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Terror and the search for justice in South Africa: an interview with Shirley Gunn

2013; Taylor & Francis; Volume: 6; Issue: 3 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1080/17539153.2013.835204

1753-9153

Ciaran Gillespie,

South African History and Culture

Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Ciaran Gillespie:=Could you say a little about the project you are promoting while visiting the UK?Shirley Gunn:=I'm here in the capacity as the Director of the Human Rights Media Centre, promoting our struggle for reparations in South Africa, post- the TRC and this is a film called "We Never Give Up II". The first film was made 10 years ago, 2003, and this film was released last December, so it was a nine-year follow up. We worked with a director and film-maker from Northern Ireland, Cahal McLaughlin, who has a lot of experience with narrative documentary film-making and a deep respect for people who have experienced torture and violence through the struggle, because he has done a lot of work with survivors of the conflict in Ireland and did a project with ex-political prisoners from the Maze and other prisons. And so, when the film was accepted by the Belfast International Film Festival, I thought "well cool, now's the time to take it to some of our associates in the UK!" We, the Human Rights Media Centre, are the producer of this film. We have worked in partnership with the Western Cape branch of Khulumani Support Group (the name Khulumani by the way, draws from a Zulu name meaning "speak out"), and we have been working with the membership in Western Cape, specifically. This way, it's feasible to work in a democratic, participatory way, rather than if we are working nationally which would have been very much more complicated as the process of making the film is fundamentally participatory. Our process involves constantly sending versions of the film back and getting people's feedback, so at the end of the day subjects are authoring their own stories. So, I work for the Human Rights Media Centre, but I also happen to be a member of the Khulumani Support Group. I'm a national board member so I serve on the overall organisations board and I'm also what is called in South Africa, "a survivor". I testified to the Truth Commission and was found to be a survivor of gross human rights violations, so the subject matter is very, very close to me and that is also why it was necessary to work with somebody – Cahal – completely independent and offshore too, without any political agenda, just to capture these narratives the way we have; very authentically, very respectfully, for the world to know what we are still struggling with so long after the TRC – so long after our first democratic elections.CG:=The Truth and Reconciliation Commission described you as a survivor?SG:=They found me to be a victim in their language, but we call ourselves survivors. You make a statement and it's supposedly investigated and you are then found to be a victim. So it's not automatic that you present your story to the TRC and you are found to be a victim. It can be denied. Then you have to go to appeal and say "actually you are wrong, I am a survivor". Then they have to scurry around and find additional documentation, and hospital records and death certificates and such, if you want to prove that you are survivors, and so it's not an easy process. But mine was much more high profile. Not of my own making, it had been in the media's eye and so I didn't think there was too much question around my status.CG:=Is the work that you would do at the Human Rights Media Centre – the logical progression from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission – addressing what the TRC has failed to establish in terms of people publicising their own experiences, telling their personal stories?SG:=(Agrees.) You see, I don't think that the Truth and Reconciliation Committee was all that therapeutic for people. And having testified at a public hearing, certainly, all those sectors that would be naturally interested in our stories approached us for their own pieces. And it was very grueling, and we were very generous and we gave and gave and gave and gave. Then we stopped to reflect and we sort of said, "hey, this is not altogether ethical, the way this is happening and being done", and so we started to talk about the agency of our stories. It was a process of experiencing the TRC and then kind of taking stock and saying, "no, actually this is not that helpful for us, what is more helpful? Let's do it differently". So, a lot of our work is with survivors of gross human rights violations during apartheid, but that's not the beginning and the end of what we do. We work with a lot of different kinds of human rights issues. For example, migrants and asylum seekers is a big area, disability, particularly blindness. We try to deal with the terrible, terrible prejudice and stigma associated with the condition Albinism. It's not just to hone in on one, but it is part of our collective story. Our methodology is a collective, collaborative process, which takes way more time.CG:=It seems like what you're saying is that there's no be-all-and-end-all enterprise that can provide closure to people who suffered gross human rights violations? It's a continuing process which will carry on?SG:=Unfortunately, it's continuing because our cries have fallen on deaf ears. The government hasn't listened, hasn't consulted, hasn't adopted progressive strategies to deal with the harm that apartheid caused. In fact, sometimes they've even been ridiculing survivors, saying things like, victims "should get Oscars for their acting". We heard statements like this from two senior Cabinet Ministers at different moments in our history, close on the heels of the TRC, and all incredibly insulting. We were irate that was their attitude – they would like to wish us away. But unfortunately for them, they can't, because we are not going to be wished away.CG:=Do you feel survivors got enough sense of justice to make the TRC a worthwhile endeavour? Or would your experience discourage you from recommending it in post-conflict situations more generally?SG:=I don't think there was enough complexity or nuance in the TRC to deal for what was needed. It was all envisaged to happen very quickly, to be over with [in] a year and a half, which is an unrealistic pipedream really. In fact, the human rights hearings were only given one year and it was then extended to one and a half. Yet, the Amnesty Committee had way longer because the perpetrators were so slow in coming forward. It's really a book to explain the limitations of our Truth and Reconciliation Commission. I think there are some very good elements, but it needed to be different. The whole historical time frame where it started and where it ended had to be different. The time frame was from 1948 to 1990, whereas lots of violence in the country actually happened between 1990 and 1994 – so many people were killed by the right-wing elements in that period. There was a real attempt to push back the gains that we'd made.CG:=And those victims of post-1990 violence were blocked on definitional grounds?SG:=They're not covered, and neither were our colonial days where prior to 1948–49 when the nationalist came into power and when the land was so unequally distributed and all of those things, so it doesn't deal with the economy. Also, the TRC didn't have much clout, it could only make recommendations. It didn't have powers to implement, so it could recommend until it's blue in the face, but the government at the time, if they didn't agree with the recommendations, it could throw them out. And, they have. They have done exactly that in regards [to] reparations. These are the recommendations of the TRC and if you consult the survivors, who were very critical of the shortcomings, they now just talk about those recommendations as the benchmark. We are missing our own benchmarks here. At the very least, we should have community reparations implemented now. There are definitely people who are injured on both sides that need support, medical and psychological and otherwise, that is accessible to people on the ground in the form of support services. But they are forestalling on this. Crazy. We can talk limitations. I won't chuck the baby out with the bath water, but it's something that really wasn't thought through. And you know, if you are part of the staffing of the commission and you know you've jumped on a bus that's got flat wheels. Then you get out and you insist they fix them before you proceed. And they all just sat on that bus, and they all knew it was only going to go down the road and it wasn't going to go as far as it had to go and they all got very good pay and shame that they had to listen to all of these shameful people. What a terrible job!CG:=I wanted to ask you about the extent to which the economy has taken a central role in the reconciliation process. In cases like Northern Ireland, an implicit factor in negotiations for the 1998 Good Friday Agreement was the idea that a "peace dividend" would substantially benefit both communities economically, and that was the only real way the population could put the past behind them. Is that something that is reflected in the ANC's approach?SG:=Yes it is.CG:=Do you see it as successful? Is it better to focus on raising everyone's living standards than fixating on reparations addressing the grievances of particular groups?SG:=No, absolutely not. We do hear that kind of stuff, that's the rhetoric that the state uses. It's a status quo position and one that we reject outright. In our case, you're talking about a special class of people who have special needs and their needs need to be addressed, above what we voted the government in to do. We have people who are disabled, and we don't have special housing for them. It doesn't exist. There's talk about policy for introducing specialist homes but it's behind a backlog of other crises in the housing system. We have a huge migrant population in South Africa, due to other problems on the continent. We've got the largest asylum seeker population in the world. So, housing is in crisis; it's badly managed by the government and the Department of Home Affairs, which is the most corrupt department. People's status are bought and sold on a daily basis. So, our position on this is absolutely clear. Yes, the government must get on with delivery of houses, electrification, increasing living standards and all these things – but that is not what the President's Fund is earmarked for. It's very specific. Individuals have made donations to that Fund for it to be spent on survivors. That money has come from many sources all over the world and it's accumulated to one billion rand. We are focused on the spending of that money appropriately. They've tried to test the waters before about whether they could put this money into a range of welfare programmes. We were up in arms. It's the state taking our money to use in other departments which are ailing. All we are asking is that the Fund is used for the purpose it was always intended. Khulumani is one united group. It's not fractious, it's not divided, there are not a whole lot of survivor groups competing with one another. It shouldn't be difficult for the government to negotiate, to talk, to consult with the wishes of those survivors who are Khulumani members.CG:=You might be described as someone who chose to take up arms in the fight against the Apartheid state of South Africa. I'm curious to what extent you saw it as a choice?SG:=I did have a choice. I was 100% prepared and committed to give my life. I didn't have any expectations of seeing freedom in my lifetime. But at the same time, when you come to think about it, if you understood the reasons for inequality, if you abhorred racial capitalist ideology, did you have a choice? So, I kind of think I had a choice, but I didn't have a choice. It was the only choice I had, to promote the dismantling of apartheid. It was crimes against humanity; you can either live with it and live with yourself, or you can't. And I couldn't.CG:=So it was a choice, but it wasn't a choice?SG:=Yes!CG:=A lot of the academic discussion of terrorism in recent years has fixated on econometric analysis of how a person can rationalise participating in acts of violence. It seems that people can struggle to understand voluntary participation in a conflict when the risk of losing one's life is very high. How do you react to that? Why you would participate in struggle that might end up costing you more than you could possibly stand to gain from it?SG:=It's about sacrifice, it's about … our struggle. It was not an individual one; it was a huge national struggle, of the oppressed against the oppressor – of the majority against the minority. We had our numbers to our favour, but we didn't have resources. I had done political work for quite a number of years before I went into the underground, and even then I was working in the political underground of the ANC before I went into the military underground. But I mean on a mass democratic struggle, we just had cardboard or paper against heavily armed men. And every time there was brutality, every time there was death and injury. We didn't see it as offensive but defensive. I completely understood and saw our role as MK operatives as defensive. We didn't set the agenda; those of us in the military underground structures were subordinate to the political agenda. We're not all the same; we're not all driven by the same things, so this is where the simplistic kinds of level of discussion [of terrorism] isn't appropriate. But in general speak, we were fighting an illegitimate regime that retained its power in the most savage and brutal way. And it had the support of the most reactionary forces in the world, and it was a mighty, mighty giant that we had to bring down. That's why today something in me rejects the simplistic kind of terminology and analysis of war and conflict. I know not everyone had the dedicated, committed approach to the cause and the discipline to make sacrifices. But we were careful and restrained; we weren't running around setting off bombs over a period of time in a place and a moment in history where it was appropriate. And it was very directed; our attacks were targeted and there was careful, careful reconnaissance.CG:=Do you think that care and restraint makes what MK did different in character to what we broadly understand as "terrorism"? That it had the capacity for vigorous internal ethical debate?SG:=We unpacked things so rigorously because we had the time and politics to do that. We analysed things from so many different angles and … you know it is what you bring to a process, it is who you are and what you bring. We can't all be cast in the same mould. We're not all the same, we're not all driven by the same things so this is where I find the simplistic levels of discussion of terrorism inappropriate. But in general speak, we were fighting an illegitimate regime who retained its power in the most savage and brutal way. And it had the support of the most reactionary forces in the world, and it was a mighty, mighty giant that we had to bring down. And there were examples we could draw from, we weren't in isolation; other movements in other parts of the world faced the same thing. But they aren't all the same and that's why something in me today rejects that simplistic kind of terminology and analysis of war and conflict.CG:=What was your experience of being a woman in a paramilitary organisation? Do you think the political ideology of MK made for a more progressive environment?SG:=If we're looking at issues of gender equality in the military, it's male territory, but you know I think working in the non-statutory forces is very different to statutory forces. It's difficult to say whether it was progressive or not. I remember speaking with the chief of staff and head of the communist party, Chris Hani, and he said to me, "don't have children". So cheeky me said, "Oh, you're a fine one to speak, you've got daughters, how come you can be a parent and I can't?" He was quite taken aback. He didn't say anything in rebuttal. It's good that he said it though; it made me think about my role as a woman in the military.CG:=So having a child had a big impact on people's perception of you as a fighter?SG:=Perhaps not so much in MK, but soon after my release from my detention with Haroon [Shirley's son], I was asked to go and speak to Child Welfare in Cape Town. There was a whole bunch of social workers in this room and these women looked at me as if I had done something really wrong. I had been in the underground, and I'd had a baby. It was the first time I was really confronted with this question when I was in the presence of these social workers, and they wouldn't say I'd done something wrong, but they would ask, "was this responsible of you?" I was quite taken aback. So, I remember at the time I answered, "life goes on in the trenches". We were not in uniform, we were not in camps; we were not in that type of environment. We were in communities, embedded deeply, and it was life. So then they shut up. They didn't ask any more questions. It wasn't all bad. I did get a note from the clinical psychologist who wrote me a very lovely card afterwards where he said, you know, "I hope you didn't find that too difficult to handle, but I wanted to tell you that you are a wonderful mother". Because I'd been through a lot; I mean, I'd gone through the police telling me I was a terrible mother. Then I'm going through sitting with the social workers who abused me while I was in detention by coming with a warrant for the baby's arrest and putting him in a special place of safety …CG:=The baby's arrest?SG:=Yes, that's how I was tortured. Well, one of the methods that I was tortured. This was the social workers that were doing this. I was once told by the security forces that the baby had saved me, and I thought, "Oh my God". That's interesting that they would have been way more ruthless if I hadn't had that baby with me when I was arrested. So there were risks. There's no doubt about it, there were risks …CG:=It sounds like they thought you should consider yourself lucky for not being treated worse …SG:=Yeah, that's how the social workers perceived me, you know; that's not what I should have been doing as a woman with a new-born baby. I shouldn't have been in the underground. I shouldn't have been going on missions when I was pregnant and when I had a baby in my arms. But I knew what I was doing, and I wasn't about to blow myself up; I didn't have any explosives attached to my body so that I would then say, "right, my time's up, I'm going to be captured". I knew how to handle myself in captivity. I'd had a long stint in solitary confinement in 1985 – 113 days. So I knew how to keep sane, and knew how to withhold information and knew how to find out what they were thinking – rather than give them any information. Rather, it was my quest to find out what they knew. We had learned how to observe in captivity. I had been taught by the Cubans.CG:=The fact that you received training from the Cuban government is a fascinating part of your story. Under several US administrations, chiefly Reagan's if I recall, Cuba was loudly denounced for being a sponsor for international terrorism due to the support it gave to groups such as MK. What is your perspective on that label?SG:=They were internationalists of such a high calibre. We had such deep respect for the Cubans. As far as the label is concerned, I don't like to use the terminology [terrorism], because it is misunderstood and has such a bad connotation. But if we are using that paradigm, yes, it was terrorism and counter-terrorism. And we were the counter-terrorists; they [the apartheid state] were the terrorists, although it seems to be taught in a different way over here in universities.CG:=What actions would you characterise as being akin to terrorism?SG:=The entire political apparatus of the apartheid state was terrorist in nature. But, just in terms of how they behaved to protestors, there was the chemical warfare that they used – the toxicity of the tear gas; the fact that they would shoot to kill; the whole detention without trial system. They were armed to the tooth with hand guns and semi-automatic rifles; they would use bullets that had a dreadful impact. They would use buckshot, so when it leaves a barrel it spews out in all directions. It's completely indiscriminate. You can't aim; it just goes everywhere. They also used dumdums, and other kinds of bullets that just explode on impact so it causes the most horrific injuries. Now, that's terrorism. They were militarily, incredibly strong and this is how they approached the barricades – young people who didn't have arms; maybe had petrol bombs like molotovs and things like that. And zip guns which were homemade [firearms]. Look, we may have had some units in operation, but for the most part, to most of the people, when the security forces actually approached the mass struggle, what they called "riots", with deadly weaponry, it's terrorism. They [the security forces] were completely indoctrinated. But you know, in my work I've come across the human beings behind the mask or under the uniform, behind that line, and they're very diminished individuals. They've such severe social problems. Divorce, high alcoholism rates, unemployment, post-traumatic stress – if you want to use that term – but damaged individuals. In terms of community reparations, psychological services should extend beyond our side. I've been talking about the mentality of the security forces and the police. I think there is really deep debriefing that is necessary, and because it's male-dominated these things have not happened. They haven't been acknowledged and that's why we live with a legacy of brutality to this day across the board within the security forces and the police. I think there are lots of things that should be falling under the broad framework of community reparations that is for all people in society – that every South African should be considered, regardless of where, of who, or on what side they fought.CG:=Isn't that the essence of reconciliation?SG:=I think it's acknowledging that you know people have been affected across the board, the whole country are recovering racists, as I see it. Everyone is affected by racial discrimination and the policies that were in place for so long. That whole notion of how whites still think they are superior in some ways, the way they treat people and the way blacks feel inferior; the way they do not sometimes see they are spoken down to. It's so deep, it's a national project and it should be on the national agenda every single minute of the day. But it's not.CG:=Does that legacy of violence still haunt South Africa? I was thinking about the Markiana miner's strike last year where 44 people were shot dead. Many critical voices have described the incident in terms of terrorism.SG:=Look, I think that the business community in South Africa has rode roughshod over those very people that are making them rich; and the miners in South Africa have always had a raw deal. They go down very deep into the ground. Conditions are appalling. There are lots of associated health risks, which are always a battle to get addressed. So, who are the terrorists here? It's the big mining magnates really, because they have been disrespectful and inattentive to the human needs of their work force. I was actually in Belfast when it happened and was watching it on a small screen and realised, this is a turning point, this is really major; and an inquest is going on and I can see the commissioner of police is lying through her teeth. She's making a very, very poor case on the side of the police. I think her head should roll. It's of the magnitude of the events that have turned the course of our history, like in the 1960s when we decided armed struggle is the way to go. It was these incidents like Sharpeville, where 68 people were shot dead, in their backs, as they're fleeing. It's synonymous with Marikana, and it was a major turning point.CG:=Is it possible to politically address grievances given how the state is using its capacity for violence?SG:=It's the way in which the police and the security forces are trained, their whole mentality. I know I've been talking about mentality, what's in their heads. They are, in a way, the legacy of our struggle, of our war. But there are much wider problems with violence. Houses get broken into all the time. There are armed robbers and, therefore, our police force are armed, and petrified, and underpaid and overworked. Most of them are wearing bulletproof vests because, they're having to face armed robbers and criminals. They become brutalised through their work, but, you can stand on the sideline and say, "why haven't you got humane methods of making arrests? Why are you shooting people?" It's mostly in self-defence and it's obviously a reality in our country. We've got to go back a couple of steps. We handed in our arms. Every single one, every single cartridge, every single bullet, everything we had was handed over. Now, if there was something that would address the arms trade in this country, which is running amok, we might make some kind of progress. It might be safer for the police to run normally. But the situation now is not normal; it's completely abnormal. So you have to see it also in a sympathetic light. But, what happened in Marikana, that was absolutely unforgivable. Miners were shot at who were defenceless; that is completely inappropriate response to mass action. Yes, it was militant mass action, but that is absolutely no excuse.CG:=Thank you.