Massacre Provides a Window to South Africa

On September 7, soldiers in the South African homeland of Ciskei rained machine-gun fire into a fleeing throng of unarmed African National Congress supporters who were in Bisho, the capital of Ciskei, for a protest march - leaving 28 dead and more than 200 injured. Rob Jenkins, an American volunteer with the Anglican diocese of Cape Town, wrote the following in the days after the massacre.

­- The Editors

The dust has cleared, the blood has dried, and the names of 28 more black South Africans are added to the roster of apartheid's victims. In June there was the massacre at Boipatong. Now there is Bisho. Black South Africans are asking, "How much more must we be asked to endure?"

Many observers both inside and outside of South Africa, including the government of President F.W. de Klerk, are using the massacre at Bisho to emphasize why the African National Congress (ANC) and its alliance must return to the negotiating table. The savagery that took place at Bisho, however, is a chilling example of exactly why the ANC pulled out of constitutional negotiations.

How does one conduct negotiations that are supposed to lead to democracy with a government that fails to recognize one of the most fundamental democratic rights - the right to peaceful protest? The attitude of many of South Africa's blacks is captured in the placards held high at the demonstrations that are taking place across the country condemning the violence: "No talks while our people are dying."

Almost unbelievably, the South African government and many whites blame Nelson Mandela and other ANC leaders for the massacre. They say that the ANC knew violence was a possibility and the march should never have taken place, peaceful or not. Few people in the world would think of blaming the victims of Tiananmen Square for the atrocities committed there, yet some give weight to de Klerk's skewed logic - despite the pictures of Ciskein troops continuing to fire their machine guns at marchers as they ran away or hugged the ground for safety.

Over the last two years, de Klerk has been pursuing a strategy of careful hypocrisy. While engaging the country's various political groups in negotiations and pursuing a process of gradual reform, de Klerk has continued to intentionally destabilize the political position of the ANC and its allies through the instigation and continuation of so-called "black on black" violence. His intention is to weaken the hands of his opponents at the negotiating table, thereby allowing him to dictate the composition of any new constitution.

THE BISHO massacre allows the world an opportunity to see the underside of de Klerk's strategy. The government itself needn't pull any triggers, but merely ensure that other structures capable of committing violence are in place. In Bisho it was the homeland government of Brig. Oupa Gqozo. In the case of the Boipatong massacre, it was armed Inkatha-supporting hostel dwellers.

Once violence is a possibility, the government need only allow tension to build and then step aside when the shooting starts. Violence occurs, black people are killed, the ANC is hurt, and de Klerk can make claims to the international press that his hands are clean.

De Klerk insists that the killings at Bisho were the act of a "sovereign, foreign country," but South Africa is the only country in the world that recognizes the sovereignty of the Ciskei. The bullets used were South African. The soldiers who fired them were all trained by the South African Defense Force. The officers who gave the orders to kill are former members of the South African army. Brig. Gqozo himself admits that he is entirely dependent upon the South African government.

Immediately after the massacre, de Klerk argued that he was powerless to stop the carnage. Then, almost in the same breath, he announced that a company of South African troops was being deployed into the Ciskei to "protect industrial property and looting." Why couldn't he have done the same to prevent the loss of life? As Allan Boesak, ANC national executive member, said after the massacre, "If the South African government decided they were serious about allowing peaceful protest, about allowing free political expression, this would not have taken place."

The ANC would like nothing more than to negotiate a peaceful, democratic future for South Africa, but at the same time, the ANC knows who it is dealing with. Negotiations are meaningless if one party cannot trust in the bona fides of the other.

The situation is indeed grave. Talks or no talks, South Africa will have no peace until de Klerk and his government decide to get serious about moving toward democracy and end their covert war.

Rob Jenkins was an American volunteer with the Anglican diocese of Cape Town when this article appeared.