Towards Safer Cities?: Crime, Political Transition and Changing Forms of Policing Control in South Africa1

Mark Shaw
Senior Researcher, Institute for Defence Policy (IDP)

Published in African Security Review Vol 4 No 5, 1995

INTRODUCTION

Political and social transformation have had a profound effect on South African cities. New and non-racial forms of democratic local government are being established and reconstruction and development have begun. The process, however, has been far from painless: while political violence is generally on the decline - although parts of KwaZulu-Natal remain the exception - rising levels of crime have characterised the transition to democracy in South African cities.

Maintaining order in the cities during the period of reconstruction and democratisation is critical to the health of the new society. The failure of the police to counter levels of crime has lead to disillusionment with the new government on law and order issues and a potentially greater propensity for citizens to take the law into their own hands. An increase in levels of disorder have occurred simultaneously with policing agencies of the state undergoing fundamental changes. Also, new private and local authority policing institutions are beginning to solidify in society.

This article is an attempt to analyse these processes. It traces the decline in political violence that marked the end of South Africa’s transition to democracy and attempts to explain growing levels of crime and their relationship, if it exists, with the political and social transformation of society. It focuses in particular on attempts to control crime since the Government of National Unity (GNU) took office in May 1994. It includes an overview of changes in the South African Police Services and new initiatives in city policing. Finally, changing forms of private and self-policing are examined and the implications for the future of policing the city in South Africa are considered.

FROM VIOLENCE TO CRIME?

The transition to a fledgling democracy in South Africa saw intense conflict: about 16 000 people died between 1990 and 1994 in internecine violence2, the majority of which was concentrated in the country’s urban complexes.3 Since the 1994 election, political violence has dissipated, although it has not ended, but crime has continued to increase, as it did during the first four years of the 1990s.

Violence began before 1990, but increased from June 1990 in KwaZulu-Natal and on the Witwatersrand. Deaths in KwaZulu-Natal rose from an estimated 800 in 1989 to more than 1 500 in 1990, dropping slightly in 1991 and 1992 but increasing to a high of 2 009 in 1993.4 Violence started rising in the year negotiations began, and peaked in the year they ended.

Better policing and monitoring seems to curb some of the violence. However, it changed its pattern, not its extent. By 1993, pitched battles between antagonists had waned, only to be replaced by drive-by shootings and hit-and-run attacks.5 The visible parties to the conflict were replaced by invisible ones. The result was a conflict which was even more lethal: by 1993 more people were being killed than wounded.6 The resumption of all-party talks in March, after a dispute about state involvement in the conflict, coincided with a sharp rise in violence, after it had decreased for the first part of 1993: monthly deaths for the first two months of the year were little more than half of 1992’s monthly average.7

Explanations for the violence varied. Some claimed a conspiracy on the part of the apartheid regime. Violence, they tried to show, peaked when there was a breakthrough in negotiations; either its architects were those who did not want a settlement or it resulted from a strategy of the National Party (NP) to weaken its bargaining partners.8 There was some evidence of state involvement: senior police officers had been implicated in weapons smuggling and support of the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) while ongoing violence had shown the police to be biased against the African National Congress (ANC) and its allies.9 But there was no evidence of a link to the highest levels of the NP, nor could this theory explain why the conspiracy did not try later to disrupt an election which was likely to and did end the NP’s reign. As it was, the complexity of the conflict denied simple conspiracy theories that sketched all perpetrators of conflict as mere puppets of Pretoria’s intentions. Where there were conspirators, they encouraged and worsened existing conflict, they did not create it out of nothing.

A second view blamed political rivalry, for which ample evidence could be found. By the beginning of 1993 the political dimensions of the conflict were almost beyond dispute as participants clearly labelled themselves as being either ANC or IFP. Violence in KwaZulu-Natal assumed war-like proportions with opposing political groups battling for territorial control on the urban periphery, while around Johannesburg internecine conflict simmered as streets, blocks, houses and hostels were claimed to be the territory of one or other political party.10

However, to view the violence purely as a political clash would obscure the underlying causes of the conflict. There was evidence, for instance, that violence often began for a variety of other reasons – many related to local disputes or grievances – that acquired political labels over time. Monitoring evidence also showed that the political nature of the conflict was not always clear, with one survey showing only about seven per cent of violent acts reported as an ANC/IFP clash in 1991.11 Furthermore, only about one quarter of those involved in conflict in certain areas of KwaZulu-Natal in 1990 could identify political leaders and explain the ideologies of the parties whose interests they were meant to be defending.12 In turn, some of the violence took place not only between opposing political groups, but also within them.13

Conflict was also most common in areas on the Witwatersrand and in KwaZulu-Natal that were characterised by desperate poverty. It often seemed to take the form of a battle for access to meagre resources on the urban periphery, a fight between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ even though they were indicated as belonging to different political parties. This suggested at least that structural and material factors were significant causes of violence that would not necessarily alter after the transition to democracy had been completed.14

The election did lead to a decrease in conflict, at least in the short term. The participation of the IFP in the poll meant that all parties participated, with the exception of the white far right. The IFP’s late entry ensured that there was little time for the party and its rivals to campaign in each other’s territories.15 Conflict fatalities dropped from more than 500 in the month before the poll, to less than 100 in the post-election months.16 The election did not end violence altogether. By mid-1995 KwaZulu-Natal was once again simmering. In August nearly 100 people were killed in the province in continuing violence and more than 200 houses burnt down, with monitors describing the province as being in a "situation of near anarchy".17

The election also gave rise to new, but interconnected fears that the country was sliding into criminal anarchy. South Africa’s crime problem is not a recent phenomenon: the society has already been termed as "crime generic" in the past by commentators.18 The decade between 1980 and 1990 in which the apartheid state came under the greatest challenge showed significant increases in crime. Police figures recorded that serious offences rose by 22 per cent, and less serious ones by 17 per cent; murders increased by 32 per cent, rape by 24 per cent and burglary by 31 per cent.19

The increase in levels of crime peaked in 1990, the year in which the political transition process began. Recorded levels of almost all crime showed absolute increases for the period 1990 to 1994. While the murder rate declined by seven per cent parallel to declining levels of political violence (from 16 042 fatalities in 1990 to 14 920 in 1994), other crimes increased significantly during this period: assault increased by eighteen per cent, rape by 42 per cent, robbery by forty per cent, vehicle theft by 34 per cent and housebreaking by twenty per cent. 20 There was also an increase in the crimes of the affluent: white collar crime increased over the period, although no accurate figures were available.21 Trends throughout the country were not uniform, with the greatest increases occurring in urban complexes around Johannesburg, Durban, Port Elizabeth and Cape Town.22

The rise in criminality in the country is not a typically South African phenomenon. Comparative evidence suggests that crime increases significantly during periods of political transition that are coupled with instability and violence. This was the case in Eastern Europe during the transition to democracy, and in the final days of the Soviet Union and the first days of the Soviet Republics. The Russian case contains added complexities: economic and political collapse has created a vacuum into which organised crime has expanded and in which current and former members of the security forces are active.23 In Northern Ireland it is feared that the promise of political compromise, the concomitant loosening of tight and opposing community bonds, the greater number of (armed) ex-fighters on the streets, and less vigilant policing, may herald an increase in crime.24 African evidence on the subject is scarce: a substantial increase in crime has apparently been experienced in Namibia in the run-up to and just after the election.25 The bonds keeping societies intact are loosened in periods of instability, seemingly making crime more likely.

While political violence has declined in some areas of South Africa, it may have left a legacy with important potential consequences for crime trends. Campaigns to retrieve illegal arms have been largely unsuccessful: slightly more than 1 000 fire arms were surrendered in two amnesties during 1994.26 The relatively easy availability of licences to legally own weapons - a consequence of permissive gun ownership laws - increases the stock of weapons available to criminals, who may acquire them legally or steal them from legal gun owners.

Violence has also weakened social control, producing marginalised groups that rely on conflict for a livelihood.27 This results in increased levels of crime as disaffected individuals (often township youth) become engaged in it. This fact is indicative of trends in crime rates for the near future.

Perhaps most importantly, rising crime rates, as has been the case with increased levels of violence since 1990, are almost certainly related to political, social and economic trends that have been in existence before the formal transition commenced, and that have been accentuated by it. Evidence suggests that crime rates in townships have been high for many years28, but that racial segregation largely insulated more affluent (white) areas from its effects. It seems likely, given the gulf between township residents and the police, that the majority of crimes have often remained unrecorded.

The erosion and subsequent collapse of apartheid boundaries allowed crime to move out of the townships and into the suburbs, where it was more likely to be recorded. Greater affluence in these areas, and in parts of black townships where barriers to black economic empowerment disappeared, increased the rewards available to criminals and the incentive to engage in more organised and sophisticated, forms of crime.

POLICING THE TRANSFORMATION

The apartheid order generated crime rather than controlled it. The police were agents of a state that created crimes through its efforts to erect moral, economic and political boundaries between the races. The South African Police’s (SAP) official historian conceded that, during the apartheid era, only one in ten members of the force were engaged in crime detection and investigation.29 Combating crime was subservient to the policing of apartheid and the maintenance of internal security.

As a result of the politicisation of the police during the apartheid era, the recent political transition also demanded a transition in the force. But, unlike the South African National Defence Force, the South African Police Service (SAPS) cannot turn inward for a period of reform after which it can return to the public eye to perform its task. Transition impedes the capacity of the police to combat crime, while crime places pressure on police transition. Current analyses of changes in the police force warns against the situation where "restructuring of the police is treated in virtual isolation from the societal conditions within which the institution is embedded".30

Public concern at the growth in crime rates coincides with a period in which the police has been subjected to severe stress due to the transition. Inevitably, the police transition has not been smooth. Visible conflict within the force, revelations of past police brutality, continuing corruption and ebbing police morale, evident in the 142 police suicides in 199431, are further undermining prospects for the maintenance of order. Reform within the SAPS is progressing slowly against a backdrop of increased restiveness among officers of all ranks and the departure of significant numbers, with half the general staff having resigned since June 1994.32 Police unrest has been crushed by the army in Transkei, police recruits in KwaZulu-Natal were rejected by the national government because they were allegedly unfit to protect the public, and claims of internal racism and poor working conditions are on the increase.

It is hardly surprising then, that the latest figures show that the police solved on average only half of all recorded violent crimes.33 Crime by police officers has also undermined public confidence in the force: one in four officers in the Johannesburg area were investigated for criminal activity in 1994.34 Much will still have to be done before a national policy on crime prevention and control becomes a reality.

The process of transforming the police force has been in progress for some time. Initially the old SAP sought to control change by pre-emptively restructuring the force before the new political authorities took office. Changes have concentrated on civilianising the police and making it more service oriented. A focus on ‘community policing’ has been central to these changes in an attempt to encourage greater co-operation between police and public in the fight against crime.

The process has not been without controversy and many commentators argue that it has only been partly successful. Community police forums are often seen to be controlled by the police and community policing is frequently seen by both the public and the police themselves as a "softly softly" approach to the problem of crime. However, there is not necessarily a contradiction between greater police accountability to the citizenry and effective crime control. In the light of the brutal history of policing in South Africa, a police force more responsive to community needs is not only an appropriate strategy to fight crime, it is necessary in ensuring a police agency with which the public can co-operate.

There are obstacles to this transformation. Continued violence on the urban periphery in KwaZulu-Natal suggests that community policing strategies will be hard to implement when paramilitary methods are needed in the short term to police the conflict.35 In general, if police respond to demands to tailor their operations to democratic norms, immediate gains in crime control are not guaranteed and any benefits are only likely to become evident in the longer term. This imperils attempts at police reform since it will only yield limited - if any - reductions in crime for the time being, with pressures for a return to the authoritarian style of the past potentially growing. Or, it may divert resources badly needed elsewhere to policing matters, while current comparative evidence suggests that increased expenditure on policing do not automatically translate into reductions in crime rates.36

In comparison to other societies, there is a long standing assumption that South Africa is inadequately policed. Contrary to popular perceptions, the SAPS is proportionately not much smaller than police agencies in other countries. The combined police strength is 3,1 active force members for every 1 000 people, just slightly less than the European average of 3,5. However, policing resources are concentrated almost exclusively in white areas. Recent estimates suggest that eighty per cent of policing resources are concentrated in suburbs and city centres, while formerly black, ‘coloured’ and Indian areas are policed by the remaining twenty per cent, with African townships receiving an eight per cent share.37 South Africa is not only inadequately policed, but police resources are also spread unevenly.

At a national level, some senior police officers have conceded that the SAPS will have to reconsider its distribution, providing a more comprehensive service in townships, and leaving the suburbs to private security companies. ‘Normal’ models of policing have largely been confined to white areas, with suburbs traditionally well stocked with police services, while townships have been policed more for purposes of control than of crime prevention. With the focus beginning to shift, it is clear that the SAPS is not only ill-prepared to police crime in the townships, as it has to move away from the past instruments of political control such as informer networks, but it also does not have the required resources.

Adequate reform of the police will entail a fundamental shift of resources into townships, implying that the suburbs will receive less policing. It is further possible that some SAPS resources will have to be concentrated on areas of focus policing, such as drug trafficking, allowing ‘visible policing’ to be undertaken by other agencies. The implication is obviously an increased need for local authority and private policing. As a SAPS document candidly admits: "It is general knowledge that the different socio-economic classes of a national population will have different security needs. It is also assumed that safest measures are available to those who can afford it, because it is expensive. This can lead to public policing for the needy and private policing for the affluent. If this is the case what is the future of a national police service?’38

POLICING THE CITIES: THE FUTURE OF SAFETY AND SECURITY?

Sections of the citizenry are undoubtedly unwilling to wait for the uncertain benefits of police transition, and have made their own arrangements to protect themselves and their possessions. The result is a substantial growth in private security services, demands for the establishment of local authority policing agencies and possible new forms of self-policing, all of which could have an important impact on how South Africa is policed in future.

The political transition surprisingly seems to have weakened citizens’ anti-crime initiatives in some areas, such as neighbourhood organisations, and self-defence and self-protection units.39 As these responses are not necessarily subject to democratic rules, this seems to be a gain for democratic order, further reinforced by more recent initiatives in which civil society groups have united to fight crime without resorting to armed force.40 However, community policing initiatives, together with declining confidence in the ability of public institutions to maintain order, could prompt a resurgence in self-policing. While this will require careful management, these initiatives could strengthen police activities, and in a context that enhances democracy. This will be subject to the provision that where they emerge, they are regulated and encouraged to co-operate with the police rather than ignored or simply suppressed.

In addition, the debate on the appropriateness of forms of local authority policing has recently begun. Provision is made in the Interim Constitution for local police, although they are confined to "crime prevention".41 Given the proposed relationship between local police and local government, accountability may be easier to attain. Comparative and domestic examples suggest that local policing could help to counter crime in the city centre while performing a useful public service role. But opportunities for corruption and abuse of power still exist. Municipal policing could strengthen democratic order, provided that it is subject to regulation that ensures that diverse local forces will obey common democratic norms. However, the danger remains that if national government is too prescriptive of the standards that local authority policing has to achieve, as determined by the National Police Commissioner and the Minister of Safety and Security, then local forms of policing could be privatised and lines of democratic accountability may become blurred.

Indeed, private security has clearly benefited in wealthy urban areas from reduced reliance on self-policing. The industry is a growing reality, initially expanding by approximately thirty per cent a year and now outnumbering the public police.42 It is searching to assert itself as a source of effective protection against crime. However, it is not a homogeneous sector, with different components providing various services, and it has been difficult to consolidate and regulate due to internal competition. The relationship between private and public policing may be more complex than a mere withdrawal of the state from some areas of control on the one hand, and a replacement by private means on the other. The instruments of public policing have not contracted during the period when private policing institutions have grown.43 Private security enterprises have rather expanded as a result of increases in private property ownership44 and heightened perceptions that society is unsafe.45 In turn, societies emerging from periods of authoritarian rule, like South Africa, have personnel to staff growing private security sectors as a result of the numbers of demobilised combatants, often with few other marketable skills, available for employment.

The South African private security industry itself was partially spawned by apartheid policies. In order for state resources to concentrate on policing political dissent, the security apparatus encouraged its growth. The industry has a continuing close relationship with the state: private security puts mechanisms in place – guards, alarms and detection devices – to gather information that can be fed to the police: rather than decreasing demands on the police, private security may overburden it in some areas.46 In addition, the market for the industry is expanding into areas that have previously been the exclusive domain of the public police. ‘Panic buttons’ in some areas are no longer attached to police stations already inundated with calls - it is estimated that there are 400 000 panic alarms in Johannesburg alone - but are becoming the almost exclusive realm of private reaction units.47

In some instances private policing has directly replaced the public police. A small number of municipalities charge private security to local authority rates and taxes and award contracts to security firms to ‘police’ individual suburbs. City centres have not been excluded from this trend: for example, a private consortium polices a number of blocks in the city centre of Johannesburg. The growth in private security enterprises is also not exclusively confined to the wealthy parts of the urban environment. Former ANC combatants have established security firms in township areas to protect delivery vehicles and are selling their services to blocks of township residents.48

This expanding industry may harbour dangers to the developing democracy. These are inherent to the fact that security companies, mainly staffed by officers from the former SAP or similar apartheid agencies, will potentially protect the rights of their clients at the expense of everyone else, and further entrench the divide between the (privately policed) minority and the majority. The private security industry in itself does not constitute a threat to democratic order as it is too fragmented and competitive and needs to ensure a healthy relationship with the state. Indeed, the growth of the industry may contain some advantages. Private security could absorb personnel left redundant by the rationalisation of the military and the disbandment of the liberation armies, and it could reduce attempts at self-policing that have greater potential to threaten civil liberties.

The blessing, however, may be distinctly mixed. There is evidence that residents of the suburbs may react to crime by seeking to insulate themselves physically from the poor who are seen as its perpetrators. This is reflected not only in the use of private security, but in the changing architecture of cities that are increasingly characterised by walled suburban complexes. This could entrench and strengthen a form of social distance that would impede attempts to create a common South African loyalty. Private security could threaten citizens, as is evident in reports of private security officials being responsible for a number of cases of abuse49, and could entrench a divide between those who can hire personal protection and those who cannot. In the suburbs, the likelihood that the former will be mainly white and affluent and the latter mainly poor and black, may enhance racial and social barriers and increase the possibility that security will become, or at least be seen to become, a weapon used by the former against the latter. This would seriously erode a fundamental norm of democratic societies, that calls for policing to be uniformly available to all, with its powers exercised through universally applicable laws.

Endnotes