Pro-democracy strikes brought Swaziland to a standstill. But the grip of the monarchy is a strong one to break, reports Stefaans Brmmer
`PATIENCE pays’, the inscription on the back of the bus admonished would-be overtakers as it rambled over Swaziland’s hills. The legend might as well be a national motto: it would explain why Swaziland is the last Southern African country not to have democratised, the only surviving absolute monarchy in Africa. Swazi society is deeply traditional, stratified into clans of royals, quasi-nobles and commoners. Chiefs and princes rule the countryside in feudal fashion, while 27-year-old King Mswati III and Queen Mother Nthombi Twala have the final say in the `non-party’ system of central government. Last week, that traditional hierarchy was shaken when virtually the entire workforce, led by the Swaziland Federation of Trade Unions (SFTU), stayed away from work. The economy came to a standstill which the private sector said cost it R10-million a day. Shops were looted and power lines, water supplies and communications were sabotaged. At least one protester, a 16-year-old girl, died in security force action. The strike was the longest in Swazi history. The SFTU, backed by human rights and opposition forces, put forward 27 economic, social and political demands, which were later scaled down to seven. Last Saturday, Mswati ordered his subjects back to work in a hardline speech that threatened `war’ and accused the strike organisers of planning to overthrow him. The SFTU, which claims to represent 83 000 workers out of a total about 100 000 in the formal economy, responded by dropping another six demands. It said it would urge its followers back to work if Mswati agreed only to revoke a 1973 decree which suspended the former British protectorate’s Westminster-style constitution.The decree, issued by Mswati’s father, the late King Sobhuza II, rang in a State of Emergency, still in force, banning political parties and free political
Answering criticism that the strike had become overtly political, SFTU secretary general Jan Sithole acknowledged organised labour had become an `omnibus’ movement where political activity was generally banned. `We haven’t, as a labour movement, shifted from our main agenda … But our problems can only be addressed where there is democracy and accountability.’ Sithole need not have bothered. On Monday, as ordered by the king, a large part of Swaziland’s workforce went back to work, watched over by a heavy deployment of police and soldiers. While many workers in the key forestry and sugar cane industries, as well as the government electricity and post and telecommunications utilities — all SFTU strongholds — continued their stay-away, the capital, Mbabane, and the main industrial town, Manzini, were back to normal after a week of near-desertion. For the SFTU the writing was on the wall; it had lost the initiative. The strike was suspended pending ratification from a mass rally, to be held this Sunday. Sithole’s assistant, Jabulani Nxumalo, explained that the decision had been taken `for fear of losing life’ and to allow `effective and meaningful’ dialogue with the government. The SFTU emerged tarnished. It had earlier argued that negotiations would be worthless until the repeal of the 1973 decree, as the government had time and again disregarded agreements and used its powers to prevent labour or the political opposition from participating on an equal footing. Now the SFTU was again reverting to dialogue, with no guarantee the government would abide by the outcome. Several factors spurred people back to work on Monday: many had run out of food and cash. But respect for the monarchy was equally important. Margaret, a curio vendor in Ezulwini valley, personifies both. She said during the strike she lost R800 a day. A widow caring for eight children, she could not afford that. Neither did she understand the reasons behind the
Said Margaret: `I don’t know who [the SFTU] are. I heard on the radio that they had 27 demands, but I don’t know what the demands are … We don’t know, if there’s change, what is going to happen. When I was born, there was the king, and there were the elders.’ Mswati is held in high esteem by much of the population. For many, it was inconceivable that things would not be back to normal if the king said they would be. Even the strike organisers have been careful not to challenge the king directly. When Mswati accused them of plotting to overthrow him, he struck a raw nerve. Sithole made a point of denying the charge, accusing the `human curtain’ of royals around Mswati of misinforming him about the true aim of the protest. Sithole argued the monarchy should remain, but be constitutionally accountable. `If we are talking of the removal of the 1973 decree, we are saying that the king should be elevated above politics; leave the politicians to do the dirty work.’ Kislon Shongwe, president of the leading opposition party, the People’s United Democratic Movement — which has been grudgingly tolerated since it `unbanned’ itself in 1992 –agreed. `Take it from me, of all the organisations in the country, not one of them has an agenda to get rid of the king, but all agreed that he should be a constitutional monarch, and elevated above party politics.’
But if the king is respected, the same does not always go for the rest of the extended royal clan, which, according to one estimate, makes up about 7% of the population. Dhlaminis (the royal clan name) have greater access to government employment and decision-making positions and are often perceived to freeload at the expense of taxpayers. The prime minister is always a Dhlamini and the majority of Cabinet members, all appointed by the king or the queen mother, are royal. Shongwe criticised the activities of two royal-controlled companies, started with national assets in the interests of `development’ but now perceived to be mostly benefiting royal family members. Shongwe argued the royal companies should be put under control of central government and used for the benefit of `all people’. It is this kind of demand which may make the royals resistant to change. Mswati is generally held to be more progressive than most royals, but while they stand to lose privilege, the youthful king is unlikely to get much support for reforms from those who are closest to him.