National Narrative Versus Local Truths: the Truth and Reconciliation Commission's Engagement with Duduza
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National Narrative versus Local Truths: The Truth and Reconciliation Commission's Engagement with Duduza by Hugo van der Merwe In Posel, D. & Simpson, G. (eds), Commissioning the Past: Understanding South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission, pp. 269-281, Johannesburg: Witwatersrand University Press. Hugo van der Merwe is a Project Manager in the Transition and Reconciliation Programme at the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation. Introduction One of the central goals of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was to 'uncover the truth' about South Africa's human rights abuses. This paper explores different understandings of the nature of this truth, by examining the tensions between the views of the TRC and those of a range of community stakeholders in Duduza, a township near Johannesburg.1 A central component of the TRC's reconciliation agenda was to develop and promote a common understanding of the history of the apartheid conflict. Through collecting individual stories and convening a hearing on human rights violations in Duduza, the TRC reflected to the community certain images of its own history. While Duduza residents were extremely interested in revealing and recording the truth about the past, they found the TRC process problematic in many ways. They felt that the type of information considered relevant and the space for complexity in the narratives were too constrained. Community reconciliation and local history, as perceived by the residents, required a much more involved, long-term engagement with the dynamics of local conflict. The TRC's Engagement with Local History While the TRC's mandate covered a range of responsibilities, section 3(1) of the enabling legislation spelled out its specific objectives: The objectives of the Commission shall be to promote national unity and reconciliation in a spirit of understanding which transcends the conflicts and divisions of the past by – (a) establishing as complete a picture as possible of the causes, nature and extent of the gross violations of human rights which were committed … by conducting investigations and holding hearings; (b) facilitating the granting of amnesty to persons who make full disclosure of all the relevant facts relating to acts associated with a political objective and comply with the requirements of this Act; (c) establishing and making known the fate or whereabouts of victims and by restoring the human and civil dignity of such victims by granting them an opportunity to relate their own accounts of the violations of which they are the victims, and by recommending reparation measures in respect of them; (d) compiling a report providing as comprehensive an account as possible of the activities and findings of the Commission … and which contains recommendations of measures to prevent the future violations of human rights.2 The Act did not specify exactly how the TRC should go about 'establishing as complete a picture as possible of the causes, nature and extent of the gross violations of human rights', nor how it should grant victims 'an opportunity to relate their own accounts of the violations'.3 It was also not clear how these objectives could be achieved in a way that would 'promote national unity and reconciliation in a spirit of understanding which transcends the conflicts and divisions of the past'.4 The TRC operationalised these specific objectives in relation to particular communities by collecting statements from local victims and then holding a community hearing on gross human rights violations. These community hearings became the dominant focus of the first one and a half years of the TRC's operation, shaping the public image of its work and setting the scene for its subsequent amnesty hearings, investigations and published findings. Between April 1996 and May 1997, eighty such community hearings were held. These were public meetings lasting between one and three days, during which ten to twelve victims told their stories to a panel of Commissioners and a hall full of community members and local and international leaders. These hearings served a number of functions for the Commission. First, they focused on victims, giving them an opportunity to speak out, to be listened to by representatives of government, to express their feelings in public, and to explain what they wanted with regard to truth, reparation and healing. Secondly, the local community had the opportunity to find out directly from the victims what had happened, to clear up suspicions about who was involved in which abuses, and to break the culture of silence and mistrust among community members. It was hoped that this process would promote understanding among different groupings in local communities, and among political parties and different races. Thirdly, the community hearings provided a powerful media image that could be conveyed to the country as a whole. Night after night, for several months, national television presented South Africans with the stories of atrocity and suffering related by victims at the hearings. The goal of this national message was to allow the whole country to confront its past, and to make it impossible for people to deny the suffering that had been caused by the conflict. Using Duduza as a case study, this paper demonstrates how the tension between these different levels of intervention – personal, community and national – ultimately undermined the TRC's ability to make an effective impact on the personal and community levels. The TRC probably impacted most effectively at the national level, largely through the extensive media coverage of its victim and amnesty hearings. While the nature and extent of this impact may be debated, the profile it received and the level of public interest give some indication of its significance.5 Duduza Background to the Conflict Duduza is a black township that forms part of the Greater Nigel area on the East Rand. Nigel itself is an historically white town, with neighbouring African, Indian and coloured townships. The total population of the town and townships is between 150 000 and 200 000, and over half these people live in Duduza. Duduza has experienced a great deal of political conflict over the last thirty years. There was some violence here in the wake of the 1976 Soweto uprising, in which a number of youths were shot and killed by the police. After a period of relative political calm, the community mobilised again in the early 1980s under the leadership of the Duduza Civic Association, a locally based political structure aligned with the African National Congress (ANC). In 1985, violence erupted after police fired on a march organised to protest against the bucket sewage system used by the Duduza Town Council. Over the following two years, there was ongoing violence between members of the community, the police and the council. Black policemen and councillors living in the township were chased out and the area was made 'ungovernable', meaning that state structures were effectively expelled. Youth leaders emerged during this period and took a harder line. The police response to protest action also became more drastic and brutal. In one incident, the police attacked the house of a Duduza Civic Association leader, killing his two daughters. In a revenge attack by youths, a white woman from a nearby farm was ambushed and killed. The police made extensive use of detention and torture, and of assassination in some cases, to suppress political protest in the area. They also infiltrated local political structures, and in 1985 orchestrated the 'zero hand grenade' incident, in which a number of Duduza activists were killed.6 The murder of alleged police informer, Maki Skhosana, was linked to this incident. Rumours spread through the community that she had had a relationship with a police operative and had informed on the victims. She was beaten and stoned to death by members of the community, and her body set alight and mutilated. A number of people were subsequently convicted and imprisoned for the murder. Tension also arose around the presence of Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) supporters in Duduza hostels. In 1991, violence erupted when IFP supporters, who had been chased out of hostels in the neighbouring townships by ANC members, fled to the Duduza hostels. The conflict that emerged was both among hostel dwellers, and between the hostel and community residents. Eventually, residents burned down and demolished the hostels. Some of the hostel dwellers were absorbed into the community, while others fled to other townships. After the democratic transition of 1994, political tensions in Duduza continued in other forms. One source of conflict was the local government election for the Greater Nigel Council in 1995. There were allegations of intimidation around the nomination and election of candidates to represent the ANC on the council. The ANC candidates who finally represented Duduza, which had been allocated six of the ten council seats, won by a wide margin against National Party (NP) and independent candidates. The three seats in the white neighbourhood of Nigel, an area previously held by the Conservative Party and contested in 1995 by the Freedom Front, were won by the NP, while the ANC narrowly won the seat in the coloured and Indian area against NP opposition. The ANC thus held 70 per cent of the seats in the Greater Nigel Council, which meant they could make budgetary decisions without having to reach consensus with the NP. These are the broader, visible dynamics of the conflict. But while there were certain clear battle lines between some groups, many internal divisions also arose as the conflict metastasised. The cohesion of the community was destroyed, as suspicions, allegations of complicity, retribution and competition for leadership led to violent internal struggles and suppression of internal dissent. By infiltrating activist groups and planting rumours, the state security forces created and fostered suspicion among residents.