Politics & Society
Is South Africa Reverting to a Repressive State?
Since the Marikana massacre in 2012, several journalists, academics and media commentators have argued that South Africa is reverting to a repressive state. Could South Africa be turning into a repressive State?
Published
10 years agoon
By
Jane Duncan
Since the Marikana massacre in 2012, several journalists, academics and media commentators have argued that South Africa is reverting to a repressive state. They have interpreted violence at the hands of the South African Police Service (SAPS) generally, and Marikana specifically, as signs that the post-apartheid social order can no longer be held in check through consent alone. They argue that the ruling African National Congress (ANC) and other powerful actors have concluded that naked violence is now needed to stabilise increasingly fractious social relations.1 Some have even used the term “police state” to describe post-Marikana South Africa.2 As a police state is one where the police act as a political force to contain social dissent using arbitrary force, it is an important manifestation of a more repressive state.
How likely is South Africa to descend into a state of full-blown repression? How likely is it that there will be more Marikanas? Need- less to say, being able to answer these questions will have a major impact on the future trajectory of the country’s politics. There can be little argument with the statement that South Africa’s democratic government under its fourth president, Jacob Zuma, has strengthened the coercive capacities of the state, consisting of the police, the intelligence and the military and located in the Justice, Crime Prevention and Security Cluster. In fact, it would appear that this Cluster has become the praetorian guards of an increasingly embattled presidency.3 The well-reported growth in the levels of police violence against ordinary civilians and protestors and police militarisation are the most visible manifestation of this shift, as is the normalisation of the military in domes- tic policing functions, which suggests a growing militarisation of society.4 However, the huge public controversies over police violence and police militarisation, mask the fact that there are fundamental shifts in the coercive capacities of the state, away from overt repression and towards less visible, more pre-emptive forms of repression. What are the indicators of this shift and why is it significant?

Members of the Association of Mineworkers and Construction Union (AMCU) dance and sing around Wonderkop Hill during the 4th anniversary of the Marikana shooting in Rustenburg, South Africa, 16 August 2016. Photo: ANP/EPA/Kim Ludbrook
From Human Intelligence to Signals Intelligence
The first indicator is that intelligence work has become increasingly important to stabilising social relations. Surveillance provides the state with a politically low-cost form of social control, as abuses are very difficult to detect. Political surveillance is part of an arsenal of tools available to the state to pro- file problem subjects, and to use this knowledge to stymie protests they may consider to be problematic. The state can use such surveillance, or the threat of surveillance, to create fear that organised violence will be used against perceived opponents.
At the same time, the fear of being watched may force people to self-police their own behaviour.
In South Africa, the state has expanded its surveillance capacities over the past decade. In 2003, the Thabo Mbeki Presidency issued a directive requiring an expansion of the-then National Intelligence Agency’s (NIA) mandate to include political and economic intelligence. In the case of political intelligence, the NIA was to focus on “…the strengths and the weaknesses of political formations, their constitutions and plans, political figures and their roles in governance, etc”.5 These changes led to the intelligence services ballooning in size. A year later, signs emerged that intelligence operatives were becoming embroiled in internal factional battles in the ANC: a problem that was proved to exist by a Commission of Enquiry, which partly blamed the culture of secrecy in the intelligence services as a source of the problem.6
Shortly after Zuma took office, the domestic and foreign intelligence services were centralised into the State Security Agency (SSA). The political intelligence- gathering mandate has also allowed the government to normalise spying on domestic political groupings on the most tenuous of grounds.7
A document leaked to the media, and apparently summarising the SSA’s National Intelligence Priorities for 2014 (which are classified, although they should not be) – and which are developed every year to guide the use of the state’s surveillance capacities – states that the SSA should investigate and engage in counter-planning for a “so-called “Arab Spring” uprising prior to [2014 national] elections’.8 The SSA claims it will resort to the “maximum use of covert human and technical means” to counter these threats.9 The document’s citing of the Arab spring – a legitimate struggle against authoritarianism – is significant, as it implies that this protest wave in the Arab region was essentially illegitimate. In the South African context, the risk of such a priority straying from the covert surveillance of illegal political activity into legitimate activities should be self-evident: a risk that is strengthened by the SSA’s overly broad mandate, excessive secrecy, recent history of abuse of this man- date and inadequate reforms to increase public accountability.

South African Police fire stand guard during a protest by students supporting the “Fees Must Fall movement” outside the South African Parliament where South African Minster of Finance delivers his Mid-term Budget address in Cape Town, on October 26, 2016. Photo: ANP/AFP / Schalk van Zuydam
The risk associated with human intelligence is that the identities of intelligence operatives deployed to spy on organisations can always be uncovered, leading to politically-costly scandals about intelligence abuses. As a result, the intelligence community has taken advantage of the digital “revolution” to shift away from using human intelligence (intelligence gathered through physical means) to signals intelligence (intelligence gathered from communications surveillance). It is difficult to tell whether South Africa has embraced this global shift, but it would be unsurprising if it has. While the government’s targeted interception capacities are regulated in terms of the Regulation of Interception of Communications and Provision of Communications related Information Act (Rica), mass surveillance remains completely unregulated in terms of the law, which pre- disposes these capacities to abuse. In fact, not only does South Africa produce mass surveillance technology, but the state has funded its development10 and allowed it to be exported, including to authoritarian regimes such as Libya, where the equipment was used to spy on Muammar Gaddafi’s political opponents.11
From Militarised Policing to Intelligence-led Policing
The second indicator, closely related to the first, is the shift from militarised policing to intelligence-led policing. As its name suggests, this policing model uses risk assessment as its main tool to direct policing decisions about where and how to intervene. The model is more recent than para- military policing, as it was conceptualised in Britain and the United States (US) in the 1990’s, but it really gained currency after the September 11 attacks on New York and Washington. Intelligence-led policing relies heavily on covert techniques for crime- detection, including paying informants, spying on individuals and organisations, the use of Closed Circuit Television (CCTV ) cameras, communications surveillance and the interception of voice and data traffic.12
Intelligence-led policing does not necessarily make human rights violations go away; it merely makes them less visible. This form of policing encourages problematic profiling of individuals or social groups that may resort to crime, which can lead to stereotyping of particular social groups as being predisposed to crime. Activists who are considered to be politically threatening to existing ruling groups may be placed under surveillance to gain more information about their activities and to intimidate them, which risks chilling political activity. The US police used intelligence-driven policing to infiltrate organisations linked to the anti-globalisation movement, to identify and isolate “troublemakers”.13 But like overt forms of violence, generalised surveillance techniques also erode public trust in the state: in fact, the latter can do so more readily than the former as surveillance proceeds from the premise that states do not trust their citizens from the outset.

Intelligence-led policing relies heavily on covert techniques for crime- detection, including paying informants, spying on individuals and organisations, the use of Closed Circuit Television (CCTV ) cameras Photo: Centralhighlandssecurity
In South Africa, the Crime Intelligence Division of SAPS holds the key to this new policing strategy, so it is unsurprising that this Division has become so powerful (and controversial) in recent years, as this policing model makes it the lynchpin of policing strategies.14 Heightened power without heightened accountability is a recipe for disaster. A case currently being heard in the Pretoria Commercial Crimes Court points to members in the division having used the surveillance capacities of the state to spy on journalists. Yet, in spite of its increasing importance to policing work, there are signs of Crime Intelligence having lost its effectiveness, leading to a resurgence of organised crime.15
SAPS has embraced intelligence-led policing for several reasons. Police violence is eroding trust between the police and communities, making it more difficult to revert back to community policing.16 Yet at the same time, SAPS cannot risk many more high profile shoot-outs with protestors, as the long-term political costs will simply be too great. So, it stands to reason that the SAPS would search for a policing model that still allowed them to contain dissent using a less politically-risky approach, and intelligence-led policing provides just such a model.
From Post-hoc to Preemptive Repression of Protests
The third indicator is an increasing use of pre-emptive methods of containing protests through manipulations of the Regulation of Gatherings Act (RGA), to stop more protests from spilling out onto the streets in the first place. In a research study I led on the right to protest in eleven municipalities17 – and which involved the physical collection and logging of municipal data about gatherings and protests over a five year period (2008-13) – I found that none of the municipalities studied received a clean bill of health. A research team collected all notifications for protests and gatherings sent to municipalities in terms of the RGA: they yielded incredibly rich data about how many protests were taking place relative to gatherings, the rea- sons for the protests, the protest actors and municipal responses to the protests.

Police officers arrest a Congolese protester after a protest against the Democratic Republic of the Congo President, Joseph Kabila outside the DRC’s Embassy on December 20, 2016 in Pretoria. Photo: ANP / AFP John Wessels
The municipal and the police statistics suggest that the majority of protests take place peacefully and uneventfully, which is not the dominant image of protests either in the media or the public imagination. In fact, from SAPS’s Incident Registration Information System (IRIS) database for the areas with the most unrest-related incidents between 2009 and 2012 18, it became clear that despite being labelled unrest-related, most of the protests did not escalate beyond barricade-building and tyre-burning, and in fact were recorded as being fairly incident-free.19 The protests recorded in the municipal records constitute a humdrum of protests, taking place day in, day out throughout the country with little incident. Between the media and police hype about “violent service delivery protests’, it is this wider picture of peaceful protests that is so often missed, and unsurprisingly so. The security cluster can use images of marauding mobs, apparently predisposed to violence, to create moral panics in the public about protests, to turn the public against protestors (even those whose demands are legitimate), and to justify heightened security measures against them.

Yet in spite of protests remaining largely peaceful, all the municipalities surveyed instituted unreasonable restrictions on the right to protest, and these have curtailed this right to varying degrees. While the misapplication of the RGA has been a problem at least since the early 2000’s20, a particularly significant shift became apparent from 2012 onwards. In the wake of the local government elections, the Department of Co- operative Governance sent out a circular to local governments that outlined proactive measures that municipalities need to take to deal with protests. These measures included “… [working] with the office of the speaker [and] public participation units to ensure ongoing engagement between councillors and communities and residents’.21 Several municipalities used this memo as a pretext to change how they administered the RGA.
This shift increased the already-onerous bureaucratic obstacles municipalities put on protests, many of which already shared an assumption that the notification process in terms of the RGA was actually a permission-seeking exercise, and that they had the right to grant or deny “permission” to convenors to engage in a gathering or protest. This municipal misapprehension of the pro- cess set the tone for how notifications were dealt with, both by the municipalities and by the police. Practices that limited the right unduly included a requirement on the part of convenors to seek a letter from the institution or person they were marching against, guaranteeing that they would be willing to accept the memorandum. The rationale for seeking such an assurance appears to be to prevent frustration on the part of protestors, which could boil over into violence. How- ever, it has also become a censorship device, where those who are being marched against can squash the protest simply by refusing to accept the memorandum.

A student wears a T-Shirt with the defaced image of president Jacob Zuma over his head during a student protest over fees to parliament on the occasion of South African Finance Minister Pravin Gordhan presenting his Medium Term Budget Policy speech to Parliament in Cape Town, South Africa, 26 October 2016. Police used stun grenades and rubber bullets to disperse student protestors demonstrating at the gates of parliament as the Finance Minister delivered his medium term budget policy speech. Photo: ANP/ EPA/NIC BOTHMA
The City of Johannesburg requires protest convenors to seek permission from a ward councillor to protest, and after the 2012 Co-operative Governance memo, they and the Mbombela municipality, instituted a filtering system to reduce the number of service delivery protests, where convenors need to show that a meeting took place between the mayor’s office, the community and the ward councillor involved in that community, or at the very least that an attempt was made to bring all parties to the table to resolve the issues at hand.22 But this prescription is not lawful, as the RGA does not prescribe what process people should follow before they take to the streets.
While the municipalities studied have gradually closed spaces for the right to protest, this closure is highly uneven and subject to considerable contestation. Spaces were much more closed where the political and economic elite were united in their intentions to stifle protests.
The number of “approved” protests increased in Mbombela once the filtering process was introduced, suggesting that the potentially “troublesome” protests did not even enter into the system. But the municipality did admit that the condition had led to an increase in the number of “unrest-related” protests, taking place outside the framework of the RGA, and that the police were more likely to be heavy-handed against such a protest. These were led mainly by individuals or organisations that were in dispute with the structures they were meant to negotiate with, suggesting that an increasingly restrictive approach towards protests on the part of the municipality was changing the character of the protests, forcing them to become what the authorities would consider “unlawful” and driving up the potential for the protests to become disruptive.
While the municipalities studied have gradually closed spaces for the right to protest, this closure is highly uneven and subject to considerable contestation. Spaces were much more closed where the political and economic elite were united in their intentions to stifle protests and prevent criticism and alternative forms of mobilisation: but this unity was not found uniformly across the municipalities. As Oliver has argued, erratic government repression arises not because the government has chosen to be erratic, but because of inconsistencies among political actors.23 Furthermore, non-conventional actors are more likely to be repressed than conventional ones (such as unions or well-known political parties), as the security apparatus consider the former to be less predictable than the latter.24

University of Johannesburg students raise their hands while blocking a motorway during clashes with riot police on September 28, 2016 outside the University of Johannesburg Campus.
The issue of education fees ignited widespread frustration over a lack of opportunities for young South Africans, worsened by a weakening economy and high unemployment. Photo: ANP/AFP. Marco Longari
The evidence supports a view of the state put forward by Gramsci that it is not monolithic, but is rather a site where ruling class alliances take place or even shift.25 In times of significant political de-alignment, elements of the state can even work against one another. Erratic repression is likely to occur when divisions have opened up within the political elite, or between the political elite and the bureaucratic layer: in such circumstances, spaces for alternative voices remained open, albeit constrained and subject to reversal.
Internationally, the academic literature has recognised the fact that ruling elites
have expanded their repertories of social control beyond outright repression: as a result, the literature has shifted away from focussing on the concept of repression, to that of pacification. According to Kein- scherf, pacification includes measures that “…produce undisruptive and unthreatening forms of collective action”.26 However, this is not to say that repression as it is commonly understood, and pacification, are mutually exclusive: in fact, they can be complimentary strategies. For instance, the intelligence services can be used to separate out “good” protestors from “bad” protestors, and the resulting protest policing may be either facilitative or militarised depending on the type of risk management strategies that the police identify through the intelligence gleaned.27 But the fact that the elites have found it necessary to shift from more visible to less visible forms of social containment at all, is not a sign of their strength; rather it is a sign of their weakness as they recognise the fact that they lack the capacity to repress openly. Why is this so? The next section will attempt to answer this question.
Organic Crisis: Growing Popular Capacity for Independent Action
It seems fair to say that South Africa is manifesting more elements of a classic Gramscian organic crisis. For Gramsci, crises become organic when they are thrown up directly by contradictions in how the capitalist system functi
