The violence that devastates lives on the Cape Flats is both a problem to address and a sign of a historical injustice. This wound is one that both Apartheid and post-Apartheid South Africa wilfully overlook. These communities were created through violence. Families were forcibly uprooted and separated during Apartheid and remained displaced in the post-Apartheid era.
By MOGAMAT REDERWAAN CRAAYENSTEIN
I write this after reading Imam Dr Rashied Omar’s article and witnessing the new tears of people in the days that followed.
Beautiful Cape Town
Cape Town is arguably one of the most beautiful cities in the world. From Adderley Street, you can travel for 20 minutes in various directions, reaching places that take your breath away. Few locations in the world have such stunning scenery so close to everyday life. It is also a city where, if you are a foreigner with, say, British pounds, you can retire very comfortably on a modest pension. You can also stay in luxury hotels for the price of a modest hotel room in London.
Cape Town, however, seen from the southern suburbs or Plattekloof shows both its beauty and its darker side. Travelling along the N2 or N1 highway, you pass through some of the most violent areas in the country. These regions are still part of Cape Town, but they are the less attractive parts of the city. The murder rate in these areas can be twice the national average. In certain parts of the Cape Flats, such as specific neighbourhoods, there can be more than five violent deaths in a single day.
The Nationalist Party during Apartheid created these communities through violent uprooting. People came from different parts of the city, having been ethnically cleansed, with only a few belongings. It was dreadful when we first moved to the Cape Flats. These communities were established far from where people had built complex lives since 1652. Three hundred years of social fabric were torn apart.
I commend those families where there were no casualties, and every child was able to live a full life. They defied the odds, along with the heroic parents and the communities of aunties who helped these children succeed.
a tapestry of violence on the Cape Flats
Mention Mitchell’s Plan, Manenberg, Hanover Park, Elsies River, Phillipi, Khayelitsha, Langa, Nyanga, Bishop Lavis – each of these places is associated with high rates of violence. I can also refer you to other areas in South Africa.
Some people are so desperate for a visible intervention that they believe the army must be called in to stop the violence. Others want more police to be visible.
Indeed, the army is not a sustainable solution. The army can create an environment where men with guns do not feel as free to roam around shooting randomly. Ordinary people might feel safer knowing that there are individuals with bigger weapons than the gangsters. However, murders and violence seem to be linked with alcohol and socialising over weekends. What will soldiers do in this situation?
More police are perhaps less limited than soldiers. Still, they too cannot resolve the socio-economic and cultural structures that shape how people see themselves and which, in turn, underpin the violent behaviours that poison communities on the Cape Flats. The violence reflects how people perceive themselves, and these underlying structures are reinforced. There is a vicious cycle between the socio-economic, political, and cultural institutions, the agency and subjectivity of communities and individuals, and the violent behaviours that concern some of us, and least of all our politicians who control the money that could ‘fix’ these issues.
Settler colonialism planted the seeds of violence
The violence that devastates lives on the Cape Flats is both a problem to address and a sign of a historical injustice. This wound is one that both Apartheid and post-Apartheid South Africa willfully overlook. These communities were created through violence. Families were forcibly uprooted and separated during Apartheid and remained displaced in the post-Apartheid era. Many conflicts linked to violence, whether domestic or community-based, originate from here.
Three hundred years of social fabric were torn apart to sustain Apartheid. Those 300 years were already an extension of settler colonial violence beginning in 1652. What we observe in Palestine today mirrors what happened in South Africa. Domestic conflicts, intensified by poverty, unemployment, and the lack of post-high school qualifications, along with a shortage of stable employment, long-term disability among parents, grandparents, and children, inability to afford basic food, overcrowded housing, and mental health struggles, are further worsened by cheap alcohol and illicit drugs. These conflicts seem resistant to intervention by soldiers or police with guns. Much of the violence is perpetrated by those the victims know. We are not yet discussing gangsterism. This is the violence that takes place behind closed doors – the most and the worst of it. What will the army or police do in these situations?
The police are necessary to maintain the state’s claim to a monopoly on violence. There is no doubt that the police are struggling to demonstrate that they are not a corrupt and collusive institution. Consider the leadership of the police in Cape Town. How many of these individuals truly understand what happens on the Cape Flats? This relates to the recruitment and appointment policies introduced by the government since the end of ethnic Apartheid.
Repair the frayed and broken threads of communities ripped apart
How can violence be prevented? In the past, when we had torn jerseys or threadbare socks, our mothers would mend them. Other garments would require invisible mending. Nothing was discarded. That is the kind of care needed to repair our violent communities. It demands professionals and community workers who know their communities intimately. There should be programmes for at-risk children, youths, and adults; young people must learn life skills to build healthy relationships; they need mentors who can guide them on how to succeed; schools require academic enrichment programmes; students need safe, supervised routes to travel to and from school; schools must provide food so that no student goes hungry; academic enrichment programmes are vital so that all students can thrive.
Recently, two highly acclaimed books have highlighted how Pagad was infiltrated and dismantled by the government and economic elites. However, gang violence and drug problems are larger than they were in the 1990s. We’ve seen how well-connected individuals captured the state, and no one has faced prosecution. We may not be taking criminal justice in South Africa seriously. A police commissioner in Natal accused politicians and top officials of being complicit with criminal syndicates. Similar claims exist about police on the Cape Flats. Why aren’t police from the Cape Flats recruited to tackle issues there? You can’t send officers who don’t understand the rhythm of the Cape Flats. Likewise, decision-makers must be knowledgeable. Until then, we can’t solve the violence, gangsterism, and drug issues on the Cape Flats. These are essential preconditions for reforming the state structures that interact with the area. It doesn’t require a nationwide consultation to address these problems; it can be done in a day. Yet, post-Apartheid South Africa has not dedicated even a day to fixing the Cape Flats. There wouldn’t have been a UDF without the Cape Flats.
Wicked problems
Gangsterism, drugs, and violence create a web of complex problems. This issue resists a simple definition of what it involves. There is also no point at which one can definitively declare the problem solved. When addressing this kind of issue, notions of true and false do not apply. Instead, more suitable labels are better or worse approaches. Every effort to make progress has consequences; one can only attempt once, and the nature of the problem shifts. Each intervention requires time, and even then, one can only reflect and learn from mistakes afterwards. There is no ready-made solution, nor can it be measured by key performance indicators required in grant applications. Given the involvement of individual, family, community, regional, and national issues, resolving these problems demands multiple stakeholders, with none more important than another. Every intervention alters the problem itself.
After Apartheid, the ANC government failed to address essential issues. Its Ministers of Finance and Presidents are committed neoliberal activists, aiming to weaken the state and privatise public services. This also aligns with another scheme, namely Black Economic Empowerment. Alongside white Apartheid elites, they and connected black entrepreneurs have been profiting at the expense of our communities on the Cape Flats. I am highly critical of the ANC, as my statements show. However, my criticism is tempered by the understanding that if the ANC had not accepted the contradictions of Apartheid South Africa into its organisation, the negotiations might have lasted even longer. A negotiated settlement to Apartheid was the most likely outcome. The ANC simply surrendered too much, while white South Africa made too small a sacrifice. Land and wealth redistribution were not addressed. Many of the problems facing the ANC today stem from the contradictions inherited on behalf of South Africa. Post-Apartheid South Africa owes a debt to the Cape Flats and all those rural communities mobilised by Reverend Alan Boesak and others. Many Indian traders in the Western Cape Traders Association funded numerous UDF projects. Post-Apartheid South Africa owes a debt to the Cape Flats.
The government does not have the money?
We have seen that the post-Apartheid government often claims it lacks the resources to address these issues. They do not have the funds because they receive directives from the IMF and World Bank. The Freedom Charter and RDP promised people something better than the suffering in which poor and working-class people are living. Neoliberalism sustains that suffering. It is clear they do not prioritise spending on ordinary people. They privatise the state, making some individuals extraordinarily wealthy while leaving certain communities desperately poor. State capture is not a victimless crime. Corruption often targets society’s most vulnerable members. It demonstrates how some individuals have become fabulously rich through privatisation and black economic empowerment. This represents neoliberalism at its most radical.
The idea of left-wingers with right-wing bank balances is the racket of post-Apartheid South Africa. It is possible to fund the reconstruction of the Cape Flats without creating new millionaires and billionaires. Communities must own all projects. Strangely, the state that cannot afford to fix historical problems finds money to address the consequences of its failures to intervene. Hospitals are overwhelmed with surgeries, casualty departments deal with violent injuries, overcrowded housing due to the lack of affordable public housing leads to various violent issues; students who attend school hungry do not perform well; classes are too large because there are not enough schools and teachers; those with mental health issues get no support; an old-age pension is often the only income in a household; avoidable teenage pregnancies occur; national and regional governments award tenders to gangs and drug traffickers; police sell guns to gangsters. The list goes on.
Interventions for this type of problem will need significant resources allocated at the community level. We have seen what happens when the government claims it cannot afford the costs. They end up bearing those costs every day, through murder, rape, unemployment, teenage pregnancies, and gang violence.
Secure the funds. Convene the summit. Let communities take charge of the process. Ensure that neither comrades nor capitalists profit from tenders aimed at solving these issues. Bring all stakeholders together. Grant each township at least twenty years to rebuild. This is a small window in nearly 400 years of settler colonial dispossession, displacement, and disinheritance, as well as thirty years of post-Apartheid neglect and marginalisation. If the ANC and the DA truly cared, they would hasten to advance this initiative. They may gain from the upcoming elections. Meanwhile, our communities continue to bear the burden. We are survivors, and we will have our day in the sun.
Addressing the violence issues on the Cape Flats requires recognising that poverty among so-called Coloured people stems from Dutch and British settler colonialism and Apartheid. Post-Apartheid efforts have done little to address this history. The Land Act of 1912 is insignificant compared to events like 1488, when the Khoi and San resisted Bartholomew Dias; the 1497 conflict with the Khoisan at Mossel Bay involving Vasco da Gama; and 1510, when the land’s original owners fought and defeated Almeida at the Battle of Salt River. Remember that Jan van Riebeeck did not arrive with land, cattle, and water. Poverty among so-called Coloured people has a long history. It was wrong to grant land only to ‘black tribes’. This erases a history documented by archaeological evidence across the country. For nearly 400 years, people have been erased from history. This erased history continues to haunt black post-Apartheid South Africa.
Politically, the so-called Coloured people have not been recognised. The issue has been raised regarding the Khoi and San. There has never been a time when the people of the Cape Flats were politically enfranchised. Looking back at the radical political tradition in the country, the Cape stands out as representing the best political visions our nation has ever experienced, following the founding of the ANC and PAC. The Black Consciousness Movement offered some hope. The UDF would not have made any impact without the communities on the Cape Flats and their relatives in rural areas. Indian traders surrendered their modest gains under Apartheid to support our struggle. Pamphlets were printed, halls and buses hired, but the sound equipment was never paid for. Who takes the Cape Flats seriously today? This political erasure dates back to 1652. Moreover, the DA completely trivialises this history of land claims sold to Amazon. The perspective of Franz Fanon, The Wretched of the Cape Flats, is rare. We are obsessed with the Stellenbosch Mafia, Brenthurst, and AfriForum. Our politics revolve around the interests of that 10% of the population who own 87% of the wealth. Most policies aim to protect this 10%, which today is no longer exclusively white. The Cape Flats remains marginalised.
Economically, one could ask why a child who manages to finish high school against all odds is so unlikely to find a proper job, or any job at all. How does that child afford deodorant and underwear? Many of those who do find work become permanent casual workers. Why has nothing changed for this child’s parents since the grandparents were uprooted and moved to the Cape Flats? Why is it that some of the comrades who came from the Cape Flats have become some of the wealthiest people in the country, and their families, boyfriends, and girlfriends hold tenders for all kinds of goods and services? They cannot spell ‘tender’ or the related goods and services correctly without making errors. Nothing gets delivered, but they move into fancy houses, buy expensive cars, and their children attend fee-paying schools.
I am not referring to what happens on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange and liberalised capital markets. Who prioritises the lives of ordinary people on the Cape Flats in the national agenda? I have seen the policy papers and summits convened by the government. They have nothing to do with the Cape Flats. Ten per cent of the population owns 87% of the wealth. That is what public policy focuses on in the country. A small group of well-connected ‘Africans’ makes up that 10%, and the concentration of wealth remains unchallenged. It has not been a concern for the past 30 years. Black Economic Empowerment is merely a smokescreen for well-connected black individuals who are paid to turn a blind eye.
Socially, our communities still exist within spaces shaped by the apartheid era. We now confront a form of racial apartheid where our communities are still largely defined by an apartheid mindset. There has also been some social mobility for those who have succeeded, enabling them to move into historically white areas. 1652 remains relevant today. The company grounds extended up to Buitengracht, Buitensingel, and Strand Streets. Beyond these areas lived formerly enslaved people, Khoi, and San communities. Land was confiscated from the Khoi and San and subsequently allocated to white settlers. This marks the origin of the northern and southern suburbs. Our social segregation has a deep-rooted history. What is the relationship between the people on the Cape Flats and those who control the politics and economy of the country? Why do the people of the Cape Flats rarely own the means of production? Why are they unable to claim a share of the 87% of the country’s wealth to create more community wealth, where water is shared among everyone rather than confined to individual boats? We put water under all the boats. Those without boats are given space in existing ones. The community builds more community-owned boats, ensuring no one is left behind or sinks into despair. There is no need to move from Bishop Lavis to Bishop’s Court; instead, we aim to fill that entire space with justice for all.
Eva Krotoa and Sarah Baartman exemplify the history of psychic oppression experienced by communities on the Cape Flats. Never recognised as clever enough, yet Krotoa was able to speak Khoi, San, Dutch, English, French and Portuguese. She could navigate at least four worlds simultaneously. When many people talk about the Cape Flats, they often mention Gammatjie and Abdoltjie. These caricatures of human beings still persist today.
I observe the violence on the Cape Flats and connect it to settler colonialism and the original sin of South Africa. It was not the Land Act of 1913; rather, it was the settler colonial displacement, dispossession, and disinheritance of the Khoi and San peoples. All these issues in communities on the Cape Flats can reasonably be traced back to those times. The ANC national government and DA provincial and city governments seem to forget this history conveniently.
The so-called Coloured Christian Zionists who pray for Israel are a sight to behold. They are descendants of this painful narrative. Their falsely religiously shaped consciousness leaves me breathless. They have no recollection of the Kairos process, where the Dutch Reformed Church, which was the Nationalist Party in prayer, was split because of racism. What Israel is doing to Palestinians today, and for the past 78 years, just as the British did before them, was done to our ancestors in South Africa. How can someone be a descendant of Eva Krotoa and still be an ally of Israel?
This struggle against violence on the Cape Flats runs even deeper than what has been noted earlier. It raises questions about what it means to be human within the context of settler colonialism, Apartheid, and post-Apartheid times. Do the hopes and fears, the smiles and tears of people on the Cape Flats matter less than those of people in Newlands, Claremont, and Platterkloof? The same logic that we apply to a Palestinian child in Gaza and a Jewish child in Tel Aviv is transferred to the Cape Flats. The life of a child born in Bishop Lavis must hold the same worth as that of a child born in Bishop’s Court. Why are the fears of mothers in Bishop Lavis so dramatically different from those of mothers in Bishop’s Court? Why is the journey of a child from the cradle to the grave so vastly different if the child is from the Cape Flats and the other is from the southern suburbs?
I fought against Apartheid, and I view post-Apartheid from the perspective of those from the Cape Flats. Only with this perspective can I hold myself and others accountable. We promised to end the poverty on the Cape Flats. I can only be true in my solidarity with Palestinians by examining the legacy of Zionist settler colonialism from the perspective of the descendants of Dutch and British settler colonialism and slavery. Malcolm X said, ‘Think globally (Palestine) but act locally (Cape Flats).’
We promised those who joined the struggle that we would improve their lives. That commitment was in the Freedom Charter and the RDP. We said that there shall be houses. The doors of culture and learning shall be opened. Then we got mugged by the World Bank and the IMF. The World Trade Organisation added insult to injury. The developmental post-Apartheid project that put people first was replaced, without consultation, by GEAR and ASGISA. We kept the empty shell of a state, and the rest was captured by comrades who became enormously wealthy.
From unzima lomtwalo to senzenina
What have we achieved? I read somewhere, ‘Oh, you who have faith, fulfil your promises.’ I also came across the words, ‘We have sent our messengers with clear proofs and given them the Book and the Criterion/ Scales, so that people can live in a just social order.’ Then I reflect on the songs of our anti-Apartheid movement, and the magnitude of our task becomes clear. We sang ‘Unzima Lomtwalo’. Thirty years later, from the perspective of the violence in the Cape Flats, only one song remains: ‘Senzenina Senzenina …’. Yet I read somewhere that ‘Our wish is to be generous to the oppressed. We shall make them leaders. We shall make them inheritors.’ Oh, the future appears promising from the viewpoint of the violent Cape Flats. This chaos will eventually come to an end. Karl Marx in the 18th Brumaire said that the working class cannot inherit the institutions of the bourgeois state and put it to alternative uses. We inherited the apartheid state and made it even worse. Very little that is new has been built. That was responsible for the political and economic factors that led to the 10% owning 87% of the wealth of the country. From the perspective of the people on the Cape Flats, it was not only irresponsible, but it was also callous. Marx also said that the social context of the revolution of the 19th century shall be determined by the poetry of the future. What is the poetry that shaped our visions for post-Apartheid? It was the Washington Consensus sung in harmony by the ruling elites from Apartheid, anti-Apartheid and post-Apartheid. We need another poetry. We need imaginations that are trained to desire differently, shifting from self-interest to justice for all, irrespective of differences in class, gender, ethnicity, religion, and national origin. We do not want justice for the people on the Cape Flats only. However, deeply engaging with the issues on the Cape Flats could help us address the country’s broader issues.
Indifference to violence is worse than the violence itself
Mr President and Mr Premier find the funds and call the meetings. The ANC might win the Western Cape again; alternatively, the DA might stay in power if they were to fix this problem. Just tell the comrades that this will not be a get-rich-quick scheme. Tackling violence on the Cape Flats is not a gravy train or a trough on Animal Farm. This violence on the Cape Flats is the underside of the so-called miracle of the Rainbow Nation. Rabbi Abraham Joshua said that indifference to evil is worse than evil itself. I echo Rabbi Heschel by saying that indifference to violence on the Cape Flats is worse than that violence itself. Who cares? William James says that indifference to evil is the one human trait that even the angels cannot bear. One thing is sure, and that is that angels have been weeping about the indifference of both the ANC and DA to violence on the Cape Flats.
