out on bail – but they are not allowed to go home. Most of them live by themselves in Johannesburg. Most days they travel to court in Pretoria – and when they do not have to go to court, they must report to a police station twice a day.

The 19 know that it is not only their own innocence that they must prove. Another 911 people are also named in the charge sheet. Some of these are well known people like Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Rev Frank Chikane, and Dr Beyers Naude. There are also 50 youth, women, worker and community organizations named.

If the 19 accused are found guilty of treason, then all the other people and organisations named may also be charged with treason.

As one of the accused says: “What happens in this trial is important for everybody in the struggle. It is a challenge to those peaceful methods that people have been using to unite people against apartheid.”

Troops occupy the townships
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The state responded to the Vaal unrest and the almost total boycott of the coloured and Indian elections: in October, 1984, the government sent 7000 South African Defence Force troops into the black townships of the Vaal to crush the uprising. They named this “Operation Palmiet”.

The UDF and the newly formed organisation called The End Conscription Campaign (The ECC), demanded SADF troops out of the townships.

In November UDF affiliates in the Transvaal organised the biggest work stay away in 35 years. This was done through civics, youth groups, trade unions, and other township-based organisations. The UDF national leadership was in disarray at the time, from detentions, in hiding, and unable to meet.

The Transvaal stayaway showed the power of mass action. But it did not stop the repression. Both the mass violence, and the government repression spread further.

Over the first part of 1985, police and the SADF were deployed in townships throughout the country. Police and the army fired on crowds, often on people gathered to bury the dead from earlier shootings. Leaders and activists were detained. Communities – both in urban and in rural areas – turned on those people seen as working for the government – policemen, “community councillors”, government informers, “collaborators”. Some were killed; others fled.

Reaction: The Transvaal stayaway

The following is from Learn and Teach No. 6 (1984), p1-3:

For two days in November, most factories and firms in the big cities of the Transvaal were empty and silent. The workers were showing their anger. And they were showing their muscle – the muscle of unity.

For the first time in many years, old arguments and fights were forgotten. All kinds of student organisations, community organisations, and worker organisations came together. They came together to make the stayaway work.

The stayaway did work. On the East rand, 80% of the workers stayed in the townships and in the compounds. In the Vaal townships, 90% of the workers stayed at home. And few people from the West Rand and Pretoria went to work.

The people … made a list of all their demands:

• No more rent increases in the townships
• No more bus fare increases
• No more tax and GST increases
• No more police and army in the townships
• No more community councils in the townships
• Trade union leaders and other leaders must be freed from jail …

The people did not rush into the stayaway. On October 28, the students called the stayaway. People chose a special committee to plan for the stayaway.

The committee decided to have the stayaway on November 5 and 6 …

“workers need time to decide such things”, says a shopsteward from a big factory in Johannesburg. “People who don’t work in factories must not tell workers to stay away. Workers must talk about things like stayaways. They must have meetings and decide for themselves.”

The stayaway worked well because of another reason – hard work. People from many organisations handed out pamphlets on the trains, in the buses, in the streets and in people’s houses. All day and all night the people worked to make the stayaway a success.

The stayaway was a big success – but the price was heavy. In the townships 25 people were killed – mostly in battles with police. Many leaders of the stayaway were arrested and are now sitting in jail

And in Secunda, the bosses of the big Sasol factory fired 6500 workers – because they supported the stayaway.

Many people suffered because of the stayaway. But they showed the government their strength. Now they are waiting to see if the government will listen.

Into the State of Emergency
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On July 21, 1985, State President PW Botha announced a State of Emergency in 36 magisterial districts. 

The Government reimposed the State of Emergency every year after 1985, changing restrictions and increasing the areas that it affected. By February 1988 it was estimated that 25 000 people had been detained under the Emergency regulations. By the end of 1987, 1200 people were known to be in detention (it was illegal to publish the names of people detained); of these, 400 had been in detention for over two years. 

On February 24, 1988, the minister of law and order published new Emergency regulations, banning the UDF and 16 other organisations. Under this order, the banned organisations were only allowed to take legal advice, and to keep financial accounts. They could not hold meetings, run campaigns, publish media, and hold protests …

What did living under a State of Emergency mean for a person? What did it mean for people who were known as activists in community organisations and in the UDF?

July 1985: news headlines: ‘what is happening in our country?’

Over the year following the Vaal Uprising, the government cracked down viciously, using both legal and illegal means. Government forces struck out at the UDF, at the grassroots organisations affiliated to it, at activists and people in the street, and at the liberation movement in the underground and in exile (see related poster).

On March 21 – the anniversary of the 1960 Sharpeville massacre – police opened fire on a demonstration in Uitenhage, killing 20 people.

On May 8, three leaders of the Port Elizabeth Civic Organisation, Pebco – Sipho Hashe, Qaqawuli Godolozi and Champion Galela – were abducted and murdered by South African security police.

On June 14, the SADF attacked the homes of people in exile in Botswana, killing 12 people.

In July, four leaders of the Cradock community, Matthew Goniwe, Fort Calata, Sicelo Mhlauli and Sparrow Mkhonto (the Cradock Four) were found murdered.

On July 21, the government declared a State of Emergency in 36 magisterial districts. The Emergency gave police and other officials wide powers to detain people, without revealing their names; it allowed them to ban meetings and organisations; and to prevent media from reporting on unrest and protests.

At least 136 UDF officials were known to be detained in the first swoops under the new regulations. Within months the numbers of people detained was in the thousands.

On August 1, lawyer and activist Victoria Mxenge was murdered in Durban.

In August, the largest UDF affiliate, the Congress of South African Students (Cosas), was banned.

Reverend Allan Boesak, president of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, and member of the executive committee of South African Council of Churches at the meeting of the Special Committee against Apartheid, said in a statement released on July 24 1985:

“I cannot begin to describe what has been happening in South Africa since the declaration of a State of Emergency last Saturday. I must say, however, that even before the formal and official declaration in the townships, our people were experiencing a reign of terror conducted by the South African police and the South African Defence Force that was equivalent to a State of Emergency. Even before Saturday, an unofficial curfew was in operation in our townships and many of our people were shot at and killed when they moved around after dark. Even before the State of Emergency, many people were detained without trial, arrested without cause, tortured in the goals and shot like dogs on the streets of our nation. Even before Saturday, we knew of the death squads that were roaming our streets and receiving uncommon protection from the police and the South African government. These are the well-known facts that disturb us about South Africa.

“In the last few months, more than 10 000 people have been detained without trial; of those, some have been released, some have been charged with treason, while others have simply disappeared. We do not know what has happened to those who have disappeared. A pattern is emerging, however, that has persuaded us that what we are seeing is a systematic assassination of the middle level of leadership, not only of the United Democratic Front, but of other organisations as well.

“We do not know exactly who these people are, although we have raised critical questions about the disappearances and deaths of certain leaders in South Africa which have not been answered satisfactorily by the South African government or by its police.”

For full speech, go to:
http://www.anc.org.za/un/ngo/sp072485.html

The following is an article written in 1985 explaining how the State of Emergency could affect those opposing apartheid:

The police in South Africa have always had many powers. But on Saturday July 21, the state president gave the police even more powers …

1. They can search your house and take away anything they want.
2. They can stop any meeting.
3. They can arrest you and keep you in jail for 14 days. If they want to keep you longer, the minister of law and order can sign an order – and then they keep you for as long as they like.
4. The head of police can stop the newspapers from writing anything about the places [magisterial districts or geographical areas] under the State of Emergency.
5. The newspapers cannot give the names of people in jail – even if someone says their son and daughter is in jail. The papers can only print the names that the police give them.
6. The emergency laws give the police many other powers. In some places they have started curfews …
7. You cannot do anything if you are unhappy with the police or other people with special emergency powers. You can’t take them to court – no matter what they do to you.

The rights of people in detention

People who are detained under the emergency laws have very few rights:
1. Your family can bring you clothes and some money to buy cigarettes and things like soap. You can’t get any books for reading or for study. You can only read a Bible.
2. Your family can visit you – but only if the commissioner of police gives permission.
3. You must get one hour of exercise a day.
4. The district surgeon (doctor) must visit you.
5. They can lock you up all on your own. And if you break their rules in jail, they can punish you. They can fine you – and if they want, they can even whip you.

What to do if someone in your family is detained

1. Finding a detainee: find a good lawyer to help you. The police do not always listen to the families of detainees. If you do not know a good lawyer … the Detainees’ Parents’ Support Committee (DPSC) and the Detainees’ Support Committee (Descom) …will help you to find a lawyer. … Ask the lawyer to find out if your relative is in detention – and at what jail they are holding your relative.
2. Parcels: detainees can get clothes and money – if there is a shop in the prison. If there is no shop, they can get food parcels. Ask the lawyer to help you get permission to take parcels.
3. Visits: you can ask for visits. You must say why you want to visit …
4. Doctors: if the detainee has a sickness or a health problem, you must tell the doctor at the prison …
5. Help with money: if the detainee is the breadwinner in your family, speak to an organisation called the Dependants’ Conference. They will give you money for rent and food.
6. Start a care group: try to start a care group with the detainee’s friends and family. ... For example, the group must tell the detainee’s employer about the detention … They should try to help the detainee’s family – and to keep their spirits high.

printed in Learn and Teach no. 4, (1985)

Detention
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Dr Coleman, an official of the Detainees’ Parents’ Support Committee (DPSC), gave this statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) on the number of people detained without trial, and the use of detention without trial against the youth and children:

We come now to detention without trial … we estimate that at least 80 000 detentions have occurred from 1960 right up until 1990. And most of them actually occurred from 1985 onwards during the States of Emergency.

Children and youth featured very prominently. Again we had tried to make an assessment … of just how many people were detained and how many amongst them were children and youth. For this assessment, we have drawn from monitoring of our own organisation, monitoring by other organisations and also official information which was obligatory under the Public Safety Act, and certain police affidavits in court revealed a lot of information.

From that we are able to arrive at what we regard as a conservative analysis that there were a total of 80 000 detentions, amongst whom there were about 48 000 youth – in other words 60% of those detentions. This is during this period to 1989.

And within that about 20 000 children, 25%. As far as age is concerned, this went down to as young as seven. Sometimes entire schools, preparatory schools were detained. As far as the gender of detainees, we found that something like one in eight, about 12% of all detainees, were women and girls.

So that we would estimate that 10 000 women and girls were detained in this period (from 1960 – 1989) of whom 6000 would have been youth, 25 and younger, and 2500 would have been children under the age of 18.

Torture and assault in detention: here again we estimate that one in four detainees would have been abused by torture or assault before they were finally released. This estimate we make from countless numbers of interviews with detainees after their release; we regard that one in four as a very conservative figure.

And of course assault begins at the arrest stage. Interrogation follows and that could take place either in army camps, under the control of the South African Defence Force or in prison cells by the members of the SAP particularly the security police.

And torture during interrogation can only be described as routine and that included electric shocks, suffocation, beatings as we’ve heard this morning, suspension, sleep deprivation and so on.

It is important to note what the purposes of torture were. They were basically to extract names of colleagues for additional detentions, to extract confessions and information and to intimidate and to try to pressure people into becoming informers.

And of course a byproduct of torture and assault in detention, is death in detention. It is inevitable. And deaths have occurred. We assessed that, or we have records of, 73 deaths which have occurred in security detention during this period.

And with them, there were of course deaths of young people. So of the 73 deaths that we have recorded, we know the ages of only 53 of them and within that 53, a third of them, were young people, 25 years of age and younger.

And there was even one young man under the age of 18 who died in detention. And it is actually interesting to examine the official causes of deaths in detention, such as the familiar ones like suicide by jumping, accidental fall from the 10th floor and so on, slipping on the soap. What happens frequently is a verdict given within a magistrate’s court or inquest courts, of suicide by hanging. This comes up at a rate of about 50% of all deaths in detention, suicide by hanging.

One has to ask the question, how many of these suicides by hanging were genuine and how many were simulated? And whether they were simulated or induced by the conditions of detention, it is a tragedy either way. One needs to note that detention or the fear of detention brought about what we call a large body of internal refugees, people on the run being scared of being picked up for detention and incarcerated for one, two, even three years.

So lots of young people lived away from their homes on the run, living a twilight existence. Hostage-taking was another rather disturbing event. When the security police arrived at a particular home and they could not find the particular person that they were looking for, the particular child, they would take a brother or they would take a mother or the father and say when your relative is found, then we will release you.

Then something which has been alluded to earlier today, mass detentions of schools. The special regulations that we heard about earlier during the State of Emergency which would allow the security forces to go into schools, was extraordinary: some of the actions in detaining entire schools, must have convinced the outside world that here was a government gone mad.

There were a couple of instances on August 22 and 23; over 800 schoolchildren were piled into trucks and taken away and kept overnight and then 360 of them were charged the following day, including an eight year old, if you can imagine that.

Another report was a school in September, all 786 pupils and 33 teachers as well of a Soweto Secondary School, were loaded into trucks by heavily armed police (indistinct) and detained in terms of emergency regulations for boycotting classes.

There was the issue of mothers and babies in detention. There were young, pregnant … women in detention. Young women giving birth in detention, young women nursing babies in detention and young mothers separated from babies whom they were nursing at the time.

Hunger strikes, there were numerous hunger strikes and in the Detainees’ Support Committee almost on a monthly basis we would receive letters from detainees, smuggled out of prisons, saying we are on hunger strike, please explain our plight to the world and we have one example of that in this document.

The national hunger strike of 1989 was a very important event in that all practically al, detainees who could, went on hunger strike and this was about 1000 of them and this actually pressured the authorities into releasing them and this had the effect of throwing open the gates of the jails. This was after people had been in detention for over two-and-a-half years.

We also discovered the existence of rehabilitation camps where young detainees were. Some of them were advised: ‘Look, we will take you to a rehabilitation camp and this is your way out of detention and there … you will live in comfortable conditions’. Obviously there was a sting in the tail, that these people were pressured to become informers and to engage in counter mobilisation organisations. We list the camps that were discovered, there were about six of them in various parts of the country.

Just briefly, the banning and restriction of children and youth: Many people when they were released from detention, were banned. In other words they had to be in their homes at certain hours, they couldn’t go to meetings, gatherings, they couldn’t associate themselves with various organisations. In other words what was happening was that their detention was being extended into their homes. And this was at no expense to the government. Some of these detention orders were quite extraordinary in that a person would be obliged to report twice to a police station on a daily basis and what – all that they were doing was going backwards and forwards between their homes and police stations and doing nothing else.

And of course, they could not engage in any formal employment. Political imprisonment, of course in the unrest, very large numbers of people were arrested for all kinds of reasons and brought to court and charged and to a certain extent convicted and again, we have tried to assess the numbers.

And it is assessed by us that during this period around 100 000 youths, aged 25 or less, have been arrested and tried in court with about 60 000 convicted and sentenced for politically related offences.

About half that number would be under 18. And of course it is important to note that not all sentences resulted in imprisonment.

One aspect of political sentencing were political executions. ... We have on record names of 49 prisoners who were executed by hanging. And amongst them were 16 who fall into the age group of 25 or younger.”

Organisations – a large number of youth and student organisations were banned either under the Internal Security Act or under the State of Emergency regulations.

The first wave of bannings occurred in October 1977 after the Soweto Uprisings. Nine such organisations were banned. The second great wave occurred in 1988, when 13 youth and student organisations were banned.

Gatherings – for 15 years there was a blanket ban which was renewed every year for prohibiting any outdoor gathering of a political nature.

Then in 1986, there was an additional blanket ban which was introduced, which forbade any indoor gatherings which related to advocating a number of things, including educational boycotts.

And then apart from these blanket bannings, countless thousands of individual gatherings were banned and of course … amongst the consequences were getting yourself killed or being assaulted or arrested in the course of gatherings which now became illegal.

Banning of publications – obviously the student press became a target and our assessment from all publications is that something like 10 000 publications were banned by the – or regarded by the publications control board–as undesirable and that possession or distribution of these was an offence.

There was one particular student newspaper, called Sasco National, which had a circulation of 60 000 copies. The apartheid state set out to smash Sasco National and amongst the things they did was, they banned certain editions for possession and made two attempts to ban all future editions. Then they detained and banned the two co-editors and finally the premises and equipment of Sasco National were destroyed in attacks by persons unknown.

– Source: Dr Coleman of the Detainees’ Parents Support Committee, TRC, Johannesburg Children’s Hearing, June 12, 1997.

Death squads and vigilantes
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On June 27, 1985, four leaders of community organisations in the Eastern Cape town of Cradock disappeared – Calata, Matthew Goniwe, Sparrow Mkhonto and Sicelo Mhlauli. They were last seen leaving a UDF meeting. Their burnt-out car was found near Port Elizabeth; the bodies were found a few days later, stabbed and burned.

Years later, at the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, several security policemen admitted that they had killed the four leaders.

The Cradock Four were buried at Ilingelihle township in Cradock on July 20. Forty thousand people attended the funeral. During the funeral, it was announced that State President PW Botha had declared a State of Emergency which would begin at midnight that night.

Perhaps one of the most telling stories of human courage is the story of the Cradock Four. Here, it is told by Matthew Goniwe’s wife, Nyameka, to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

“My name is Nyameka Goniwe, a social worker by profession. I am now working for the Social Changes Systems Trust  I got married to Matthew Goniwe, a teacher, in 1975 and have two children, Nabuswe who’s going to turn 21 in June and Nyanisa, who’s going to turn 14 in June as well.

Matthew came from a political family and his political activism was strongly influenced by the death of his brother, Jaques, who died in exile in the 60s. His active involvement began when he took up the post as a teacher at a village school in Kandule, in what was known as Transkei in the early 70s. He was arrested with four friends in 1976 for setting up a political discussion group or cell in Transkei. He was subsequently convicted under the Suppression of Communism Act and sentenced to four years’ imprisonment in 1977. After spending 15 months awaiting trial he served his sentence in Umtata Prison.

My ordeal started then. In 1976, the year Matthew was arrested, I was enrolled at the University of Fort Hare to do a degree in social work. In pursuit of my studies, I decided to leave my eight-month-old baby, which is Nabuswe, with Matthew’s mother in Cradock. My biggest challenge at the time was to be available to my baby as often as possible, to attend to my studies and also give support to my husband in prison. I remember that year being one of the toughest years I have faced in my life. I was short of money and had to rely on my brothers-in-law for assistance, and the small grant I used to get from the Dependants Conference of the SACC [South African Conference of Churches].

When Matthew was released in 1981 I had already completed my degree and was employed by the then Department of Co-operation and Development as a social worker in Port Elizabeth. During the same year I requested a transfer in order to be with him and my family. In 1982 he got the post of deputy principal at Nqeba High School in Graaff Reinet. The following year on his own request, he was transferred to Cradock as the deputy principal … of Semquale Secondary School. In July 1982, he was fully appointed as the principal of the same school.
Matthew was a brilliant maths and science teacher, but also a strict disciplinarian. These qualities earned him a lot of respect and praise in the community. His influence permeated to all the schools in Lingalishle. His interest in the youth attracted the attention of the security police towards him. He was also seen as a person who took an active role in rekindling the politics of resistance, especially during the Kenneth Calata funeral in 1982.
In August 1983, a new section of the town comprising of 279 houses was built in Cradock in the Lingalishle Township. This resulted in a new rental system being introduced which was based on a salary sliding scale. This was met with fierce resistance by the community and discredited the then community council. Matthew was at the forefront of this resistance. He also became instrumental in establishing a civic organisation in Cradock, known as Cradora and the youth organisation, known as Cradoya. He was then elected as the chairperson of Cradora and Fort, his friend and a fellow teacher, became the chairperson of Cradoya. The two organisations became UDF affiliates in 1983, linking up with other progressive organisations in the Eastern Cape, like the Pepco civic organisations in Grahamstown, Port Alfred, all over the Eastern Cape.

At the end of 1983 he received a surprise transfer from the Department of Education and Training to go back to Nqeba High School in Graaff Reinet, an act which he perceived to be politically motivated. He then refused to go in January 1984, a move that was fully supported by the community.

The Department of Education and Training (DET) dismissed him on the pretext [that] by refusing to go, he had dismissed himself. Protest in the form of petitions to the regional manager of DET , Mr Meerbold, and successive delegations that were led by the community to present his case, proved to be futile. It was clear that the arrogance that was displayed by Mr Meerbold had the backing of the security police. The response of the state was to bring in its forces to try and intimidate and break the community resistance. Running battles between the police and the youth became the order of the day. Violence escalated and the community decided to embark on a school boycott at the beginning of 1994, which involved about all seven schools.

The demands of the students that were put forward were the immediate reinstatement of Matthew Goniwe. The resistance intensified and this resulted in meetings being banned. In March 1984, Matthew, Fort Calata, Madoda Jocabson, Bulelo Goniwe were detained under Section 28 of the Internal Security Act, which allowed for six months detention. It became clear from this action that Cradock was regarded as a flash point by the past government and the detention was ordered to try and neutralise the situation.

The situation in the township worsened in their absence and violence escalated on a scale which was never experienced before. All school committees resigned. The pressure forced the security police to release Matthew and his colleagues. They were released on the 10th of October 1984 and were given a hero’s welcome by the community.
Matthew’s unpopularity with the security forces intensified. He was rated and regarded as an enemy of the state. This was also proved in the evidence which was led during the inquest court, the second inquest court proceedings in 1995, last year. He was also denied the right to own a house by the Linglishle Town Council for a long time, forcing him to live with his mother-in-law and his family, in an extended family home.

His movements were closely monitored by the security police, especially when he had to leave town. The whole family bore the wrath of the security police which took the form of harassment, early morning house raids, constant surveillance, death threats, phone bugging, short term detentions for questioning, mysterious phone calls, tampering with cars, etc.

Of all the death threats that Matthew received, there are three which stood out and also serve as a pointer that Matthew was a marked man. The first one involved the former head of the security branch in Cradock, Major Henry Fouché. It happened in an early morning while Matthew was taking me to work in town. On the way our car was stopped by Fouché and Matthew was pulled out of the car. He then pointed a gun at Matthew’s head, shouting, ‘I’m going to kill you. We were then driven to the police station, we were both searched, bodily searched and released later on. Matthew laid a charge against Fouché, which of course, never came to anything.

The second that happened was in Queenstown, when Matthew went to meet a friend and a fellow ex-prisoner. It became obvious that his movements were monitored from Cradock to Queenstown, because he was stopped on arrival and detained for a short while. He later told his family that he was threatened with death by the then head of security in Queenstown. I’m not sure of the name now, … Venter or Van Wyk. I’m sure it can be established later.

The third one happened whilst visiting Port Elizabeth to attend a UDF meeting [with Fort Calata]. Fort and Matthew were stopped and detained for a short while. They were threatened that a better and sophisticated police officer will be replacing Fouché at the beginning of 1985 and that one is going to sort them out. Indeed, a new head of the security branch, Eric Winter, an ex-Koevoet officer, took over from Fouché early in 1985.

The first thing he did was to visit our house to come and “talk” to Matthew. It was obvious that his visit was aimed at assessing him, after reading his file. I also got the impression that he came over to come and assess our house. The then Major Venter kept a lower profile than Fouché, making Matthew and the other activists in Cradock wonder what he was planning.
Matthew on another level, as if he was counting his days, worked with dedication to mobilise the community, using public meetings for political education. He also introduced street and area communities which became known as the G-Plan. His other aim was to broaden the leadership base and groom layers of leadership with the youth and the civic structures. The UDF supported his talent to organise people and elected him as a rural organiser in the Eastern Cape. His influence grew and spread to other areas in the Eastern Cape. As a rural organiser he had to attend UDF meetings every week on Wednesday.

On the 27th May 1985, a month before he was murdered, the South African Defence Force sealed off the township of Lingalishle …

Pamphlets denouncing Cradora and Cradoya, including the leadership as terrorists or terrorist organisations, were distributed all over the township. The houses of activists were searched, all this was done as a show of force and a show of military might. The message was clear from this event   that the attention of the state, through its security forces was focused on Cradock.

… On a Monday, the 24th of June 1985, Matthew telephoned the secretary of the UDF of the Eastern Cape region, Derek Swarts, informing him that he won’t be coming to the usual Wednesday meeting due to other commitments, but will be coming for a briefing on the 27th of June 1985 instead. He made a second telephone call on the 27th of June 1985 to confirm that he was coming. Both conversations were taped by the security police and a transcript of these telephone calls was produced as evidence during the second inquest. This confirms what we long suspected, that Matthew’s movements were closely monitored for 24 hours, in fact on the day he left for Port Elizabeth, with his friends and colleagues, his movements were monitored.

On the 27th of June 1985, he left for Port Elizabeth in the company of his friends, Fort Calata, Sicelo Mhlawuli, and Sparrow Mkhonto, and that was the last time we saw them. They were due back on the same night and when they did not come back, we knew that something serious had happened.

Early in the morning of the next day, I telephoned the UDF offices in Port Elizabeth. I also phoned Derek Swart and Molly Blackburn, to establish their whereabouts. Derek Swart informed me that Matthew left with his friends for Cradock the previous night of the 27th of June 1985 at about 9 pm. You can imagine the shock, and I shivered to think what might have happened to these comrades.

I kept the news secret for a while from all the families, excepting my brother-in-law, who was planning what to do next. The brother in law, Alex and I, we picked up a few activists and went and looked for them. We decided to drive towards Port Elizabeth, and on our way we stopped over at Cookhouse and Bedford police stations, to check whether they had seen them, but we drew a blank.

I just want to say something mysterious happened then, well not mysterious but very interesting. As we approached the police station, of course they didn’t know who we were up and till my brother-in-law identified himself. Immediately their whole mood changed and all the young police officers stood on guard, just in front of the door and we asked them whether they had seen them. And they said that the last time they saw them was a t 12 o’clock the previous day. And that also made us to wonder, because the police station in Cookhouse is far from the national road. Something clicked, it could be through their monitoring network that they picked up that Matthew was passing by at about that time.

A similar search party looked for them in the Port Elizabeth area with no result. We drove as far Patterson and returned back home. On arrival at home we were informed that the police had phoned, they left a message with a child, my brother-in-law’s son, to inform the family that Matthew’s burned car had been found near the Scribanta Racing Course outside Port Elizabeth. Immediately we knew that something serious had happened.

Of course we had pointers because in May, you know, the Pepco Three had disappeared without a trace. Relatives and the community were informed and some members of the family had to go to Port Elizabeth to establish what had happened. It was this group that also assisted the families to identify the bodies later on. So I alerted the press, the national media, international media and everybody of influence to try and put pressure onto the police authorities, or the government to produce them. Of course, during those days anything could have happened, I mean we thought of detentions, whatever.
The community immediately embarked on a school and a shop boycott to add more pressure on to the government. On Saturday the 29th June 1985, the bodies of Sparrow Mkhonto and Sicele Mhlawuli were found first and those of Matthew and Fort were found on the 2nd of July 1985. All the bodies had multiple stab wounds and were badly burned.

Our lawyers during the second inquest argued that Matthew was monitored for 24 hours, a factor that was confirmed by Winter and Snyman who was regional head of the security branch of the Eastern Cape at the town station in Port Elizabeth during cross-examination. He couldn’t have slipped the police monitoring networks. Whatever befell him on that night of the 27th was known to the police and they killed him.

We have stated why we believe that Matthew had to die. We think that it was because he was seen as a person who was responsible for the collapse of the community council’s discipline in Lingalishle. We also think that he was also held responsible for disrupting the schools by instigating the students to engage in school boycotts… He was also accused of mobilising the people of Cradock and the neighbouring towns under the banner of the then banned ANC. They hated him for raising the level of political awareness of people in the rural areas. He was seen as a communist, a terrorist and therefore a dangerous man, who was a threat to the state.

– Source: Excerpts from Ms Nyameka Goniwe’s testimony before the Truth and Reconciliation Commission on the life, work, and death of her husband Matthew Goniwe, TRC, Human Rights Violations Submissions, East London, April 17, 1996

Bombs at Cosatu House and the UDF headquarters

The apartheid state did not only impose restrictions through declaring a State of Emergency, with the full might of the military, prisons, courts and police to enforce these restrictions. They also resorted to the illegal use of force.

On May 7, 1987, “forces unknown” bombed Cosatu House.

In Februrary, 1988, the state passed new restriction orders on the UDF, Cosatu, and 16 other organisations.

On August 31, 1988, “persons unknown” blew up Khotso House, the headquarters of the South African Council of Churches (SACC), which also housed the UDF national offices.

Dilip Waghmarae describes his work as media officer for the UDF in 1988:

“I would leave Benoni at 6:30, go to Johannesburg Photo Agencies by 8; finish there at five; go to Khotso House (before it was bombed). I used to walk, be there from 5:30 to midnight, two, three o’clock. I would stay with a friend. My mom stayed at home, alone in Actonville.

One night I said, ‘I’m taking a break, I have to go see my mom’ – and we all left early. That night, Khotso House blew up.”

Peter Story, who worked for the South African Council of Churches, described the scene in testimony to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission: “When we got there we were met by a scene of utter devastation. I have never seen anything like it in my life.”

The blast blew all the windows out of Cornerstone House, a building opposite Khotso House, in which the SACC housed a number of pensioners and people with mental disabilities.

All of them had come out of their rooms, and Storey found them wandering around in their night clothes in a daze. “Some of them were bleeding – their faces and their forearms had been lacerated. Some were in such shock that they could not reply to me when I asked them how they were.”

Storey said the windows of Cornerstone House facing Khotso House had been blown out and pieces of steel and masonry – projectiles from the blast – were embedded in the walls opposite the windows. He did not know how everybody survived – the most likely reason was that the window sills in the building were high and sheltered people from the explosion.”

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission reports that security forces bombed Khotso House, Johannesburg, on September 1, 1988, causing extensive damage.

Former Minister of Law and Order Mr Adrian Vlok and former Commissioner of Police General Johannes van der Merwe were part of a group that was granted amnesty today for their involvement in the bombing of Khotso House in 1988.

Also granted amnesty for the same offence are former senior and junior security police officers, General Gerrit Erasmus, Willem Schoon, former commander of the C Unit at Vlakplaas, Eugene de Kock, Wahl du Toit, Paul Erasmus, Douw Willemse, Charles Zeelie, Andries van Heerden, Izak Bosch, Jacob Kok, Larry Hanton, Nicholaas Vermeulen, Hendrik van Niekerk Kotze, George Hammond and Michael Bellingan.

Amnesty was granted to all applicants in respect of public violence and malicious damage to property, and the unlawful possession of arms, ammunition and explosives for the purposes of bombing Khotso House.

They were also granted amnesty for defeating the ends of justice, by inter alia spreading misinformation about the possible involvement of Shirley Gunn, in the explosion and any other offence directly or indirectly linked to the explosion caused at Khotso House based on facts disclosed in evidence before the committee.

Evidence was led before the committee that Minister Vlok discussed the plan to bomb Khotso House with General Van der Merwe who was then head of the security police. They submitted a report to PW Botha, the then state president, and the matter was discussed by the Security Council.

– Source: Amnesty Decision - Khotso House Bombing, TRC, August 5, 1999. www.justice.gov.za/trc/PR/1999

Natal violence before 1990

The police have also demonstrated bias by detaining UDF supporters. The Inkatha/UDF detention ratio for the period from July 1987 to July 1989 was 1:50.54. In 1987 there were approximately 1000 UDF detainees in the Pietermaritzburg area; only some 10 Inkatha detainees. Police obstructed peace efforts between the UDF and Inkatha when they detained key UDF representatives scheduled to appear at peace talks in November 1987 and February 1988. In March 1988 the police arrested, photographed, and released any male over 15 they could pick up on the street of the UDF strongholds of Sobantu and Ashdown. Although SAP spokesman Brigadier Leon Mellet claimed that the hundreds of UDF youths near Pietermaritzburg were detained for crimes, not their political affiliation, few were ever charged although most spent several months and some more than a year in detention. Prisoners went on hunger strike in February and March 1989, demanding either to be charged or released. Minister of Law and Order Adriaan Vlok later ordered hundreds to be released, causing the pattern of police detention to change in 1989 to short, intensive interrogations and threats. – From “The violence in Natal” in Human Rights Watch Report on the killings in South Africa, January 1991

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