The Nationalists called them ‘surplus people’, the government of national unity calls them ‘squatters’. Whatever term you use, they’re as ‘superfluous’ as they ever were, writes Cosmas Desmond
IT was just like old times: people — angry, frustrated, powerless and, of course, black people — squatting in the dust waiting for the powers that be to come and demolish their homes. Waiting and waiting, becoming angrier and angrier. They had their machetes and sticks and were ready to fight, or to commit hara-kiri; but they knew that in the end the superior fire power of the police would prevail.
This was Cato Manor, 1994 — not Limehill 1968 or Alcockspruit 1969, or any other of the numerous forced removals I have witnessed. The Nationalists tended to do their dirty deeds far from the public eye. But these people are just off a major highway, within an AK47 shot of Maritzburg’s Pavilion and with the University of Natal, symbol of privilege and affluence, brooding on the horizon.
Of course, the “authorities” did not come; not the first time, and they never have done. Keep the people guessing was, and is, the tactic: swoop when they are least expecting it and no outsiders or “agitators” (a favourite term of the Nationalists which has been taken over by Joe Slovo) are around.
Police vans and other official cars regularly drove into sight, but turned tail when they saw the media and other observers present. They had, nevertheless, made their presence felt; with a little more subtlety than they had done the previous day, when they set their dogs on the people.
The situation is undoubtedly very complex, but the whole atmosphere and the response of the authorities are the same as they were under Nationalist rule. The people recognise, and resent, this: “We voted for the government of national unity; but still a white man, a racist, comes and tells us that we must move.”
The Nationalists were able to be so brutal partly because they refused to acknowledge that they were dealing with real people: the people removed were “surplus appendages” or “superfluous Bantu”. Likewise, the ANC is now dealing with “squatters”, not with people, far less with voters. Being unemployed, they are not going to contribute to any export drive or attract foreign investment; so they are as dispensable and “superfluous” as they ever were.
It is still true, as it has been for the past four decades and more, that these people would not be treated in this manner if they were white — or even “coloured” or Indian. The apartheid hierarchy is still in place: the poor remain at the bottom.
President Nelson Mandela, a single man, has his various houses, mansions and palaces to choose between; yet, according to the press, he agreed with the local Nationalist minister that these people’s shacks, housing families of eight or more, should be demolished. Where are they supposed to go?
It is true that a few, possessed of the entrepreneurial spirit which the present government encourages, are making money out of other people’s misery. But most have settled on this exposed piece of scrubland out of desperation; some said it was the fourth place they had tried. Many have fled from areas of violence to which they cannot return. If they are evicted from their present pitiful shelters, they have nowhere to go.
For Slovo, this is regrettable, but “squatters” must be taught that they cannot jump the queue. What queue? There are no plans to help the most needy. Subsidies and access to bonds will not help them; they have nothing. The housing policy is once again a case of: to those who have, more will be given; to those who have not, what little they have will be taken away — even a bit of plastic sheeting.
The people in Cato Manor do not have “exaggerated expectations”; they should be demanding far more. They are now supposed to enjoy rights as people, not just as potential production units. They know that they will not be given houses and that, through no fault of their own, they do not have the money to buy them. Some said they would be satisfied if the government provided them with tents to live in while sites were developed.
They do, however, expect that their concerns should be taken seriously and that they should be listened to, particularly by those for whom they voted: “Mandela and Slovo do not know what it is like here. How can they decide we should be moved?” “We thought the new government would be different. But it is worse now because our own people are making us suffer.”
They are prepared to discuss the problems of homelessness and landlessness — they are not stupid, they know there is no immediate solution — but nobody has made any effort to talk to them. (They heard about their impending removal on the radio.)
They might be interested to know, for example, that there is such a thing as a queue for houses. The Natal Provinicial Administration, Mandela, Slovo have simply issued their edicts from on high, as their predecessors did. The “Bantu” have become “the people”; but they must still just do as they are told.
The ANC claims to be a people-orientated government; yet it shows no sign of being prepared actually to listen to people — unless they are rich, white and, preferably, foreign.
ANC leaders have managed to find time to consult with all sorts of rightwing groups, while beauty queens and boxers are readily granted audiences. Why cannot they do the same for their voters — or perhaps their ex-voters?
* Cosmas Desmond, a long time anti-apartheid campaigner, is author of The Dumping Ground