Wally Mbhele
Colonel Jack Cronje, former commander of the dreaded Vlakplaas police hit-squad unit, this week went to listen to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s hearings on the State Security Council with anticipation.
He was hoping his apartheid masters, specifically former minister of law and order Adriaan Vlok, would verify his amnesty submission – and scores of other police amnesty- seekers – that they were acting on orders from the top when they killed political opponents.
Supported by his walking stick and in the company of his lawyer, Cronje left dejected with disbelief. His hopes were shattered.
He was clearly contemptuous of their explanations that terms such as “eliminate” or “remove permanently from society” were misinterpreted. According to Vlok and other core members of the security council, such terms did not mean “orders to kill political opponents”.
They told the commission these terms could have been mistakenly interpreted by their subordinates to mean kill and torture opponents of apartheid. “All of a sudden they no longer know,” said Cronje, after watching his amnesty case crumble into dust.
The purpose of the hearing, according to the truth commission, was to gain an understanding of the motives and perspectives of key figures who served on the security council. It was also to inquire how they perceived and understood the nature of the past conflict.
At the end of the hearings on Wednesday, it was abundantly clear the truth commission had learnt little or nothing at all.
The most bizarre element that emerged in their testimony is that all went only as far as apologising for “mistakes” but stopped short of admitting authorising the actions of their foot- soldiers.
They spoke about the war that was taking place, for which they had devised “counter- revolutionary strategies” to win. But strategies to conquer the enemy were misinterpreted by the men who implemented them.
They were never able to explain why such misinterpretations became “so universal and systematic”. Neither were they able to tell why the police considered blacks inferior.
“I became so unpopular in the police because I said `let’s go with a smile rather than a sjambok’. I took a sjambok out of the police hands,” Vlok tried to convince the commission.
This moment came after Vlok surprised the audience with his avowed denials when he took the witness stand. He banged the table, continuously wagged his finger and time and again reminded the commission that “these things happened on the ground. How were we supposed to know? It’s as simple as that.
“There was a chain of command. There’s no way in which someone on the ground would phone me and say `look, we’ve done this’. We at the top took certain decisions. We used certain terminology, not being aware that it would be misinterpreted. It was capable of misinterpretation.”
Vlok said he would only accept moral responsibility for his men’s actions. “I can’t run away from those occasions where as a result of my words somebody committed an offence, I’m obliged to accept responsibility,” he said.
“In a court of law, what status would that have? Were there no instances where you foresaw that you would in fact be bear criminal liability?” commission chair Desmond Tutu asked.
“Actually, I can’t answer that, I must be honest,” quipped Vlok, adding – in a clear reference to Tutu – “we should have listened to honourable and credible men but we were indoctrinated”.
Vlok’s submission drove Tutu to tell him: “We’ve not got all the answers we had wanted from you. This was our last chance to deal with our horrible past.” A chance Vlok and his ilk seemed to have ignored this week.