Angola - despite the U.N.-instituted arms embargo, UNITA has been able to acquire weapons, allowing the international arms dealers to cash in. Angolans themselves, who are poor and hungry because of decades of war, have been accused by Zambians of illegally crossing the border to Zambia and exchanging their weapons for food. An alliance has emerged between criminal organizations, insurgent groups and ex-soldiers who still retain their weapons of war and who are allegedly engaged in multi-million rand robberies in South Africa. These groups sell guns to each other and exchange other favours. In most Southern African countries wars have brought the economy to its knees. The demobilized soldiers lack job opportunities, so weapons have become their only means of survival. Non-state actors, including criminals, engaging in acts of violence without access to legal arms, create a big demand for light weapons.
Violence is so deeply entrenched that it is viewed as "part of life." The social acceptance of violence as part and parcel of human relations creates a "culture of violence." Michael Klare argues that global interdependence, mass media, and influence of international organizations are shifting power away from nation states toward powerful international forces, thereby creating anxiety and insecurity among ethnic groups. Modernization, the creation of a global village, was supposed to erode these identities, but instead has created anxiety among individuals, who turn to ethnic identities for support. Modernization has also created new ethnic elites who can provide leadership to their groups. Rootless individuals whose groups occupy unequal social classes are vulnerable to ascriptive mobilization and antagonisms that can burst into conflict.
South Africa; Identity, Violence And Small Arms -Together, small arms and identity played a big role in the violence of South Africa. One of the most important institutions in forming a link between identity and violence is the army -- in this case, both the SADF and the Mkhonto Wesizwe [M.K., the military wing of the ANC, based in Zambia until it was unbanned in South Africa] fostered insensitivity, aggressiveness and violence. Armed struggle by M.K. and the counter-insurgency measures by the SADF were identity-based violence. The ideologies that drove the different sides of soldier-identities in South Africa legitimized violence as means of obtaining and maintaining power. The slogan of the anti-apartheid movement, Pan Africanist Congress (PAC), "one settler, one bullet," is examples of violent indoctrination forming the soldier-identities of the resistance-apartheid era.
Like the rest of the region, Russia, China and Cuba backed the liberation movements with military equipment -- especially small arms, which were smuggled into South Africa by ANC operatives. Arms caches were created inside the country. General Bantu Holomisa opened up what was then a small bantustan, Transkei, to liberation movements as a base for launching operations. Large amounts of weaponry entered Transkei. To counter these developments and further the strategy of "divide and rule" the National Party trained and equipped the paramilitary force of the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP), a South African political organization headed by Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi, whose strength came from manipulating the anxieties of the Zulu ethnic group.
In 1983 the United Democratic Front (UDF) was formed as a mouthpiece of the ANC while it was still banned. The relationship between the UDF and IFP immediately soured, mainly because the UDF challenged the IFP over the monopoly of African politics, especially in KwaZulu-Natal province, and because of the close relationship between the IFP and the ruling National Party, which had created apartheid. The National Party relied on the IFP to oppose UDF because there was no significant Afrikaner population in KwaZulu Natal. (The Afrikaners, or Boers, generally were the strongest supporters of apartheid.) For their part, the IFP saw the alliance as a way of gaining political control of KwaZulu Natal.
The conflict escalated into violent outbursts, ambushes, and attacks between the IFP and UDF, culminating in the formation of IFP-aligned Self Protection Units and ANC-aligned Self Defence Units. From 1987 to 1990, an estimated 4 000 people died in KwaZulu Natal. Political identity became the dividing line in the conflict.
In the 1990s violence took another turn. The ban was lifted on the ANC in 1990 and immediately it won the support of the majority of blacks. Facing such strong opposition, Buthelezi introduced a new strategy, mobilizing the Zulu nation around ethnic consciousness. His IFP boycotted the elections, demanding clarity on the status of the Kingdom of KwaZulu in the new dispensation. Buthelezi even went so far as to draw on the support of King Goodwill Zwelithini of the Zulu Kingdom to win the support of the Zulus. This meant elections were preceded by deadly violence. Violence claimed 3000 lives in East Rand alone between 1990 and 1994. A different form of identity was taking a center stage in the conflict. Manipulation of ethnic identities became the electioneering strategy for the IFP. Finally, the IFP was taken aboard the election process through a last minute promise to consider their worry about the Zulu Kingdom after the election. The success of the 1994 election has dramatically reduced violence.
However, after the election, disarmament strategies were not successful at all. In October 1994 a disarmament operation called "Rollerball" was started. It was a disaster. Four months later, the weapons seized by this operation consisted of only 70 AK47s, 93 hand grenades, 53 pistols, 316 limpet mines. This figure is nothing compared with quantities that had been supplied to the IFP by the National Party and by the superpowers to the ANC.
The second major source is the internal armament industry. During the violent '80s and sensitive transitional stage the white population has armed themselves alarmingly with legal firearms. By the early 1990s they were well armed but this acquisition of legal firearms continues and theft is still a major problem; there are still 2700 reports of stolen firearms every month.
With this background in mind, the Institute for Security Studies in South Africa has developed its Small Arms Program to study the illegal trade in small arms in Southern Africa. It will demonstrate the linkages between an increased availability of small arms and the emergence of a culture of violence in transit and end-user countries. The program's field research will include mapping of supply, transit, and end user points, research and writing, dissemination and recommendations on the licensing, and destruction of surplus weapons.
Conclusion - The proliferation of small arms throughout Southern Africa started as an aspect of the Cold War long before the political violence of the '90s. The major source of weapons in South Africa itself was through smuggling by liberation movements. During the apartheid era, the liberation movements (especially ANC) were engaged in the deadly armed struggle with the National Party government. Violence based on identity continued in the beginning of the '90s, when another factor was included to the conflict: the ethnic dimension introduced by Buthelezi when he mobilized the Zulu nation.
The socio-political dynamics of South Africa created identities that legitimized violence as the only means of achieving or keeping power. Assassinations, ambushes, and attacks by "faceless" killers were carried out by light weapons. The flow of small arms grew with the violence. Without the huge amount of light weapons and the legal militarization of the white community, South Africa would not have experienced so much violence.
For obvious reasons the then National Intelligence isn't mentioned here. Most were too busy to assist in flying out cash for the politicians at the time when the sticky brown stuff hit the fan.
The fact that someone made off with R50m in forex for example. The State Security Agency which is made up of members of the now defunct National Intelligence Agency and South African Secret Service is South Africa’s foremost and most important domestic and foreign intelligence gathering agency. The headquarters house all of our national secrets and is obviously extremely secure. The fact that someone made off with R50m in forex smacks of an inside job and arrogance on the part of the perpetrators. It is a sad indictment of security in South Africa that the SSA can be robbed..."
A week earlier.
"You're going to fire Anne, to save money!?" Irate Angus stood, wi
th his clenched fists pushing down hard on the bottom-end of a large rectangular concrete slab balancing on dusty building bricks, that had served as a make-shift boardroom table. A chilled breeze pushed through the concrete-pillared windowless eighth floor of an unfinished high rise office building in Sandton. Trust issues especially amongst the world's captains of industry demanded obscure venues, away from prying eyes.
"The one person whom you trust with the timing of your future wealth, not to mention your every political and business secret, and need I mention the outranking of all of that... your lives, that she protected up to now? That's your idea of saving money? Your idiotic inclusion of her aptness... of this 'asset' as a mere figure on this group's balance sheet? Have you lost it? All of you?"
Angus put both hands deep in his coat pockets and stared down at his highly polished shoes. Having looked up again at the twelve arrogant members who demanded a greater share, he opened his black leather briefcase; that he had placed neatly on his' side of the concrete slab, and produced a thick roll of transparent plastic.
"What... What's that for?" The inquisitiveness of the Texan oil man got the better of him and stood up for a better look.
"We're not scared you skinny Englishman, we know what she does on the island, the babies, the adults... we know where it is. We've been working ourselves stupid for a month there. We know exactly how to get there if we wanted to. Either we share her research and the profits or you both get exposed before that rising sun sets today. By the way we were supposed to meet this SPES-Corp board, they're late, where are they? The man that had threatened Angus was still pointing in the direction of the rising sun.
"Renovations... it is a building site..." Angus nonchalantly replied to the Texan while purposely ignoring the rough looking almost seven foot ex-Speznatz soldier. The vein on the man's neck was starting to show, and the last thing Angus wanted was going toe to toe with this Russian scar-faced giant. A brief glance as Angus inspected the man's bear sized hands, made him realize that time was of the essence, he continued unrolling the double folded sheet of thick plastic effortlessly and walked over to the chair that the Texan had sat on, then looking at it, returned, and he pulled the sheet straight on the dusty floor behind him.
"Look over there, East." Angus had the entire curious group face east while the larger than life Texan exchanged a nervous look with the Russian. Angus had pointed; into the blinding South African morning the sun that had just peered over the top of a high rise more than a kilometre up the road, with his mobile phone.
"I'm mere inches away from you. This, in Anne's world, is what she'd call trust..."
"The members of SPES-Corp's board had swapped with you. They insisted on a visit to the island, to satisfy themselves that the results of the research had been true. After a stand-off with Anne, there was an altercation. We all went for a ride on the waves... But in the interest of time let me download you the express version..." Angus looked at the men who were already uneasily moving around on their chairs.
"The board members never... returned..." As Angus paused, he briefly eyed his wristwatch, then in a faster tempo continued his addressing them.
"I realise that this is not what you want to hear, but there is a reason why you entered South Africa with those passports". He pointed to the heap of official documents from all over the world, that he asked be collected at the outset of the meeting.
"Those are the passports of the men who couldn't make it today as the Pacific ocean had an apparent greater appeal. No doubt a great many institutions are still searching for them, and would employ vast resources to continue doing so. People don't just vanish... Or so I'm told.
Had you all been a little less greedy, you all would have been in the Pacific on a yacht today, having been paid even more than what you set out to earn.
And ironically, the members of SPES-Corp would have been here today. You know it took Anne a while to have this place bought, demolished, re-designed, and now more than half-way built. It's probably irrelevant, but for one or some of you... It's really not up to me... may have a clearer understanding of the need for privacy and security in matters such as our research... after today I mean.
The mutations of the various plant and animal species that you had witnessed on the island is incomparable to the babies on the other island. It's a 'fast-forward' version of your grand children, in less than a hundred years from now, should the genetically modified food or rather seed-process continue. We hold our privacy in high regard, and obviously take a threat to expose us, in a very serious light.
Yes, we are a well funded vigilante group, but we can't afford to continue recklessly over the horizon on an unchartered route where the public is exposed in their billions, suffering all sorts of unexplained cancers. It's up to us to let it out, but we needed proof first." Angus again adjusted his tie.
"Better get on with it then..." As if the perplexed special forces members had a dark suspicion of the cold-hearted fate that awaited one or more, they all had secretly hoped it would be the Texan. Not knowing which direction the imminent sentence would be delivered from, all remained motionlessly glued to their seats, exchanging petrified stares. Angus walked back to his suitcase, lifted his mobile phone and dialled on speaker.
"Yes?" It was the unmistakable frail sounding voice of Anne Fouche', and every member recognised her. Somewhere downstairs a diesel engine had switched on, and in a few seconds it had churned a series of terrible mechanical coughs, before it was heard spitting out an out-of-timing repetitive idle. Around the table the arrogant men of a few minutes before were looking at Angus and around the vast empty pillared and incomplete floor for a clue as to what would follow.
"I can tell you that it's breezy up here on the eight floor, but I really can't imagine..." Those were the last earthly sounds that the uneasy men around the concrete slab heard before one after the other fell either forward or back in their chairs. Some stared emotionless and still at the loosely hanging overhead electrical wires and three of them had fallen face down, connecting their faces with the slab in front of them, resulting in bone-crushing echoes.
"Pardon the theatrics Hough, but we didn't want you around that slab." It was Anne's voice.
"Mind if you help Angus clean up Hugh? I'm sure it's quite a mess over there." Anne continued.
"Don't you think by finishing the hardest work early, it frees up the day, and we end up being more productive Angus. Or is it just me?" Anne asked. Hugh hated those words as much as he had when they disposed of the CEO's two coral reefs west of the horrid island.
"Can't disagree Anne... See you soon. Take care." Angus answered as he walked over to the wide meter square gap leading all the way down past the ground floor and into the multi-level basement parking area. He pointed from the edge at the centre of the eighth floor next to where the winding stairs and the two elevator shafts would later be completed.
"That will be the atrium, decorated with a great variety of plants, undergrowth, and a palm tree all the way down there. It will be sealed off with blueish-green tinted glass from there, all the way past us and up to the eighty-eight floor up there. Almost giving the impression that it's a tall vertical crystal protected by the enveloping building. Only from the very top however, will the full picture be clear, ironically. It's going to be an architectural masterpiece. Come see..." The calm demeanour that Angus had displayed earlier during the distant sniping, just as he had been pointing to the deep hole many stories below while balancing precariously at the very edge, horrified the Texan who took small carefully measured steps in his direction towards the edge.
"That hole down there next to that ugly yellow concrete mixer is twelve meters deep." Pointing far below, Angus followed the street to the entrance of the expansive basement parking area leading to the many subterranean levels.
"Almost four storeys. It's not on the plans, the genius architect is one of ours. Shall we...?" Angus motioned with his hand back to the lifeless men on their chairs, all with horrific
gaping wounds to their heads.
"You are suggesting that we push them over the edge, let them drop into that hole and cover them up with concrete?" The Texan acted as if he wasn't sure but knew there was no other logical way for the day to progress from there.
"Well yes, we can't exactly put them on the first place out of Johannesburg, can we now?" Angus frowned.
"Do I have a choice?" The Texan dared.
"But of course Hough, like I said that hole is very, very deep, and the concrete is almost ready. In life, we always have choices." The Texan looked frowning at Angus, unsure whether it was underlying sarcasm during the most inopportune time.
A Motley Crew Page 11