Lindy Heinecken Lost in Transition and Transformation

Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications

Lindy Heinecken South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military Lost in Transition and Transformation Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications

Series Editor Anthony J. Masys, Associate Professor, Director of Global Disaster Management, Humanitarian Assistance and Homeland Security, University of South Florida, Tampa, USA

Advisory Board Gisela Bichler, California State University, San Bernardino, CA, USA Thirimachos Bourlai, West Virginia University, Morgantown, WV, USA Chris Johnson, University of Glasgow, Glasgow, UK Panagiotis Karampelas, Hellenic Air Force Academy, Attica, Greece Christian Leuprecht, Royal Military College of Canada, Kingston, ON, Canada Edward C. Morse, University of California, Berkeley, CA, USA David Skillicorn, Queen’s University, Kingston, ON, Canada Yoshiki Yamagata, National Institute for Environmental Studies, Tsukuba, Ibaraki, Japan Indexed by SCOPUS The series Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications comprises interdisciplinary research covering the theory, foundations and domain-specific topics pertaining to security. Publications within the series are peer-reviewed monographs and edited works in the areas of: –– biological and chemical threat recognition and detection (e.g., biosensors, aerosols, forensics) –– crisis and disaster management –– terrorism –– cyber security and secure information systems (e.g., encryption, optical and photonic systems) –– traditional and non-traditional security –– energy, food and resource security –– economic security and securitization (including associated infrastructures) –– transnational crime –– human security and health security –– social, political and psychological aspects of security –– recognition and identification (e.g., optical imaging, biometrics, authentication and verification) –– smart surveillance systems –– applications of theoretical frameworks and methodologies (e.g., grounded theory, complexity, network sciences, modelling and simulation) Together, the high-quality contributions to this series provide a cross-disciplinary overview of forefront research endeavours aiming to make the world a safer place. The editors encourage prospective authors to correspond with them in advance of submitting a manuscript. Submission of manuscripts should be made to the Editor-in- Chief or one of the Editors.

More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/5540 Lindy Heinecken

South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military Lost in Transition and Transformation Lindy Heinecken Department of Sociology and Anthropology Stellenbosch University Stellenbosch, South Africa

The Edition is not for sale in South Africa. Customers from South Africa please order the print book from: UCT Press, an imprint of Juta and Company (Pty) Ltd. ISBN of the South Africa edition: 978-1-77582-210-3

ISSN 1613-5113 ISSN 2363-9466 (electronic) Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications ISBN 978-3-030-33733-9 ISBN 978-3-030-33734-6 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6

Jointly published with Juta & co. Ltd. ISBN of the Co-Publisher’s edition: 978-1-77582-210-3 © Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the Publishers, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publishers, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publishers nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publishers remain neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

This Springer imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland Foreword

South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military is an authoritative and meticulously researched account of how the South African National Defence Force (SANDF), and indeed the Department of Defence and Veterans Affairs, came to be in its current state of critical decline. Lindy Heinecken tells it clearly and succinctly with the understanding of someone who has studied the military from inside and out for several decades. She is the ultimate empathetic social scientist. For many years, the Institute for Defence Policy (now the Institute for Security Studies), which I founded, was intimately involved in preparing the future for a post-apartheid military. After the unbanning of the African National Congress and the release of Nelson Mandela, I led several delegations to Germany and the United Kingdom ahead of the April 1994 elections. These were tense trips during which senior members of the National Party; African National Congress; the South African Defence Force; Umkhonto we Sizwe (the armed wing of the ANC); APLA (the armed wing of the Pan Africanist Congress); officers from the Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei (the four nominally independent homelands) defence forces; the Inkatha Freedom Party; and others tiptoed around each other. We listened to how Germany institutionalised oversight and accountability after the establishment of the Bundeswehr in 1955, and took home lessons in how to exercise civil oversight of the military. Across the Channel, we saw how Parliament in Westminster did it based on their traditions. We did not actually understand anything. And, if we did, the incom- ing Government of National Unity applied little of it. The politicians instituted a complex system of civilian control of the military that was ill-suited to South Africa. Effectively, parliamentary oversight of the military is not working because a culture of neglect and secrecy pervades the SANDF. On the advice of consultants, the military was reorganised, and it implemented recommendations that were rooted in private-sector management theory, with no understanding of the armed forces. Poor leadership and bad management opened the door to confrontational unionism, and, inadvertently, the top leadership in the SANDF became politicised. Amid other personnel challenges, South Africa has ended up with an old, unfit, unsustainable force that clings to unrealistic ambitions. These are reflected in the development and approval by cabinet and Parliament of the 2015 Defence Review. Twenty-five years

v vi Foreword down the line, we have a national defence force that is ill-equipped to undertake more than nominal peacekeeping. It cannot really support the police internally, cannot provide more than token border security and does not have the means to provide security in South Africa’s vast rural areas (where the police are even more under- resourced). At the same time, there is little debate or awareness of the role of the military within broader society. This is what happens when a military becomes lost in transition and is stuck in never-ending transformation. There are signs of hope in the generational renewal within the SANDF. As old soldiers fade away, new leadership is stepping up that has come up through the ranks. But without a very determined, politically directed intervention, full renewal is still probably at least a decade away, possibly longer. For the SANDF, Lindy Heinecken concludes, the most pressing issue is now to return to the ‘hard’ issues that affect defence transformation and future roles and functions of the military. Tough decisions need to be made in terms of personnel cuts, rejuvenation and equipping the defence force. Decisive, strong leadership is needed. Instead, what is happening is that South Africa is disinvesting in defence. We need to learn from our experience, and there is no better way to start than to read this excellent book.

Founder and Chairperson of the Board of Trustees Jakkie Cilliers Institute for Security Studies Pretoria, South Africa August 2019 Acknowledgements

Hereby I acknowledge the contributions of the SANDF personnel who have contributed to the content of this book through their participation in the numerous surveys, interviews and research projects over the past 30 years; fellow colleagues from the Military Academy, civilian academics and senior officers for your comments and critique of the various chapters; the research assistants who have assisted me over the years in locating sources, editing drafts and formatting references, saving me an enormous amount of time. I also acknowledge my family, without whose support and patience this book would not have been completed and the four legged beings in my life, who kept me sane during the writing process. In terms of financial support, thanks and appreciation to the various organisations who have funded this book through the various research and writing stages: the National Research Foundation, African Peacebuilding Network, as well as the Academic and Non-Fiction Authors’ Association of South Africa (ANFASA). Lastly, to Stellenbosch University for a grant towards the publication of this book. All these contributions in various ways made the writing, research, editing, reviewing and publishing of this book possible.

vii Contents

1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation �� 1 1.1 Historical Prelude �� 3 1.2 Period of Political Transition �� 12 1.3 Scope of the Book �� 15 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational Restructuring �� 19 2.1 Changed Security Context �� 20 2.2 South Africa: Shifting Mission Priorities �� 23 2.3 Organisational Restructuring �� 30 2.4 Conclusion �� 36 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations �� 37 3.1 South Africa’s Deployment on Peace Missions �� 39 3.2 Training for Peacekeeping and the Experiences of Peacekeepers �� 45 3.3 Challenges of the JI2M Environment �� 48 3.4 Operational and Psychological Stress �� 50 3.5 Conclusion �� 53 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society �� 55 4.1 Theories of Civil-Military Relations �� 56 4.2 Civil Control and Oversight �� 58 4.3 Apartheid and Civil Control �� 59 4.4 Civil Control and Oversight Mechanisms �� 61 4.5 Erosion of Civil Control and Oversight �� 63 4.6 Demilitarisation and the Civil-Military Gap �� 65 4.7 Conclusion �� 68

ix x Contents

5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity �� 71 5.1 The Complexity of Military Integration �� 72 5.1.1 Profile of Integrated Forces �� 72 5.1.2 Integration, Inclusion and Exclusion �� 74 5.2 Political and ‘Racial’ Transformation �� 76 5.2.1 Affirmative Action and Racial Representation �� 77 5.2.2 Consequences of Affirmative Action �� 79 5.2.3 Underlying Causes of Racism and Discrimination �� 81 5.3 Managing Versus Valuing Diversity �� 84 5.4 Conclusion �� 85 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation �� 87 6.1 Difficulties with Reintegration into Civilian Society �� 89 6.2 Military Veterans in South Africa �� 91 6.3 Challenges of Civilian Reintegration �� 94 6.3.1 Economic Integration �� 94 6.3.2 Social Reintegration �� 97 6.4 Political Integration �� 99 6.5 Compensating Military Veterans �� 100 6.6 Conclusion �� 103 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration �� 105 7.1 Intersections of Race and Gender �� 106 7.2 Challenges of Gender Integration �� 110 7.2.1 Gender Equality, Inclusion and Resistance �� 110 7.2.2 Valuing Difference and Peacekeeping �� 112 7.2.3 Re-Gendering Military Culture �� 115 7.3 Conclusion �� 118 8 F air Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS �� 121 8.1 The Impact of HIV/AIDS on the Military �� 122 8.2 Education, Prevention and Surveillance �� 127 8.3 Human Rights and HIV Testing �� 129 8.4 HIV/AIDS and Deployment �� 131 8.5 Conclusion �� 134 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion �� 137 9.1 Factors Facilitating Military Unionism �� 139 9.2 Emergence of Military Unions �� 141 9.3 Resisting Military Unions �� 144 9.4 Sub verting the Need for Military Unions �� 147 9.5 Conclusion �� 151 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections �� 153

Bibliography �� 161 Abbreviations and Acronyms

ACIRC African Capacity for Immediate Response to Crises AMIB African Union Mission in Burundi AMIS African Union Mission in Sudan ANC African National Congress APLA Azanian People’s Liberation Army ART antiretroviral therapy ASF African Standby Force AU African Union AUSTF AU Special Task Force BDF Bophuthatswana Defence Force BMATT British Military Advisory and Training Team CDF Ciskei Defence Force CHA comprehensive health assessment COIN counterinsurgency DDR disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration DMV Department of Military Veterans DoD Department of Defence DRC Democratic Republic of Congo EO equal opportunity ETD education, training and development FIB Force Intervention Brigade (SADC) FTF Full-Time Forces IFP Inkatha Freedom Party INDFSC Interim National Defence Force Service Commission JI2M Joint, Interdepartmental, Interagency and Multinational JSCD Joint Standing Committee on Defence KZSPF KwaZulu Self-Protection Force MAB Military Arbitration Board MBC Military Bargaining Council MK Umkhonto we Sizwe

xi xii Abbreviations and Acronyms

MONUC United Nations Organization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo MONUSCO United Nations Organization Stabilization Mission in the Congo MSDS Military Skills Development System MTUSA Military Trade Union of South Africa OOTW operations other than war ONUB UN Operation in Burundi OPV offshore patrol vessel PAC Pan Africanist Congress PCDMV Portfolio Committee on Defence and Military Veterans PF Permanent Force PIP Psychological Integration Programme PSO peace-support operations PTF Part-Time Force PTSD post-traumatic stress disorder ROE rules of engagement SA Army South African Army SAAF South African Air Force SACP South African Communist Party SADC Southern African Development Community SADF South African Defence Force SAMHS South African Military Health Services SA Navy South African Navy SANDF South African National Defence Force SANDU South African National Defence Union SANMVA South African National Military Veterans Association SANUS South African National Union of Soldiers SAP South African Police SAPS South African Police Service SASFU South African Security Forces Union SCOPA Standing Committee on Public Accounts SDPP Strategic Defence Procurement Package SDUs self-defence units TBVC Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda, Ciskei (defence forces) TCC troop-contributing countries TDF Transkei Defence Force UDF Union Defence Force UN United Nations UNAMID UN African Mission in Darfur UNDPKO UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations UP United Party VDF Venda Defence Force WO warrant officer Chapter 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation

Throughout South Africa’s history, the military has played a central role in shaping the modern state and its relations with broader civilian society.1 At the same time, forces stemming from the wider domestic and international environment have influenced the functioning of the military.2 How the military adapts is determined not only by these external forces but also by their own combat experiences, both past and present. Especially where political reform stems from the end of military hostilities, they are often pressured to transform their organisational structures and cultural ethos in order to adjust to the new political environment. In South Africa, the military has undergone numerous phases of transformation: after the end of the Anglo-Boer wars and the establishment of the Union of South Africa in 1910; after the Second World War and the electoral victory of the National Party in 1948; and more recently with the end of the Cold War and Border War, and the transition to democracy in 1994. The focus of this book is on how the South African National Defence Force (SANDF) has adapted to the new strategic and political environment in the post-apartheid era. But, first, an explanation of the concepts transition and transformation is required, as these can mean many things in different contexts. A transition is typically the period in which a country moves from one political regime to another. Such periods are, by and large, associated with times of conflict, negotiation and political settlement, culminating in the institutionalisation of a new political order. The military is often central to this process, especially when the political settlement is the outcome of armed conflict and the old regime is reluctant to relinquish its hold on military power. However, once a political agreement is reached on the future of the armed forces, the military typically undergoes a period

1 Annette Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa (London/New York: Tauris Academic Studies, 1996), 210–216. 2 Philippe Manigart, ‘Restructuring the Armed Forces’, in Handbook of the Sociology of the Military, eds. Giuseppe Caforio and Marina Nuciari (Cham, Switzerland: Springer International Publishing, 2018), 406–407.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 1 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_1 2 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation of defence transformation in accordance with the new political dispensation and changed security context. According to David Chuter,3 this process of defence transformation centres on four main clusters: organisational transformation, political transformation, cultural transformation and human resource transformation. These four dimensions are interrelated, as all are influenced to a greater or lesser extent by the security, political, legal and social context within which the military has to operate. Organisational transformation constitutes the more technocratic processes of making the military institution more effective and cost-efficient in terms of its organisational and force structures. In the post-Cold War era, many armed forces have shifted from a conscript to an all-volunteer force. A major challenge has been how to reconfigure the force structure and design to meet shifting mission priorities, within an increasingly complex strategic environment. Most armed forces continue to be structured for warfare, while in reality they are deployed most extensively in military operations other than war (OOTW) and in peacekeeping, for which they are not designed, trained or equipped. How military organisations transform to meet the various demands placed upon them has been a major challenge in the post-Cold War period, especially in countries like South Africa which have undergone a transition to a new political dispensation. Political transformation refers to measures put in place to ensure that the military conforms to the new political dispensation within which it is located, and includes ‘the acknowledgement of the principle of civil supremacy, the institution of appropriate mechanisms of oversight and control, adherence to the principles and practices of accountability and transparency, and so on’.4 Affecting this is the past involvement of the military in domestic politics, the extent to which it has been used in an internal role, its status as a military force, the legitimacy it is afforded and its international reputation. How to exercise civil control over the armed forces is key to these debates, especially in countries like South Africa where the military has been central to state power. However, where the military becomes marginal to state power and where there is evidence of a civil-military gap, this too has a detrimental influence on civil-military relations and civil control of the armed forces. Chuter defines cultural transformation as ‘the transformation of the culture of the institution, the leadership, management and administrative ethos and the traditions upon which the institution is founded. It also includes the value system upon which the institution is based.’5 In South Africa, the military has gone through numerous cultural transformations as it shifted from an institution based essentially on British culture, and upholding imperialist interests, to one based on Afrikaner nationalism during apartheid, and to an essentially African military, functioning within a democracy. With this, we see shifts in terms of how the leadership and

3 David Chuter, Defence Transformation: A Short Guide to the Issues, ISS Monograph series, no. 49, 1 August 2000, 1–2, https://issafrica.org/research/monographs/monograph-49-defence-transformation-a-short-guide-to-the-issues-by-david-chuter, accessed 6 August 2019. 4 Ibid. 5 Ibid., 1. 1.1 Historical Prelude 3 organisational culture of the military changed as the security, political, economic, legal and societal context have impacted on the management and administration of the armed forces. Closely associated with cultural transformation is the transformation of human resources, which includes changes in the military in terms of its racial, ethnic and gender composition, as well as its human resource practices and policies. In democracies, armed forces are under pressure to be representative of society and to bring their policies and practices in line with principles enshrined in the constitution of the particular country. In this regard, pressures stemming from broader society have compelled the SANDF to revise its human-resource policies in terms of gender equality, fair labour practices and freedom of association. These issues have dominated defence transformation in the post-apartheid era, influencing the ethos and military culture of the SANDF. The focus of this book is on these processes of defence transformation within the SANDF since 1994, with reference to how the military has adapted to the new security, political, legal and social environments, and with reference to specific challenges it has faced. These include having to adapt to a new strategic security environment, the reconfiguration of the organisational and force structure of the SANDF, and deployment in peacekeeping missions. Other major issues stemming from changes in the political environment include: the political oversight of the military and civil control; the need to ensure that the military is representative of society; and how to accommodate the interests of military veterans. Beyond this, the SANDF has been required to adapt to a changed legal and social environment, culminating in a revision of its human-resource policies related to fair labour practices, gender equality and pressure to accommodate military unions. These are the issues addressed in this book, but before looking at these in depth, it is necessary to provide some historical context of the different phases of transformation the South African military has undergone over time.

1.1 Historical Prelude

This narrative begins with the legacies of the First Anglo-Boer War (1880–1881) and particularly the Second Anglo–Boer War (1899–1902), also known as the South African War. These wars had a profound effect on the political trajectory of the country, and not least on the military, which had to integrate former Boer and British enemy forces. When the Union of South Africa (Union) was formed in 1910, one of the first tasks was to create a unified defence force. At the time, there were four separate armies in the Union’s four provinces, namely, the Cape Province, Orange Free State, Transvaal and Natal. Here, an attempt was made to accommodate the various strengths and military traditions of the different armed forces in the structure of the Union Defence Forces (UDF), established in 1912. The UDF laid the foundation of the country’s armed forces in terms of structure, military culture and traditions. The South African Defence Act (13 of 1912) made 4 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation provision for the establishment of a Permanent Force (PF), a standing force of career soldiers based on British traditions, an Active Citizen Force (ACF), the Rifle Associations (incorporating the Boer commandos), which relied on volunteers, a Coast Garrison Force and a Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. The Boer commandos existed alongside the ACF and were largely responsible for safeguarding and protecting rural communities. All white males (not blacks) between 17 and 60 years of age were liable for military service, although this was never enacted.6 Blacks were effectively excluded from both the political settlement and the formation of the military. In fact, the formation of the South African National Native National Congress (1912), which became the African National Congress (ANC) in 1925, was a result of the many grievances pertaining to the exclusion of the black majority from the discussions leading to Union in 1910 and to the laws that controlled and restricted black movement and labour.7 Despite the promise to accommodate all the different military cultures, it was British military culture and traditions that shaped the UDF more than anything specifically drawn from the Boer forces, which were associated with a less regimented militia structure and military culture. While some Afrikaner generals slotted into the dominant British character and ethos of the new force, others resigned, as the UDF was seen as a mere extension of the British Empire. In effect, little was done to accommodate Boer military culture and many Afrikaners found both the military culture and domination of the English language alienating.8 UDF officers and troops attended training courses in Britain, and it was through this standardisation of training and equipment that integration with the British forces in both the First and Second World Wars was possible.9 However, this was not an easy process, as past military cultures, political loyalties, ethnic divisions and language continued to divide the ranks in the early years. A far greater challenge was embedded in the political domain, given the deep- seated resentment between the Boers and the British, stemming from the Anglo- Boer wars. From the beginning, the UDF emphasised the importance of being politically non-partisan, given the political divisions that existed within society. The first test of political loyalty and unity came in 1914, when the UDF was called upon to suppress serious labour unrest on the Witwatersrand. With the PF still in its trans- formational and integration phase, the ACF, consisting mostly of the former Boer commandos, quickly mobilised and effectively contained the strikers.10 While this could be seen as a test of loyalty and subservience to the state, in fact it was not.

6 W.A. Dorning, ‘A Concise History of the South African Defence Force (1912–1987)’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 17, no. 2 (1987): 1–23. 7 David Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball Publishers, 2010), 36–38. 8 Albert Grundlingh, ‘The King’s Afrikaners? Enlistment and Ethnic Identity in the Union of South Africa’s Defence Force During the Second World War, 1939–45’, The Journal of African History 40, no. 3 (1999): 395–410. 9 Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa, 38 and 68. 10 Rene Geyer, ‘The Union Defence Force and the 1914 Strike: The Dynamics of the Shadow of the Burgher’, Historia 59, no. 2 (2014): 136–151. 1.1 Historical Prelude 5

At the outbreak of the First World War in 1914, the UDF was called upon to support the British Empire, and specifically to take control of German South West Africa (GSWA). This event rekindled Afrikaner nationalism, since many Afrikaners opposed the deployment of the UDF in GSWA. Some former Boer generals resigned from the UDF and others openly revolted against the Union.11 The Boer or Maritz Revolt, as it was called, was soon suppressed, but nonetheless demonstrated how easily political tensions and a range of embedded identities can divide a military along existing fault lines.12 Over time, the UDF13 became more unified and its organisational and force structure was transformed according to the political, economic and security context of the time. Ian van der Waag14 provides a comprehensive overview of how the UDF evolved and responded to the various demands placed upon it in terms of the various military campaigns and involvement in the First and Second World Wars. It is worth mentioning at this point that while the UDF was deployed mostly in support of British interests outside the country, it was also used to suppress internal conflict that posed a threat to both capitalist and class interests. Marian Lacey15 refers to the culture of the UDF as one of platskiet-politiek (the politics of shooting down),16 whereby both black and white working-class resistance was suppressed through the use of military force. This was most notable during the 1922 Rand Rebellion during which the UDF was deployed under martial law. Prime Minister Jan Smuts crushed the rebellion with 20,000 troops, artillery, tanks and bomber aircraft. Over time in South Africa, the military was used to uphold class interests and protect a given social and political order when faced with outbreaks of civil disobedience, unrest and violence.17 This was largely accepted by whites, as reflected by Lacey18: The use of military intervention to secure political goals was regarded by a significant sector of South African society as an acceptable form of activity; militarisation, suspension of the rule of law, and parliamentary sanction of the arbitrary use of force were not generally regarded as the hallmarks of an aberrant society.

11 Ibid.; Marian Lacey, ‘Platskiet Politiek: The Role of the Union Defence Force (UDF) 1910– 1924’, in War and Society: The Militarisation of South Africa, eds. Jacklyn Cock and Laurie Nathan, 28–50 (Cape Town: David Philip Publishers, 1989). 12 Sandra Swart, ‘A Boer and His Gun and His Wife Are Three Things Always Together: Republican Masculinity and the 1914 Rebellion’, Journal of Southern African Studies 24, no. 4 (1998): 737–751. 13 In 1921 the Union Defence Forces was renamed the Union Defence Force. 14 Ian van der Waag, ‘The Union Defence Force between the Two World Wars, 1919–1940’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 30, no. 2 (2000): 193–219. 15 Lacey, ‘Platskiet Politiek’, 28–50. 16 Platskiet-politiek was frequently used by General Smuts and was severely criticised by General Hertzog, leader of the opposition National Party, as defending pro-imperialist policies (Lacey, ‘Platskiet Politiek’, 35). 17 Andries Fokkens, ‘The Role and Application of the Union Defence Force in the Suppression of Internal Unrest’ (MMil thesis, Department of Military Science, Stellenbosch University, 2006). 18 Lacey, ‘Platskiet Politiek’, 39. 6 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation

Not surprisingly, the Union Defence Policy of 1926 listed the UDF’s first priority as the prevention and suppression of internal unrest, followed by the military training of the young men of the Union, the protection of the Union against external threat and preparing the UDF for expeditionary mission should the Union again become involved in a European war.19 In the years that followed, the expansion of the UDF was greatly influenced by the difficult economic conditions associated with the Great Depression of the 1930s, which affected its ability to equip, train and prepare its forces for the various roles.20 Even though some renewal programmes were introduced to improve the manoeuvrability, mobility and sustainability of the armed forces, the UDF was severely lacking in terms of its expeditionary capability.21 When the Second World War broke out in 1939, this capacity had to be rebuilt from scratch. Within a few years this was achieved and the UDF participated extensively in military operations in East Africa, North Africa and Europe.22 During this time, the UDF developed into a significant military force, sustained by the economic growth that had picked up after the end of the Great Depression. However, domestically this was a troubled time for South Africa as Afrikaner nationalism and factionalism was growing. By the end of the Second World War the white population of South Africa was polarised between those who supported the United Party (UP) coalition government led by Jan Smuts, and felt closely aligned with Britain, and the Afrikaner nationalists who supported the National Party (NP). During this time, the country experienced an increase in black political and social resistance against the racial policies of the state. This was used to bolster white insecurities and mobilise support for the NP against the impending swart gevaar (black peril) and swart oorstroming (black swamping) that was threatening the political and economic hegemony of whites.23 When it came to the 1948 elections, the NP fuelled these concerns to secure a narrow defeat of the UP at the polls. This would set the country on a different political trajectory based on the racial policy of separate development, known as apartheid. The political reforms would pave the way for major changes within the military as the NP set about to Afrikanerise the public service, thus breaking away from British influence.

19 Stephen Ellis, ‘The Historical Significance of South Africa’s Third Force’,Journal of Southern African Studies 24, no. 2 (1998): 261–299. 20 Ibid.; Andre Wessels, ‘The First Two Years of War: The Development of the Union Defence Forces (UDF) September 1939 to September 1951’, Military History Journal 11, no. 5 (2000), http://samilitaryhistory.org/vol115aw.html, accessed 6 August 2019. 21 Ian van der Waag, A Military History of Modern South Africa (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball Publishers, 2015). 22 Ibid., 195–214. 23 This stemmed from the increase in the number of blacks moving to the urban areas and, ultimately, the threat this was perceived to pose to white employment in the face of black competition. 1.1 Historical Prelude 7

Major defence reforms were implemented, especially after NP changed the name of the UDF to the South African Defence Force (SADF) under the Defence Act, 44 of 1957. Boulter24 explains how the NP made an active attempt to rid the military of its British military culture and ethos by changing the language policy, uniforms, rank, medals and insignia, as well as by establishing new training and educational institutions. The UDF was purged of senior officers who were supporters of the UP. Likewise, English-speaking officers were prevented from taking up senior posts, even in circumstances where they were vastly more competent and experienced.25 Promotion opportunities for Afrikaners increased, ‘sending a definite message to English speakers in terms of their future careers in the regular forces’.26 This led to radical transformation in the cultural and human-resource dimension of the SADF. But this was not the only factor affecting the SADF at the time. The Cold War and the changing geopolitical international and domestic context had a profound effect on the SADF’s strategic outlook and development. The threat of communism, or the rooi gevaar (red danger), was growing as the respective superpowers became drawn into the liberation struggles on the African continent. In the early 1960s, many African countries gained their independence from European colonial rule and thereafter the fight for liberation shifted to the remaining colonies bordering South Africa: Angola, Mozambique, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and South West Africa (SWA, now Namibia). In SWA, the South West Africa Peoples’ Organisation (SWAPO) started to wage an armed struggle against South Africa’s occupation of the territory in 1961. At the time, its armed wing, the People’s Liberation Army of Namibia (PLAN), could not infiltrate the country from Angola because of the presence of the Portuguese.27 However, with the collapse of Portuguese rule in Angola (1974) and Mozambique (1975), and the transition to majority rule in Rhodesia (1979), the geopolitical strategic environment for South Africa changed fundamentally. When Angola gained its independence in 1975, SWAPO and PLAN could now operate out of Angola. As for Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK), the ANC’s armed wing, the liberation of these so-called frontline states opened up opportunities to set up bases from which to operate and to infiltrate South Africa.28 Within this context, the SADF was drawn into escalating wars by proxy, initially in support of the Portuguese colonial power and then in support of Renamo (Mozambican National Resistance)29 in Mozambique, the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA) in Angola and the Rhodesian security

24 Roger Boulter, ‘Afrikaner Nationalism in Action: F.C. Erasmus and South Africa’s Defence Forces, 1948–1959’, Nations and Nationalism 6, no. 3 (2000): 437–459. 25 Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa, 96. 26 McGill Alexander, ‘The Militarisation of South African White Society, 1948–1990’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 30, no. 2 (2000): 271–272. 27 C. James Jacobs, ‘The Forward Defence Strategy of the South African Defence Force (SADF) 1978–1989’, Journal for Contemporary History 31, no. 1 (2006): 26. 28 Rocky Williams, ‘The Other Two Armies: A Brief Historical Overview of Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK), 1961–1994’, Military History Journal 11, no. 5 (2000). 29 Portuguese name: Resistência Nacional Moçambicana. 8 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation forces in an attempt to uphold the white minority government in Rhodesia.30 But South Africa was facing similar challenges within its own borders. Within the country, there was growing resistance by the ANC and Pan Africanist Congress (PAC)31 to the apartheid state’s stricter application of existing discriminatory legislation. The Sharpeville massacre in 1960 served as the turning point, moving both the ANC and PAC from passive non-violent resistance towards armed struggle. In 1961, the ANC formed MK and the PAC set up its own armed wing, the Azanian People’s Liberation Army (APLA), initially under the name of Poqo. Both MK and APLA embarked on campaigns of armed resistance against the state, including acts of sabotage, guerrilla warfare and terrorism.32 Following the Sharpeville massacre, the government had declared a state of emergency and by 1963 the security forces had arrested almost the entire leadership of the resistance movement under the Suppression of Communism Act (1950).33 Consequently, these political organisations were forced into exile and for most of the 1960s did not pose a direct threat to the South African state.34 According to an official Defence Review at the time, the security threat was defined as follows: Our enemies receive increasing moral and material aid, not merely from the Communist countries, but also from several organisations and some governments in the West. Hostile African states are mainly armed and organised with aid from Communist countries. The presence of the Russians in the Indian Ocean and the Chinese in Zambia and Tanzania is now an accomplished fact. Terrorists are active in Angola, Mozambique and along the Rhodesian border, their training, organisation and armament are improving appreciably.35 Up until the early 1970s, the SADF’s military posture was primarily defensive, but this changed when passive defence was perceived as inadequate to deal with the threat posed by insurgents outside the borders of South Africa.36 Over time, the SADF transformed its organisational structure from a small conventional force into a highly effective counterinsurgency (COIN) force.37 In SWA, its campaign against

30 Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa, 210–216; Deon Fourie, ‘New South Africa and the Armed Forces’, in South Africa: Designing New Political Institutions, eds. Murray Faure and Jan-Erik Lane (London: Sage Publishing, 1996), 160. 31 The PAC was formed in 1959, following a breakaway by the ‘Africanist’ faction of the ANC in 1958 over dissatisfaction with the ANC’s tradition of racial inclusivity (see Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 36–38). 32 Bill Sass, ‘The Union and South African Defence Force: 1912 to 1994’, in About Turn: The Transformation of the South African Military and Intelligence, eds. Jakkie Cilliers and Markus Reichardt (Halfway House: Institute for Defence Policy, 1996), 124; Pallo Jordan and Mac Maharaj, ‘South Africa and the Turn to Armed Resistance’, South African Historical Journal 70, no. 1 (2018): 22. 33 Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 79. 34 Nigel Worden, The Making of Modern South Africa: Conquest, Segregation and Apartheid (Oxford: Blackwell, 1994), 114. 35 Republic of South Africa, Defence and Armaments Production: Period 1960 to 1970 (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 1971), 26. 36 Republic of South Africa, White Paper on Defence (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 1973), 3. 37 Jacobs, ‘The Forward Defence Strategy’, 31. 1.1 Historical Prelude 9

SWAPO led to a number of cross-border campaigns into Angola to push PLAN fighters further north. Although the main objective of the Border War was to prevent SWAPO from gaining control of SWA, the SADF became drawn into the internal war within Angola, which pitted the Popular Armed Forces for the Liberation of Angola (FAPLA) against the South African-backed UNITA.38 In 1982, MK also deployed a brigade inside Angola to fight against UNITA.39 By the mid-1980s the ‘SADF maintained a semi-permanent presence of light mobile search and destroy teams up to 100 km inside Angola to aid UNITA’.40 Fuelled by superpower involvement in the form of military assistance, large- scale violence erupted in Angola. During 1987 to 1988 this drew the SADF into a series of intensive military battles along the Lomba River in support of UNITA, where they achieved spectacular success. This culminated in the battle of Cuito Cuanavale, where the SADF was confronted with far larger FAPLA forces, backed by Cuban troops with Soviet support.41 Long supply lines, lack of control of the airspace, shortage of resources and losses in terms of equipment and manpower (especially white conscripts) resulted in tactical withdrawal.42 Whether it was a retreat by the SADF or a victory for the Angolan/Cuban forces is a subject of much dispute, as both sides claimed victory.43 On the international front, both the Soviet Union and United States indicated to South Africa that they wanted peace in Angola and political settlement in South West Africa. The passing of UN Security Council Resolution 435 provided the foundation for a political settlement in South West Africa in exchange for the complete withdrawal of Cuban troops from Angola. This laid the basis for a regional settlement and the eventual withdrawal of the SADF from the border.44 Internally, the 1980s were turbulent times as resistance in the form of boycotts, stayaways, strikes and civil disobedience mushroomed.45 The Black Consciousness Movement, along with formation of new labour movements, saw the rebuilding of

38 The Portuguese name is União Nacional para a Independência Total de Angola. 39 Williams, ‘The Other Two Armies’, 7–8. 40 Jacobs, ‘The Forward Defence Strategy’, 35. 41 Jannie Geldenhuys, At the Front: A General’s Account of South Africa’s Border War (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball Publishers, 2009), 239–255. 42 Leopold Scholtz, Ratels on the Lomba: The Story of Charlie Squadron (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball Publishers, 2017). 43 See, for example, the debates in Geldenhuys, 2009; Greg Mills and David Williams, 7 Battles that Shaped South Africa (Cape Town: Tafelberg, 2006); Leopold Scholtz, ‘The South African Strategic and Operational Objectives in Angola, 1987–88’, Scientia Militaria: The South African Journal of Military Studies 38, no. 1 (2010): 68–98; Scholtz, 2017; Thula Simpson, Umkhonto we Sizwe: The ANC’s Armed Struggle (Johannesburg: Penguin, 2016); and Andreas Velthuizen, ‘The Significance of the Battle for Cuito Cuanavale: Long-term Foresight of the Current Strategic Landscape’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 37, no. 2 (2009): 107–123. 44 Chester A. Crocker, Herding Cats: Multiparty Mediation in a Complex World (Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace, 1999), 214–242. 45 Worden, The Making of Modern South Africa, 100. 10 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation underground structures of the ANC inside the country.46 Particularly after the Soweto uprising of 1976, the spiral of resistance against apartheid intensified and many youth left the country to join MK and the armed struggle against the state.47 Support for MK grew after a number of spectacular symbolic attacks on the state, the most noteworthy being the rocket attack on the Sasolburg coal-to-oil refinery in 1980, the Koeberg nuclear power station in 1982 and the SADF headquarters at Voortrekkerhoogte in 1983. While this had a positive effect on the ANC’s political hegemony among the black majority, it served as extra justification by the government to expand the power and influence of the security forces.48 Both the South African Police (SAP) and the SADF came to implement the state’s ‘total strategy’ to counter the so-called total onslaught from within and outside the country.49 The decision necessitated an increase in manpower and the review of the SADF’s human-resource policies. There was no system of conscription in South Africa up until 1952. Thereafter, a ballot system was used whereby some 30,000 men were called up annually for three months and three short camps.50 As the perceived threats to South Africa grew, so the number of men called up under the ballot system rose until 1967, when all white males were required to perform military service under the Defence Amendment Act (85 of 1967). From 1978 to 1989 the period of national service was extended to two years. Following the completion of this initial period of service, conscripts were allocated to units in the Citizen Force Reserve or commandos to serve an additional 720 days over a period of 12 years. By the late 1980s, white conscription provided an annual intake of roughly 20,000 men and the estimated number of part-time members available for call-up was around 500,000.51 Through conscription and the part-time force system, the SADF had access to the best available manpower in the country. However, it still experienced acute manpower shortages, resulting in a need to tap into other available human resources. Motivated by manpower shortages, the SADF allowed blacks, Indians and coloureds to join as volunteers from 1971. They served in ethnic battalions and initially only in non-combat positions, although this changed during the 1970s as the operational demands on the SADF increased.52 In 1973 a black combat unit was

46 For a detailed account of MK’s activities, from the emergence of the struggle to the eventual homecoming and transition to democracy, see Simpson, Umkhonto we Sizwe. 47 Williams, ‘The Other Two Armies’, 6. 48 Dale T. McKinley, ‘Umkhonto we Sizwe: A Critical Analysis of the Armed Struggle of the African National Congress’, South African Historical Journal 70, no. 1 (2018): 39. 49 Robert Davies and Dan O’Meara, ‘Total Strategy in Southern Africa: An Analysis of South African Regional Policy since 1978’, Journal of Southern African Studies 11, no. 2 (1987): 183–211. 50 Graeme Callister, “Patriotic Duty or Resented Imposition? Public Reactions to Military Conscription in White South Africa, 1952–1972”, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 35, no. 1 (2007): 51. 51 Sass, ‘The Union and South African Defence Force’, 126. 52 Greg Mills and Geoffrey Wood, ‘Ethnicity, Integration and the South African Armed Forces’, South African Defence Review, no. 12 (1993): 22–36. 1.1 Historical Prelude 11 created, and by 1979 a number of ethnic units were attached to the various regional commands. By early 1986, blacks represented 12%, coloureds 11%, Indians 1% and whites 76% of the full-time force component of the SADF.53 The civilian component also increased during this period in an effort to release regular military personnel for operational service. Similarly, the SADF opened its ranks to women in 1973, primarily out of the need to release white men for operational duties. However, women were limited to support functions such as finance, personnel, logistics, intelligence, medical services and welfare. The SADF’s capacity was also bolstered from the mid-1970s by the creation of armies in each of the homelands: the Transkei Defence Force (TDF) in 1975; the Bophuthatswana Defence Force (BDF) in 1977; the Venda Defence Force (VDF) in 1979; and the Ciskei Defence Force (CDF) in 1980. Collectively, these were known as the TBVC defence forces.54 The homeland armies were tied into regional defence agreements, united in a common defence against the so-called communist onslaught. Largely controlled by Pretoria, they were dependent on the SADF for their finances, equipment, training and leadership. Over time, the homeland armies became integrated into the SADF’s ‘area war’ strategy, to counter the threat posed by the armed struggle of the ANC and PAC, as well as for internal security. Battalions of the SADF were set up in the homelands, primarily for intelligence purposes, and military bases were built near each of the territories. When called upon, homeland forces worked with South African security forces in joint operations against ANC and PAC insurgents crossing and residing within their borders.55 In this way, the TBVC armies became integrated with the operations of the SADF, but not all were equally loyal to the SADF.56 While the CDF relied on intelligence and military support from the SADF, as seen during the Bisho massacre of 1992,57 the TDF under Bantu Holomisa came to see the ANC as an ally—especially during the democratic transition.58

53 Sass, ‘The Union and South African Defence Force’, 123. 54 All four homelands experienced military coups of varying success, with corruption within the homeland administrations cited as a motivating factor, as well as political cleavages. 55 Padraig O’Malley, The Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Vol. 2, Chapter Five, ‘The Homelands from 1960 to 1990’, O’Malley Archives. https://omalley.nelsonmandela.org/ omalley/index.php/site/q/.../08lv02377.htm. Accessed 20 February 2019. 56 Philip Frankel, Marching to the Millennium: The Birth, Development and Transformation of the South African National Defence Force (Pretoria: South African Department of Defence Communications, 1998), 59. 57 At the time of the Bisho Massacre in 1992, Brigadier Marius Oelschig, a former SADF military intelligence officer, was seconded to the CDF. He was alleged to have been instructed to use all means to crush the ANC demonstration against military rule in the homeland. The SADF lent support to the CDF to halt an ANC march to campaign for political support in the Ciskei. This resulted in the deaths of 28 people and injuries to more than 200 protestors (see O’Malley, The Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, ‘Regional Profile Eastern Cape, the Bisho Massacre’, n.d.). 58 Sasha Gear, Now that the War is Over. Ex-Combatants’ Transition and the Question of Violence: A Literature Review, Violence and Transition series (Johannesburg: Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, 2002). 12 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation

During this period, the homeland armies became part of the National Security Management System (NSMS) to counter threats both outside and within the borders of the country.59 Under the direction of the State Security Council (SSC) and through the network of Joint Management Centres (JMCs), the NSMS could identify the sources of unrest and conflict and coordinate government departments below cabinet level to respond accordingly.60 Given the security threat facing the country, the SADF became central to state power and decision-making, leading to accusations that the SADF had become an alternative government.61 South Africa in effect became a praetorian state, with the military and civil bureaucracy at its centre dictat- ing the actual course of the regime.62 Civilian oversight of the SADF declined during the 1980s, which enabled the SADF to extend its operations into the domains of domestic counterinsurgency and policing, with the support of the National Intelligence Service (NIS).63 Extraordinary powers were given to the military to counter the tide of black resistance, including the intimidation, targeted arrests, pro- longed detentions, beating and torture and assassination of political opponents. A new culture took hold in the security forces, ‘one of no accountability and rules’, which seriously undermined the legitimacy of the SADF and fuelled both national and international opposition to the apartheid state.64

1.2 Period of Political Transition

Towards the end of the 1980s the winds of change were upon the country, given the rapidly changing international security environment. In 1988, the South African government, under a UN-brokered peace initiative, agreed to give up control of South West Africa on 21 March 1990, and the country (named Namibia) was granted independence. This led to the withdrawal of SADF, Cuban and Soviet forces from Angola. The independence of Namibia, alongside the end of the Cold War in 1989, created the climate for the political reform that was to follow. On 2 February 1990, President FW de Klerk announced the unbanning of the ANC and other political organisations, effectively paving the way for negotiations and a peaceful settlement

59 Davies and O’Meara, ‘Total Strategy in Southern Africa’, 183–211. 60 James Selfe, ‘The State Security Apparatus: Implications for Covert Operations’, in The Hidden Hand: Covert Operations in South Africa, eds. Anthony de V. Minnaar, Ian Liebenberg and Charl D. Schutte (Pretoria: HSRC Press, 1994), 103–112. 61 Sass, ‘The Union and South African Defence Force’, 129. 62 Philip Frankel, Pretoria’s Praetorians: Civil-military relations in South Africa (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 161. 63 Abel Esterhuyse, ‘Comparing Apples with Pears: The Pre-1994 and Post-1994 South African Military Cultures’, Journal for Contemporary History 37, no. 2 (2012): 228. 64 Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 249. 1.2 Period of Political Transition 13 in South Africa. However, this was by no means a peaceful time. During the transition leading up to the first democratic elections in April 1994, the country descended into a state of civil war in which more than 14,000 people lost their lives in political violence.65 A number of political organisations and social groups were responsible for this violence, including the ANC. Like the security forces, the ANC did not in fact cease its armed struggle in 1990. Both the ANC and South African Communist Party (SACP) continued to implement Operation Vula66 in order to launch a people’s war and to organise and arm self-defence units, which was partly a response to increasing attacks on the ANC by the self-protection units of Inkatha.67 In 1992, the increasing violence nearly derailed the fragile political negotiations when 300 men linked to Inkatha attacked the Boipatong informal settlement, near Vanderbijlpark, killing 46 residents and injuring many more. At the time there was speculation about a third force,68 involving elements of the security forces, who were supporting Inkatha in the hope that this would disrupt the negotiation process. An investigation by the Goldstone Commission confirmed these allegations, when evidence emerged that components of the police and SADF were involved in numerous acts of violence.69 Although this led to a purge of senior generals implicated in the violence, it seriously harmed trust relations and raised concerns that conservative elements in the SADF were bent on derailing the political process.70 Some claimed that there were allegedly ‘more than 50,000 white conservatives armed, organised and ready for war, with some units of the [SADF] poised to join them’.71 The ANC, PAC and the government had kept their military options open during the transition, but in reality MK and APLA72 were in a less powerful position than

65 Ellis, ‘The Historical Significance of South Africa’s Third Force’, 263. 66 Operation Vula ‘was established as an insurance policy, lest negotiations failed, and was intended to put high-ranking MK operatives into South Africa to move guerrilla war towards a ‘people’s war’ in which the forces on the ground were coordinated and aligned with the other strands of ANC strategy’ (see Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 276). 67 The Inkatha National Cultural Liberation Movement, generally referred to as Inkatha, was founded on 21 March 1975 at KwaNzimela, in northern KwaZulu. Inkatha emerged, along with the Black Consciousness Movement, to fill the vacuum in black politics caused by the banning of ANC and PAC. It was the precursor to the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP), formed in 1994. 68 The ‘Third Force’ was a term used by leaders of the ANC during the late 1980s and early 1990s to refer to a clandestine force believed to be responsible for a surge in violence in KwaZulu-Natal and townships around and south of the Witwatersrand (or Rand). For a detailed discussion, see Ellis, ‘The Historical Significance of South Africa’s Third Force’, 261–299. 69 Ellis, “Historical significance of SA’s Third Force”, 261. 70 Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 472–473. 71 Max Du Preez, Of Warriors, Lovers and Prophets: Unusual Stories from South Africa’s Past (Cape Town: Zebra Press, 2016), 229. 72 According to Houston, Plaatjie and April (2015) ‘APLA members had quite a diverse military training. During the 1970s and early 1980s, APLA cadres underwent training in Libya, Ghana, Guinea, Uganda, Nigeria, Egypt, Sudan, Lebanon, Syria, Yugoslavia, China and Kampuchea (present-day Cambodia). Libya specialised in providing basic training in infantry, while Guinea provided basic infantry training as well as specialisation in anti-aircraft measures and 14 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation the SADF. They lacked both military might and conventional training and needed to improve this if they were to play any significant role in the formation of the new post-apartheid military. To do so, recruitment was stepped up and some 8,000 to 10,000 MK soldiers were sent for training in Russia and India. Shaw73 claimed that MK trained more people for the new national defence force than it did for its guerrilla war. At the same time, there was an active attempt to recruit new members, raising the total to 23,000 by 1994, which later swelled to around 33,000 members.74 APLA figures were estimated to be around 6,000.75 In comparison, the SADF had a total of 67,500 active-duty forces and 360,000 in the citizen forces in 1993.76 Given this disparity, striking a compromise between the military and the new political order was central to the success of the transition. As Shaw77 states: ‘[W]hatever power the majority party might win in the constitutional negotiations would be worthless if it had to reside over a hostile and uncooperative military.’ At the time, the military in fact warned the politicians that they would have to move on the political front to ensure a peaceful settlement.78 By the end of 1992, following the revelations of the Goldstone Commission, the military indicated its willingness to accept a political settlement. The SADF took on a low political profile, adopting the stance that it was an apolitical force that would serve the government of the day.79 Yet it was only in 1993 that the SADF and MK, as the two major players, met in public together for the first time at a conference organised by the then Institute for Defence Policy (today the Institute for Security Studies). This set the tone for more formal discussions over command and control, armaments, integration and civil control of the military.80 Prior to this meeting, neither party had a vision of what the future military should look like, although the SADF was clear that it should be based on two fundamental principles: the retention of standards and the apolitical nature and character of the defence force. Adding to counterintelligence. Uganda provided basic infantry training, mines training and a commander’s course, while Nigeria provided an officer’s course and air force training. The remaining countries in the list above provided courses in infantry, guerrilla warfare, commando training, intelligence and security and other specialities. See Gregory Houston, Thami ka Plaatjie and Thozama April, ‘Military Training and Camps of the Pan Africanist Congress of South Africa, 1961–1981’, Historia 60, no. 1 (2015): 24–50. 73 Mark Shaw, ‘Biting the Bullet: Negotiating Democracy’s Defence’, in South African Review 7. The Small Miracle: South Africa’s Negotiated Settlement, eds. Steven Friedman and Doreen Atkinson (Johannesburg: Ravan Press, 1994), 232. 74 Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa, 277; Frankel, Marching to the Millennium, 63. 75 Frankel, Marching to the Millennium, 63. 76 Amy Truesdell, ‘Achieving Political Objectives: South African Defense Priorities from the Apartheid to the Post-Apartheid Era’, African Studies Review 52, no. 3 (2009): 107–125. 77 Shaw, ‘Biting the Bullet’, 228. 78 Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 248. 79 Anita Gossmann, ‘Lost In Transition: The South African Military and Counterinsurgency’, Small Wars and Insurgencies 19, no. 4 (2008): 547–547. 80 Frankel, Marching to the Millennium, 8. 1.3 Scope of the Book 15 this, members of the Military Research Group, which was advising MK, advocated strongly that the new defence force be legitimate, subservient to civil control and respect the principles of democracy.81 One of the key issues during the negotiations was how to integrate the seven disparate armed forces. This included the former statutory forces, namely, the SADF and the TBVC forces, and the two liberation or revolutionary forces, namely, MK and APLA (non-statutory forces). Each had their own command and force structures, capabilities, military culture and demographic composition and, not least, their own political loyalties. However, given the size, power and managerial capacity of the SADF, it was inevitable that it would absorb the other formations, no matter what the formal processes were.82 When the new SANDF was formed at midnight on 26 April 1994, it was in fact the SADF under a new name, but it was a military beleaguered by its past histories and by the many inherent challenges stemming from the new security and political environment. With the end of the Border War and apartheid after 1990, the military was no longer central to state power. Even if elements within the SADF considered the possibility of a military coup during the transition, they knew that ideologically, economically and politically the odds were against them. Added to this, the state had already started to curtail its military expenditure, which had dropped from a high of 4.3% of gross domestic product (GDP) in 1983/84 to 2.6% by 1993/94.83 The challenge now facing the military was essentially one of human-resource transformation and how to rationalise and downsize, as well as integrate, all the different military forces operating within the country into one cohesive professional force. The political transformation focused on how to ensure civilian control over the military and adherence to the imperatives spelled out in the Constitution of the Republic of South Africa (Act 108 of 1996, hereafter ‘Constitution’). This brought about changes in the cultural sphere in terms of organisational culture and the need to transform the organisational structures of the military to meet shifting mission priorities. This set the stage for radical defence transformation, with far-reaching implications for the nature and state of defence in democracy in the new South Africa.

1.3 Scope of the Book

To address all the issues confronting the military, or to afford them the same prominence, in a single volume would be a mammoth task. There are many aspects of defence reform and transformation that could have been included, or expanded upon, in this book. For example, aspects of foreign policy, defence strategy and policy, the armaments industry and professional military education have not been

81 Shaw, ‘Biting the Bullet’, 246–247. 82 Ibid., 247. 83 Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa, 269. 16 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation given the prominence they deserve. The effect of defence transformation on the different arms of service—South African Navy (SA Navy), South African Air Force (SAAF) or South African Military Health Services (SAMHS)—are not addressed here. Moreover, the book is biased towards the South African Army (SA Army) for two reasons: first, because it is the largest and most prominent arm of service; and, second, because most of my own empirical research referred to in this book has been on the SA Army. Although the different arms of service have their own specific challenges related to their unique roles and functions, many of the issues raised in this book in terms of defence transformation affect them equally. The book focuses primarily on much of my own empirical research and interest over the past 30 years in matters affecting the armed forces and society, presented as events have unfolded. As such, the book aims to make the content accessible to not only academics but also students, military practitioners, soldiers, politicians, policy-makers and the general public interested in the South African military. The aim is to straddle theory and practice, to capture the ‘lived experiences’ of soldiers, to critically reflect on the challenges of defence transformation and to point out lessons learned. Three objectives have been set. The first is to determine how the SANDF has adapted to the ‘new security environment’ in terms of its shift in mission focus from offensive missions to operations other than war, including peace operations. The second objective is to evaluate the effect the changed ‘political environment’ has had on civil-military relations. The third objective is to explore how the SANDF has adapted to the ‘new social and legal environment’ in terms of its human-resource policies and practices. The chapters of the book are structured according to these themes. Within each chapter, the various dimensions of defence transformation are captured, as changes in one sphere inevitably impact on the others in a way that cannot be clearly separated. In terms of the first theme, Chap. 2 provides a conceptual framework for the typical processes that armed forces undergo when the security environment changes and how this affects the organisational structure of the military. In many respects, South Africa confronted the same challenges as other Western countries in trying to find the right balance in terms of personnel, operations and capital expenditure. The difficulties of executing secondary tasks within the confines of being structured, trained, funded and deployed for its primary mission—warfare—are captured in the voices of soldiers deployed on peacekeeping missions. Related to the changed security environment, Chap. 3 describes the context and nature of the deployment on peacekeeping missions and discusses how the SANDF has sought to prepare and deploy its forces for an ever-widening spectrum of tasks. Based on interviews with soldiers, the chapter expands upon shortcomings in their training and education, difficulties in dealing with and interacting with other actors, the operational challenges they experience and the psychological stress of these missions. Often neglected in these debates is the other partner in defence—the military family. Included is a specific section on post-deployment reintegration and how this affects family stability and, ultimately, loyalty and commitment to the military. At this point, the focus moves to the political context. Chapter 4, on civil-military relations and the practice and implications of the civil-military gap, starts by outlin- 1.3 Scope of the Book 17 ing some theoretical contributions that inform our interpretation and evaluation of the state of civil-military relations in South Africa. The focus then moves to how civil control and oversight in South Africa are executed and the underlying principles, problems and challenges this evokes. The argument is made that one of the reasons why civil control has become problematical in South Africa is because civil society has become disengaged from the military. An ever-widening civil-military gap has developed, whereby fewer and fewer people are knowledgeable about military matters, consequently weakening civil control, oversight and accountability. Still in the political realm, Chap. 5 examines the process of integration and cultural transformation associated with the integration of the various armed forces and the implementation of affirmative action. The first section provides a brief overview of the nature of the armed forces that were integrated to form the SANDF, the different tensions that emerged and their implications. From here the discussion moves on to the effect of affirmative action and the ensuing debates around meritocracy. The final section argues that although the SANDF is a representative military, it has tended not to value diversity. Although there is a high degree of racial tolerance, not valuing diversity has affected recruitment, retention and, ultimately, military effectiveness. Somewhat outside of the SANDF, but intimately connected, is the politically sensitive issue of reintegrating military veterans back into society. Chapter 6 begins by providing context to the debate on military veterans and the typical challenges they face in settling back into civilian society. Focusing on South Africa, the first section examines why former military members, whether from the statutory or non- statutory revolutionary forces, typically experience difficulties reintegrating into civilian society. The discussion focuses on the effect of the ‘total institution’ on the ‘habitus’ of military veterans and the impact this has on economic and social reintegration. Thereafter, the focus shifts to military veterans in South Africa across the spectrum, including conscripts and those who have served under the Military Skills Development System (MSDS). The final section of the chapter examines the structures put in place to support and meet the needs of military veterans. Hereafter, the focus moves on to issues of human-resource transformation, influenced by the social and legal environment and the pressure on the SANDF to conform to the principles enshrined in the Bill of Rights in the Constitution. The first issue dealt with in Chap. 7 addresses the topic of gender integration and how the debates have shifted from inclusion to exclusion and the need to ‘re-gender’ the military. An overview of the affirmative-action policies is provided, with a discussion on how this translated into an increase in the number of women and a change in the gender/racial profile of the SANDF. Following this, the debates associated with gender integration are unpacked, namely, those related to gender equality and meritocracy, gender difference and valuing alternative values and gender mainstreaming and factors influencing the re-gendering of the military. Included are the experiences of women on peacekeeping missions and the effect the operational context has on their ability to make a unique or specific contribution towards peace and security, as espoused by the ideals of UN Security Council Resolution 1325. 18 1 Historical Overview: Transition and Transformation

Still on the topic of human resources, Chap. 8 focuses on HIV/AIDS, highlighting the threats HIV/AIDS has posed, providing an overview of how the disease is seen to erode organisational and operational capacity and effectiveness, and explain- ing how the SANDF has dealt with and prevented the spread of the disease. The debate then moves to the controversial issue of HIV testing and the legal cases that have obliged the SANDF to introduce a more nuanced approach to the management of HIV/AIDS. The final section reflects on these issues in relation to the deployment of HIV-positive members on peacekeeping operations, including the wider ramifications this holds for military families infected and affected by this disease. Chapter 9 debates the factors that have facilitated the emergence and institutionalisation of military unions. The chapter assesses the evolution of their relationship with the Department of Defence (DoD) and the SANDF and examines why, unlike other European countries, a distinct culture of confrontational pluralism emerged. The final section deliberates on how the SANDF has tried to parry the union challenge through the appointment of the Defence Force Service Commission, a revised grievance structure and Military Ombudsman. Finally, Chap. 10 offers some critical reflections on the issues raised in relation to the various dimensions of defence transformation. Chapter 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational Restructuring

The combination of a changed security and political environment had far-reaching implications for the South African military. Within a few years, from 1990 to 1994, the mission of the military changed from that of countering a communist threat and weakening the ability of neighbouring countries, to supporting the low-level insurgency campaign of the ANC, to that of a military literally in search of a mission.1 By 1994, both the domestic and geopolitical changes in southern Africa demanded a move away from the previous offensive posture and doctrine at the operational level to a defensive posture and strategy.2 With no conceivable prospect of a military threat, a total rethink of what constituted security and the military’s role and functions within a new political dispensation was necessary. The dilemma confronting the SANDF was how to configure its forces for its primary mission as defined in the new Constitution, namely, the defence against external aggression, knowing that it would most likely be deployed mostly in secondary roles, to promote security and support to the people of South Africa.3 Many other countries faced similar challenges in the post-Cold War era. As the security landscape changed, armed forces were required to deal with a wider spectrum of tasks, which required greater ability and adaptability. For many armed forces, this brought about a fundamental transformation in the organisational and human-resource structures of the military. Now they needed to be ‘equipped with the appropriate hardware, force structures and people policies enabled them to a respond swiftly, in collaboration with allies and/or friends bonded in coalitions of the willing, to a wide variety of crises whose precise nature is quite difficult to pre-

1 Jakkie Cilliers and Lindy Heinecken, ‘South Africa: Emerging from a Time Warp’, in The Postmodern Military, eds. Charles C. Moskos, John Allen Williams and David R. Segal (London: Oxford University Press, 1999), 242–264. 2 Abel Esterhuyse, ‘Getting the Job Done: Transformation in the South African Military’, Strategic Review for Southern Africa 32, no. 1 (2010): 4. 3 Republic of South Africa, The Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, Act 108 of 1996.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 19 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_2 20 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational… dict in advance’.4 This was far more complex than in the bipolar Cold War era where the tasks of the military were more clearly defined. Operating within greater budgetary constraints, armed forces faced two main challenges: first, the need to maintain a full range of military capabilities to respond to a wide range of crises; and, second, to have the ability to deploy rapidly on expeditionary missions far away from home.5 For countries expected to contribute to international peace and stability, this required quite a substantial organisational restructuring, especially where they were transi- tioning from a conscript to an all-volunteer force. The aim of this chapter is to discuss this changed security context and the ways armed forces have adapted to cope with the wide spectrum of tasks. Hereafter, the focus shifts to the challenges facing the SANDF in having to balance mission priorities and the stresses this has produced over time. The last section examines the complex issues of organisational transformation and issues of force design and structure, which lie at the crux of why the SANDF has not been able to sustain its operational capacity.

2.1 Changed Security Context

The end of the Cold War led to what many believed to be a more peaceful world. The so-called peace dividend justified cuts in defence spending and afforded governments the opportunity to channel state resources to more pressing social and welfare needs. Worldwide, this resulted in the downsizing of armed forces, reducing personnel numbers by approximately a third in many cases.6 Extensive cutbacks in defence budgets and military equipment followed as governments demobilised and rationalised the armed forces. South Africa was no different, as the processes of demobilisation and rationalisation came to be implemented almost immediately after the end of the Cold War and associated Border War. Yet, no sooner had armed forces downsized than a new wave of violence flared up in various parts of the world, posing new threats to global peace and security. The new forms of violence were different from before as the distinctions between war, organised crime and large-scale violations of human rights blurred.7 Dealing with these threats has been exceedingly difficult, as more often than not the root cause of the conflict lies in a combination of economic and social issues, such as poverty, competition for resources, displacement, ethnic stress, power struggles,

4 Christopher Dandeker, Simon Wessely, Amy Iversen and John Ross, Improving the Delivery of Cross Departmental Support and Services for Veterans, report by Department of War Studies, Kings College, University of London (2003), 405. 5 Ibid. 6 Fred Schreier and Marina Caparini, ‘Privatising Security: Law, Practice and Governance of Private Military and Security Companies’, DCAF Occasional Paper, no. 6 (2005): 3–4. 7 Mary Kaldor, New and Old Wars: Organized Violence in a Global Era (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1999). 2.1 Changed Security Context 21 greed, grievance and ideological motives.8 As armed forces continued to be structured, trained and equipped for conventional warfare, they struggled to respond to the widening range of tasks in the immediate aftermath of the Cold War. Consequently, the 1990s saw a series of bewildering reforms to improve the flexibility and adaptability of armed forces to deal with the new demands placed upon them.9 According to James Burk,10 the challenges facing most armed forces included: ‘The transition from mass armed forces, mobilised to fight particular wars, to smaller professional armed forces, which are continuously mobilised and possess multifaceted capabilities to respond quickly to a wide variety of threats.’ In terms of defence transformation, the organisational restructuring that followed typically involved several processes: downsizing; interservice integration; profes- sionalisation; the increased use of reservists, civilians and outsourcing; and multi- nationalisation.11 Downsizing aimed to streamline the organisation in terms of its shape and size by eliminating duplication and redundancies, as well as restructuring the various support branches. For the armed forces, this entailed reducing the struc- tural differentiation that had emerged over the years by merging interservice facilities to eliminate duplication and reducing the hierarchical rank structure. Typically, this involved restructuring the various personnel and support branches, as well as merging various interservice functions, such as service colleges and support bases of the different arms of service.12 Associated with this was a shift towards more modular, flexible force structures to allow for a kind of mix-and-match force pack- aging from all the different arms of service for specific missions.13 Whereas in the Cold War era the different arms of service maintained their own unique organisational culture and structure, what emerged in the post-Cold War period was a greater degree of interservice integration and the development of a joint organisational culture to encourage greater cooperation between the different services.14 Associated with this were changes in the force design and structure, especially in the shift from conscription to a professional all-volunteer force—as in South Africa. Here armed forces had to find ways to maintain both their numerical and functional flexibility, which conscript forces previously provided. In essence, one saw a move away from an organisation structured along Fordist lines (mass

8 Moten Bøås, ‘Terminology Associated with Political Violence and Asymmetric Warfare’, in Domestic Terrorism in Africa: Defining, Addressing and Understanding its Impact on Human Security, eds. Wafula Okumu and Anneli Botha (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2009). 9 Christopher Dandeker, Facing Uncertainty: Flexible Forces for the Twenty-First Century. (Karlstad: Klaria Tryckeri, 1999); Peter W. Singer, Corporate Warriors: The Rise of the Privatized Military Industry (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2007), 9. 10 James Burk, ‘Thinking Through the End of the Cold War’, in The Adaptive Military: Armed Forces in a Turbulent World, ed. James Burk (Piscatway: Transaction Publishers, 1998), 34. 11 Manigart, ‘Restructuring the Armed Forces’, 323–343. 12 Dandeker, Facing Uncertainty, 23–42. 13 Christopher Dandeker, ‘A Farewell to Arms?: The Military and the Nation-State in a Changing World’, in The Adaptive Military: Armed Forces in a Turbulent World, ed. James Burk (Piscatway: Transaction Publishers, 1998), 139–177. 14 Dandeker, Facing Uncertainty, 30–33; Manigart, ‘Restructuring the Armed Forces’, 329. 22 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational… army, single mission) to an organisation having to deal with niche wars, which required a more flexible post-Fordist structure (flexible force, diverse missions). With this came a restructuring of the military workforce along the lines of a specialist core, with part-time and outsourced components.15 At the core was a small full-time uniformed component, their activity directed towards military specific tasks—the core war force. This sector is typically classified as the military professionals, some of whom enjoy the benefits of a long-term career, with others employed on short- or medium-term contracts to ensure renewal. This restructuring was necessary, but could not support a large standing military. Supporting this segment are the specialists employed in administrative, logistical and support functions, who perform more routine activities and are often employed on long-term contracts within the military—the corporate force. One of the charac- teristics of post-Cold War armed forces is that civilians increasingly come to fill these support tasks, not only because they are cheaper to employ than highly and expensively trained military professionals but also because they often perform specialised tasks that require a degree of continuity.16 The third segment is the more indirect or part-time component, either deployed separately or integrated with the active full-time component. These reserves fulfil a vital role in the flexible force structure to augment the numerical capacity of the military.17 In terms of their employment, they serve as the temporary workforce, called upon only in times of operational need. As armed forces faced personnel shortages, they came to rely more and more on the civilian labour market and technology to augment their capacity. During the downsizing phase, many tasks were outsourced to the private sector. This took on various forms, such as privatising a specific military function, or awarding a fixed- term contract to a company to provide a specific service, or expecting in-house organisations to bid for services in the open market as service providers.18 Over time, this has been expanded to contracting private military and security companies to perform military-related activities, particularly in the sustainment and logistics environment. For major powers such as the United Kingdom (UK) and United States of America (USA), private security and military companies have become force multipliers, providing important services such as logistical support, weapons maintenance, sanitation and training.19 Finding the correct balance between full-

15 Anthony King, ‘The Post-Fordist Military’, Journal of Political and Military Sociology 34, no. 2 (2006): 360. 16 Christopher Dandeker, Martin Edmonds, James Higgs and Fiona Paton, Bett and Beyond: A Reaction, Response and Commentary (Lancaster: Centre for Defence and International Studies, 1997), 40. 17 Manigart, ‘Restructuring the Armed Forces’, 329. 18 Dandeker, Facing Uncertainty, 38. 19 Deborah Avant, ‘Private Security Companies’, New Political Economy 10, no. 1 (2005): 121–131. 2.2 South Africa: Shifting Mission Priorities 23 time military professionals, civilian specialists and reservists has been a major challenge facing armed forces in the post-Cold war era.20

2.2 South Africa: Shifting Mission Priorities

The above-mentioned processes affected the SANDF in similar, but different ways given the unique geopolitical and political situation it found itself in. During the transition to democracy (1990–1994), the future roles and functions of the military were heavily debated given the legacy of SADF.21 This had a profound influence on future defence policy and thinking in the post-Cold War period.22 At the time, anti- militarist academics pushed for a non-offensive defence posture.23 The Mandela administration was particularly keen to demilitarise society and withdraw the defence force from domestic employment.24 This suited the SADF during the transition as it wanted to reposition itself away from its counterinsurgency legacy to that of a conventional, professional force disengaged from domestic affairs.25 After much deliberation the tasks of the newly formed SANDF were defined in the Constitution as being ‘to defend and protect the Republic, its territorial integrity and its people in accordance with the Constitution and the principles of international law regulating the use of force’.26 Stemming from this, the White Paper on Defence (1996) and South African Defence Review (1998) came to define the defence posture, functions, tasks, force design and overall structure of the Department of Defence (DoD).27 Here it was

20 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Outsourcing Public Security: The Unforeseen Consequences for the Military Profession’, Armed Forces and Society 40, no.4 (2014): 625–646. 21 Mark Swilling and Mark Phillips, ‘State Power in the 1980s: From “Total Strategy” to “Counter- Revolutionary Warfare”’, in War and Society: The Militarisation of South Africa, eds. Jacklyn Cock and Laurie Nathan (Cape Town: David Philip, 1989), 134–148; James Selfe, ‘South Africa’s National Management System’, in War and Society: The Militarisation of South Africa, eds. Jacklyn Cock and Laurie Nathan (Cape Town: David Philip, 1989), 149–158. 22 Abel Esterhuyse, ‘Human Security and the Conceptualisation of South African Defence: Time for a Reappraisal’, Strategic Review for Southern Africa 38, no. 1 (2016): 33. 23 Laurie Nathan, The Changing of the Guard: Armed Forces and Defence Policy in a Democratic South Africa (Pretoria: HSRC Press, 1994), 76. 24 Esterhuyse, ‘Comparing Apples with Pears’, 231. 25 Esterhuyse, ‘Getting the Job Done’, 62. 26 Republic of South Africa, Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, Act 108 of 1996, Article 200(2), 113. 27 Ibid.; Republic of South Africa, White Paper on Defence (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 1996); Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 1998); Len le Roux, ‘The Revision of the South African Defence Review and International Trends in Forces Design: Implications for the SA Army’, in South African Army Vision 2020: Security Challenges Shaping the Future South African Army, ed. Len le Roux (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2007). 24 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational… made clear that the deployment of the military in internal security, policing and development roles was undesirable. The first and primary role of the SANDF was defined as defence against external aggression, and it was for this task that it would be funded, structured, trained and equipped. However, it was for its secondary function, ‘to defend and protect its people in accordance with the Constitution and principles of international law’, that the SANDF would be most operational. This lay at the heart of the challenges the military started to face in the post-apartheid era. At the time, Rocky Williams,28 himself a former member of MK, warned that this was ill conceived. He argued strongly that the SANDF did not have the budget, equipment nor personnel to support both primary and secondary functions, and that this would seriously undermine the capabilities of the military. This view was shunned as the military leadership and politicians were keen to position the military as a conventional force and to equip it for its primary role. Accordingly, the 1998 Defence Review led to a force design to repel external military threats, which in turn justified a major arms procurement package in order to equip the military for conventional roles. The Strategic Defence Package or the Strategic Defence Acquisition, popularly referred to as the ‘arms deal’,29 provided for the acquisition of weapon platforms for the SAAF and SA Navy. Included was the purchase of 24 fighter trainer aircraft, 28 fighter aircraft, 30 light utility helicopters, four corvettes (technically frigates) and three submarines. By 2008, the amount spent on the arms deal amounted to R43.09 billion,30 with some estimating the actual figure at closer to R72 billion. Besides the costs, the corruption associated with the arms deal continues to haunt the ANC to this present day and has seriously undermined the ability of the SANDF to perform its various functions given the impact on its operating budget.31 Differing prioritisation viewpoints within government and the DoD continue to result in efforts to maintain extensive capabilities for both primary and secondary missions. In 2002, the prioritisation of military tasks led to the adoption of a new military strategy configured around three main objectives. The first priority of the SANDF was supporting the people of South Africa, associated with tasks such as cooperation with the South African Police Service (SAPS), border control, disaster relief and humanitarian assistance and regional peacekeeping. The second priority focused on promoting security in the region, including a range of tasks from humanitarian assistance to peace enforcement. The third priority was defined as defence

28 Rocky Williams, ‘Against Meta Narratives? The Strengths and Weaknesses of Modernism and Contemporary Defence Thinking’, Strategic Review for Southern Africa 7, no. 2 (1998): 1–40. 29 The controversy around the arms deal, and the bribery and corruption associated with it, has led to widespread debate and distrust in government, which has also had a deep and lasting effect on the SANDF. It is beyond the scope of this chapter to discuss the arms deal in detail, but a good overview is provided in Paul Holden, The Arms Deal in Your Pocket (Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball Publishers, 2008). 30 Ibid., 15. 31 Evert Jordaan, ‘South African Defence Policy: The Rationale and Impact of the SANDF’s Primary Role and Conventional Force Design’, Defence Studies 18, no. 2 (2018): 188–206. 2.2 South Africa: Shifting Mission Priorities 25 against aggression, which included repelling a conventional threat and greater emphasis on international commitment to peace-support operations in the broader sense. The aim of this mission-based approach was to ensure that the SANDF spent its resources on those missions that make a strategic difference, allowing for a balance between the different capabilities.32 Initially, the SANDF was used most extensively in support of the police in an internal role, despite the policy that the military should disengage from a policing role. For example, in 1997 approximately 6,000 soldiers were deployed on a daily basis in cooperation with the police.33 For at least the first decade after the end of apartheid, the military remained active in border control operations, in combatting crime and violence within the country and in a wide range of disaster relief and humanitarian aid operations. In 2003, the government made the decision to withdraw the military from border control and hand this over to the police, but reinstated it again in 2009 albeit without funds or change in force design and structure.34 At the time, the intention was to effectively remove the military from all internal roles as mission priorities shifted to more diplomatic initiatives in Africa, regional security and peace missions.35 Slowly over time, the mission focus of the SANDF shifted to promoting security in terms of South Africa’s foreign policy goals, namely, regional peace-support operations, humanitarian aid missions and post-conflict reconstruction.36 Military courses started to devote more dedicated modules to peace-support operations, which had come to replace former modules on counterinsurgency. However, this still made up a small component of the education, training and development (ETD) of officers on the various staff courses.37 Nonetheless, there was a steady focus on preparation for peace missions. As early as 1997, South Africa had already begun participating in peacekeeping exercises, such as Blue Hungwe (Fish Eagle) in 1997 and later Blue Crane in 1999, together with other southern African countries.38 Besides these exercises, the SANDF experienced their first taste of what peacekeeping entails during Operation Boleas in 1998, a military intervention in Lesotho to restore law and order. The complexities of becoming involved in intrastate conflicts

32 Department of Defence, Safeguarding South Africa for a Better Life for All: Strategic Plan for FY2002/03 to 2004/05: 31 January. Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2002), 4–5. 33 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review. 34 DefenceWeb, ‘SANDF Cleared for Borderline Control’, DefenceWeb, 29 May 2009, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sandf-cleared-for-borderline-control/, accessed 27 August 2019. 35 Department of Defence, Defence in a Democracy: White Paper on National Defence for the Republic of South Africa (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 1996), 8. 36 Ibid. 37 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Preparing for Operations Other than War: How Equipped is the SANDF to Deal with Soft Missions’, Strategic Review for Southern Africa 24, no.1 (2002): 63–90. 38 Mark Malan, ‘Keeping the Peace in the Neighbourhood and Abroad: Lessons for South Africa from the Russian Experience?’, African Security Review 15, no. 4 (1998): 90–95; Theo Neethling, ‘Exercise Blue Crane: Forward with Peacekeeping in South Africa’, Issue Bulletin, no. 9 (1999); Heinecken, ‘Preparing for Operations Other than War’, 63–90. 26 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational… within a multinational context, and the dynamics of the military and political inter- face, was a steep learning curve for the SANDF.39 The serious deployment in peacekeeping operations followed the promulgation of the White Paper on South African Participation in International Peace Missions in 1999. In 2003, South Africa deployed troops on the African Union Mission in Burundi (AMIB) for a period of one year and in 2004 as part of the UN Operation in Burundi (ONUB). South Africa’s involvement in peace missions expanded with the deployment of South African peacekeepers as part of the United Nations Organization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUC) in 2003 and, later, more extensively as part of the United Nations Organization Stabilization Mission in the Congo (MONUSCO), where violent conflict and rape continue unabated, especially in the eastern part of the country.40 In Darfur/Sudan, South Africa deployed its first peacekeepers in 2004 as part of the African Union (AU) mission, AMIS, which ended in December 2007 and was replaced by the UN/AU mission in Darfur (UNAMID) in January 2008.41 A more controversial deployment was in 2014 to the Central African Republic (CAR), where the South African army was tasked with providing military training and disarming and reintegrating the Seleka rebels.42 The South African Navy has been extensively deployed to combat piracy in the Mozambique Channel since 2010 as part of Operation Copper.43 To date, the country has been involved in 14 peacekeeping missions with around 3,000 soldiers deployed at any one time.44 The SANDF has been hard pushed to sustain these deployments. The 1998 Defence Review envisaged the deployment of only one battalion for peace operations for 12 months.45 Yet, in reality, the SANDF has often had to deploy three battalions on an ongoing basis. This secondary task has become the primary task of the SANDF and has exposed how understaffed, underfunded and ill-equipped the SANDF is. In terms of operational support, the SANDF does not have the strategic airlift capacity to fly in reinforcements, to deploy combat vehicles, or fly helicopters for hot extraction.46 Yet, the SANDF

39 Neethling, ‘Exercise Blue Crane’. 40 Maria Eriksson-Baaz and Maria Stern, Sexual Violence as a Weapon of War? Perceptions, Prescriptions, Problems in the Congo and Beyond (London: Zed Books, 2013); Lindy Heinecken and Rialize Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace: South Africa’s Role in Peace Operations in Africa (part I)’, African Security Review 21, no. 2 (2012a): 20–35. 41 DefenceWeb, ‘Sudan Government Forced South African Withdrawal from UNAMID’, DefenceWeb, 13 May 2016, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/ sudan-government-forced-south-african-withdrawal-from-unamid/, accessed 13 August 2019. 42 DefenceWeb, ‘South African Soldier Killed in DRC Firefight’, DefenceWeb, 20 December 2016, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/diplomacy-a-peace/south-african-soldier-killed-in-drc-firefight/, accessed 13 August 2019. 43 Department of Defence, ‘Operation Copper: Maritime Security in the Mozambican Channel’, http://www.dod.mil.za/operations/international/operation_copper.htm, accessed 13 August 2019. 44 The details of these missions and the experiences of soldiers are discussed in more detail in Chap. 3. 45 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review, 21–24. 46 Helmoed-Römer Heitman, ‘South Africa’s Deployment to the CAR’, DefenceWeb, 9 January 2013. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/military-art-a-science/south-africas-deployment-to- the-car/, accessed 13 August 2019. 2.2 South Africa: Shifting Mission Priorities 27 remains under pressure from regional actors to help maintain peace and security in the region. In 2013, for example, the SANDF formed part of the Southern African Development Community (SADC) Force Intervention Brigade (FIB), which has operated in parallel with the existing MONUSCO mission to disarm rebel groups in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), with notable success.47 The requirement to contribute a battalion to the African Standby Force, although not yet realised, is an added responsibility that the SANDF faces.48 The ability to sustain these external deployments is a pressing concern given the increase in internal deployment of the SANDF in recent years. Border patrols have been transferred back to the military and around 15 companies are deployed on the borders to counter illegal migration—far short of the 22 required.49 Added to this, the SANDF is deployed to counter poaching nationwide, as well as in relief operations following national disasters.50 This has included the deployment of SANDF engineers to the Vaal River to identify and control sources of pollution.51 Added to this, there has been an increase in the deployment of the SANDF in law and order functions in support of the police, as part of Operation Fiela-Reclaim. This operation was launched in 2015 following a number of xenophobic attacks, but was extended in 2016 in an attempt to curb illegal weapons, drug dens, sexual offences and other illegal activities. More recently, the SANDF deployed to the Cape Flats in Cape Town to address the rising levels of gang-related crime and violence there.52 In an operation named

47 Thomas Mandrup, ‘An Uncertain Future: South Africa’s National Defence Force Caught Between Foreign-Policy Ambitions and Domestic Development’, Journal of Eastern African Studies 12, no. 1 (2018): 144. 48 Ndubuisi C. Ani, ‘Is the African Standby Force Any Closer to Being Deployed?’, ISS Today, 2 November 2018, https://issafrica.org/iss-today/is-the-african-standby-force-any-closer-to-being- deployed, accessed 13 August 2019. 49 Greg Mills, An Option of Difficulties? A 21st Century South African Defence Review, Discussion Paper, July 2011, The Brenthurst Foundation, http://www.thebrenthurstfoundation.org/workspace/ files/2011-07-south-african-defence-brenthurst-paper-.pdf, accessed 13 August 2019. 50 According to the 2017/18 Annual Report, SANDF forces deployed in the following four internal operations: Operation Prosper (support to government departments, mainly SAPS [i.e. safety and security support]) as and when required; Operation Chariot (disaster aid and relief [humanitarian assistance]) as and when required; Operation Arabella (search and rescue), as and when required; Operation Corona (border safeguarding); see Department of Defence, Department of Defence Annual Report 2017/18, http://pmg-assets.s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/2/Department_ of_Defence_AR_2017-18.pdf, accessed 13 August 2019. 51 Todd Johnson, ‘South Africa’s Military at a Crossroads’, Daily Maverick, 7 January 2019, https:// www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2019-01-07-south-africas-military-at-a-crossroads/, accessed 13 August 2019. 52 Rebecca Davis, ‘Army Deployed as Gang Violence Escalates to Unprecedented Levels and Residents Cry Out for Help’, Daily Maverick, 12 July 2019, https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/ article/2019-07-12-army-deployed-as-gang-violence-escalates-to-unprecedented-levels-and-residents-cry-out-for-help/, accessed 26 July 2019. 28 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational…

Prosper,53 more than 1300 troops were destined to be deployed, but in reality there were less than 300 troops on the ground, to cover 10 suburbs with over one million residents.54 While welcomed by local communities, the military has not been able to stem the violence, which is rooted in much deeper social problems.55 Some com- mentators even felt that that the deployment would make matters worse, as gangs would simply relocate to other areas, which could lead to a more extensive deployment of the military.56 But, clearly, as the internal vulnerabilities in the country increase, there will no doubt be growing demands for the military to deploy internally, to fill the ‘gap between police deficiencies and military capability’.57 In many other countries, this space is traditionally filled by a third constabulary, paramilitary or gendarmerie-type force more suited to such tasks. Internationally, such forces are widely used in internal security and peacekeeping operations due to their ability to deal with threats posed by armed groups and other forms of violence that the police are unable to deal with.58 In the absence of such a force, the responsibility inevitably falls on the military. However, with the SANDF’s current force design and structure, using the military continuously in internal roles simply accelerates a downward spiral of decline. The reality is that the ‘South African military is actually in no shape to be doing anything inside South Africa’s borders (or externally, for that matter)’.59 In terms of its actual capacity, the army has only 14 infantry units, of which ‘eight are motorised battalions, two mechanised battalions and only one light (internal security) battalion, one airborne, one assault battalion and one seaborne battalion’.60 Considering the military’s external and border control commitments, and the fact that the other

53 Thandiswa Mawu. ‘Army Deployed on Cape Flats Known as Operation Prosper.’ SABC News, 13 July 2019, http://www.sabcnews.com/sabcnews/army-deployment-in-cape-flats-known-as- operation-prosper/, accessed 26 July 2019. 54 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Soldiers Won’t Stem Gang Violence Because the Army is in a Sorry State’, The Conversation, 15 August, 2019, https://theconversation.com/soldiers-wont-stem-gang-violence-because-south-africas-army-is-in-a-sorry-state-121754, accessed 21 August 2019. 55 Shaun Shelly, ‘Bringing in the Army Turns People on the Cape Flats into Targets’, Daily Maverick, 23 July 2019, https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2019-07-23-bringing-in-the- army-turns-people-on-the-cape-flats-into-targets/, accessed 13 August 2019. 56 Simone Haysom and Mark Shaw, ‘Understanding Cape Town’s Gang Problem and Why a Military Crackdown Could Make Things Worse’. News24, 14 July 2019. https://www.news24. com/Columnists/GuestColumn/understanding-cape-towns-gang-problem-and-why-a-military- crackdown-could-make-things-worse-20190714. Accessed 27 July 2019. 57 Abel Esterhuyse, ‘The Domestic Employment of the Military in a Democratic South Africa: Time for a Debate’, African Security Review (forthcoming, 2019): 3–4. 58 Lindy Heinecken, ‘The Army is Being Used to Fight Cape Town’s Gangs: Why it is a Bad Idea’, The Conversation, 17 July 2019, https://theconversation.com/the-army-is-being-used-to-fight- cape-towns-gangs-why-its-a-bad-idea-120455, accessed 29 August 2019. 59 John Stupart, ‘Sending the Army to the Townships’, African Defence Review, 15 October 2017, https://www.africandefence.net/army-to-the-townships/, accessed 13 August 2019. 60 Ibid. 2.2 South Africa: Shifting Mission Priorities 29 battalions are in various stages of deployment, the SANDF is severely overstretched and unable to meet the demands placed upon it. For years, analysts have pointed out that the SANDF’s capacity is limited and that it is facing both human-resource and financial overstretch.61 This has led to a ‘disconnect between the defence mandate, government expectation and resource allocation that has eroded defence capabilities to the point where the defence force is unable to fully deliver on its constitutional responsibility to defend and protect South Africa and its people’.62 Placing additional stress on the military is its inability to maintain and renew equipment. Only two C-130 transport aircraft, only five of the 26 Gripen fighter jets and only 5 Hawk trainers (of 24) and less than a third of the 35 Oryx helicopters are operational. Similar problems are experienced in the SA Navy, with only one of the four frigates in service.63 The SA Army, likewise, is unable to service and replace the ageing Ratel fleet, which is exactly the sort of vehicle that is necessary for the type of operations the SANDF is involved in.64 These underlying stresses led to the conclusion in the 2015 Defence Review that [t]he Defence Force is in a critical state of decline, characterised by force imbalance between capabilities, block obsolescence and unaffordability of many of its operating systems, a disproportional tooth-to-tail ratio, the inability to meet current standing defence commitments and the lack of critical mobility. The current balance of expenditure between personnel, operating and capital is both severely disjointed and institutionally crippling.65 The SANDF is without doubt at a crossroads, where it faces a mismatch between means and ends in terms of commitments to protect the border, internal security deployments and African peace operations, as well as fiscal well-being.66 The 2015 Defence Review estimated that the ‘defence force was 24% underfunded in relation to its current force structure’.67 Ultimately this has been the consequence of an inap- propriate and unfeasible defence policy, force design and force development plan over the years.68 Hard choices need to be made in terms of mission priorities, force

61 Mills, An Option of Difficulties?, 19 62 Phillip de Wet, ‘From Bully Boys to Wimps: The Decline of SA’s Military’, Mail & Guardian, 4 May 2012, https://mg.co.za/article/2012-05-04-lack-of-funds-leaves-sa-vulnerable, accessed 13 August 2019. 63 Greg Mills, ‘The SANDF’s Real Challenge: It’s Become a Welfare not a Warfare Agency’, Daily Maverick, 30 January 2019, https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2019-01-30-the-sandfs-real- challenge-its-become-a-welfare-not-a-warfare-agency/, accessed 14 August 2019. 64 Johnson, ‘South Africa’s Military at a Crossroads’. 65 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review, vii. 66 Johnson, ‘South Africa’s Military at a Crossroads’. 67 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review. 68 According to an interview with an army colonel, a moratorium has been placed on changes to the force design and force structure, which means that there are no posts for critical positions such as data scientists, data analysts and cyber warriors in an era where artificial intelligence is critical in warfare. 30 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational… design and structure given the budgetary constraints and complex security environment of the future. According to the 2015 Defence Review69: The Defence Force will be required to conduct a wide range of multi-dimensional military operations across a spectrum of complex, highly fluid and often lethal situations characterised by a wide variety of threats. Operations in the face of political, ethnic, cultural, tribal, linguistic tensions will produce considerable human complexity. Future missions may range from non-combat operations (where the use of force will be absent or restricted to self-defence) to major combat operations with the implication of potentially lethal force. Based on this, in 2018 the SANDF stated that it would continue to supply only one infantry battalion to the DRC as part of MONUSCO, of which the bulk of the elements will be part of the FIB in the eastern DRC. Deployments to the UN/AU mission in Sudan are restricted to the deployment of military observers. Border security, both land and sea, has become a key task. Similarly, support for the police, especially in terms of violent social protests to ensure domestic peace and security, is an assigned responsibility. There is also the recognition that there is the need to develop a capacity to deal with cyber-attacks and the effects of climate change, which may require the SANDF to provide increasing humanitarian assistance and disaster relief.70 How the SANDF can honour these commitments is unclear given the diversity of tasks and lack of funding. Irrespective of the future level of funding, the challenge ahead is to reach the appropriate balance between personnel, operations and capital to provide a long-term credible and sustainable capability.

2.3 Organisational Restructuring

From the preceding discussion, it is clear that the military needs to adapt its organisational structure to meet shifting mission priorities. In many respects, the SANDF has mirrored the organisational transformation processes that have taken place within other Western armed forces, albeit with some crucial differences stemming from the political environment. Even before the formation of the SANDF, a process was under way to demobilise and disband those units no longer required. With the end of the Border War, military bases in Namibia were closed and, with the changed political environment, the COIN force was disbanded. This segment of the SADF was associated with abuses during the apartheid era and the new ANC-led government was keen to dispose of both these units and their personnel. Besides this, they no longer saw the need to retain this capability, as the SANDF wanted to position

69 Department of Defence, ‘South African National Defence Force Transformation Status’, briefing to the Joint Standing Committee on Defence, Cape Town, 21 May 2015, v. 70 DefenceWeb, ‘Feature: SANDF Outlines Threats, Priorities’, DefenceWeb, 12 June 2018, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/feature-sandf-outlines-threats-priorities/, accessed 13 August 2019. 2.3 Organisational Restructuring 31 itself as a professional conventional force with a non-threatening posture.71 Together with the disbanding of the territorial force, or commando rural defence system, in 2009, the SANDF eroded its COIN capacity. With political imperatives being more important than military needs, few at the time realised that these military skills would become the type sought after in the post-Cold War security context.72 In terms of downsizing and rightsizing, South Africa faced the dual challenge of moving from a conscript force to an all-volunteer force and at the same time integrating seven different armed forces, which swelled its ranks.73 As Seegers74 stated: ‘The SANDF had encountered two big problems simultaneously, integration and the desperate popular need for employment, in a local and international context unfavourable to large armies. It was—and remains—the cruellest of dilemmas.’ The anticipated number of people who were to be integrated initially stood at 129,000. Through a process of demobilisation and rationalisation, the SANDF managed to reduce force levels to 93,324 by 1998, with the aim of reaching around 70,000.75 Despite the fact that the 1998 Defence Review mentioned that these initiatives should not open up strategic gaps in the capabilities of the SANDF, little thought was given to this at the time.76 With government expenditure channelled to more pressing socio-economic concerns, the SANDF needed not only to cut personnel costs but also to become more ‘lean and mean’. As was the case in other countries, rightsizing was associated with greater interservice integration and ‘jointness’ in terms of management, logistics, command, support, training and deployment.77 A new integrated Defence Headquarters was created, with all the services amalgamated into one new top-level administrative structure. A Joint Operations Centre came to facilitate the conduct of military operations, with the four services providing and preparing the combat forces for that purpose. All posts that did not require military personnel were civilianised and those functions peripheral to the forces were outsourced. Added to this was the need to restructure the military from a conscript to an all- volunteer force. Again, similar to elsewhere, this was associated with having a smaller core force supported by civilians and a reliance on a large part-time reserve component to provide both numerical and functional flexibility. This necessitated an ‘up-or-out’ approach to the management of human resources, which led to the establishment of a new voluntary Flexible Service System (FSS). The FSS consisted of three different personnel components for the Full-Time Forces (FTF): the Long- Term Service System (LTS) was envisaged as supplying advanced functional and managerial skills to the top structure; the Medium-Term Service System (MTS)

71 Anita Gossmann, ‘Lost COIN: The Erosion of Counterinsurgency in the South African Army’, in South Africa and Contemporary Counterinsurgency: Roots, Practices and Prospects, eds. Deane- Peter Baker and Evert Jordaan (Cape Town: UCT Press, 2010), 136–151. 72 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review. 73 Roy Anderson, ‘Staffing and Training the SA Army of the Future’, African Security Review 6, no. 3 (1997): 59. 74 Seegers, The Military in the Making of Modern South Africa, 280. 75 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review, 70. 76 Ibid. 77 Department of Defence, Safeguarding South Africa for a Better Life for All, 6. 32 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational… aimed to supply middle management and serve as the feeder source for the management cadre in the LTS; and the Short-Term Service System (STS) was intended to provide combat and support forces.78 The idea was that the STS would provide the largest force component, in which personnel would be employed on a term contract of 2 years, up to a maximum of 6 years up to the age of 27. The aim of the FSS was to ensure a feeder of young personnel into the system, who would then transfer to the reserve force to enable the military to adjust rapidly in strength according to need. The intention was that this service system would allow more flexible staffing strategies in which force levels could be adjusted over a fairly short period, while ensuring a sufficiently large pool of trained people in the reserves.79 The planned personnel ratio was meant to be 40% STS, 40% MTS and 20% LTS. However, varied interpretation and implementation of the FSS led to the exact reverse, with 48% LTS, 39% MTS and 13% STS, with the result that 87% of members ended up in the medium- to extended-long-term tenure bracket.80 Much of this imbalance came about as a result of the integration process, whereby personnel from the former non-statutory forces assigned to the STS were transferred into the MTS and LTS without due consideration of their age or health profile.81 Accordingly, more STS and MTS personnel became employed on a permanent basis, without any associated career planning or force development strategy. In effect, this produced an ageing force, with the average private troop age being in the region of between 32 and 37 years, giving rise to problems of rank stagnation, poor discipline and low morale.82 A further consequence was that there was insufficient throughput of young fit personnel to the Part-Time Force (PTF) component. This meant that the one force concept envisaged with the FFS, of a small regular force and a large reserve, did not materialise. In 2003 the SANDF introduced a new recruitment and service system to tackle its manpower crisis by introducing the Military Skills Development System (MSDS). The MSDS was developed to achieve a number of broad objectives, the first being to guarantee a rapid throughput of young personnel to meet deployment contingencies that require an adequate number of young, fit and healthy personnel for the regular full-time forces. The second aim of the MSDS was to sustain the reserves with trained troops and junior leaders.83 As with the FSS, this Core Service System (CSS) intended that the MSDS comprise 40% of the force employed on STS, with the MTS middle management component making up 40% regulars and a senior career system (SCS) component of 20% regulars. The intention of this staged, contract-based system was to encourage an institutional culture and ethos in line

78 Department of Defence, White Paper on Defence and Defence Review, 117. 79 Anderson, ‘Staffing and Training the SA Army’, 59. 80 Department of Defence, Department of Defence Human Resource Strategy, 2003. 81 Department of Defence, Human Resources Strategy 2010, 14–15. 82 Helmoed-Römer Heitman, ‘SANDF Personnel Strength’, DefenceWeb, 23 April 2019, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/featured/sandf-personnel-strength/, accessed 21 August 2019. 83 Major-General Mulungisa Sitshongaye, ‘Briefing on the Military Skills Development System (MSDS) Intakes, CD HR Strategic Direction Policy and Plans’, 9 September 2016, http://pmg- assets.s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/160909briefing.pdf, Accessed 14 August 2019. 2.3 Organisational Restructuring 33 with international practice that ‘discards the cradle-to-grave unproductive employment ethos in favour of a more flexible system whereby personnel complete an optimal stint of military duty, followed by a meaningful career in civilian society’.84 The envisaged up-or-out personnel system, with appropriate exit mechanisms, was never achieved. The consequence was that the ideal ratio in terms of expenditure, of 40:30:30 for personnel, operating and capital expenditure, respectively, proved unattainable. By 2010/11, the ratio was 55:36:10, which in effect meant that there were no funds for the replacement of equipment, maintenance and infrastructure.85 By 2018, personnel expenditure had risen to 56.5%,86 which is set to increase to 58% in 2019/20 and 63% in 2012/22.87 This skewed the ideal ratio of 40% personnel, 30% capital and 30% operations, leading some to claim that the SANDF is no longer a warfare, but a welfare organisation.88 One of the major challenges now facing the SANDF is how to confront this massive expenditure on personnel. This ‘requires politically contentious decisions such as reducing the ranks of ageing soldiers and limiting the number of senior officer billets’.89 Numerous causes have been cited for this imbalance of expenditure on operating and capital costs. According to the 2015 Defence Review,90 there are six main causes for the escalation in personnel expenditure, namely, the increase in the level of tasks necessitating a higher personnel requirement; increases in labour costs; government requirements to fill vacant posts; the retention of people in posts who are no longer fit for their post profile91; the increase in improvements in pay and service conditions that were not budgeted for; and the effect of the strategic defence packages. What was not mentioned is the high ratio of general officers to other ranks,92 rank inflation and the inability to reduce the number of persons serving in the FTF through rationalisation and rightsizing the forces to meet strategic and political objectives. Another is the decline in the reserve forces, which were meant to provide the SANDF with the numerical and functional flexibility to meet shifting mission requirements.

84 Department of Defence, Human Resources Strategy 2010, 30. 85 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review, 9–7. 86 Reuters, ‘Defence Allocations from National Treasury for 2018/19 Down on Previous Year’, DefenceWeb, 22 February 2018, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/ defence-allocation-from-national-treasury-for-201819-down-on-previous-year/, accessed 14 August 2019. 87 Defence (Joint NA and NCOP) Committee, ‘Defence Joint Committee Legacy Report: Sector Analysis’, 23 August 2019, https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/28745/?via=homepage-card, accessed 28 August 2019. 88 Mills, ‘The SANDF’s Real Challenge’. 89 Johnson, ‘South Africa’s Military at a Crossroads’. 90 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review, 9–7. 91 The effect of HIV/AIDS on the SANDF is discussed in Chap. 8. 92 Helmoed-Römer Heitman, ‘Too Many Generals in the SANDF?’, DefenceWeb, 26 July 2019, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/military-art-a-science/too-many-generals-in-the-sandf/, accessed 21 August 2019. 34 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational…

Although the MSDS programme aimed to rejuvenate the reserve forces, this has not occurred and the average age of the Reserve Force is said to be 40 years.93 For the permanent force, the average age is reputedly 48 years.94 One factor contributing to this has been the small intake of MSDS members, which for the past 6 years has been around 3000 or less (the intended number was 8000). Most are absorbed into the regular permanent force, implying that few enter the part-time forces. The dilemma facing the SANDF is apparent when one considers the age profile of reserves, who make up 50% of deployments in South Africa.95 As with many other countries, the SANDF has faced many challenges in terms of recruitment, training and retention of the reserves, all of whom are volunteers. Much of this has to do with funding, where they consume just 6% of the total DoD human resource budget.96 These reserves are called up on various contracts depending on their speciali- sations, roles and demand, but for many troops this is their only form of employment. Attempts are now being made to see how to stream more people into the reserves, many of whom are currently deployed in an internal role for border protection, the success of which is in large part due to the contribution made by the reserves. In terms of numbers, about 15,000, out of a reserve force of merely 23,000, were called up.97 What added to the demise of the reserve force system was the decision to disband the commando system between 2003 and 2008. The commandos were mostly voluntary, part-time force components of the South African Army, responsible for the safeguarding of specific communities, mostly rural but also urban, in the support of the police. During the apartheid era, the commandos were used extensively in an internal role, and this made them controversial within the new political context. However, the move to disband the commandos has been severely criticised, especially by white farmers who have been the target of farm attacks and an increase in criminal activity.98 This is an unfortunate loss of reserve force capacity as the intention of the commandos was to provide rear-area defence in a range of functions, in order to free up permanent forces for other tasks.99

93 Sitshongaye, ‘Briefing on the Military Skills Development System’. 94 Mills, ‘The SANDF’s Real Challenge’. 95 Portfolio Committee on Defence and Military Veterans, ‘ATC161021: Budgetary Review and Recommendations Report of the Portfolio Committee on Defence and Military Veterans on the 2015/16 Annual Report Plan of the Department of Defence (DoD)’, 21 October 2016. https://pmg. org.za/tabled-committee-report/2842/. Accessed 14 August 2019. 96 DefenceWeb, ‘Reserve Force Revamp Coming’, DefenceWeb, 28 August 2018, https://www. defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/reserve-force-revamp-coming/, accessed 14 August 2019. 97 Roy C. Anderson, ‘SA, Look After Your Soldiers’, The Citizen, 10 May 2018, https://citizen. co.za/news/opinion/1921038/sa-look-after-your-soldiers/, accessed 14 August 2019. 98 Chitja Twala and Marietjie Oelofse, ‘Rural Safety and the Disbandment of the Commando Units in South Africa: A Challenge to Rural Communities and the African National Congress (ANC)?’, Studies of Tribes and Tribals 11, no. 1 (2013): 25–33. 99 Jonny Steinberg, ‘Assessing the Future of Rural Policing: The Impact of Closing the Commandos’, SA Crime Quarterly, no. 13 (September 2005): 1–5. https://www.sajs.co.za/index.php/sacq/article/ view/1011/766, accessed 14 August 2019. 2.3 Organisational Restructuring 35

Unlike other European countries, the SANDF has not contracted private military and security companies to augment its operational capacity. One reason is the cost of contracting such companies. The other is political and is due to the hostility of government towards the private ‘military’ sector that operates in countries affected by armed conflict, and to legislation preventing this. Another reason is that many of these private military contractors are former SADF members with COIN backgrounds. However, as the 2015 Defence Review100 indicates: Properly regulated private security companies may indeed have a force-multiplication value in certain situations. This may include theatres such as peace missions where, for example, civilian contractors may provide services such as logistical support, weapons maintenance, sanitation and even training to ex-combatants during their integration into national armed forces. Several South African private security and military companies continue to be contracted by foreign countries to operate in conflict zones, despite attempts by the South African government to prohibit or regulate this through the Regulation of Foreign Military Assistance Act (15 of 1998).101 What one then sees in terms of international comparison is that the SANDF has not had the same flexibility to adapt to shifting mission requirements due to its personnel structures, inability to enlist sufficient reserves and unwillingness or lack of capability to resort to the private sector as a force multiplier. In terms of force numbers, the 2015 Defence Review recommended that the SANDF consist of not more than 72,000 members, inclusive of regulars, reserves and defence civilians, in order to achieve and maintain the 40:30:30 ratio of personnel, operating and capital. With the defence budget for 2019/20 set at R50.513 billion, or 0.93% of GDP, this signifies a continued real reduction in budget allocation and regression over the course of time. Personnel costs consume an inordinate pro- portion of total expenditure, which is set to increase.102 To address this the SANDF may need to retrench in the region of 17,000 regular force personnel.103 A dire need exists to develop appropriate exit mechanisms at all levels, and not just to rely on natural attrition, to cut the ratio of generals to the field army and to restructure the military in line with operational realities. Although contentious, Mills104 points out that the ‘SANDF needs to admit its personnel problems, rightsize, professionalise and depoliticise.’ This suggests that the SANDF may be standing on the precipice of yet another major organisational transformation if it is to rejuvenate the military in terms of its real tasks, force design and structure.

100 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review, 2–12. 101 Ibid. 102 Defence (Joint NA and NCOP) Committee, ‘Defence Joint Committee Legacy Report: Sector Analysis’. 103 Sitshongaye, ‘Briefing on the Military Skills Development System’. 104 Mills, ‘The SANDF’s Real Challenge’. 36 2 The New Security Environment: Shifting Mission Priorities and Organisational…

2.4 Conclusion

Militaries from across the world have needed to adapt their forces to be able to deal with broader human security concerns, but armed forces are typically not the most suited to perform such tasks and certainly not on their own. South Africa, as a regional economic and military power, cannot afford not to be involved in trying to create peace and stability in the region. Preparing, equipping and deploying the military for these roles has become an increasingly difficult task, given the nature of these missions and the constraints it has faced. The nature of both internal and external deployments requires a different force design, structure and skills set. With inadequate funding for training, the SANDF has been unable to maintain and develop the needed capacity to conduct all these missions within the confines of its primary mission. Wrong choices in armaments and the scandal of the arms deal have harmed the military financially, functionally and in the public eye, in terms of future renewal of the military. This is most needed in terms of the land forces, which are still operating with equipment from the Border War. As the SANDF enters a new era in terms of defence reform, it will be hard- pressed to ask for more money for weapons and equipment. In terms of human- resource management in the broad sense, rising personnel costs, linked to the unwillingness and political sensitivity to cut personnel and address the imbalances in terms of rank inflation, have added to the paralysis. The challenge for defence planners is to convince the politicians to rectify this. The time has come for hard decisions to ensure that the limited funding is directed to the country’s real needs and interests, taking into consideration the inevitable role in ensuring peace, security and development in the region. All this has to take place against the background of other democratic imperatives, internal security threats, the high unemployment rate and difficulties in integrating soldiers back into civilian society. What the 2015 Defence Review has presented is a good overview to shape future defence reforms, but there are as yet no indications of what the future force design will be, given the changing mission priorities and financial constraints. Chapter 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations

During the apartheid era, South Africa’s defence policy was predominantly state- centric and focused on domestic and regional security threats. In the democratic era, defence policy changed and came to focus on human security and the security- development nexus, associated with a multidimensional approach to defence thinking, strategy and force design.1 The focus during the Mandela era was on the primary roles of the SANDF, in accordance with the three main strategic priorities, namely, defence against aggression, promoting security and supporting the people of South Africa.2 As the country eased into the Mbeki era (1999–2008) there was a shift in foreign policy towards a more Afrocentric agenda, which included the use of the military in multilateral peace missions.3 During this time, the SANDF started to be deployed on missions mandated by the United Nations (UN) and the African Union (AU). Over the years, the country has deployed to a number of countries, including Burundi, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Darfur/Sudan, Ivory Coast, Comoros and Liberia.4 On the African continent, South Africa has become a major troop-contributing country (TCC), ranking twenty-first in the UN and thirteenth in

1 Faith Mabera, ‘South Africa’s Profile as Peacekeeper: In Keeping with the Times’, African Security 11, no. 3 (2018): 224. 2 Francois Vreÿ, ‘Paradigm Shifts, South African Defence Policy and the South African National Defence Force: From Here to Where?’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 32, no. 2 (2004): 96–125. 3 The term ‘peace missions’ is used generically to include preventive diplomacy, peacemaking, peacekeeping, peace enforcement and peace building. The term ‘peace support operations’ refers to all military activities in support of peace missions; see Braam Rossouw, ‘A South African Perspective on the Place of Peace Support Operations Within Broader Peace Missions’, African Security Review 7, no. 1 (1998): 36–43. 4 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace: South Africa’s Role in Peace Operations in Africa (part III)’, African Security Review 21, no. 2 (2012; in three parts): 20–35.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 37 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_3 38 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations

Africa. Until recently (2017), almost 3000 members were deployed on various peacekeeping missions at any one time.5 As regional economic and military hegemon, the expectation that South Africa will become involved in securing peace and stability in the region is a given. Compared to other African armed forces, South Africa’s military capabilities are impressive, but have placed considerable strain on the SANDF.6 Geared for conventional or regular warfare, which entails state-on-state engagements using standard formations and doctrine, peacekeepers are often not equipped or trained to deal with the range of tasks required of them. These stretch from warfighting to preventing and defusing conflict, fostering cooperation among belligerents, protecting civilians, serving on humanitarian and disaster relief operations, repairing infrastructure and assisting in the implementation of political and security-sector reforms, which require a range of skills.7 Additionally, these tasks need to be performed in cooperation with other actors, including other TCCs, the national forces of the host country, humanitarian agencies, non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and local authorities, all with different backgrounds, cultures and modus operandi. These character- istics define most peace missions that are typically Joint, Interdepartmental, Interagency and Multinational (JI2M) operations. While the tasks and responsibilities of the SANDF are evident, it is worth asking whether the SANDF is adequately trained, equipped and funded to execute and sustain all these operational tasks.8 The deployment of the military in peacekeeping operations requires different skill sets, as soldiers are expected to help, protect and save vulnerable populations, rather than to fight. Added to this, as these missions take place within societies and among civilians, they require a different type of soldier, with a far greater understanding of the socio-political context of operations.9 Frost10 indicates that when the task of an organisation changes, so does the culture of that organisation and, ultimately, how it functions. For armed forces, this has meant that the ‘traditional aggressive, warrior-like culture has to be balanced with these new deployments in task requirements’, which require a more conciliatory approach to

5 DefenceWeb, ‘14 SA Peace Missions in 11 Years’, DefenceWeb, 27 August 2010, https://www. defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/14-sa-peace-missions-in-11-years/, accessed 15 August 2019. 6 Theo Neethling, ‘The South African Military and Peacekeeping’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 31, no. 1 (2003): 97. 7 Natascha Bruwer, ‘Military Psychology and Peacekeeping Operations’, in Military Psychology for Africa, ed. Gideon A.J. van Dyk (Stellenbosch: Sun Press, 2016), 66. 8 Laetitia Olivier, ‘Changing International Realities and the Configuration of the South African National Defence Forces in the 21st Century’ (PhD dissertation, Department of Political Studies and Governance, University of the Free State, January 2015). 9 Lindy Heinecken and Donna Winslow, ‘The Human Terrain: The Need for Cultural Intelligence’, in South Africa and Contemporary Counterinsurgency: Roots, Practices and Prospects, eds. Deane-Peter Baker and Evert Jordaan (Cape Town: UCT Press, 2010), 197–208. 10 Gerald Frost, ‘How to Destroy an Army: The Cultural Subversion of Britain’s Armed Forces’, in New People Strategies for the British Armed Forces, eds. Alex Alexandrou, Richard Bartle and Richard Homes (London: Frank Cass, 2001), 37 3.1 South Africa’s Deployment on Peace Missions 39 security.11 Given that armed forces, including the SANDF, continue to train for warfighting and down train for military OOTW, what challenges does participation in peace missions pose? To answer this, the first section of this chapter provides a brief overview of the deployment of the SANDF in various peace missions and the nature of these deployments. The second section touches on the preparation and training for such missions and the actual shortcomings soldiers experience in their training. The final section highlights both the operational and psychological stress that deployment on peace missions poses, both within and outside the mission context. Over the years, the SANDF has needed to adapt to all these pressures, affecting both the organisational culture and the functioning of the military within the current force design.

3.1 South Africa’s Deployment on Peace Missions

In October 1998, the South African cabinet approved the White Paper on South African Participation in International Peace Missions.12 The main missions where South Africa has deployed are Burundi, the DRC and Darfur/Sudan.13 The first major deployment was in October 2001 to Burundi following the conclusion of the Arusha Peace and Reconciliation Agreement. On this mission, between 600 and 700 South African peacekeepers were deployed.14 A humanitarian crisis developed as a result of the conflict between the Hutu and Tutsi rebel groups, causing a massive refugee crisis, disrupting the agriculture sector (the mainstay of the economy) and resulting in a crisis in food security.15 In response, the African Union Mission in Burundi (AMIB) was established in April 2003, with the objective of overseeing the implementation of the ceasefire agreement, supporting demobilisation, supervising disarmament and reintegration initiatives and creating the conditions to enable a follow-up UN peacekeeping force. A strength of 3335 military and civilian personnel were authorised for this mission, 1600 of whom were from South Africa, 858

11 Joseph Soeters, Donna J. Winslow and Alise Weibull, ‘Military Culture’, in Handbook of the Sociology of the Military, ed. Giuseppe Caforio (New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher, 2003), 252. 12 Department of Foreign Affairs. White Paper on South African Participation in International Peace Missions, 1999, https://www.gov.za/sites/default/files/gcis_document/201409/peacemis- sions1.pdf, accessed 1 September 2019. 13 This section of the chapter is drawn extensively from Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace’. 14 David Riley-Harris, ‘South African Peacekeeping, 1994–2012’, Military History Journal 16, no. 1 (June 2013), http://samilitaryhistory.org/vol161dr.html, accessed 15 August 2019. 15 Johnstone Oketch and Tara Polzer, ‘Conflict and Coffee in Burundi’, in Scarcity and Surfeit: The Ecology of Africa’s Conflicts, eds. Jeremy Lind and Kathryn Sturman (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2002), 102. 40 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations from Ethiopia and 228 from Mozambique.16 In terms of the South African deployment, Operation Fibre’s main task was to reintegrate and disarm 20,000 ex- combatants. However, problems with finance and logistics and resistance by the parties concerned placed serious constraints on the success of this mission.17 Nevertheless, AMIB laid the foundation for the establishment of a UN peace- enforcement mission. Subsequently, AMIB was turned into the UN mission ONUB in June 2004. Under a Chapter VII mandate, UN Security Council Resolution 1545, ONUB’s force levels were expanded,18 to include troops from no less than 41 countries.19 Yet, one of the insurgent groups, the National Liberation Forces (Forces nationales de libération, or FNL), continued to disrupt the peace process,20 which led to a follow-up mission by South Africa, Operation Curriculum, as part of the AU Special Task Force (AUSTF). When a settlement was finally reached with the FNL and the government of Burundi, South African troops were withdrawn, with only a small unit remaining to help the Burundians establish their own protection unit. South Africa started to withdraw from Burundi in December 2006, leaving only a VIP Protection Unit behind until 2008.21 The second major deployment was to the DRC, where various rebel and other regional armed forces were vying for power and control of the country’s mineral resources, inflicting extensive harm and misery on the civilian population. Close on four million people had died as indirect casualties of war by the mid-1990s, with an estimated 3.4 million internally displaced due to gross human rights violations, including widespread sexual violence.22 However, from this conflict a multilateral regional conflict evolved, drawing in numerous rebel groups and nine foreign states.23 By 1998, the Southern African Development Community (SADC) feared

16 Arvid Ekengard, The African Union Mission in Sudan (AMIS): Experiences and Lessons Learned (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency [FOI], 2008), 10. 17 Emma Svensson, Lessons Learned from the African Union’s First Peace Operation: The African Mission in Burundi (Stockholm: Swedish Defence Research Agency [FOI], 2008). 18 Major-General Derrick M. Mgwebi was force commander from 1 June to 31 December 2006. 19 The countries included Algeria, Bangladesh, Belgium, Benin, Bolivia, Burkina Faso, Chad, China, Egypt, Ethiopia, Gabon, Gambia, Ghana, Guatemala, Guinea, India, Jordan, Kenya, Kyrgyzstan, Malawi, Malaysia, Mali, Mozambique, Namibia, Nepal, Netherlands, Niger, Nigeria, Pakistan, Paraguay, Peru, Philippines, Portugal, Republic of Korea, Romania, Russia, Senegal, Serbia and Montenegro, South Africa, Spain, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Togo, Tunisia, Uruguay, Yemen and Zambia. There were also police personnel from Benin, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, Chad, Guinea, Madagascar, Mali, Niger, Nigeria, Senegal and Turkey. 20 Leon Engelbrecht, ‘SA Quietly Winds up Burundi Peace Mission’, DefenceWeb, 12 January 2010, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/diplomacy-a-peace/sa-quietly-winds-up-burundi- peace-mission/, accessed 15 August 2019. 21 Leon Engelbrecht, ‘Curriculum Complete: Nqakula’, DefenceWeb, 12 December 2008, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/diplomacy-a-peace/curriculum-complete-nqakula/, accessed 15 August 2019. 22 Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre, ‘Democratic Republic of the Congo: Worsening Humanitarian Crisis as Internal Displacement Escalates in the East’, report, 29 November 2007, https://www.refworld.org/pdfid/474fc61e2.pdf, accessed 25 July 2019. 23 Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, DRC, Angola, Central African Republic, Libya, Zimbabwe and Namibia 3.1 South Africa’s Deployment on Peace Missions 41 that this conflict would spill over to the entire region.24 Exacerbating the problem was the fact that the government forces, the Forces armeés de la République Démocratique du Congo (FARDC), became part of the problem instead of providing a solution.25 Within this context, the UN Security Council, following the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement in 1999, established the United Nations Organization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (MONUC). MONUC’s strength stood at 5537 military personnel, including up to 500 observers and civilian support staff in the areas of, among others, human rights, humanitarian affairs, public information, child protection, political affairs and medical and administrative support. In September 1999, under Operation Mistral, South African troops were deployed to monitor compliance with the ceasefire agreement and to facilitate dialogue between the various military forces.26 As with Burundi, the agreement was violated, and as the security situation deteriorated, the mandate of MONUC was expanded from a Chapter VII mandate, and in July 2010 MONUC was renamed the United Nations Organization Stabilization Mission in the Democratic Republic of Congo (MONUSCO) with the task of protecting civilians under imminent threat of physical violence. However, as the violence continued, in 2013 the UN Security Council authorised the deployment of an FIB within MONUSCO to carry out targeted offensive operations, with or without the Congolese national army, against armed groups that threatened peace in eastern DRC. The first FIB was composed of three battalions, one each from South Africa, Tanzania and Malawi. South Africa’s contribution by 2018 amounted to 1188 personnel, most of whom serve in the FIB.27 Besides Operation Mistral there are two other missions in the DRC. The force deployment for Operation Teutonic, which commenced in 2005, consists of a small contingent, tasked with reconstruction of the FARDC, integration of the various armed forces and security-sector reform. A further 11 personnel were assigned to Project Thebe to assist the FARDC with training three rapid reaction battalions.28 In total, 1300 personnel were deployed as part of MONUSCO, which placed the SANDF under severe pressure in terms of personnel and funding to sustain all three operations.29 Some of the challenges include ‘operational overstretch, lack of logistical support for deployed troops, shortfalls in human resources, poor discipline and

24 Celine Moyroud and John Katunga, ‘Coltan Exploitation in the Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo’, in Scarcity and Surfeit: The Ecology of Africa’s Conflicts, eds. Jeremy Lind and Kathryn Sturman (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2002), 164. 25 Alex Perry, ‘What Kind of Peace is There to Keep in Congo?’, Time, 24 November 2008. 26 United Nations (UN), ‘MONUC: United Nations Organization Stabilization Mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo’, 2010, https://peacekeeping.un.org/mission/past/monuc/, accessed 25 July 2019. 27 United Nations, ‘Summary of Contributions to UN Peacekeeping’, 28 February 2018, https:// peacekeeping.un.org/sites/default/files/3_country_and_mission_0.pdf, accessed 15 August 2019. 28 Engelbrecht, ‘SA Quietly Winds up Burundi Peace Mission’. 29 Dean Wingrin, ‘Defence Force Set to Recoup DRC Expenses’, DefenceWeb, 30 May 2017, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/defence-force-set-to-recoup- drc-expenses/, accessed 15 August 2019. 42 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations command and control issues, among others’.30 Deployment on these missions is not only difficult in terms of the operational challenges and terrain but is also dangerous, especially since the establishment of the FIB. Collectively, there have been 329 casualties during both MONUC (161) and MONUSCO (168), of which 24 have been South African soldiers as of February 2019.31 The third major deployment has been to Darfur/Sudan. Underlying this conflict, between the predominantly black, Christian South and the Arab, Muslim North, are a range of issues related to identity, resources and poor governance. The conflict in the western region of Darfur, ongoing since 2003, arose out of a long history of misgovernment and struggles over resources, mostly around issues of water.32 The crisis prompted the deployment of the African Union Mission in Sudan (AMIS) as a peacekeeping force in 2004. As part of AMIS the SANDF deployed eight military observers and seven staff officers under a limited mandate. This included the protection of military observers, escorting AMIS and humanitarian aid convoys, vehicle road patrols and protection of internally displaced persons (IDP) camps. Further tasks included liaison with parties involved in the conflict, the facilitation of meetings between them, the prevention of conflict and protection of civilians.33 The AU mission terminated in December 2007 when it was integrated into the United Nations mission, which in January 2008 was renamed the UN African Mission in Darfur (UNAMID). South Africa’s contribution to the AMIS/UNAMID mission, Operation Cordite (2004–2016), was to ensure the security and freedom of movement of personnel and humanitarian workers, to prevent the disruption of the Darfur peace process and to protect civilians. In this regard, the UN requested South African to supply at least one standard UN battalion-size force. However, challenges in terms of the infrastructure within the mission area made it difficult to meet this requirement,34 which was exacerbated by other factors such as the extreme weather conditions and effect on personnel and equipment, as well as cultural and language barriers. As most of the operations conducted were vehicle patrols, the lack of suitable vehicles and armoured personnel carriers made the South Africans soft targets.35 The fact that the Sudanese government did not allow South Africa to bring in heavy weapons to support the troops on the ground increased the vulnerability of peacekeepers to ambush and attack by militia rebel forces.36

30 Mabera, ‘South Africa’s Profile as Peacekeeper’, 231. 31 United Nations Peacekeeping, ‘Total Fatalities since 1948’, 31 July 2019, https://peacekeeping. un.org/en/fatalities, accessed 25 July 2019. 32 Alex de Waal, ‘The Wars of Sudan’, The Nation, 1 March 2007, https://www.thenation.com/ article/wars-sudan/, accessed 15 July 2019. 33 Ekengard, The African Union Mission in Sudan. 34 DefenceWeb, ‘14 SA Peace Missions’. 35 Johan Blaauw, ‘The SA Army’s Experience in Sudan’, African Armed Forces Journal (January 2009): 12. 36 Anonymous, ‘SA Peacekeeper Killed in Darfur Ambush Identified’,The Star, 19 October 2012, https://www.iol.co.za/the-star/sa-peacekeeper-killed-in-darfur-ambush-identified-1406457, accessed 25 July 2019. 3.1 South Africa’s Deployment on Peace Missions 43

The inability to support peacekeepers, and the hostility experienced from the Sudanese government, eventually resulted in President Jacob Zuma’s halting further deployments to the country in 2016. Zuma ordered the return of the approximately 800 infantry personnel deployed on the mission.37 As South Africa was preparing to withdraw the last of its equipment from the mission area, the last two remaining platoons came under attack in November 2018. Under the command of a female lieutenant, one of the ‘platoons were engaged in a battle with Arab militia, who were heavily armed with 12.7 mm Duska machine guns and AK-47 assault rifles. The platoon was able to maintain an effective rate of fire until the opposing force was overpowered,’ causing the militia to flee to higher ground.38 Incidents like this help to dismiss the claim that women are not able to withstand the pressure of combat, or to lead a combat engagement.39 By February 2019, AMIS/UNAMID fatalities totalled 270, of which 10 have been South African peacekeepers.40 Although not part of either a UN or AU mission, possibly one of the most controversial missions has been Operation Vimbezela, to the Central African Republic (CAR). The initial agreement was signed in 2007 and renewed in December 2012, with the following mandate: to continue with training capacity programmes to the armed forces of CAR; to exercise self-defence to protect and save human lives; to further send reinforcement to achieve the said mandate; to assist the government of the CAR with disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration (DDR) planning and implementation. The agreement did not include the protection of the president as part of the mandate.41 The SANDF deployment consisted of a small training team of 28 members divided between bases in Bangui and Bouar.42 In 2013 President Zuma made the decision, without any consultation with other levels of government, to deploy an additional 400 South African soldiers to the CAR, apparently to protect the two training teams. The ‘protection force’, comprised of a parachute combat team and Special Forces teams, including tactical and electronic intelligence teams, signallers and engineers, totalled 265 members. Their equipment included 12.7 mm heavy machine guns and 81 mm mortars, 4 × 4 vehicles and Hornet vehicles armed with machine guns and 107 mm multiple rocket launchers.43

37 DefenceWeb, ‘Sudan Government Forced South African Withdrawal from UNAMID.’ 38 Guy Martin, ‘Female SANDF Commander Leads Combat Engagement in Sudan’, DefenceWeb, 16 January 2016, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/female-sandf- commander-leads-combat-engagement-in-sudan/, accessed 15 August 2019. 39 The debates about the inclusion of women in the military and specifically within combat roles are discussed in Chap. 7. 40 United Nations Peacekeeping, ‘Total Fatalities since 1948’. 41 Department of Defence, ‘Operation Vimbezela: Department of Defence and South African National Defence Force Briefing’, 9 June 2017, https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/24570/, accessed 15 August 2019. 42 Helmoed-Römer Heitman, The Battle in Bangui: The Untold Inside Story (Johannesburg: Parktown Publishers, 2013). 43 Helmoed-Römer Heitman, ‘How Deadly CAR Battle Unfolded’, Sunday Independent, 31 March 2013, https://www.iol.co.za/sundayindependent/how-deadly-car-battle-unfolded-1493841, accessed 15 August 2019. 44 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations

At the time, the Seleka rebel alliance was marching towards Bangui with the intention of overthrowing the country’s president, François Bozizé. A deadly battle unfolded from 14 to 22 March 2013 when the base where the South African soldiers were stationed was attacked by a rebel force of 1000–1200 men, resulting in the deaths of 13 South African soldiers, with 27 wounded. In comparison, 500 rebels were killed in the battle before they eventually surrendered. While the South Africans were lauded for their bravery and ability to fight as a cohesive unit until the end of the ceasefire, this deployment drew ‘widespread backlash from the public when it emerged that the decision to deploy had been taken by the President against the advice of senior military and intelligence officials and without the approval of Parliament’.44 The deaths of these soldiers evoked outrage when it transpired that the deployment stemmed from the need to protect the economic interests of the ruling party, raising concerns over the use of the military as a foreign-policy instrument.45 Another important mission, although not a peacekeeping mission as such, is Operation Copper, an ongoing maritime security operation in the Mozambique Channel that began in 2010. The operation involves the deployment of SA Navy frigates and offshore patrol vessels (OPVs) off the coast of Mozambique in an anti-poaching role. The deployment included a C47TP maritime patrol aircraft provided by the SAAF, a Super Lynx maritime surveillance helicopter and 377 military personnel. The Mozambican navy provides support for Operation Copper in the form of divers and other logistical needs. South African frigates maintain a permanent presence in the northern Mozambique Channel on a rotational basis. As part of this operation, South Africa is also helping to strengthen the navies of neighbouring countries, such as Mozambique, in terms of training. The success of Operation Copper is evident in that there have been no further pirate attacks in southern African waters, the local fishing fleets are back at sea and tourism is flourishing again because of the increased security. The SADC countries are final- ising an agreement on how to prosecute pirates in order to have a collective maritime strategy for securing coastal waters in the region.46 Currently about 200 personnel are performing duties on Operation Copper, though this has been seriously affected by budgetary constraints.47

44 Mabera, ‘South Africa’s Profile as Peacekeeper’, 232. 45 Ibid. 46 Department of Defence, ‘Operation Copper’. 47 DefenceWeb, ‘Ramaphosa Approves Op Copper Extension’, DefenceWeb, 20 April 2018, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/security/maritime-security/ramaphosa-approves-op-copper-extension/, accessed 15 August 2019. 3.2 Training for Peacekeeping and the Experiences of Peacekeepers 45

3.2 Training for Peacekeeping and the Experiences of Peacekeepers

The extent of these deployments shows that the SANDF is involved in a range of peacekeeping tasks, from the classical to the more muscular forms. While the warrior spirit is excellent for preparing military personnel for combat and conventional warfare, the military training and culture that stems from this is not necessarily suited to the demands of new missions.48 Two questions therefore arise: first, how do soldiers adjust the culture of the warfighter to meet the needs of peacekeeping operations?; and, second, what additional problems arise when they confront new forms of muscular peacekeeping?49 Dandeker and Gow50 claim that peace-support missions challenge the professional military culture of soldiers as the focus shifts from warfighting to conflict prevention. This marks a shift from situations requiring the maximum force to those requiring the minimum use of force, which often makes it difficult for soldiers to adjust to peacekeeping operations. How they cope is influenced to a large extent by the training and pre-deployment preparation they receive. The following section provides an overview of the training and preparation for peace missions in the SANDF. In terms of background, preparation for peace operations commenced as early as 1997.51 From tactical to strategic levels, various courses and modules were adapted to educate, train and prepare military personnel for OOTW.52 For example, at the SA Army Battle School there are training programmes and exercises at the tactical level. The SA Army College has various peace-support exercises in both the Junior Command and Staff Duties courses and the Senior Command and Staff Duties course. There is also an exchange of personnel with other staff colleges in Africa, with a view to promoting greater regional cooperation in terms of peacekeeping training at command and staff levels.53 The SANDF also has a dedicated Peace Mission Training Centre (PMTC), linked to the ETD professional military education system.54 The PMTC offers at least 10 courses a year, with 40 students per course. ‘Modules covered include: DDR; peace relief and reconstruction; introduction to peace missions; gender advisors and instructors; peace mission staff officers;

48 Although some will argue that the Battle of Bangui illustrates that it remains important to first train for war and then down train for other missions; see Christopher Dandeker and James Gow, ‘Strategic Peacekeeping and Military Culture’, in Peace Operations Between War and Peace, 1st ed., ed. Erwin A. Schmidl (London: Frank Cass, 2000), 58–79. 49 Ibid., 59. 50 Ibid., 61. 51 Heinecken, ‘Preparing for Operations Other than War’, 63–90. 52 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Facing a Merciless Enemy: HIV/AIDS and the South African Armed Forces’, Armed Forces & Society 29, no. 2 (2003): 281–300. 53 Neethling, ‘The South African Military and Peacekeeping’, 102. 54 Daniel Hampton, Creating Sustainable Peacekeeping Capability in Africa, Africa Security Brief no. 27, 30 April 2014, 1–8, https://africacenter.org/publication/creating-sustainable-peacekeeping- capability-in-africa/, accessed 15 August 2019. 46 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations peace mission logistics officers course; negotiations; peace mission commanders and military observers. Advanced conferencing and simulation software allows participants to role-play scenarios and study lessons learnt during actual peacekeeping and peace support missions.’55 Additionally, there have been numerous field-training exercises to prepare for peace operations in the region. As indicated in Chap. 2, the first major peacekeeping exercise was Exercise Blue Hungwe (Fish Eagle) in Zimbabwe in 1997, involving the armed forces of eight southern African countries.56 This was repeated in the follow-up exercise, Blue Crane, at the SA Army Battle School in April 1999, where between 4000 and 5000 participants at any given time took part in an exercise that included several other role-players, including NGOs. The main aim of Exercise Blue Crane was to enhance peacekeeping capacity in southern Africa and to improve regional cooperation among SADC member countries. Every facet of command, control and operation was practised within a peace-support operations (PSO) scenario in which a ceasefire agreement had been reached between warring parties. This included exercises in the basic skills required for peace missions, humanitarian relief operations, planning and logistical support and the handling of the media.57 Numerous exercises have been held since to develop the skills and capabilities for peace missions. For example, Exercise Uhuru aimed to develop a better understanding of the JI2M environment and the challenges involved in the planning and coordination of such complex operations.58 Another is Exercise Young Eagle, designed to exercise and assess the SANDF’s airborne capacity and the African capacity for crisis response. Exercise Amani Africa II, involving more than 5000 soldiers from across the continent, aimed to develop the African Capacity for Immediate Response to Crises (ACIRC) Force as part of the African Standby Force (ASF). The ASF is an international, continental African multidisciplinary peacekeeping force with military, police and civilian contingents that act under the direction of the AU. More recently, SANDF and the United States took part in a bilateral peace-support exercise known as Exercise Shared Accord, with the focus on interoperability of the two countries for deployment on a peace-support operation under the UN Chapter VII mandate. The aim of this exercise, conducted every three years, is to share experiences from UN operations in the DRC, South Sudan, Iraq and Afghanistan, where peacekeepers are often involved in ambushes.59

55 Kim Helfrich, ‘SANDF’s Peace Mission Training Centre Enhancing African Peacekeeping’, DefenceWeb, 4 July 2013, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/ sandfs-peace-mission-training-centre-enhancing-african-peacekeeping/, accessed 15 August 2019. 56 Malan, ‘Keeping the Peace in the Neighbourhood’, 2. 57 Heinecken, ‘Preparing for Operations Other than War’, 63–90. 58 Ally Rakoma, ‘Combined Joint African Exercise (CJAX) 2012’, Department of Defence, 14 September 2012, http://www.dod.mil.za/news/2012/09/cjax.htm, accessed 15 August 2019. 59 Hopewell Radebe, ‘SA-US Team Up to Train SA Peacekeepers in Ambush Tactics’, News24, 25 July 2017, https://city-press.news24.com/News/sa-us-team-up-to-train-sa-peacekeepers-in- ambush-tactics-20170725, accessed 15 August 2019. 3.2 Training for Peacekeeping and the Experiences of Peacekeepers 47

These exercises and the deployment of peacekeepers on the continent over the past two decades have meant that the SANDF has gained considerable experience in peace-support operations. However, practising these military skills does not always prepare soldiers mentally for the realities on the ground. In terms of military skills, personnel interviewed stated that they knew what to do when under fire, how to negotiate, how to deal with accidents, how to handle opposing forces and how to deal with stressful situations.60 What was far more difficult, they expressed, was deciding on the appropriate action to take when engaging with the local population or actors, which entails an understanding of the ‘human terrain’. One aspect that emerged most frequently in interviews was the value and importance of cultural training in preventing problems on the ground and in gaining the confidence of the locals. The desire for even an elementary knowledge of local languages in order to ‘understand the people’, and of the local political situation, is vital.61 Interviews with officers who have served in Sudan reflect some of the shortcomings in their knowledge and readings of the human terrain, as they expressed the fact that that nobody explains that ‘the conflict in Darfur is political, ethnic and religious and how we are to interact with the different groups’.62 Especially for those deployed in Sudan, the cultural context was something they were not really mentally prepared for, even though they were aware of the racial, religious and gender issues. A corporal commented: The experience that I learnt mostly is the suffering of people in their own country. The problem is their religion. The other thing is race, they are all Arabs but there are those light- skinned Arabs that think they are superior. They react differently to black soldiers, they see themselves as bigger. For women, for them, hey, it is tough, they are doing everything, they work in the fields, they cook for their masters—the men—they must do everything. Gender equality will never happen there. Boys do nothing. The women give birth and the next day they must go to the fields.63 Of concern was the lack of understanding of not only the cultural context but also the gender dimensions of war and post-conflict reconstruction.64 There were fewer problems in the DRC, due mainly to the fact that some black South Africans speak Kiswahili. In Burundi, however, the population is mainly Francophone and the South African contingent made use of predominantly Tutsi translators. One Army officer felt that given the ethnic tensions that exist between Hutu and Tutsi, using Tutsi translators affected their credibility with the local population.65 Overall, the comments made by military personnel reveal three interrelated shortcomings in

60 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 61 Heinecken, ‘Preparing for Operations Other than War’, 63–90; Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 62 Interview with a former SANDF colonel deployed in Sudan, 25 September 2009. 63 Nina Wilén and Lindy Heinecken, ‘Peacekeeping Deployment Abroad and the Self-Perceptions of the Effect on Career Advancement, Status and Reintegration’, International Peacekeeping 24, no. 2 (2017): 246. 64 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution to Peacekeeping? The Rhetoric and the Reality’, Journal of International Peacekeeping 19, no. 4 (2015): 227–248. 65 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 48 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations terms of their military training for peace operations. First, there has been insufficient cultural training for troops, staff and commanders in preparation for such missions. Second, most military personnel lack the ability to analyse the cultural terrain and/or to incorporate cultural awareness into their operational planning.66 Third, and following on from the second, is the inability to use the cultural terrain to their advantage, which has meant that opportunities for intervention are often wasted, giving insurgents the advantage.67 One of the reasons for this shortcoming is that SANDF intelligence doctrine focuses too much on traditional adversaries in combat situations and not on issues of foreign culture that affect interaction with the local community and authorities.

3.3 Challenges of the JI2M Environment

Unlike conventional warfighting, peace operations take place within a complex multidimensional environment that involves a mixture of military and civilian agencies, including NGOs, the media and regional political organisations.68 Within a JI2M environment, the military needs to be more flexible and adaptable in order to foster effective working relations. Not surprisingly, some of the greatest difficulties soldiers experience is in their interaction with the civilian population, local authorities, local warring factions and NGOs. The difficulties in preparing peacekeepers for this are that such interaction differs from mission to mission. For example, in the DRC, where South Africans had some grasp of the local language, they were more welcome. In Burundi, relations were cordial but the use of Tutsi translators by the South Africans was cited as a reason why the Hutus were less hospitable. In Sudan, the relations with the local population, rebel forces and government were tenuous, therefore South Africans were viewed as intruders.69 Complexities and challenges become even more difficult when peacekeepers have to deal with, and obtain permission for activities from, local authorities. In all the missions that SANDF peacekeepers deployed on, interacting and dealing with local authorities affected the execution of their duties. In general, peacekeepers found local authorities hostile and uncooperative, often demanding favours, including bribery, to secure their cooperation. This was particularly the case when interacting with law-enforcement agencies. As peacekeepers were dependent on the cooperation of the police and other local authorities, this ‘local way of doing business’ was contrary to the military culture of command and control based on set rules and regulations. This was not limited to local authorities, but applied equally to

66 Heinecken and Winslow, ‘The Human Terrain’, 197–208. 67 Ben Connable, ‘All Our Eggs in a Broken Basket: How the Human Terrain System is Undermining Sustainable Military Competence’, Military Review (March–April 2009): 58. 68 Dandeker and Gow, ‘Strategic Peacekeeping and Military Culture’, 62. 69 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 3.3 Challenges of the JI2M Environment 49 interactions with host ‘national’ armed forces, other militias and rebel groups.70 South African peacekeepers report that in terms of their interaction with local national armed forces in both the DRC and Sudan, they often experienced the local national forces as undisciplined, disorganised, corrupt, unprofessional and unable to provide basic security. There was often a low level of trust, lack of cooperation and hostility/resentment towards the peacekeepers.71 One can see how this could produce tension, given that military culture is rooted in values such as loyalty, leadership, obedience, hierarchy and subordination.72 Other tensions stem from operating in a joint military environment in which peacekeepers have to function with other contingent forces, who have their own unique military culture and ways of operation. For example, in one UN mission SANDF members deployed alongside soldiers from Pakistan, Uruguay and Paraguay to provide humanitarian aid. Each national contingent followed their own protocol, which made interaction difficult, although ‘finger and body language worked’.73 Differences arise in terms of interoperability, communication, language, culture and religion and, not least, underlying power relations, all of which complicate these operations. For example, some peacekeepers found peacekeepers from the major powers (France, UK, etc.) to be domineering and arrogant, but found that they worked well with personnel from lesser powers, such as Sweden. There appeared to be some tension between peacekeepers coming from developing countries outside Africa, who were cited as being hostile, uncooperative or lazy. Even among the different African countries, a pecking order existed that affected relations and operations.74 Stresses associated with multinational, multiagency cooperative work, in which people are unfamiliar with the language and culture of others, were evident and confirmed by other studies conducted among South African peacekeepers.75 Last but by no means least are the difficulties that peacekeepers face in interacting with international NGOs and the press. NGOs have come to play a prevalent role in peace operations in the delivery of services, in facilitating the resolution of conflicts and even assisting in the implementation of UN mandates.76 The different objectives and perspectives of NGOs and the military, as well as the difference in

70 Ibid. 71 Blaauw, ‘The SA Army’s Experience in Sudan’, 10–13; Robert Feldman, ‘Problems Plaguing the African Union Peacekeeping Forces’, Defence and Security Analysis 24, no. 3 (2008): 267–279; Allan Mansaray, ‘AMIS in Dafur: Africa’s Litmus Test in Peacekeeping and Political Mediation’, African Security Review 18, no. 1 (2009): 35–48. 72 Talya Greene, Joshua Buckman, Christopher Dandeker and Neil Greenberg, ‘The Impact of Culture Clash on Deployed Troops’, Military Medicine 175, no. 12 (2010): 958–963. 73 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 74 Ibid. 75 Gideon van Dyk and René Koopman, ‘Peacekeeping Operation and Adjustment of Soldiers in Sudan’,’ African Journal on Conflict Resolution 12, no. 3 (29 October 2012), https://www.accord. org.za/ajcr-issues/%EF%BF%BCpeacekeeping-operations-and-adjustment-of-soldiers-in-sudan/, accessed 15 August 2019. 76 Francis K. Abiew and Tom Keeting, ‘NGOs and UN Peacekeeping Operations: Strange Bedfellows’, International Peacekeeping 6, no. 2 (1999): 89–111. 50 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations culture linked to their different roles and function, creates tensions in terms of planning and cooperation. A commander stated that one of the challenges is that these organisations are ‘not under their command, were independent, exercised their own autonomy and were uncontrollable’.77 Peacekeepers reported that they avoided interacting with NGOs because they found them frustrating to deal with, while the NGOs would become cooperative in situations where they depended on the military for support and security. Frustration often stems from the reluctance or lack of understanding on the part of NGOs of the importance of command and control in areas of deployment. However, this relationship was considered better than that with the press, which is regarded with disdain for reporting only the good news and not the bad and, in so doing, creating an inaccurate picture of missions.78 These comments are certainly not limited to the experiences of South African soldiers, and similar comments on the relationship of the military with NGOs and the press have been made by others.79 The tensions stem not only from their different tasks but also because of the authoritarian, often dominating conflict-management style of the military when dealing with NGOs. This comes back to the nature of military culture and to the need for peacekeepers to be trained in negotiations and to have a more cooperative rather than confrontational style when interacting with civilians. Not having these skills adds to the operational and psychological stress that soldiers experience when serving on these missions. Similarly, NGOs need to develop a greater understanding of military culture and its modus operandi, where interorganisational cooperation is essential to mission success.

3.4 Operational and Psychological Stress

For South African soldiers, the asymmetrical and hazardous nature of peace-support operations have brought home what it means to fight for peace in Africa. From the time of the peacekeepers’ arrival, they witness reckless abuse of weapons, destruction of infrastructure, absolute chaos, extreme poverty and hunger and immense situational uncertainty. If they were not prepared for this before the mission, these first impressions give them a sense of what to expect and why they are there. Seeing civilians harmed and villages destroyed and not being able to do anything is discom- forting. Standing by and not being able to defend innocent civilians or protect valu- able equipment seems senseless and the general feeling was that the rules of engagement (ROE) were often too restrictive.80 This confirms the general sentiment that peace enforcement on the ground is a lot more complex than doctrine implies, especially where it pertains to the right to use force within the confines of a given

77 Heinecken and Ferreira, “Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 46. 78 Ibid., 36–49. 79 Abiew and Keeting, ‘NGOs and UN Peacekeeping Operations’. 80 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 3.4 Operational and Psychological Stress 51 mandate.81 Often, this gives rise to role stress (fight-or-flight impulse), in which peacekeepers trained to use fire are prevented from doing so under peacekeeping directives.82 While most peacekeepers felt that their pre-deployment training prepared them for these missions, they experienced role ambiguity where they lacked certain skill sets when confronted with unusual hostile situations. Typical examples included training in terms of how to negotiate with rebels, as well as a greater understanding of the ‘human terrain’.83 Other forms of stress stemmed from organisational and task demands and the inadequacies in logistical support and equipment. Having to operate with outdated equipment unsuited to the terrain, weather conditions and poor infrastructure has put enormous strain on the already fragile logistic system and morale of peacekeepers. The difficulties in keeping equipment operational pose a major challenge. Blaauw84 and Vines85 indicate that the lack of sufficient and suitable equipment has affected the deployment and the capacity of South African personnel to operate in difficult environmental conditions. Numerous reports state that in general the equipment ‘is woefully inadequate for the tasks at hand’ and that belligerent forces are better armed.86 What this shows is that the force development strategy of the SANDF is inadequate in terms of equipment, logistical systems and personnel, primarily because it is structured and funded as a conventional force. As highlighted in Chap. 2, the SANDF is in a critical stage of decline in terms of its equipment and its ability to train and deploy soldiers. Being poorly equipped and supported, yet operating in harsh terrain, soldiers are placed under tremendous psychological stress. In this regard, the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations (UNDPKO) identifies three forms of stress: (1) basic stress associated with daily discomfort and fatigue; (2) cumulative stress emanating from the environment on a repeated basis; and (3) critical post-traumatic stress, beyond the range of normality, caused by extreme scenes of violence, loss of life, humanitarian disasters and so forth.87 Studies by Heinecken and Ferreira,88 Van Dyk and Koopman,89 and Buwer90 found that South Africans experienced all these different forms of

81 Jim Terrie, ‘The Use of Force in UN Peacekeeping: The Experience of MONUC’, African Security Review 18, no. 10 (2009): 21–34. 82 Bruwer, ‘Military Psychology and Peacekeeping Operations’, 48. 83 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part II)’, 36–49. 84 Blaauw, ‘The SA Army’s Experience in Sudan’, 10–13. 85 Alex Vines, ‘South Africa’s Politics of Peace and Security in Africa’, South African Journal of International Affairs 17, no. 1 (2010): 53–63. 86 Feldman, ‘Problems Plaguing the African Union Peacekeeping Forces’, 269. 87 Garren Mulloy, ‘Adapting Militaries to Peacekeeping and Policing Roles: The Effects of Peacekeeping on Militaries and the Stresses and Strains of Operations’, paper presented at the Second Annual Conference on Human Security, Terrorism and Organized Crime, Western Balkan Region, Sarajevo, 4–6 October 2007. 88 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘Fighting for Peace (part III)’, 50–60. 89 Van Dyk and Koopman, ‘Peacekeeping Operation and Adjustment’. 90 Bruwer, ‘Military Psychology and Peacekeeping Operations’. 52 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations stress. In terms of the first, limited recreational facilities, monotony, boredom, workload and lack of privacy were typical daily discomforts.91 Stress stemming from the environment was associated with witnessing extreme poverty, abuse of human rights and cruelty associated with immense violence. Although surprisingly few personnel reported suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), the evidence was clear in their discourse. They spoke of sleeplessness, anxiety, hypervigilance, social withdrawal and reclusive behaviour upon their return from deployment. The fact that PTSD was not openly discussed could mean that there is a stigma in reporting it, which makes interventions more difficult and can have long-term consequences for peacekeepers.92 Studies report that PTSD is one of the causes of relational breakdown and divorce in the post- deployment phase.93 These are among the many challenges typically associated with returning from peacekeeping missions.94 Peacekeepers mentioned that homecoming was both a joyful and stressful experience.95 Adjustment difficulties included having to renegotiate household roles, difficulty in communication and dealing with changes in relationships with children, partners and friends.96 In this regard, they spoke positively of the resilience training provided by the SANDF, as this made them aware of the challenges they would face when reintegrating back home, but they felt that their families were not prepared for their homecoming. Virtually all the soldiers expressed the need for greater institutional support for their families in order for them to have a better understanding of the nature of their mission and the challenges they face and to prepare them for reintegration. Finally, the lack of appreciation they felt from society and especially from politicians, who show little support and understanding of the difficulties soldiers face when deployed on peacekeeping missions, was experienced as demoralising.97

91 Ibid., 60. 92 Steven Danish and Bradley Antonides, ‘The Challenges of Reintegration for Service Members and their Families’, American Journal of Orthopsychiatry 83, no. 4 (2013): 550–558. 93 Ursula Bowling and Michelle Sherman, ‘Welcoming Them Home: Supporting Service Members and their Families in Navigating the Tasks of Reintegration’, Professional Psychology: Research and Practice 39, no. 4 (2008): 453. 94 Manon Andres and René Moelker, ‘There and Back Again: How Parental Experiences Affect Children’s Adjustments in the Course of Military Deployments’, Armed Forces and Society 37, no. 3 (2011): 418–447; Bradford Booth, Mady Segal and Bruce Bell, ‘What We Know About Army Families: 2007 Update’, 39, report prepared for the US Army Family and Morale, Welfare and Recreation Command by ICF International, 2007. 95 Elisa Bolton, Brett Litz, Michael Gleen, Susan Orisillo and Lizabeth Roemer, ‘The Impact of Homecoming Reception on the Adaptation of Peacekeepers Following Deployment’, Military Psychology 14, no. 3 (2002): 241–251; Leanne Knobloch and Jennifer Theiss, ‘An Actor-Partner Interdependence Model of Relational Turbulence: Cognitions and Emotions’, Journal of Social and Personal Relationships 27, no. 5 (2010): 595–619. 96 Booth et al., ‘What We Know About Army Families’, 43. 97 Lindy Heinecken and Nina Wilén, ‘No Place Like Home? Post-Deployment Reintegration Challenges Facing South African Peacekeepers’, paper presented at the ERGOMAS Conference, Lisbon, Portugal, 17–21 July 2019. 3.5 Conclusion 53

3.5 Conclusion

This chapter has provided some background on the nature of peacekeeping operations that South African soldiers have participated in. While their military training prepared them for these missions, they typically lacked the ‘softer’, more diplomatic skills and knowledge of the human terrain. How to negotiate, or, alternatively, how to apply force skilfully and purposefully to achieve ‘politically correct’ objectives posed a challenge. Trained to fight and with a military culture associated with aggression, they experienced the need to exercise restraint and negotiate their way out of difficult conditions as stressful. This has become particularly important when operating within a JI2M context, due to the challenges of language, interoperability, interpretation of instructions/mandates, rivalries and differences in service ethic among the different contingent forces. Accordingly, these missions are exceedingly complex, as soldiers on the ground cannot simply follow a specific set of tactical orders but need an understanding of the differences and broader strategic goals that influence decision-making. Added to this are the difficulties of coordination, as these missions involve interaction and cooperation with many different actors. Studies show that there should be ‘more training and education on individual service cultures, as well as other countries’ military cultures to improve cooperation and coordination during joint operations and working in multinational forces’.98 Associated with this is the need for greater knowledge of local cultures, which could help peacekeepers and commanders avoid offending non-combatants. With respect to the experiences of South African peacekeepers, this was one of their main shortcomings in terms of their preparation for peace missions. Many expressed the desire to have a greater understanding of the human terrain and an appreciation of the cultural differences that exist between them and the other actors they engage with in their daily work. This, together with the lack of diplomatic and negotiation skills, added to the psychological stress they experienced while on deployment. With this comes the need to better understand contextual factors that influence the soldier and mission performance. Mentally, peacekeepers found their deployments taxing not in terms of their training and preparation, but rather as a consequence of their inability to perform their tasks effectively due to unclear mandates, lack of logistical support and the need to operate with equipment that is not suited to the terrain, or that is obsolete or in disrepair. This added to their stress, especially when confronting rebel or hostile forces. In relation to this, the nature of the conflict and the atrocities they witnessed were often highly disturbing, especially in terms of human rights violations and brutality associated with the violence. They experienced different types of operational and psychological stress, typical of peacekeeping missions of this nature. Although few openly report suffering from PTSD, there is clear evidence of this in their discourse. This raises concerns about soldiers’

98 Greene et al., ‘Impact of Culture Clash on Deployed Troops’, 958. 54 3 Peace Missions: Preparing for and Deployment on Peacekeeping Operations unwillingness to talk about stress, to seek help and to access support structures, which inevitably affects post-deployment reintegration. Studies show that virtually all soldiers report some degree of mission stress that affects their ability to adapt in the post-deployment reintegration phase.99 While they felt prepared for the challenges of homecoming they deemed their families less so, which contributed to relational turbulence. Beyond the family, there was some disillusionment among peacekeepers that both society and politicians fail to recognise their worth and the sacrifices they make by putting their lives at risk on these missions. In this regard, Danish and Antonides100 assert that soldiers have a strong need for others to see their work as meaningful and important. Where this is lacking, it invariably influences morale, loyalty and commitment to deploy on peace missions on the African continent.

99 Danish and Antonides, 2013; K. Vitzthum, S. Mache, R. Joachim, D. Quarcoo and D Groneberg, ‘Psychotrauma and Effective Treatment of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in Soldiers and Peacekeepers’, Journal of Occupational Medicine and Toxicology 4, no. 21 (2009): 1–7. 100 Danish and Antonides, ‘The Challenges of Reintegration’, 552. Chapter 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society

Crucial to the successful transition to democracy in South Africa was the need to exercise control over the armed forces and to change the pattern of civil-military relations. Given the pivotal role of the military in upholding the apartheid regime, this was especially important.1 During apartheid, there was a lack of transparency, accountability and parliamentary oversight. As such, the military, as the ultimate guarantor of state security, had extensive powers that went largely unchecked by the executive, legislature and civil society.2 Violence became the acceptable solution to South Africa’s apartheid problems, both by the state and by those opposing it.3 In the process, the state and society became highly militarised and the influence of the military permeated everyday political, economic and social life.4 With the establishment of the new democratic government, the challenge was not only how to curb the political influence of the military in politics but also how to demilitarise society and establish acceptable limits on military activities and the use of force.5 A key priority was to institute mechanisms to prevent the military from interfering in domestic affairs, or from being used in roles not sanctioned by civilian authority. The Constitution provides clear guidelines in terms of the hierarchy of authority

1 Robert Griffiths, ‘South African Civil–Military Relations in Transition: Issues and Influences’, Armed Forces and Society 21, no. 3 (1995): 395. 2 Jabu Kuzwayo, ‘Developing Mechanisms for Civilian Oversight Over the Armed Forces’, African Security Review 7, no. 5 (1998): 56. 3 Noel Stott, From the SADF to the SANDF: Safeguarding South Africa for a Better Life for All?, Violence and Transition series (Johannesburg: Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, 2002). 4 Jacklyn Cock, Rethinking Militarism in Post-Apartheid South Africa, Crisis States Programme Working Paper series no. 1, Working Paper no. 43 (2004): 3–19, https://www.files.ethz.ch/ isn/57494/WP43.pdf, accessed 25 July 2019. 5 Griffiths, ‘South African Civil–Military Relations in Transition’, 395.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 55 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_4 56 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society and control and the separation of powers.6 The creation of a civilian Defence Secretariat, as well as various parliamentary defence oversight committees, helped to ensure greater transparency and accountability.7 However, while the mechanisms to ensure civil control were effective, over time the quality of civil control eroded as objective control (military professionalism) declined and subjective control (political interference) increased. Contributing to this was the progressive demilitarisation of society and widening civil-military gap, as civil society and the citizenry became disengaged from military affairs, thereby weakening civil control. The aim of this chapter is to discuss the political transformation of civil oversight and control of the military in the post-apartheid era. To place the discussion in context, the first section provides a brief theoretical prelude to civil-military relations and civil control. The second part outlines the mechanisms of civil control and the reasons why there has been an erosion of effective parliamentary oversight. In the final section, the focus shifts to the citizenry and the effect that demilitarisation and the widening civil-military gap has on civil-military relations and civil control.

4.1 Theories of Civil-Military Relations

Civil-military relations is a broad field concerned with the interrelationship between the military, political decision-makers and the host society.8 The debates focus on two broad areas, namely, political control over the institutional and operational use of the military and how to maintain a military that is apolitical to ensure that it does not intervene in domestic politics. At the heart of civil-military relations theory is civil control of the military. For civil control to be effective there needs to be a connection between the military elites, political elites and civil society, and an active involvement in debates that affect the functioning of the military, regulations for the military’s use, and on national defence policy. How best to achieve this has evoked considerable debate over the years,9 giving rise to numerous theoretical approaches to the study of civil-military relations and civil control. In South Africa, Samuel Huntington’s separation strategy influenced the approach to civil control of the military. Huntington10 put forward two models of civil control, namely, objective control to maximise military professionalism and subjective control to maximise civilian power of elected politicians. The aim of objective control

6 Frankel, Marching to the Millennium. 7 Len le Roux, ‘The Post-Apartheid South African Military: Transforming With the Nation’, in Revolutions and Evolutions: A Contemporary History of Militaries in Southern Africa, ed. Martin Rupiya (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2005), 234. 8 Nathan, The Changing of the Guard, 60. 9 James Burk, ‘Theories of Democratic Civil–Military Relations’, Armed Forces and Society 29, no. 1 (2002): 7. 10 Samuel Huntington, The Soldier and The State: The Theory and Politics of Civil–Military Relations (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1957), 80. 4.1 Theories of Civil-Military Relations 57 is to render the military apolitical by professionalising it to ensure that it acts in accordance with certain professional standards and obeys the legitimate government. Accordingly, the task of the military is to provide professional advice to elected civilian politicians, who either accept or reject this when it comes to the formulation of policies, the defence budget and the deployment of the military.11 In this way, the military remains subordinate to civilian political leadership and it ensures minimal intervention of politicians in military affairs. Subjective control favours civil authority and allows politicians and elected officials to exercise power over the military. This involves the distribution of power among civilian elites (politicians) rather than the civil authorities (parliamentary committees) and the military. Although this may appear to be good in terms of control of the military, it can be dangerous for society when a politician, dictator or ruler has extraordinary influence over the military—as was the case under apartheid. Ultimately, this can lead to the abuse of the military by a particular ruling party or leader and to the politicisation of the military, thereby affecting objective control.12 Where political elites influence the appointment of military elites, the autonomy and independence of the military are undermined.13 A reciprocal sense of loyalty emerges between military and political elites based on political loyalty rather than professional competence, expertise and experience, which challenges military professionalism.14 However, objective control can also be problematic where the military’s subculture is antithetical to democratic values and out of step with society.15 For this reason, Morris Janowitz16 argued that there must be a convergence between civilian and military values to ensure acceptance of democratic principles. Unlike Huntington’s separationist model, Janowitz placed more emphasis on the convergence of military and civilian values as a means to ensure civilian control. This, he claimed, would prevent the military from interfering in politics or staging a military coup. Furthermore, where the military deploys in constabulary roles, it becomes even more important that there is a coming together of military and civilian values. Expanding on the work of Janowitz, Rebecca Schiff’s17 concordance model of civil-military relations in turn emphasised the need for convergence not only in values but also between three key institutions—the military, the political

11 Colin S. Gray, ‘Irregular Warfare: One Nature, Many Characters’, Strategic Studies Quarterly 1, no. 2 (Winter 2007): 37, https://www.airuniversity.af.edu/Portals/10/SSQ/documents/Volume-01_ Issue-2/gray.pdf, accessed 20 August 2019. 12 A senior SANDF officer made the remark that ‘politicians of the ruling party have become arm- chair warriors in designer suits (Mbalula), while generals are lightweight politicians in uniform’. 13 Huntington, The Soldier and The State, 83. 14 Ibid., 70–78. 15 Alexander Lambert, Democratic Civilian Control of Armed Forces in the Post-Cold War Era (Berlin: LIT Verlag, 2009), 42. 16 Morris Janowitz, The Professional Soldier: A Social and Political Portrait (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1960), 420. 17 Rebecca Schiff, ‘Civil-Military Relations Reconsidered: A Theory of Concordance’, Armed Forces & Society 22, no. 1 (1995): 7–24. 58 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society elites and the citizenry. She claimed that stable civil-military relations and control of the military requires agreement among these institutions on four primary indica- tors: (1) the social composition of the officer corps and the need for the military to be representative of society to ensure that it acts impartially; (2) the process of political decision-making that regulates the role and utilisation of the military; (3) the system of military recruitment that best serves the interests of the state, the military and society; and (4) military style, which is how the different partners in society think about the military, its status and the symbols that distinguish it from society.18 What all this implies, then, is the need for a strong connection between the military and society. Where the citizenry becomes too distant or detached from the military, it may give rise to what has been termed a civil-military gap.19 This comes about through a lack of contact and understanding of the military and its professional obligations, requirements and need to be different. A civil-military gap inevitably affects civil control of the military, political decision-making, military functioning and, ultimately, recruitment.20 In addition, where the military becomes insular and isolated from society, it may give rise to a cultural gap whereby civilians have little appreciation of the military’s unique culture, norms and values and need to be different.21 Debates about the exact consequences of a civil-military gap have been the subject of much scholarly argument, but most scholars agree that where such a gap exists, it affects civil control, democratic oversight and civil-military relations more broadly.22 All of the theoretical perspectives described above are relevant to understanding civil-military relations and civil control of the military in post-apartheid South Africa.

4.2 Civil Control and Oversight

At this point, it is important to point out some of the salient features of civil control of the military during the apartheid era that promoted the revisions of political oversight mechanisms. This brief overview provides some context as to why the need existed to transform civil control and oversight of the military in South Africa.

18 Ibid. 19 Peter Feaver, ‘Civil-Military Relations’, Annual Review of Political Science no. 2 (1999): 211–241. 20 Richard Kohn, ‘How Democracies Control the Military’, Journal of Democracy 8, no. 4 (1997): 153. 21 Lindsay Cohn, The Evolution of the ‘Civil-Military Gap’ Debate, paper prepared for the TISS Project on the Gap between the Military and Civilian Society, 1999, http://static1.1.sqspcdn.com/ static/f/1472877/18563652/1338821276343/Cohn_Evolution+of+Gap+Debate+1999.pdf?token= ZXd3nSw9QsnvqUFv6HyHpgiw4yM%3D, accessed 20 August 2019. 22 Burk, ‘Theories of Democratic Civil–Military Relations’; Feaver, ‘Civil–Military Relations’, 211–241; Matthew Morgan, ‘Army Recruiting and the Civil–Military Gap’, Parameters: United States Army War College Quarterly 31, no. 2 (2001): 101–117. 4.3 Apartheid and Civil Control 59

4.3 Apartheid and Civil Control

A country’s military history influences the nature of civil-military relations and the extent of civil control by the state over the armed forces. When the UDF was established, the Defence Act of 1912 outlined two roles for the Houses of Parliament. Section 77(2) of the Act required, for example, that the Governor-General inform Parliament of the deployment of the UDF, while the Minister of Defence reported on the governance of the military.23 Following the outbreak of the First World War, this regulation saw robust debate on the deployment of the UDF but soon revealed flaws in the system, as the Prime Minister of the Union, General Jan Smuts, had already started to mobilise the UDF prior to obtaining parliamentary approval. Similar fault lines in terms of executive control occurred later with the mobilisation of the UDF in the Second World War, which took place without any oversight function by Parliament. At the time, in terms of its state of readiness, the UDF was ill- prepared to take part in a major conflict.24 When South Africa became a republic in 1961, the government rescinded the position of Defence Secretary as accounting officer and created a new structure of parliamentary oversight. Under the new dispensation, the Minister of Defence was responsible to Parliament, and the Chief of the Defence Force was the principle accounting officer, responsible to the Parliament’s Public Accounts Committee. The Defence Act (44 of 1957) provided the legal framework that regulated the UDF (renamed the South African Defence Force [SADF] in 1958) and civilian oversight.25 Civil control during this period was minimal for two reasons. First, as the security threats to the country increased, the military gained considerable leeway as the ‘protectors’ of the nation. Second, Members of Parliament (MPs) never developed an expertise in military matters and were for the most part content to accept the SADF’s assertions and explanations based on their military expertise and professionalism. In the absence of MPs’ expertise and a parliamentary support system for research, civil control of the military was minimal.26 Accordingly, the State President and the executive could authorise the use of the SADF in a range of roles, including: the suppression of terrorism; the prevention or suppression of internal disorder; the preservation of life, health and property; and the maintenance of essential services, including the maintenance of law and order and the prevention of crime in cooperation with the SAP. The right to mobilise the military for any one of these tasks occurred by proclamation in the Government

23 Wilhelm Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy: An Analysis of Parliamentary Oversight of the Military in South Africa since 1994’ (PhD dissertation, Faculty of Military Science, Stellenbosch University, 2019), 109. 24 Van der Waag, A Military History of Modern South Africa, 94. 25 James Ngculu, ‘The Role of the Parliamentary Defence Committees in Ensuring Effective Oversight: The South African Experience’, in Ourselves to Know: Civil Military Relations and Defence Transformation in Southern Africa, eds. R. Williams, G. Cawthra and D. Abrahams (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2003), 177–188. 26 Griffiths, ‘South African Civil–Military Relations’, 401. 60 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society

Gazette in a manner deemed expedient. The President could authorise the SADF to deploy without having to obtain specific authorisation from the legislature for every operation undertaken. Especially during the 1980s, the power to employ the military in the prevention of terrorism and internal disorder was wide-ranging and went largely unchecked by the executive, legislature and civil society.27 As the security threat increased, so a new culture took hold in the security forces, ‘one of no accountability and rules’.28 Civilian oversight of the SADF declined further with the implementation of an elaborate politico-security infrastructure, the National Security Management System (NSMS). At the top of the NSMS was the State Security Council (SSC), composed of the President as the chair and including an inner core of cabinet ministers and chiefs of the military, police and intelligence. The Ministry of Defence and the SADF controlled the SCC, and Parliament had virtually no oversight role. The NSMS reached some 500 regional districts and JMCs, mostly headed by military or police brigadiers.29 The JMCs ‘consisted of members from the SAP, SADF, local government officials, community councillors and other organisations such as churches and civil defence units. JMC officials also directed the activities of sub- JMCs, or sub-centres composed of officials from municipalities, police and the military in the area.’30 Through this system, a massive militarised bureaucracy evolved to manage security, intelligence and constitutional, social and economic issues at both national and local levels. As such, the NSMS became a vehicle for the intense militarisation of South African society, which placed the military at the centre of state power and decision- making, leading to accusations that the SADF was an alternative government.31 South Africa came to resemble a praetorian state, with the military intervening and dominating the political system, its structures and institutions and course of events in the country.32 Given the pivotal role the military played in upholding the apartheid regime, and the level of mistrust within society and associated human rights abuses, the challenge with the advent of democracy was not only how to curb the political influence of the military in politics but also how to demilitarise society and establish acceptable limits on military activities.33

27 Kuzwayo, ‘Developing Mechanisms for Civilian Oversight’, 56. 28 Welsh, The Rise and Fall of Apartheid, 249. 29 Davies and O’Meara, ‘Total Strategy in Southern Africa’, 183–211. 30 Stott, From the SADF to the SANDF, 10. 31 Sass, ‘The Union and the South African Defence Force’, 129. 32 Frankel, Pretoria’s Praetorians. 33 Griffiths, ‘South African Civil–Military Relations’, 395. 4.4 Civil Control and Oversight Mechanisms 61

4.4 Civil Control and Oversight Mechanisms

The 1996 Constitution sought to entrench civil control of the military in sections 201 and 202 and provided clear guidelines in terms of the hierarchy of authority and control and the separation of powers.34 The Chief of the SANDF’s power became limited to the command of the military under direction of the Minister of Defence in times of peace, and of the President during a state of national defence. The minister in turn became accountable to Parliament and the cabinet for the SANDF. A civilian Defence Secretariat was created, with the mandate to formulate policies, programmes and budgets, and to control the execution of the mandate of the Defence Force. The Secretary of Defence came to assume the role of administrative head and accounting officer, as well as being the principal departmental adviser to the minister with regard to defence policy matters within the DoD. The responsibility of the Chief of the SANDF was limited to the efficient management, command and administration of the SANDF and its operations.35 Premised on Huntington’s principle of objective control, the aim of this division of responsibility sought to ensure that the Chief of the Defence Force was responsible for the functioning and professionalism of the Defence Force, subject to the oversight and control of civilian authorities. As such, a balanced model of civilian control was introduced, whereby professional officers who are expert in the management of violence, and civilians who are sufficiently knowledgeable in military matters, work together to formulate defence policy.36 Outside the DoD, these processes are subject to political or democratic oversight and executive control through two key parliamentary committees. The Joint Standing Committee on Defence (JSCD) was established to investigate and make ‘recommendations on the budget, functioning, organisation, armaments, policy, morale and state of preparedness of the Defence Force, and to perform functions relating to parliamentary supervision of the Force as may be prescribed by law’.37 Consisting of representatives of both the National Assembly and the National Council of Provinces, the JSCD deals with classified and sensitive information from the military that can affect national security and keeps the executive authority (Minister of Defence) accountable to Parliament. The JSCD in the immediate post-1994 era devoted much of its time to the integration process, the White Paper on Defence (1996), the South African Defence Review (1998) and the Strategic Defence Procurement Package (SDPP) to equip the SAAF and SA Navy. Although other parliamentary bodies share in overseeing the acquisition process, the JSCD plays the main oversight role in this regard.

34 Frankel, Marching to the Millennium. 35 Gavin Cawthra, ‘Security Governance in South Africa’, African Security Review 14, no. 3 (2005): 95–105. 36 Kohn, ‘How Democracies Control the Military’, 147. 37 Republic of South Africa, White Paper on Defence [1996], 10–11. 62 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society

In the first decade of democracy, the JSCD was very active and vigilant, refusing to rubber-stamp the SANDF’s demands, despite having little experience or knowledge of conventional defence doctrine, operational concepts, composition of forces or supportive defence tasks.38 However, since 2009 the JSCD has met less frequently, with some claiming that it has failed to address issues related to defence procurement, defence policy, defence deployments and human resources.39 Many have criticised the committee for its lack of oversight of the SDPP in terms of the relevance of the equipment procured and the associated cost and corruption, which placed its effectiveness in doubt in terms of the ability to conduct robust oversight.40 Further criticism relates to the lack of oversight of deployments, which require parliamentary approval and briefings by the DoD. Here the lack of oversight in terms of the controversial deployment to the CAR, as well as the deployment of the military in policing functions, have raised alarm.41 Similar criticisms have been levelled against the JSCD for its lack of engagement with the 2015 defence review process, which fell squarely within its mandate.42 In contrast, the Portfolio Committee on Defence and Military Veterans (PCDMV)43 has been more active than the JSCD over the past decade. The PCDMV is a committee of the National Assembly representing all parties in the legislature. It is empowered to deal with legislation tabled in Parliament and plays a general oversight role over the structure, functioning and policy of the DoD. Some overlap exists between the JSCD and PCDMV. However, the JSCD is largely responsible for higher-order defence issues, such as the defence budget, defence policy, defence procurement, human resources and deployments. The PCDMV has tended to focus on issues pertaining to the annual and quarterly performance of the DoD, interdepartmental cooperation, military training and education, gender and racial equality, defence morale and defence infrastructure. As the PCDMV has been more active, it has played a more influential oversight role, though this has declined since 2004, generally associated with a perceived reduction in the political will to ensure effective oversight.44 Although legislation compels the DoD to submit quarterly and annual reports on aspects of its performance and budgetary matters, robust debate on defence matters has declined. The decline in regular meetings of the parliamentary oversight committees, and the lim-

38 Rocky Williams, ‘Reallocating Defence Expenditures for Development: The South African Experience’, African Security Review 7, no. 2 (1998), 33–47. 39 Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’, 185. 40 Rialize Ferreira and Ian Liebenberg, ‘Civil-Military Relations and Arms Procurement in South Africa: 1994–2002’, Society in Transition 35, no. 1 (2004): 61–86. 41 Jane Duncan, The Rise of the Securocrats: The Case of South Africa (Johannesburg: Jacana Media, 2014), 104. 42 Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’, 207. 43 Formally renamed the Portfolio Committee on Defence and Veterans Affairs in 2011, when the Department of Defence was renamed the Department of Defence and Veterans Affairs. 44 See Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’, for a thorough analysis of trends in the activity of the various committees, issues addressed and levels of oversight. 4.5 Erosion of Civil Control and Oversight 63 ited time afforded to defence-related debates in Parliament under the Zuma administration, attest to this. There has also been an unwillingness to hold the executive to account and for the DoD to respond to questions raised. At the same time, there is a lack of critical engagement from civil society in defence matters. All of this detracts from the notion of effective oversight and of reaching what Schiff calls ‘concordance’ on defence matters between the military, political elites and citizenry.45 Besides these oversight committees, there are other departments that exert an influence over defence matters. The National Treasury determines what portion of the national budget is allocated to defence, based on national priorities and the policies, plans and needs of the Defence Force. In turn, external auditing of the DoD is carried out by the Auditor-General, who reports to Parliament’s Standing Committee on Public Accounts (SCOPA). SCOPA assesses the efficiency and effectiveness of state finances and checks whether the DoD’s expenditure is in line with its budget. In addition, the PCDMV reviews the budget of the DoD annually, and holds budgetary hearings preceding the budget debate. The PCDMV thus tries to ensure an align- ment of planning and budgetary priorities. However, the actual allocation between personnel, capital expenditure and operations rests with the DoD. Mention needs to be made at this point of the intelligence function. The principles of civil-military relations and parliamentary oversight of defence have special reference to Defence Intelligence. Prior to 1994, Military Intelligence was the dominant agency and carried out many non-military covert operations. This is no longer the case and there has been a substantial restructuring of intelligence governance.46 A growing concern is the influence of the intelligence agencies and the effect on access to information through the state bureaucracy.47 The implication is that less information is in the public domain, which undermines informed debate, oversight and accountability.48

4.5 Erosion of Civil Control and Oversight

While all the mechanisms are in place to ensure objective control, elements of subjective control bedevil and affect civil control of the military in South Africa. According to Born,49 the first indication of this is where ‘political leaders try to control the armed forces by appointing high-ranking generals who are political friends to the political party in power’. The criteria for such appointments is not

45 Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’, 230–224. 46 Ngculu, ‘The Role of the Parliamentary Defence Committees’, 177–188. 47 Jane Duncan, ‘Voice, Political Mobilization and Repression Under Jacob Zuma’, in Contesting Transformation: Popular Resistance in Twenty-First-Century South Africa, eds. Marcelle C. Dawson and Luke Sinwell (London: Pluto Press 2012), 44–62. 48 Duncan, The Rise of the Securocrats, 117–118. 49 Hans Born, ‘Democratic Control of Armed Forces’, in Handbook of the Sociology of the Military, ed. Giuseppe Caforio (New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher, 2003), 155. 64 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society military professionalism but political loyalty. This corrupts the professional quality of the armed forces and facilitates the infiltration of the governing party in the armed forces, subjecting it to political manipulation and abuse. In South Africa, many senior officers above brigadier level and all the chiefs of services have close relations with the ruling ANC.50 While MK has dominated the leadership of the SANDF for some time, this became more pronounced under the Zuma administration.51 When officers are promoted based on political allegiance rather than competency, skills and expertise, it undermines military effectiveness and objective control.52 Former MK generals find it difficult to stand up to politicians and to inform them of the true state of affairs, and are afraid to speak out due to the consequences this may hold for their own careers.53 This resonates with the point made by Schiff54 that the composition of the military leadership is important for civil control to ensure that the military remains apolitical and removed from domestic politics. While the military has not become involved in domestic politics per se, the close ties to the ruling party are a source of concern. Consequently, an imbalance in civil control exists where objective control is subservient to subjective control, but is equally weakened by politicians’ lack of interest in and understanding of military matters. In South Africa, this has meant that parliamentary debates on defence are limited, and where defence issues are raised, this has been primarily by opposition parties.55 In addition, the Minister of Defence often shuns questions or leaves them unanswered due to information being deemed classified.56 There has also been a decline in decline in the willingness to hold the executive to account, coupled with an unwillingness on the part of members of the ruling party to ask critical questions.57 In this regard, Mnyami Booi, former chair of the PCDMV, is quoted as saying that ‘the empowerment of ministers at the cost of their MPs and their supervisory role can “kill” Parliament’ as it ‘constantly brings the legislative authority into conflict with the executive authority’.58 The official opposition, the Democratic Alliance (DA), similarly accused the Minister of Defence and Military Veterans at the time of covering up problems in the SANDF,

50 See Chap. 5 for a breakdown of the statistics. 51 Duncan, The Rise of the Securocrats, 111. 52 Abel Esterhuyse, ‘Professional Military Education and Training: Challenges Facing the South African Military’, Defence Studies 6, no. 3 (2006): 393. 53 Numerous officers in senior command state that under the Zuma administration there was an unwillingness by former MK officers to challenge the executive. 54 Rebecca Schiff, The Military and Domestic Politics: A Concordance Theory of Civil–Military Relations (New York: Routledge, 2008). 55 Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’, 222–223. 56 Ibid., 181–182. 57 Ibid., 236. 58 Pieter du Toit. ‘Sisulu Contemptuous of Parliament’, Beeld, 19 August 2010, https://www. news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/Sisulu-contemptuous-of-Parliament-20100818, accessed 20 August 2019. 4.6 Demilitarisation and the Civil-Military Gap 65 of withholding information on the service conditions and state of readiness of the military, and of shutting out the portfolio committee.59 There has been a real decline in robust debate and oversight, due to the limited activity of both the JSCD and the PCDMV since 2009.60 The lack of debate and engagement on important oversight areas, such as the defence budget, increasing expenditure on personnel and the effect on deployment, on the 2015 Defence Review, on defence procurement, on pressing human resource issues and on deployment has had a profound effect on the SANDF. This is due not only to a lack of political will to engage with these issues but also an ineptitude. Kohn61 highlights the implications: Competent, effective and courageous civilian officials are indispensable to civilian control. Men and women who understand the military ethos, treat those who wear the uniform with courtesy, contest them when necessary, and protect their professionalism when others in the political arena attempt to gain partisan advantage by using or abusing the military leadership. Senior officers fear being stuck with the blame for policies or operations that fail not because of military mistakes, but because of decisions by politicians. This points to the problem the military faces in terms of not only civil control but also how a lack of understanding of defence matters by civilian politicians can affect the institutional and operational functioning of the military. Contributing to this is the dearth of expertise and knowledge of military affairs associated with the emergence of a civil-military gap and associated demilitarisation of society.

4.6 Demilitarisation and the Civil-Military Gap

In the post-apartheid era, South Africa experienced a decline in both militarism and militarisation. At the political level, the military was no longer central to state power, as reflected by the lack of engagement by politicians in military affairs. Unlike during the apartheid era, it has become marginal in terms of its status and relevance, as reflected by the lack of investment in defence and the decline in the defence budget and size of the military. Massive cutbacks in the defence budget have led to what Luckham calls ‘demilitarisation by default’, as the defence budget and investment in the armaments industry declines, thereby removing the footprint of the military from society.62 Similarly, with the end of conscription and limited internal deployment, and associated questioning of the relevance and importance of the military by citizens, the military has become ideologically detached from society. Indeed, the

59 News24, ‘Army Becoming a “State Within a State”’, News24, 25 October 2010. https://www. news24.com/SouthAfrica/Politics/Sisulu-turning-army-into-a-state-within-a-state-20101025, accessed 20 August 2019. 60 For an extensive study on the decline in activity of the JSCD and DPC(VA) see Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’. 61 Kohn, ‘How Democracies Control the Military’, 152. 62 Robin Luckham, ‘The Military, Militarization and Democratization in Africa: A Survey of Literature and Issues’, African Studies Review 37, no. 2 (September 1994): 41. 66 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society

SANDF has become a ‘faceless’ organisation, with few civilians having any knowledge or understanding of what the military does, how it operates or the challenges it faces, nor of the defence budget and the deployment of personnel.63 With the military effectively removed from society, there is both a connectivity and a knowledge gap affecting both civil-military relations and civil control of the military. As early as 1998, Frankel64 commented that this was developing into an ‘ongoing fault line’ that affects policy-making and an understanding of what constitutes national interest and the role of the armed forces. The consequence is a lack of understanding and an inability on the part of both politicians and the citizenry to apply, analyse, synthesise and ultimately evaluate defence and security concerns.65 In this regard, Schiff’s66 concordance theory stresses the importance not only of the military but also of politicians and the citizenry in agreeing on certain fundamentals affecting the functioning of the military. But this cannot occur where there is a general lack of interest in and knowledge of military matters. On this point, a senior officer commented that ‘civil society has become unconsciously incompetent on military matters, while the military has regressed to conscious incompetence’.67 This epitomises the state of civil-military relations in South Africa and the consequences of a civil-military gap. To an extent, the SANDF needs to shoulder some of the blame for the current knowledge gap, given its lack of engagement with civil society. Kohn,68 for example, points out that a vigilant press is vital to ensure effective civil control. In recent years, the DoD has tended to avoid media briefings on the activities, role and purpose of the SANDF.69 Instead of providing timely information on military matters, it prefers to suppress information and to react defensively when issues come under public scrutiny. A journalist commented that ‘the SANDF is increasingly becoming a closed book to the media, with secrecy of state security being used as the standard excuse why information is not shared’.70 The lack of access to information is problematic as it undermines mature debate and analysis of military issues, especially where this affects research. Uncertainties about the possible sensitivity of information have meant that those classifying documents tend to ‘lean towards keeping everything secret from everybody’.71 Furthermore, the absence of an effective coor-

63 Esterhuyse, ‘Getting the Job Done’, 15. 64 Frankel, Pretoria’s Praetorians, 166. 65 Janse van Rensburg, ‘Twenty Years of Democracy’, 195. 66 Schiff, ‘Civil–Military Relations Reconsidered’”. 67 Comment made by an Army colonel regarding his experiences and assessment of civil–military relations in South Africa. 68 Kohn, ‘How Democracies Control the Military’, 153. 69 Olivier, ‘Changing International Realities and the Configuration of the South African National Defence Forces in the 21st Century’, 298. 70 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Reflections on Insider-Outsider Experiences of Military Research in South Africa’, in Researching the Military, eds. Helena Carreiras, Celso Castro and Sabina Frederic (London: Routledge, 2015), 42. 71 Helmoed-Römer Heitman, email correspondence with author, 13 April 2015. 4.6 Demilitarisation and the Civil-Military Gap 67 dinating body for research in the DoD makes it difficult to know how to request permission for research, what channels to follow and on what principles research is approved or not.72 In addition, a review of research institutions in South Africa shows that there has been a steady decline in research on the military. This is largely due to difficulties in obtaining access, which means that researchers shy away from doing empirical research that may be controversial, but is also due to a lack of interest in military affairs.73 With the military no longer a national priority in terms of its relevance and contribution to society, interest in the military has waned. A good indicator of this is how the research focus has shifted away from national security to human security, which has been associated with a decline in research focus and publications on the military. Esterhuyse74 expresses the concern that the decline in research on the military is problematic, as it is fundamental for education and training within the military, as well as for the production of knowledge for civilian society. The same applies to teaching at universities on military matters. According to Fourie,75 the fact that so few universities teach military or strategic studies is tragic as it ‘leads to an inability of students to understand the world we live in. It also contributes to the general lack of interest in the military, where they are not encouraged to engage with or research military issues.’ Linked to this is the need to understand the military in terms not only of its unique function but also of its culture, norms and values. Here, the argument is that there must be a cultural gap between the military and society, as its tasks differ fundamentally from civilian business. Although it is important that civilian and military values should converge with respect to democratic values, a correct balance is necessary in order to retain the ethos and regulatory framework for its operational effectiveness. In this regard the DoD has faced a number of legal battles, which have compelled the SANDF to recognise, for example, the right of military personnel to belong to trade unions, and to adjust the military justice system to ensure ‘equality before the law’. Failure to understand the tensions this evokes within the military can result in tension between civilian decision-makers, politicians and commanders on military affairs.76 Where this occurs, the military can become even more insular or openly contemptuous of civilian norms and values, which in turn affects its legitimacy, status and the willingness of citizens to serve in the military.77 The lack of understanding of the military affects not only the status of the military but also those who serve in it. Who joins the armed forces, and their reasons for joining, is important to all societies, as it has significant implications for the charac-

72 Abel Esterhuyse, interview by author, 9 April 2015. 73 Heinecken, ‘Reflections on Insider-Outsider Experiences’, 44. 74 Abel Esterhuyse, interview by author, 9 April 2015. 75 Deon Fourie, email correspondence with author, 20 April 2015. 76 Lindy Heinecken, Richard Gueli and Ariane Neethling. ‘Defence, Democracy and South Africa’s Civil–Military Gap’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 33, no. 1 (2005): 133. 77 Heinecken, ‘Reflections on Insider-Outsider Experiences’, 45. 68 4 Civil-Military Relations: Civil Control, Oversight and the Demilitarisation of Society ter and stability of the political system. Schiff,78 for example, points out that it is important for there to be agreement within society on the composition and nature of the officer corps. Where the citizenry view the military as unrepresentative of society, are unclear about the utilisation, and have little understanding of military culture and traditions, this ultimately affects recruitment, retention and willingness to serve in the military. Smith,79 in her study of high-school learners, found that one of the reason why the military fails to attract good-quality recruits is the lack of information and understanding of the military. Learners tend to judge the military on what they see, which is dilapidated vehicles and military bases, or what they hear in the media. They have very little understanding of what the military does, the different units they could join or the career paths they could follow, which impacts on the ability of the military to attract high-calibre recruits and the future leadership of the SANDF. The lack of visibility and the disconnect with the citizenry inevitably affects the SANDF’s ability to remain representative of society and its ability to attract good- quality recruits to staff a modern, technologically advanced defence force. The civil-military gap that has emerged is more than just a gap, it is a chasm, as reflected in the lack of knowledge among politicians and civil society on military matters. This will inevitably affect civil-military relations, how defence and security are defined and resourced, and how the military is able to execute its mandate as regional military power.

4.7 Conclusion

This chapter addressed some of the issues that affect civil-military relations in South Africa. Reflecting on the issues at stake, one can make a number of deductions about the state of civil-military relations, civil control and oversight. Since 1994, the country has moved from a highly militarised state and society where civil control was weak to one where the principles of civil control are well-entrenched but flawed in terms of their effectiveness. An imbalance has occurred between objective and subjective control, whereby the executive has come to exert power over the military, but with little understanding and appreciation of the challenges the military faces. What has undermined objective control further is the appointment of military leaders who are party loyalists and are either unwilling, or unable, to defend the institutional and professional interests of the SANDF. The consequence has been that the military has become more insular and afraid to challenge the political elite on issues affecting its functioning.

78 Schiff, ‘Civil-Military Relations Reconsidered’, 46–47. 79 Megan Smith, ‘The Clash of Cultures: Exploring the Perceptions and Experiences of South African Youth Towards the Military as an Employer of Choice’ (MA thesis, Department of Sociology, Stellenbosch University, 2015). 4.7 Conclusion 69

While the parliamentary portfolio committees have provided a degree of democratic oversight and control, especially during the first decade of the democratic era, this has declined as the committees have become less active and less engaged in robust debate. Parliamentary antipathy and apathy on matters of defence has contributed to a further decline in the quality of oversight. The lack of engagement is partly due to the dearth of knowledge and understanding of military matters among members of the parliamentary committees, the legislature and civil society. A general decline in the availability of credible information and expertise on the military impacts on informed decision-making on matters related to defence, which affects the functioning of the military. This contributes to a civil-military divide whereby military personnel feel that politicians and citizenry are ignorant of and unsympa- thetic to the tensions created by the under-resourcing of their mandate.80 Cohn81 warns that this may lead civilian officials ‘to use the military in inappro- priate ways, straining it beyond what it can bear and threatening national interest and relevance’. A negative consequence of this is that it can lead to a self-perpetuating trend of isolation, disengagement and even militarisation.82 In the area of civil- military relations, South Africa is at a perilous point, where the military feels neglected by politicians, disengaged from society, and is needing to reassert itself. With little guidance and interest from politicians and with the 2015 Defence Review recommendations still pending, it will be of interest to see how the administration of Cyril Ramaphosa engages with matters of national defence or allows it to decline into further disrepair.

80 Duncan, The Rise of the Securocrats, 104. 81 Cohn, The Evolution of the ‘Civil–Military Gap’ Debate, 14. 82 Morgan, ‘Army Recruiting and the Civil–Military Gap’, 102. Chapter 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity

South Africa’s relatively peaceful transition to democracy is partly due to the successful integration of the country’s different armed forces into a single defence force.1 The defence force of the new dispensation needed to be both legitimate and representative of society, as well as being a professional, modern and technologically advanced force. At the time of integration, none of the armed forces had all these qualities. The SADF possessed the professional military knowledge and proven competency, but lacked legitimacy. The revolutionary forces had political legitimacy, but lacked the conventional military experience needed to run and manage a modern military bureaucracy.2 Numerous challenges arose from trying to balance political and military prerogatives while addressing the injustices of the past. Since the establishment of the SANDF, the process of integration and the need to address racial imbalances, or ‘representivity’, has dominated defence transformation. The military moved from a white conscript force to a volunteer force, which had to accommodate diverse political loyalties, military cultures and racial and language groups. Although this reality resembled some of the challenges the UDF faced in 1912, it also differed in terms of the legacy of apartheid, the polarisation of South African society, and the diverse nature of the different armed forces that pre- ceded the newly formed SANDF. At the same time, the racial profile of the SANDF changed radically, which together with the implementation of an assertive affirmative-action policy led to a rapid exit of white personnel. Over the years, those remaining came to feel increasingly alienated as the new leadership of the SANDF failed to embrace diversity beyond racial representation.

1 Mark Shaw, ‘Biting the Bullet: Negotiating Democracy’s Defence’, in South African Review 7. The Small Miracle: South Africa’s Negotiated Settlement, eds. Steven Friedman and Doreen Atkinson (Johannesburg: Ravan Press, 1994), 228. 2 Joelien Pretorius, ‘Redefining Defence in the Post-Apartheid Security Imaginary: The Politics of Meaning-Fixing’, Journal of Contemporary History 33, no. 2 (2008): 37.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 71 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_5 72 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity

It is from within these complexities that this chapter emerges. The first section provides a brief descriptive overview of the nature of the armed forces that integrated to form the SANDF, the different tensions that emerged and the consequences as they unfolded. From here, the discussion moves on to the effect of affirmative action and the ensuing debates around patronage and meritocracy. The final section argues that while the SANDF is a representative military, it has not valued diversity. Although a high degree of racial tolerance has developed over the years, not valuing diversity has affected recruitment, retention and, ultimately, military effectiveness.

5.1 The Complexity of Military Integration

5.1.1 Profile of Integrated Forces

As indicated in Chap. 1, the forces that made up the new SANDF included the former statutory forces, consisting of the SADF and the Transkei Defence Force (TDF), Bophuthatswana Defence Force (BDF), Venda Defence Force (VDF) and Ciskei Defence Force (CDF), collectively known as the TBVC forces; and the non-statutory forces of Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK) and the Azanian People’s Liberation Army (APLA). Later, members of the KwaZulu Self-Protection Force (KZSPF) of the Inkatha Freedom Party became eligible for incorporation. By April 1998, when the integration process was completed, the SANDF’s human resources consisted of SADF members (53%), MK (16%), APLA (7%), TBVC (9%), KZSPF (2%) and SANDF ‘propers’ (13%).3 The integration of the SADF and TBVC forces (statutory forces) was a relatively easy process given their bureaucratic nature, similarities in structure, training and modus operandi. After verification, their integration was a simple process of con- tinuation of employment, with little alteration to their conditions of service or ranks. For the non-statutory or revolutionary forces, however, integration was more com- plicated. Most members of the revolutionary forces were unemployed, held no formal rank, and had just returned from exile, and some of their names did not appear on the Certified Personnel Register (CPR).4 Consequently, the CPR had to undergo a series of adjustments whereby the credentials of personnel were verified by their commanders and confirmed on the Placement Board before acceptance into the SANDF.5 The British Military Advisory and Training Team (BMATT) acted as neutral oversight to ensure that the process was fair, which was further monitored by the

3 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Defence Transformation and Work Alienation Among White Officers in the South African Military’, Politeia 32, no. 1 (2013): 8–9. 4 Geoffrey Rapp, ‘Defining New Roles’, Harvard International Review 97, no. 17 (1995): 60–64. 5 Lephophotho Mashike, ‘You Are a Time Bomb: Ex-Combatants in Post-Conflict South Africa’, Society in Transition 35, no. 1 (2004): 87–104. 5.1 The Complexity of Military Integration 73

Parliamentary Integration Oversight Committee of the Joint Standing Committee for Defence.6 Integration brought together forces from vastly different ideological, political and military backgrounds. The SADF was essentially organised along the lines of a conventional and counterinsurgency force.7 Prior to 1994, it was a significant military power, well equipped, with strong management capabilities, an advanced military bureaucracy, impressive infrastructure and a large component of well-trained personnel.8 It is claimed that the SADF had the capacity to call up around 500,000 military personnel.9 At the point of integration, the SADF held considerable military and economic power in terms of resources, but lacked the ideological and political power associated with the support they received under National Party rule.10 In comparison, the TBVC forces held little ideological, economic, political or military power. Although a conventional force, and structured along similar lines to the SADF, they were dependent on the latter for supplies, logistics, intelligence, training and general support.11 Their main function was to ‘protect regime security rather than the security of people’, thereby aiding the SADF to maintain the military security of the apartheid state.12 Praetorian in nature, the TBVC forces all became involved in military coups to various degrees, which compromised their professionalism and legitimacy. One commentator describes their impact on the integration process as marginal due to the ‘lack of political and institutional power base and sheer lack of confidence amongst many of their officers’.13 Another claims that their racial profile afforded them some political and social power, which allowed them to play an important role given the racial and military divide at the time.14 The fact that the TBVC personnel were black and similarly trained to the SADF meant that there was a small nucleus of trained officers who could assume senior positions in the new SANDF.15 However, this was challenged, as it soon became apparent that MK members were favoured for appointments to senior positions of command. MK was essentially the armed extension of the ANC. Its actual strength prior to integration ranged from 5000 to 12,000 members, but its ranks swelled to 22,000 as members of the self-defence units (SDUs) operating within the country were

6 Le Roux, ‘The Post-Apartheid South African Military’, 254. 7 Ibid., 243. 8 Ian Liebenberg, ‘The Integration of the Military in Post-liberation South Africa: The Contribution of Revolutionary Armies’, Armed Forces & Society 24, no. 1 (1997): 121. 9 Sass, ‘The Union and South African Defence Force’, 126. 10 Stott, From the SADF to the SANDF. 11 Le Roux, ‘The Post-Apartheid South African Military’, 245. 12 Ibid. 13 Rocky Williams, ‘Integration or Absorption?’ African Security Review 11, no. 2 (2002): 20. 14 Le Roux, ‘The Post-Apartheid South African Military’, 245. 15 Shaw, ‘Biting the Bullet’, 234. 74 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity

‘counted in’.16 In reality, MK’s strength was closer to 10,000.17 As a revolutionary force, it lacked military prowess in terms of numbers, infrastructure, training and skills, the last-mentioned being limited to training in small arms, fieldcraft, survival, sabotage techniques and insurgency warfare.18 Compared to the SADF, MK was limited in terms of human, military and financial capital, but had extensive social capital stemming from its political networks. This enabled it to play a decisive role as a counter-balancing force in the run-up to the negotiated political settlement, although it lacked military influence in the initial phase of integration.19 The same applied to APLA, which had formal links with the PAC. Prior to the 1980s, APLA operated mainly out of Tanzania and other African countries where some members received training from the Chinese military. APLA’s numbers were comparatively small, with one source of recruits believed to have come from the Cape Muslim community and the Islamic fundamentalist grouping Qibla.20 In the late 1980s APLA became more active internally, particularly in attacks against members of the security forces and civilians, mostly farmers.21 In terms of numbers and influence, APLA was considerably weaker than MK and more difficult to integrate due to its ideological stance and military background. As for the KZSPF, members had to enlist as new recruits, complete basic training and move up the ranks like any new recruit.22

5.1.2 Integration, Inclusion and Exclusion

Given the prowess of the SADF and the high level of politicisation embodied within the different armed forces, it is apparent why the integration process was tenuous.23 To ensure political stability and continuity, the decision to leave the control of the military primarily in ‘white’ hands was politically astute.24 In this regard, Levy states that ‘when the transfer of power from the government to the opposition takes place in a gradual and carefully prepared mode, it is less likely that the military will interfere politically’.25 In contrast, ‘where this transfer of power follows the break-

16 Rapp, ‘Defining New Roles’, 1. 17 Mills and Wood, ‘Ethnicity, Integration and the South African Armed Forces’. 18 Liebenberg, ‘The Integration of the Military in Post-liberation South Africa’. 19 Ibid., 115. 20 Ibid., 111–112. 21 Le Roux, ‘The Post-Apartheid South African Military’, 249. 22 Laura Heideman, ‘The Struggle for Democracy and Ex-Combatants in South Africa’, in Only Useful Until Democracy: Reintegrating Ex-Combatants in Post-Apartheid South Africa with Lessons from Kosovo & Zimbabwe, ed. David Everatt (Kalk Bay: Atlantic Philanthropies, 2006), 160. 23 Gavin Cawthra, Securing South Africa’s Democracy: Defence Development and Security in Transition (London: Macmillan, 1997), 147. 24 Shaw, ‘Biting the Bullet’, 230. 25 Yagil Levy, ‘What is Controlled by Civilian Control of the Military? Control of the Military vs. 5.1 The Complexity of Military Integration 75 down of the old regime, the military is more likely to interfere in politics’.26 For President Mandela, this was a strategic trade-off, so as not to antagonise the old guard. The other, more pragmatic reason was the agreement that the future defence force should be a technologically advanced conventional force. Essentially, this meant that all the other forces assimilated into the existing SADF structures. For MK to assume the leadership of the SANDF, it needed to become both pro- fessionalised and institutionalised as rapidly as possible.27 To accelerate this process, MK/APLA members were fast-tracked through the various military courses to provide them with the necessary professional skills, knowledge and understanding of how complex military organisations function. Non-statutory members received preference over and above members of the TBVC forces, as the former were considered more ‘disadvantaged’, primarily due to their lack of formal training.28 However, expedited education and training is no substitute for experience and understanding of complex bureaucratic processes. Williams mentions that the newly appointed MK generals would typically be ‘ring-fenced by former SADF officers who assumed responsibility for the bulk of their command and staff duties, or at worst, were effectively excluded from de-facto decision-making’.29 Beyond this was the need to assimilate a military culture that was alien and contrary to what had worked for them in the past. Liebenberg states that: The strongest point of revolutionary soldiers is probably that they are rarely bureaucratic; they adhere to a form of civilian (community) control or control imposed by the revolutionary political leadership and, yet, they creatively interact with strategies, tactics, and leadership forms. They are exponents of a spontaneous community resistance network with an innovationist (not managerialist) imperative. The tasks are more important than procedure.30 This may be a virtue for a revolutionary army, but it is a vice in a regular force. When the context changes, the strategy, tactics and behaviour of an organisation must adapt in order to remain functionally effective. In essence, the military culture of MK was the opposite of how a bureaucratised, professional, conventional military functions, and this remained a source of tension within the SANDF. In terms of leadership style, former SADF officers were socialised into a bureaucratic tradition of obedience to the chain of command. They were conformist, authoritarian and bureaucratic. In contrast, former freedom fighters were used to operating in a culture free from rigid regulations and prescribed channels. They were unfamiliar with all the bureaucratic regulations and policies, and this culture was inhibiting, frustrating and alienating. To overcome feelings of powerlessness, they tended to circumvent these

Control of Militarization’, Armed Forces & Society 42, no. 1 (2016): 90. 26 Ibid., 90. 27 Liebenberg, ‘The Integration of the Military in Post-liberation South Africa’. 28 Abbey O. Matloa, ‘The Formation of the SANDF: Integration Experiences of Former Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei Defence Force Members’ (MA thesis, Unisa, 2015), 59. 29 Williams, ‘Integration or Absorption?’, 21. 30 Liebenberg, ‘The Integration of the Military in Post-liberation South Africa’, 110. 76 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity processes by turning to their former networks for information, advice and support rather than channelling these issues through the chain of command.31 This is not unique to South Africa. According to Perlmutter and Bennett, one of the main dilemmas facing countries having to integrate revolutionary soldiers into a professional military is ‘how to disarm these soldiers politically and rearm them professionally’.32 In fact, the report of the Setai Commission of Inquiry into Integration and Racism mentions how former loyalties affect discipline, morale and the chain of command.33 This has persisted, as found in a study by Esterhuyse and Heinecken, where the comment made was that ‘a big problem with the MK members is that they always think they are special and because they have many contacts in the system, they don’t hesi- tate to skip channels to get things done’.34 What has made matters worse is that former cadres refuse to testify against each other. Former SADF members in turn are reluctant to take disciplinary action for fear of reprisal if accused of being racist, or because of the repercussions such action may hold for their own careers.35 Ultimately, this has a detrimental effect on the functioning of the chain of command, the disciplinary culture, morale and overall military effectiveness of the SANDF.

5.2 Political and ‘Racial’ Transformation

With the formal process of military integration completed by 1998, the focus of the ANC government and the DoD during the Mbeki era moved onto the next national agenda, that being the need to change the racial and gender profile of the military.36 This marked the beginning of a shift in the power balance within the SANDF, whereby the military expertise of former SADF personnel was pushed aside to make way for a more pressing national democratic agenda—transformation—aimed at correcting the racial and gender imbalance in the public service, including the SANDF.37

31 Abel Esterhuyse and Lindy Heinecken, Report to the Chief of the SA Army. 32 Amos Perlmutter and Valerie Plave Bennett, The Political Influence of the Military: A Comparative Reader (New Haven/London: Yale University Press, 1980), 23. 33 Setai Commission, ‘Progress Report on Integration since June 2001’, Joint Standing Committee on Defence: Department of Defence, https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/920/, accessed 20 August 2019. 34 Esterhuyse and Heinecken, Report to the Chief of the SA Army on the Military Culture and Institutional Ethos of the South African Army (Stellenbosch: Faculty of Military Science, 2012), 19. 35 Lindy Heinecken, ‘A Diverse Society, A Representative Military? The Complexity of Managing Diversity in the South African Armed Forces,’ Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 37, no. 1 (2009): 36. 36 This chapter deals only with issues of race. Chapter 7 addresses issues related to gender integration in the SANDF. 37 Esterhuyse, ‘Getting the Job Done’, 13. 5.2 Political and ‘Racial’ Transformation 77

5.2.1 Affirmative Action and Racial Representation

Section 195(1) of the Constitution specifically states that the ‘public administration must be broadly representative of the South African people, with employment and personnel management practices based on ability, objectivity, fairness, and the need to redress the imbalances of the past to achieve broad representation’.38 To address the racial disparities brought about by apartheid, an array of White Papers and legislation were promulgated, including the White Paper on the Transformation of the Public Service, 1995; the White Paper on Human Resource Management in the Public Service, 1995; the White Paper on Affirmative Action in the Public Service, 1998; and the Employment Equity Act (55 of 1998).39 These policies formed the basis for the development of the DoD’s strategy to address racial and gender inequalities, starting with the White Paper on Defence, 1996. Herein it was stated that ‘to secure the legitimacy of the armed forces, the Department of Defence (DoD) is committed to the goal of overcoming the legacy of racial and gender discrimination’, and will seek to create a defence force that is professional, efficient, effective and broadly representative of society.40 Subsequently, Parliament requested that the Minister of Defence oversee the design and implementation of an affirmative action (AA) and equal opportunity (EO) programme to identify and eliminate discriminatory practices and attitudes in the Defence Force.41 In 1997 the Equal Opportunities Chief Directorate (EOCD) was established and tasked to monitor and evaluate the progress of EO and AA programmes in the DoD, and in 1998 the Chief Directorate released the DoD’s first EO and AA Policy (updated in 2002). This policy outlined the DoD’s approach to racial discrimination, employment equity for women, gender and sexual harassment, sexual orientation, religious and language accommodation, and the management of diversity.42 To ensure that members complied with the new democratic vision of the government (and society), a Civic Education Programme was implemented.43 In essence, transformation in the SANDF materialised through an active affirmative-action programme designed to redress past imbalances and ameliorate the conditions of specified groups disadvantaged on the base of race, gender and disability. The objective was the need to be broadly representative of the populace with respect to race, ethnic composition, social class, religion and gender. The general assumption was that control of the armed forces is more likely when all segments of society are represented.44 Subsequently, the Defence Review set the racial

38 Republic of South Africa, The Constitution of the Republic of South Africa. 39 Heinecken, ‘A Diverse Society’. 40 Department of Defence, White Paper on Defence [1996], 32. 41 Ibid., 13. 42 Department of Defence, Safeguarding South Africa For A Better Life For All. 43 South African National Defence Force, ‘Cultural Diversity’. 44 Simon Baynham, ‘Defence and Security Issues in a Transitional South Africa’, International Affairs Bulletin 14, no. 3 (1990): 9–10. 78 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity

Table 5.1 The changing racial profile of the Department of Defence (percentage)a Race 1994 2005 2014 2018 Africans 38.3 66.8 72.3 74.7 Coloureds 15.7 12.7 12.8 12.4 Asians 1.02 1.2 1.2 1.2 Whites 44.9 19.3 13.8 11.7 aStatistics obtained from the DoD Directorate Transformation Management quotas for the SANDF as Africans 64.5%, coloureds 10.2%, Asians 0.75% and whites 25.4%. By 2000, these targets had been exceeded and a radical shift in the overall racial profile of the military was evident (see Table 5.1). Although whites were now underrepresented in terms of the targets set in the 1996 Defence Review, they remained clustered in the middle ranks at the operational level, the functional hub of the military and the link between the tactical and strategic levels. To illustrate the extent to which this demographic has continued, at a briefing to the Joint Standing Committee on Defence on 28 May 2015, it was reported that whites represent 25% in the rank group Brigadier-General to General; 38% in ranks Major to Colonel; and 40% in ranks Warrant Officer (WO) 2 to Warrant Officer and WO1.45 Merely four years later, this dropped to 17% in the ranks Brigadier-General to General, 32% Major to Colonel and 34% Warrant Officer 2 and Warrant Officer 1 by 2018.46 What is important to realise is that most of the former statutory and non-statutory forces integrated into the SANDF will reach retirement age by 2024.47 Within the next five years (2019–2023) an estimated 2740 former SADF members, 129 APLA, 288 MK and 841 TBVC members will be retiring from the SANDF.48 Although the defence force is constantly transferring knowledge and skills through formal and informal training programmes, this signifies a significant loss in institutional memory and command experience. In terms of the rejuvenation of the SANDF, the racial profile is becoming increasingly skewed. Only between 2% and 4% of whites have been volunteering for military service over the past few years, implying that the future SANDF will be an essentially black African force. Freedom Front Plus spokesman Pieter Groenewald commented that the reason whites are unlikely to join the military is that they feel that their career prospects are limited by AA.49 Although AA has been an important and necessary mechanism to correct past racial imbalances and empower blacks, the manner in which it has been implemented has not come without consequences.

45 Statistics obtained from Ministry of Defence and Military Veterans. 46 Statistics obtained from Ministry of Defence and Military Veterans. 47 Gerhard M. Louw, ‘The South African Military in Transition: Part 2—From Strategic Culture to Strategic Reality’, Scientia Militaria: South African Journal of Military Studies 42, no. 2 (2014): 53. 48 Statistics obtained from Ministry of Defence and Veterans Affairs. 49 DefenceWeb, ‘South African Soldier Killed in DRC Firefight’. 5.2 Political and ‘Racial’ Transformation 79

5.2.2 Consequences of Affirmative Action

The main beneficiaries of affirmative action have been former MK and APLA members, who have received preferential treatment in terms of promotion and attendance of military courses. By 2007, MK and APLA members had already come to represent 46% of officers within the rank group Brigadier-General to General and above. By 2011, this had risen to 50% and by 2018 to 52%, which is quite considerable given the small number of MK/APLA personnel integrated into the SANDF and the attrition that has taken place over the years.50 A cursory look at the present posts of the Chief SANDF, Chief of Corporate Staff, reveals that currently all the service chiefs and the vast majority of division chiefs are former members of MK. Indeed, all those serving in the rank group Lieutenant-General/Rear Admiral to General/ Admiral (nine in total), are from the non-statutory forces. Consequently, many of the former forces and SANDF ‘propers’ feel that AA has not resulted in equal opportunities for all blacks.51 Similarly, the study by Motloa found that former TBVC members feel overlooked for promotion and military courses.52 A number of implications stem from this. One is that it has affected cohesion, as former military identities continue to serve as a factor influencing promotion, leading to feelings that the SANDF is still not an ‘integrated force’. The continuing use of force numbers as a means to identify different groups contributes to this differentiation and othering.53 Added to this is the feeling that the SANDF has become politicised, which, as pointed out in Chap. 4, has compromised military professionalism. In this regard, Perlmutter and Bennett maintain that: Where the established criteria for appointment and promotion are not applied in an impartial manner, based on professional performance, but rather on subjective criteria, personal preference or political affiliation that this inevitably runs counter to military professionalism and encourages praetorian tendencies.54 Particularly under the Zuma administration, a culture of neo-patrimonialism has taken hold, affecting both military professionalism and effectiveness. This arises where the legal rational bureaucracy (chain of command) intertwines with a patri- monial bureaucracy through networks of patronage.55 When this occurs, rules and regulations meant to govern bureaucratic structures are violated, undermining military professionalism and rendering the military bureaucracy dysfunctional.56 In this

50 Heinecken, ‘Defence Transformation and Work Alienation’, 9. 51 Ibid. 52 Matloa, ‘The Formation of the SANDF’, 59. 53 Ibid. 54 Perlmutter and Bennett, The Political Influence of the Military, 205. 55 Daniel C. Bach, ‘Patrimonialism and Neopatrimonialism: Comparative Trajectories and Readings’, Commonwealth & Comparative Politics 49, no. 3 (2011): 278. 56 Gero Erdmann and Ulf Engel, ‘Neopatrimonialism Reconsidered: Critical Review and Elaboration of an Elusive Concept’, Commonwealth & Comparative Politics 45, no. 91 (2007): 95–119. 80 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity regard, Esterhuyse has commented that where ‘generals functioning in a self- sanctioning institutional culture of misplaced political loyalty, stretch the defence capacity to please their political masters’, this leads to a breakdown of the institution they command.57 Some of the more dire consequences of this, along with a culture of neo-patrimonialism, is the blurring of private and public realms, which engender corruption or the misuse of political power.58 A case in point is the Guptagate scandal, where contrary to military rules and regulations, President Zuma gave permission for a private plane carrying the guests of his friends, the wealthy Gupta family, to land at Waterkloof Air Force Base.59 This was clearly unofficial, illegal and an abuse of a secure military base.60 Incidents like this cause the military to lose its legitimacy and create acrimony within the ranks. Furthermore, if those being affirmed lack the necessary skills, training and experience, it can lead to feelings of incompetence, especially where they do not assert themselves.61 Harrison, Price and Bell claim that where the beneficiaries of AA are of a lower status or level of competency, others who consider themselves competent often withdraw from the job and organisation.62 An SA Navy officer articulated this as such: I feel that as a white senior officer with scarcely needed skills in a branch that is not attractive to Africans my service is no longer wanted or needed based on the colour of my skin. I find this very hard to accept as I serve my country and service just as loyally as in the past. This is expected of a military officer. My goal of attaining rank after a successful career is no longer achievable. For the first time I need to think of another career in the medium term.63 Another white officer illustrates it as such: It just becomes pointless trying to make a difference. If you question things, you are isolated. If you apply the rules and policies and they don’t like it, then you are racist, punished and victimised, and all you are trying to do is your job. In the long run, you just become totally disillusioned and leave.64

57 Abel Esterhuyse. ‘Money Has Little to Do With Why South Africa’s Military Is Failing to Do its Job’. The Conversation, 19 July 2017, https://theconversation.com/money-has-little-to-do-with- why-south-africas-military-is-failing-to-do-its-job-81216, accessed 20 August 2019. 58 Ukana B. Ikpe, ‘Patrimonialism and Military Regimes in Nigeria’, African Journal of Political Science 5, no. 1 (2000): 146–147. 59 Three officials were blamed for the breach: former head of state protocol Bruce Koloane and two white officers, Lt-Col Christine Anderson and Lt-Col Stephan van Zyl. The two military officers were found not guilty in a court of law, because they were operating under the orders of Number One (President Zuma). Koloane was rewarded with an ambassadorial post in the Netherlands. 60 Andrew Harding, ‘Guptagate: The Scandal South Africa’s Zuma Can’t Shake’, BBC News, 21 January 2015, http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-30923275, accessed 20 August 2019. 61 Sanjay T. Menon and Elize Kotze, ‘Human Resource Integration in the South African Military: A View From the Trenches’, Human Resource Management 46, no. 1 (2007): 86. 62 David A. Harrison, Kenneth H. Price and Myrtle P. Bell, ‘Beyond Relational Demography: Time and the Effects of Surface and Deep-Level Diversity on Work Group Cohesion’, Academy of Management Journal 41, no. 1 (1998): 96–107. 63 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Managing Diversity in the South African Armed Forces’, in J. Soeters and J. van der Meulen (eds) Managing Diversity in Armed Forces (London: Routledge, 2007), 83. 64 Heinecken, ‘Defence Transformation and Work Alienation’, 18. 5.2 Political and ‘Racial’ Transformation 81

Such feelings of alienation have contributed to the atrophying of skills in the SANDF.65 For those who have remained, many experience a sense of powerlessness where they are sidelined in the decision-making process, causing them to withdraw psychologically from the organisation.66 In essence, this has given rise to a degree of personalised detachment and an instrumentalist view of employment, leading to a decline in job satisfaction and commitment and an increase in attrition.67 As previously indicated, these feelings are not limited to whites but extend also to coloureds and blacks who feel overlooked in terms of their career progression based not on race, but rather on former force. Mottaz holds that when work is not self-fulfilling, where there is a lack of promotional opportunity or advancement, or where employees gain no sense of personal fulfilment from their work, commitment and willingness to remain in an organisation are negatively affected.68

5.2.3 Underlying Causes of Racism and Discrimination

Besides feelings of alienation, which affect both recruitment and retention, a number of other factors bedevil race relations in the military. Much of the racial tension within the SANDF is due to past inequalities in education and perceived standards of training. Especially during the early years of integration, this fuelled racial conflict—whites considered blacks inherently less capable and doubted their capabilities when in positions of authority.69 Much had to do with the fact that SADF training focused primarily on the tactical and operational domain needed for warfare, while for MK/APLA the focus was on the political understanding of the revolutionary struggle at the strategic level. This difference in ‘military’ culture was often the cause of tension, but became construed as racism linked to perceptions of white superiority, contributing to feelings of dissonance, resentment and animosity.70 In the SANDF, this gave rise to a number of racially motivated murders within the first decade after integration. In September 1999, a disgruntled former APLA member shot dead seven white fellow soldiers and a civilian clerk at the Tempe military base in Bloemfontein.71 In July 2000, a black lieutenant killed his white

65 Lindy Heinecken and Noelle van der Waag-Cowling, ‘The Politics of Race and Gender in the South African Armed Forces: Issues, Challenges and Lessons’, Commonwealth & Comparative Politics 47, no. 4 (2009): 523; Andre Wessels, ‘The South African National Defence Force, 1994– 2009’, Journal for Contemporary History 35, no. 2 (2010): 137. 66 Menon and Kotze, ‘Human Resource Integration’, 76. 67 Heinecken, ‘Defence Transformation and Work Alienation’. 68 Clifford J. Mottaz, ‘The Determinants of Work Alienation’, The Sociological Quarterly 22, no. 4 (1981): 526. 69 Linda Human, ‘Managing Workforce Diversity: A Critique and Example from South Africa’, International Journal of Manpower 17, no. 4/5 (1996): 54–55. 70 P. Dube and G. Gifford, ‘Killing Spree Triggers Rethink on Integration’, The Sunday Independent, 19 September 1999. 71 Ibid. 82 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity company commander at 7 SA Infantry Battalion, and a month later, a black naval rating shot his white watch officer aboard the minesweeper SAS East London.72 Another incident occurred in 2001 when a black corporal, serving on the peacekeeping mission in Burundi, shot and seriously injured a white officer. Later, in November 2007, a black SAAF candidate officer shot and killed his white training coordinator and critically injured his instructor after hearing that he had failed the officer course for the second time.73 Such incidents and others reported to the Setai Commission illustrate how allegations of racial inequality and arrogance, and counter-allegations of defiance and disobedience, contributed to tensions and ill-discipline in the ranks, sometimes with fatal consequences.74 Another contributing factor was the continued use of the Afrikaans language, especially in the SA Army.75 For the purposes of command and control, English is the official thread language for defence communication, supported by the appropriate link language (dominant language of region, zone, command, formation or unit). In practice, English and Afrikaans overshadow the other languages and equitable language treatment does not translate into equality. Language is an important source of power, and English is often the second or third language of Africans. Consequently, they are at a disadvantage, especially on military courses where these linguistic shortcomings are associated with intellectual inferiority, when in fact it is merely an inability to express oneself adequately. Power embodied in language is a tool of both inclusion and exclusion. Just as few blacks speak Afrikaans, so do few whites speak any of the African languages. Whereas in the past this led to feelings of exclusion for blacks, in the post-apartheid defence force whites experience similar feelings of social isolation. Another factor contributing to racial tensions was the initial lack of recognition afforded to ethnic culture. Many of the traditions upheld by the SANDF stem from the former SADF and are Eurocentric, or more specifically British, in origin. Blacks felt that little recognition was afforded to their cultural practices and beliefs, including the acceptance of customary marriages and dependants, weddings, funerals, godparents and the need to communicate with the ancestors.76 Typical problems experienced included the lack of recognition by superiors of the importance assigned to certain cultural ceremonies, the need to attend funerals of extended-family members, and the desire to consult traditional healers. Mashike, for example, cites the incident where a white regimental sergeant-major punched a rifleman for wearing a

72 International Institute for Security Studies (IISS), ‘The South African Military: Racism and Restructuring’, The International Institute for Strategic Studies 6, no. 10 (2005): 1–2; Wessels, ‘The South African National Defence Force’, 139. 73 Hanti Otto, ‘SAAF Candidate Officer’s Case Postponed’, IOL, 13 November 2007, https://www. iol.co.za/news/south-africa/saaf-candidate-officers-case-postponed-378574, Accessed 20 August 2019. 74 Setai Commission, ‘Progress Report on Integration since June 2001’. 75 Heinecken, ‘A Diverse Society, A Representative Military?’, 29–30. 76 Setai Commission, ‘Progress Report on Integration Since June 2001’, 34. 5.2 Political and ‘Racial’ Transformation 83 sangoma’s bracelet.77 Over the years, these types of racial and cultural tensions have subsided as the SANDF amended its dress policy, but some tensions still remain in terms of accommodating different cultural and religious practices.78 In June 2019, a national furore erupted over a disciplinary case against a Muslim female major who had worn a headscarf under her military beret. She was charged with ‘wilful defiance, and disobeying a lawful command’. According to SANDF regulations, no other clothing may be worn with an official uniform, even where it does not impinge on the uniform.79 However, this has been viewed as discrimination and a violation of the right to religious freedom as enshrined in the Constitution. The wearing of the hijab, or headscarf, by Muslim women in the presence of any male outside their immediate family is seen by Muslims as a sign of modesty, as well as a symbol of religious faith. The Muslim Judicial Council came out strongly in support of the officer concerned, claiming that this was an infringement not only of the religious rights of Muslim women but also of human dignity, which would not be tolerated.80 A determination is now under consideration to allow Muslim women to wear headscarves under their berets until the military’s dress code policy can be amended.81 This is just one of the many cases of how the SANDF has been pressured to accommodate individual rights and to find ways to manage cultural and workplace diversity.

77 Lephophotho Mashike, ‘“Blacks Can Win Everything, But the Army”: The Transformation of the South African Military Between 1994 and 2005’, Journal of Southern African Studies 33, no. 3 (2007): 624. 78 Department of Defence, Policy on Equal Opportunities and Affirmative Action, DOD instruction: Pol and Plan No 00001/1998: 1 October (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2002); Lindy Heinecken and Michelle Nel. ‘Human Rights and HIV-Testing in the South African Armed Forces: Whose Rights are Paramount?’, Journal of Human Rights 8, no. 4 (2009): 340–359. 79 Mwangi Githahu, ‘SANDF Major’s Hijab Charges a Violation of Her Rights’, IOL, 26 June 2019, https://www.iol.co.za/capeargus/news/sandf-majors-hijab-charges-a-violation-of-her- rights-27631788, accessed 26 July 2019. 80 The South African Human Rights Commission (SAHRC), ‘“This Will Never Be Accepted in SA”—MJC Women’s Forum on SANDF Case’, 1 July 2019, https://www.sahrc.org.za/index.php/ sahrc-media/news/item/1995-this-will-never-be-accepted-in-sa-mjc-women-s-forum-on-sandf- case, accessed 26 July 2019. 81 Jenna Etheridge, ‘SANDF Headscarf Case: Muslim Major May Get Interim Relief as Policy Talks Continue’, News24, 18 July 2019, https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/sandf- headscarf-case-muslim-members-may-get-interim-relief-as-policy-talks-continue-20190718, accessed 26 July 2019. 84 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity

5.3 Managing Versus Valuing Diversity

Affirmative action has been the main approach towards achieving workplace diversity in the SANDF, but as reflected above, this process has not encouraged awareness or respect for cultural diversity. One of the first initiatives in the early stages of integration to overcome this was the Psychological Integration Programme (PIP). The aim of PIP was for members to discuss their feelings of guilt, bitterness, fear or anger—to get these feelings ‘out in the open’ so that all could be sensitised to the different perceptions that exist. During this phase, a video of apartheid was shown to highlight how various groups experienced its effects on their lives. The next phase addressed aspects of cultural diversity, with the aim of cultivating respect for the backgrounds and cultures of others, and of fostering a mutually acceptable military culture. The last phase of the programme dealt with cohesion and how to bring about a sense of unity among the diverse groups integrated. It is beyond the scope of this chapter to go into details, but in essence PIP failed in its objectives for a number of reasons. The first was the inability of facilitators to diffuse the tensions that arose, which resulted in even deeper feelings of resentment. Instead of unifying the different racial groups, PIP evoked divisiveness and animosity and exacerbated existing tensions.82 One of the problems of approaching diversity training from this perspective is that it encourages an ‘us vs them’ atmosphere, leading to a hostile work environment.83 This encourages a move away from a psychological to a sociological approach to managing diversity, by cultivating an awareness of cultural differences and the effect that racial stereotyping has on unity. This formed part of the Civic Education Cultural Diversity Programme, which focused on the core values of a democratic South Africa and the need to foster greater understanding, tolerance and cohesion among different racial groups. The programme was incorporated into the curriculum of the various military courses and was more successful than PIP, as it created a greater awareness of cultural differences and stereotypes. The programme ended in 2000 when the EOCD became responsible for all diversity training. Subsequent to this, the EOCD developed a number of courses and seminars to train military personnel on the ramifications of discrimination and to increase their knowledge on a range of topics relating to the effect of socialisation, communication across cultures, power and discrimination, racism, sexism, religious discrimination, sexual harassment, conflict management and affirmative action. While successful in creating a culture of racial tolerance, one cannot say that there now exists a culture of inclusion.84

82 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Managing Diversity In An Unequal Society’, 201–202. 83 C.W. von Bergen, Barlow Soper and Teresa Foster, ‘Unintended Negative Effects of Diversity Management’, Public Personnel Management 31, no. 2 (June 2002): 239. 84 Now the Directorate of Transformation. 5.4 Conclusion 85

Inclusion implies that there are other dynamics that need to be taken into consideration.85 Shore et al. name four elements of diversity, based on whether or not ‘dissimilar’ employees are treated as ‘insiders’, as ‘people belonging to the ‘organisation’ and whether or not they are seen as providing ‘unique value’ to the organisation.86 In the case of the SANDF, ‘dissimilar’ relates not only to race but also to former force. The more segmented an organisation, the more difficult it is to create a universal military culture and the greater the problems of integration and coordination.87 This continues to be a dividing factor, as reflected in the tension that the promotion of officers based on political allegiance, rather than professional competency, has evoked. Feelings of exclusion give rise to harmful cognitive, emotional, behavioural and health outcomes for those who feel neglected and excluded. The SANDF is yet to achieve a state of integration in which all conform to the dominant cultural values and norms of the organisation. The attempt to foster this emerged by focusing on a set of universal values. However, this has been undermined by continuing differentiation, or othering. Only when differentiation shifts to recognising and/or valuing diversity in relation to the unique skills and values that different groups bring to an organisation can one reach a true sense of inclusion. A sense of inclusion occurs when ‘different’ individuals are treated as insiders who really belong to the organisation, when their contribution is valued, while retaining their uniqueness within the work group. There is evidence that the SANDF is slowly moving towards this scenario as the new generation of military officers, not aligned to the former forces, moves up the ranks. However, it is clear that, based on the recruitment and retention figures, embracing diversity remains an elusive goal in a society that remains deeply divided by race.

5.4 Conclusion

Reflecting on the processes of integration and transformation, a number of salient points about the successes, opportunities and consequences for the SANDF emerge. First, despite deep-rooted political ideologies and differences in military backgrounds, the SANDF managed to consolidate a process that put South Africa on the path to democracy. This ought to be considered a success. Few can dispute that this was a major achievement, as it entailed the careful balancing of all the different forces and their sources of power. During the first decade of transformation, former SADF officers possessed the superior knowledge in terms of how to run and manage

85 This section is based on a chapter written with Joseph Soeters titled ‘From Diversity to Inclusion in the Armed Forces’, due to be published in The Handbook of the Sociology of the Military (forthcoming). 86 Lynn M. Shore et al., ‘Inclusion and Diversity in Work Groups: A Review and Model for Future Research’, Journal of Management 37, no. 4 (2011): 1262–1289. 87 Marek Korczynski, Randy Hodson and Paul K. Edwards (eds), Social Theory at Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 96. 86 5 Political Reform: Integration, Representivity and Managing Diversity a professional, modern, technologically advanced defence force. They held the military power and could easily ‘intimidate the MK negotiators by exploiting their technical weakness’.88 The only factor in MK’s favour was its social capital and alliance with the ruling ANC, which placed it in a politically superior position. With political and ideological backing from the society, MK could effectively proceed to take over the military. However, the overemphasis on these social and political imperatives has come at a cost. Many observers believe that so-called cadre deployment has eroded the SANDF’s efficiency and effectiveness.89 Experiences from other countries show that where the military is dominated by a particular group, and where patronage favours a particular elite, grave consequences for democracy are inevitable.90 While these patronage networks have been an important source of support for MK/APLA members in their attempt to take charge and gain control of the military, they have affected the internal functioning of the military. Where the formal chain of command intersects with patronage networks through personalised bonds of loyalty, it has a detrimental effect on the chain of command. Professionalism is sacrificed where political expe- dience supersedes expertise, efficiency and effectiveness.91 With the continued emphasis on former forces and the privileging of members linked to MK, the SANDF has not reached the point where it has moved beyond numbers when looking at workplace diversity. The fact that not everyone in the SANDF is valued equally for their strength and difference has meant that the defence force has not benefited from or embraced the diversity within. The emphasis has been almost exclusively on creating workplace diversity based on political rather than military imperatives. As Louw states, ‘this over-pursuance of racial representativeness by politician and defence leadership alike was bound to affect, perhaps inadvertently, the strategic culture of the SANDF’.92 Ultimately, the effectiveness of a military is not bound purely to representativeness and legitimacy, but rather to the ability of personnel to get the job done irrespective of race, culture and political allegiance.93

88 Mashike, ‘“Blacks Can Win Everything, But the Army”’, 601. 89 Peter Honey, ‘The Battle’s Just Begun’, Financial Mail, 7 June 2002. 90 Judith Verweijen, ‘Military Business and the Business of the Military in the Kivus’, Review of African Political Economy 40, no. 135 (2013): 67–82. 91 Roy E. Licklinder, New Armies from Old: Merging Competing Military Forces After Civil Wars (Washington, DC: Georgetown University Press, 2014). 92 Louw, ‘The South African Military in Transition’, 39. 93 Esterhuyse, ‘Getting the Job Done’. Chapter 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation

Closely associated with integration were the processes of demobilisation, rationalisation and reintegration of former soldiers back into civilian society. This is a challenge facing many countries in post-conflict contexts and is often fraught with difficulties of adaptation and compensation. Whether it is soldiers from advanced democracies or those facing demobilisation after the end of liberation wars, the transition from military to civilian life is not an easy process.1 There are many reasons for this, some relating to the nature of military service, others to the effect of military socialisation on the ‘military habitus’ of soldiers, still others to the lack of transferable skills. Nonetheless, the failure to reintegrate military veterans into society can create complex social and political problems that are difficult to resolve.2 South Africa hoped to avoid some of the challenges faced by other countries in the region. For example, in Namibia, protests over poor conditions for veterans compared to those enjoyed by the ruling elite led to the establishment of the Socio-

In this chapter, I am indebted to a number of my students who have worked on military socialisation and the reintegration of MSDS members (Neil Kramm), and on MK and APLA veterans (Henrietta Bwalya). Their interest, insights and knowledge have broadened my understanding of the challenges that military veterans face in adapting to civilian life.

1 Dandeker et al., Improving the Delivery of Cross Departmental Support and Services for Veterans; Beverly P. Bergman, Howard J. Burdett and Neil Greenberg, ‘Service Life and Beyond—Institution or Culture’, The RUSI Journal 159, no. 5 (2014): 60–68; Paul R. Higate, ‘Theorizing Continuity: From Military to Civilian Life’, Armed Forces & Society 27, no. 3 (2001): 443–460; Meredith Kleykamp, ‘A Great Place to Start? The Effect of Prior Military Service on Hiring’, Armed Forces & Society 35, no. 2 (2009): 266–285; Neil Kramm, ‘Youth and Military Service: Exploring the Effects of Military Socialisation, Reintegration and Employment’ (MA thesis, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, Stellenbosch University, 2016). 2 Gear, Now that the War is Over; Mashike, ‘You Are a Time Bomb’; Ivan Y. Sun, Hung-En Sung and Doris C. Chu, ‘Collateral Gains from the Military? A Cross-National Analysis of the Armed Forces–Crime Relationship’, International Journal of Offender Therapy and Comparative Criminology 91, no. 5 (2007): 599–614.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 87 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_6 88 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation

Economic Integration Programme for Ex-Combatants, aimed at affirmative-action job placements in the public service. In Angola, war veterans threatened to withdraw their support for the ruling Movimento Popular de Libertação de Angola (MPLA) party. In Zimbabwe, the failure to deal with veterans’ compensation eventually pushed the country to the brink of economic collapse.3 Military veterans return to civilian society with a specific skill set, and where they cannot find gainful employment, may resort to criminal activities as a means of survival, or, worse still, use their military skills to create political instability.4 In South Africa, large numbers of personnel needed to be disarmed, demobilised and reintegrated back into society. In 1993 Cock warned that if not addressed, veterans could become a source of political tensions and pose a security threat.5 Rapp’s warning was more austere. He said: If the members of the MK are permitted to return to civilian life without integration or demobilisation, they will be a potential source of violent opposition to the democratic government. These guerrillas have been trained to oppose governments through violence. If the former guerrillas perceive that the government is ignoring their interests, there will be a latent risk of violence. In many townships, former MK members are threatening to attack government offices and police stations unless their demands for a ‘financial package’ of benefits, subsidies, and other preferential treatments are met. Their capacity for organised political violence presents an implicit threat to the future of South Africa’s democracy.6 As Van der Waag points out, the challenge for South Africa was how ‘to mini- mise the risks and security concerns relating to ex-combatants who were not eligible for integration or chose not to integrate, and to guard against political and societal instability’.7 Discontentment with the management of the processes of demobilisation, reintegration and compensation resulted in protests and the need for subsequent government intervention to regulate the affairs of military veterans. Moreover, given the close relationship of, particularly, those war veterans associated with the liberation struggle, there was the recognition that this group occupies an important place in the body politic.8 To provide context to these debates, the first section of this chapter examines why military veterans in general, whether from the statutory or non-statutory forces, typically experience difficulties reintegrating into civilian life. Hereafter, the focus

3 Martin Rupiya, ‘What We Know About HIV and Aids in the Armed Forces in Southern Africa’, African Security Review 15, no. 4 (2000): 128–138. 4 Lindy Heinecken and Henriette Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans in South Africa’, African Security Review 22, no. 1 (2013): 30–46; Lephophotho Mashike and Mafole Mokalobe, Reintegration into Civilian Life: The Case of Former MK and APLA Combatants, CCR Occasional Paper 12, no. 1 (2003): 6–36. 5 Jacklyn Cock, ‘The Social Integration of Demobilized Soldiers in Contemporary South Africa’, South African Defence Review 2, no. 12 (1993): 1–17. 6 Rapp, ‘Defining New Roles’. 7 Van der Waag, A Military History of South Africa, 297 8 Siphokazi Magadla, ‘Women Combatants and the Liberation Movements in South Africa: Guerrilla Girls, Combative Mothers and the In-Betweeners’, African Security Review 24, no. 4 (2015): 390–402. 6.1 Difficulties with Reintegration into Civilian Society 89 shifts to military veterans in South Africa across the spectrum and the difficulties they experience in terms of their economic, social and political reintegration. The last section engages with government’s attempt to address the needs of military veterans, issues of compensation and some of the political enigmas that emerged.

6.1 Difficulties with Reintegration into Civilian Society

Before engaging with the specific difficulties facing South African military veterans, it is important to illustrate that the challenges military veterans face are often universal because of the nature of military work and the lasting effect of military socialisation. From the moment civilian recruits enter the military, they undergo a process of socialisation in which they must assimilate the values, norms and practices of the institution. Military socialisation results in what has been termed the ‘military habitus’, associated with a certain way of acting, thinking and feeling.9 Bourdieu defines habitus as a set of dispositions that dictate how people act and think, which have become internalised through the activities and experiences of everyday life.10 Serving in the military leaves a ‘behavioural residue’ that affects veterans’ emotional and psychological ability to adapt to a civilian life.11 In the military, soldiers’ daily lives are rigidly planned, controlled and adminis- tered, leaving little room for individual freedom. When they leave the military, the sudden loss of structure and routine can be particularly difficult for those who have developed a high level of dependency on the ‘surrogate’ military family.12 Suddenly, they have to think and act for themselves. The basic knowledge and decision-making skills linked to everyday living may be underdeveloped in those individuals who have become highly institutionalised. They leave carrying with them a military identity and habitus that is at odds with societal values, and includes factors such as being overly aggressive, displaying masculinised traits, needing constant supervision, and being unable to deal with confrontation in the civilian workplace.13 Even where military personnel have acquired transferable skills, adapting may still be difficult where they are not used to taking initiative or making decisions on their own.14 Consequently, military veterans tend towards employment in institutions closely aligned to their military skills and habitus. Typically, this includes masculinised institutions such as the prisons, fire service, the police force and other security ser-

9 Ronald R. Krebs, ‘A School for the Nation? How Military Services Does Not Build Nations, and How It Might’, International Security 28, no. 4 (2004): 85–124. 10 Pierre Bourdieu, The Logic of Practice (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990). 11 Higate, ‘Theorizing Continuity’, 447. 12 Ibid., 452. 13 Bergman, Burdett and Greenberg, ‘Service Life and Beyond’. 14 Ljubica Jelusic, ‘Conversion of the Military: Resource-Reuse Perspective After the End of the Cold War’, in Handbook of the Sociology of the Military, ed. Giuseppe Caforio (New York: Springer, 2006), 345–360. 90 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation vices.15 In terms of other jobs, Kilburn and Klerman found that employers viewed military veterans as too institutionalised, rigid and aggressive, qualities that affected their employment opportunities.16 Hence, it is not surprising that veterans experience a higher level of unemployment than do their civilian peers. Kleykamp, for example, found that young veterans aged 20–24 had double the rates of unemployment compared to those of their non-veteran counterparts.17 Besides their military habitus, veterans’ employment experience and opportunities were affected by employer bias based on political ideology, stereotypes that they possess poor skills, and presumptions about mental and emotional dysfunction.18 Employers may also hold negative views of military veterans, believing that they may suffer from mental- health problems associated with post-traumatic stress.19 In this regard, Elder and Clipp found that such traumatic life experiences among military veterans have long- term effects on their psychological well-being that hinder reintegration.20 In addition to employer attitudes, three other reasons related to veterans themselves pose reintegration challenges. The first is educational level. It is typical that military men and women join the military or liberation forces without any formal tertiary education. When they enter the civilian labour market, they are generally less educated and have fewer marketable skills than civilians.21 The second reason is that even where their skills are recognised, they may lack experience in occupations such as security work.22 The third is that for many veterans, re-entering the civilian labour market means they have to start a second career from scratch.23 Consequently, an inability to reintegrate both economically and socially is added to other psychological problems such as anxiety, depression, interpersonal difficulties, anger, hostility and helplessness.24 These become worse when those affected do not

15 Higate, ‘Theorizing Continuity’, 445 and 455. 16 Revecca M. Kilburn and Jacob Klerman, Enlistment Decisions in the 1990s: Evidence from Individual-Level Data (Santa Monica: RAND Corporation, 1999). 17 Kleykamp, ‘A Great Place to Start?’, 267–268. 18 Yuval Feinstein, ‘The Thin Line Between “Crazy” and “Hero”: Exploring the Multiple Statuses of US Veterans in a Work-therapy Programme’, Armed Forces & Society 41, no. 1 (2015): 4–6. 19 Ibid.; Hugo de Vries and Nikkie Wiegink, ‘Breaking up and Going Home? Contesting Two Assumptions in the Demobilization and Reintegration of Former Combatants’, International Peacekeeping 18, no. 1 (2011): 42. 20 Glen H. Elder, Jr., and Elizabeth C. Clipp, ‘Combat Experience and Emotional Health Impairment and Resilience in Later Life’, Journal of Personality 57, no. 2 (1989): 312–341. 21 Stephen L. Mangum and David E. Ball, ‘Military Skill Training: Some Evidence of Transferability’, Armed Forces & Society 13, no. 3 (1987): 425–441. 22 Jacklyn Cock, ‘Gun Violence and Masculinity in Contemporary South Africa’, in Changing Men in Southern Africa, ed. Robert Morrell (Pietermaritzburg: University of Natal Press, 2001), 43–56; Godfrey Maringira, ‘Militarised Minds: The Lives of Ex-combatants in South Africa’, Sociology 49, no. 1 (2015): 72–87. 23 Kleykamp, ‘A Great Place to Start?’. 24 Kevin F. Gaw, ‘Reverse Culture Shock in Students Returning from Overseas’, International Journal of Intercultural Relations 24, no. 1 (2000): 83–104. 6.2 Military Veterans in South Africa 91 have a support structure or veterans’ association to turn to, or when they feel politically marginalised for having fought in an unpopular war.

6.2 Military Veterans in South Africa

The above findings resonate with the studies on the reintegration of military veterans in South Africa.25 However, before I expand on this, it is necessary to clarify the processes that led to demobilisation, rationalisation and reintegration, as well as who qualifies as a ‘military veteran’. Given that the SANDF consists of seven different integrated forces, it is not surprising that the definition of military veteran is very inclusive. The Military Veterans’ Act (18 of 2011) defines a military veteran as: A South African citizen who rendered military service to any of the military organisations, statutory and non-statutory, which were involved on all sides of South Africa’s Liberation War, from 1960 to 1994. A military veteran includes someone who served in the Union Defence Force before 1961; or became a member of the South African National Defence Force (SANDF) after 1994, has completed his/her military training and no longer performs military service, and has not been dishonourably discharged from that military organisation or force.26 This broad definition typically includes anyone who served in the military, including conscripts.27 While first disputed, they were retained on the national veterans’ database and could qualify for benefits if they met the means test.28 In post-apartheid South Africa, the need to compensate military veterans initially emerged during the demobilisation process. ‘Demobilisation’ was a term applied to the voluntary release of MK and APLA members who were not eligible to be integrated into the new SANDF based on age, education or ill-health, or who did not wish to be integrated.29 By February 1997, 3770 people had been demobilised and offered a severance package estimated at R50,000.30 This could clearly not sustain

25 Gear, Now that the War is Over; Sasha Gear, Wishing Us Away: Challenges Facing Ex-Combatants in the ‘New’ South Africa, Violence and Transition series. Johannesburg: Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, 2002; Heinecken and Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’; Markus Kostner and Edith H. Bowles. Veterans: Pensions and Other Compensation in Post- Conflict Countries (Washington, DC: World Bank, 2004); Guy Lamb, ‘From Military to Civilian Life’, Track Two 12, no. 1 (2003): 39–62; Mashike, ‘You Are a Time Bomb’. 26 Republic of South Africa, Military Veterans Act (18 of 2011), Government Gazette, 5 December 2011, https://www.gov.za/sites/default/files/gcis_document/201409/a182011.pdf, accessed 30 August 2019. 27 Wyndham Hartley, ‘Military Veterans Bill Passed for All Recruits’, Business Day, 17 August 2011. 28 Kim Helfrich, ‘National Servicemen to Stay on Veterans’ Database’, DefenceWeb, 27 February 2014, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/national-servicemen-to- stay-on-veterans-database/?catid=111%3Asa-defence, accessed 21 August 2019. 29 Tsepe Motumi and Andrew Hudson, ‘Rightsizing: The Challenges of Demobilisation and Social Reintegration in South Africa’, in Demobilisation and Reintegration of Former Combatants in Africa, ed. Jakkie Cilliers (Halfway House: Institute for Defence Policy, 1996), 119–122. 30 Van der Waag, A Military History of South Africa, 298. 92 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation them in meeting their future needs over the long term. Many did not have the skills or experience to find employment in the civilian workplace, where they needed to compete with others in an environment of high unemployment. Having just returned to the country, some felt disoriented, had to deal with both social and physical problems, and suffered from PTSD.31 Although they did receive limited counselling on personal matters, social services and finances, this did not prepare them for the transition to civilian life. An opportunity to join the Service Corps, set up in January 1995 to provide training in basic skills, life skills and adult literacy, was offered, but few signed on as the training was neither attractive nor market-related.32 This added to the discontent and demand for adequate compensation, later addressed through the Special Pensions Act (96 of 1996).33 The Act made provision for special pensions, based on years of service, to persons who made sacrifices or served the public interest in the cause of establishing a democratic constitutional order,34 but it did not provide a sustainable solution.35 However, these were not the only military veterans forced to reintegrate back into civilian society. Rationalisation was defined as the ‘reduction of the Regular Force to approved force levels through, inter alia, the retrenchment of military personnel following integration’.36 This occurred in three ways: through natural attrition due to death, resignations and non-renewal of short-term contracts; through Voluntary Severance Packages (VSPs); and Employer-Initiated Retrenchments (EIRs).37 During the period April 1994 to March 2000, many former SADF personnel took VSPs and went on early pension (see Table 6.1). The figures include members who left due to death, retirement and VSPs, retrenchment and misconduct from April 1994 to March 2000. In terms of the SANDF, 13,969 were resignations, 2498 were discharges, and 14,316 consisted of personnel who took VSPs. The aim was merely to get rid of these soldiers to make

31 Ibid. 32 Motumi and Hudson, ‘Rightsizing’, 122–126; Heinecken & Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’; Mashike, ‘You Are a Time Bomb’. 33 See Mashike (2004) for an overview of the problems associated with the Service Corps, the failure to provide sufficient training, and the inability to facilitate the economic integration of former MK and APLA soldiers. 34 According to the payment schedule stipulated in the Act, those above 35 but younger than 45 received R6000 plus R1200 for each year of service exceeding 5 years, but less than or equal to 20 years. Liberation veterans who were older than 45 but younger than 65 received R12,000 plus R1 200 for each year of service which exceeded 5 years, but who had served less than 20 years. Payment for those 65 years and older was R24,000, plus R1200 for each year of service. Where years of service exceeded 25, a fixed amount of 84,000 was given. 35 Heinecken and Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’, 34. 36 Republic of South Africa, White Paper on Defence [1996], 23. 37 Mashike, ‘You Are a Time Bomb’, 92. 6.3 Challenges of Civilian Reintegration 93

Table 6.1 Attrition figures Former force Total for the SANDF from April APLA 1243 1994 to March 2000 Bophuthatswana 1550 Ciskei 1207 KZSPF 253 MK 3885 SANDF 3093 SADF 40,901 Transkei 2071 Venda 126 Total 54,326 Source: Stott (2002) the SANDF ‘leaner and meaner’, without consideration of what would happen after they were gone.38 More than 20 years later, the plight of military veterans has become all the more apparent. In 2017, figures indicated that there were 67,718 military veterans registered on the database, of which the largest contributor is former SADF members (35,189), followed by the SANDF (12,836), MK (10,745), APLA (4316) and TBVC (2227). In terms of age grouping, the single largest group are former soldiers between the ages of 45 and 54. At 27,553, they make up around 40% of the total. Other age groupings with more than 10,000 registered veterans are 35–44 (14,927) and 55–64 (13,221). Just over 8000 veterans are 65 and older, with just under 4000 given at 35 years or younger. However, the reliability of the military veterans’ database is disputed.39 The verification of all military veterans on the database is an ongoing concern. For 2017/18, the Department of Military Veterans (DMV) set itself a target of having verified 90% of those on the database. The integrity of the database is also an ongoing concern as no electronic platform exists, which increases the potential for the abuse of the system.40

38 Motumi and Hudson, ‘Rightsizing’, 127–128. 39 DefenceWeb, ‘Military Veterans Budget Increases’, DefenceWeb, 29 February 2019, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/featured/military-veterans-budget-increases/, accessed 21 August 2019. 40 Department of Defence and Military Veterans, ‘Military Veterans & Dependents Education Support: Department & NSFAS Input: DMV Performance’, 7 March 2018, https://pmg.org.za/ committee-meeting/25924, accessed 21 August 2019. 94 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation

6.3 Challenges of Civilian Reintegration

6.3.1 Economic Integration

As previously discussed, economic reintegration is influenced by a range of factors that affect military veterans differently, depending on their level of skills, where they served in terms of branch, former force, for how long they served, and employer perceptions of veterans. The difficulties of economic integration of the former non- statutory forces has received much attention.41 Numerous reports show that unemployment rates among former MK/APLA members are particularly high, as well as those from the former KZSPFs. Cock reported that four studies showed that 72% were unemployed 10 years after integration.42 Their difficulty in finding employment related not only to their lack of skills but also to the fact that 60% did not have a Grade 12 (matric) certificate. Almost a third of those who joined the armed struggle were under 18 years at the time, and while some had received limited vocational training, few were interested in studying further.43 Evidence exists that some have been implicated in various violent crimes, including cash-in-transit heists, ATM bombings and farm murders.44 While some may turn to crime, others have become involved in mercenary activities.45 The most publicised are those from the former SADF who have continued to use their military skills in various ways in the private military and security sector.46 According to Senekal: Particularly soldiers from elite units such as Koevoet [a police unit], 32 Battalion, Paratroopers and Reconnaissance Commandos were expertly trained and experienced at fighting counterinsurgency. Their skills and experience were therefore well suited to the environment in which they were required to operate, while simultaneously their governments [new ANC government] could no longer accommodate these skills.47

41 Cock, ‘The Social Integration of Demobilized Soldiers’; Gear, Now that the War is Over; Gear, Wishing Us Away; Ian Liebenberg and Rialize Ferreira, ‘Loyal Service and Yet “Demobbed”: Demobilization and the Economic Reintegration of South Africa’s Demobilised Military Personnel’, Journal of Asian and African Studies 37, no. 3–5 (2002): 299–317; Ntsiki Motumi, ‘The Physical, Psychological and Welfare Needs of Former Non-Statutory Force Veterans’, African Security Review 6, no. 5 (1997): 1–9; Mashike, ‘You Are a Time Bomb’; Heinecken and Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’. 42 Jacklyn Cock, ‘Forging a New Army out of Old Enemies: Women in the South African Military’, Women’s Studies Quarterly 23, no. 3/4 (1995): 97–111. 43 Mashike and Mokabole, ‘Reintegration into Civilian Life’”, 18. 44 Heideman, ‘The Struggle for Democracy’; G. Shelton, A. Monyue, M. Simmons and R. Williams. Demobilization and its Aftermath I: A Profile of South Africa’s Demobilized Military Personnel, ISS Occasional Paper 59, 2001; Stott, ‘From the SADF to the SANDF’. 45 Magadla, ‘Women Combatants and the Liberation Movements’, 391. 46 Andy Clarno and Salim Vally. ‘IRAQ: The South African Connection’, CorpWatch, 6 March 2005, http://www.corpwatch.org/article.php?id=12061, accessed 21 August 2019. 47 Burgert Senekal, ‘The Controversy Surrounding Private Military Companies (PMCs): Looking Back on Executive Outcomes’, Contemporary History 35, no. 1 (2010): 176. 6.3 Challenges of Civilian Reintegration 95

One of the most notable employers in the early 1990s was Executive Outcomes, which employed more than 1500 veterans at its peak.48 Those with a Special Forces background seem to have found it less difficult to secure employment, although Lamb’s study established that about a third had struggled to find a job initially.49 Most found employment in the growing private military and security sector.50 In 2005, it was estimated that 5000–10,000 former South African military and police personnel were working for private military companies in Iraq and Afghanistan.51 This implies that despite the aggressive legislation prohibiting the involvement of South Africans in areas of armed conflict, this continues to be a source of employment for many former soldiers.52 The media has tended to focus on the mercenary type of activities, some of which are clearly illicit, but many veterans are involved in post-conflict reconstruction or protection services.53 Many of these former military personnel have started their own security and military companies that supply a range of services both internationally and national- ly.54 In South Africa, the private security industry has been one of the fastest-growing sectors, employing substantial numbers of civilian and former military personnel from all sections of the defence force.55 Others with technical and other market- related skills have been able to set up their own businesses using their severance packages, or have reskilled and found employment in the civilian sector. Yet, many have failed due to their lack of business experience. Interviews with former SADF military veterans revealed that many struggled to find work, or to hold on to employment due

48 David Smith, ‘South Africa’s Ageing White Mercenaries Who Helped Turn Tide on Boko Haram’, The Guardian, 14 April 2015, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/apr/14/south- africas-ageing-white-mercenaries-who-helped-turn-tide-on-boko-haram, accessed 21 August 2019. 49 Lamb, ‘From Military to Civilian Life’, 53. 50 Shannon Bosch and Marelie Maritz, ‘South African Private Security Contractors Active in Armed Conflicts: Citizenship, Prosecution and the Right to Work’, Potschefstroomse Elektroniese Regsblad 14, no. 7 (2011), http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pi d=S1727-37812011000700004, accessed 21 August 2019. 51 Clarno and Vally, ‘IRAQ: The South African Connection’. 52 The Regulation of Foreign Military Assistance Act (15 of 1998, hereafter the FMA) was the government’s hard-line response after Executive Outcomes made headlines around the world for their intervention in Sierra Leone in 1995. Eight years later, in response to concerns that the FMA was proving unworkable, the government promulgated the Prohibition of Mercenary Activities and Regulation of Certain Activities in the Country of Armed Conflict Act (27 of 2006, hereafter the PMA). While the PMA received the necessary presidential assent in November 2007, it has yet to achieve the presidential proclamation necessary for it to supersede the FMA and enter into force. Bosch and Maritz (2011) describe the various legal implications the PMA poses in terms of the rights of citizenship, prosecution and the right to work, which this legislation is seen to violate. 53 Senekal, ‘The Controversy Surrounding Private Military Companies’. 54 Clarno and Salim Vally, ‘IRAQ: The South African Connection’; Stott, ‘From the SADF to the SANDF’. 55 Victoria Eastwood, ‘Bigger Than the Army: South Africa’s Private Security Forces’, CNN, 8 February 2013, https://edition.cnn.com/2013/02/08/business/south-africa-private-security/index. html, accessed 21 August 2019; Lamb, ‘From Military to Civilian Life’, 57. 96 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation to their military habitus of being ‘too autocratic’.56 Others stated that they lacked the necessary decision-making and financial-planning skills needed to use and invest their money judiciously.57 A few of these veterans now live in an informal settlement outside Pretoria and live off donations, others on a farm donated by a former paratrooper, which now houses close to 50 veterans and their families.58 Another group of military veterans consists of the MSDS members, who serve in the SANDF for a minimum of two years, and are employed on short-term contracts. Kramm and Heinecken found that those who served in the infantry struggle to find employment, with options limited to poorly paid security work.59 Even in these jobs, they lag behind civilian counterparts because of their limited experience. Employment agencies, for example, stated that although military personnel often have good attributes such as discipline, being on time, teamwork and following instructions, their military habitus was sometimes problematic. One employment agency made this comment about a female former MSDS member: Some of these ‘guys’ are institutionalised (aggressive) they cannot work with others, they are crass and too aggressive in the workplace. Even the women have male traits that is not easily accepted in some workplaces. I have a lady who is working in security, but high-end stuff you know and even the clients have said that she is a bit much.60 Others were critical of the fact that MSDS members lacked initiative, needed supervision and could only be employed in highly regulated, bureaucratic environments.61 It is worth noting that although these young people have gone through what many conscripts did in the past, their circumstances are significantly different. During apartheid, the labour market offered more opportunities to white men and society; employers were also more accepting of militarised identities. For MSDS members, employment in the military is often an opportunity to lift them out of their poor socio-economic circumstances, a prospect that is significantly threatened by their inability to seamlessly reintegrate into workspaces outside of the military. The Defence Force Service Commission noted this as a concern and recommended that various accredited skills-training programmes be put in place to enable MSDS members to become gainfully employed rather than being trained only in military skills.62

56 Lindy Heinecken and Rialize Ferreira, ‘From Military Profession to No Profession: The Plight of White Unemployment Military Veterans in South Africa’, paper presented at the XIX ISA World Congress of Sociology, Toronto, Canada, 15–21 July 2018. 57 Ibid. 58 Erika Gibson‚ ‘Gewese “parabats” kry kibboets-hawe’, Rapport, 26 March 2017. 59 Neil Kramm and Lindy Heinecken, ‘We Are Different Now? The Effect of Military Service on Youth Reintegration and Employment in South Africa’, African Security Review 24, no. 2 (2015): 122–137. 60 Kramm, ‘Youth and Military Service’, 97. 61 Kramm and Heinecken, ‘We Are Different Now?’, 12. 62 Republic of South Africa, Defence Force Service Commission, Annual Report FY2015/2016, 36, http://pmg-assets.s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/DFSC_Annual_Report_2015_to_2016. pdf, accessed 21 August 2019. 6.3 Challenges of Civilian Reintegration 97

6.3.2 Social Reintegration

Another challenge facing military veterans is the ability to readapt to civilian life. Most soldiers continue to carry with them their military identity, which affects not only their economic integration but also their social reintegration into their families and communities. Maringira aptly sums this up when he says that the ‘unmaking [of soldiers] and turning them into civilians again is not only difficult, but requires a longer more complex process’.63 MSDS members report how they missed the structure and camaraderie the military provided, and how they struggled to maintain relationships with friends and family. An MSDS member expressed this as follows: [W]hen I am in my community I don’t feel comfortable, it’s like I don’t fit in here. My friends and I can’t relate to each other about the same things. We have different interests and they say I have changed. I just don’t want to mess round anymore like they do. I have pride and respect for myself in staying fit. Things that are not important for civilians I still see myself as an army man …64 This finding concurs with those of De Vries and Wiegink, and Elder and Clipp, who found that members experience difficulty maintaining relationships with significant others and family members immediately after an intense period of military training.65 Kramm refers to this as the reverse culture shock of having to readapt to the realities of civilian life.66 Members had a nostalgic view of what it would be like at home but ‘had forgotten the outside realities of conflict, violence, drugs, gang- sterism which they were sheltered from while in the military’. These were the experiences of many young veterans who continued to live in the country and who had contact with their families and friends. How much more difficult must it have been for those MK veterans returning from exile who expected to have a better life under democracy in South Africa? When MK and APLA combatants returned home, some received a hero’s welcome from their families, and their return symbolised their contribution to the achievement of democracy. Others experienced this as stressful, especially when their families had moved on, or had rejected them. Mashike and Mokalobe report that some even saw them as ‘terrorists or killers’, which resulted in their rejection, making them leave home.67 A study by Atlantic Philanthropies, titled Only Useful Until Democracy, states that of the 1200 veterans interviewed, 60% claimed that they were not able to form stable social relationships, and many reported suffering from high levels of post-traumatic stress; 56% still relived their experiences and had nightmares that kept them awake; 13% suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder

63 Maringira, ‘Militarised Minds’, 75. 64 Kramm and Heinecken, ‘We Are Different Now?’, 9. 65 De Vries and Wiegink, ‘Breaking up and Going Home?’; Elder and Clipp, ‘Combat Experience and Emotional Health’. 66 Kramm, ‘Youth and Military Service’, 106. 67 Mashike and Mokalobe “Reintegration into Civilian Life’, 28. 98 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation

(PTSD); and 17% had permanent physical injuries.68 Psychological, health and social problems are common among military veterans.69 Post-traumatic stress is typically under-reported among military veterans. Evidence of this among conscripts who served in the SADF between 1975 and 1993 is only coming to light now. PTSD is linked not only to combat exposure but also to participating in and witnessing atrocities, as well as to the actual experience of military service. Many former conscripts continue to bear the emotional and psychological wounds of their military service, as revealed by the study by Connell et al., who found that out of a group of 1572 conscripts, 33% displayed symptoms of PTSD.70 In my own experience of talking to former conscripts, many do not even wish to speak about their military experience, especially those who served in the Border War.71 This is why there was such resistance to the exclusion of conscripts under the definition of a ‘military veteran’. In an effort to remedy the effects of military service on veterans, the website of the Council of Military Veterans’ Organisations in South Africa hosts a special brief for national servicemen alerting them to signs of PTSD, which can become more acute with age.72 A former paratrooper, Mike Cronje, has established the In His Honour Outreach Foundation to assist former SADF veterans who have battled to reintegrate into society. Cronje reports how, for the members he supports, leaving the military not only meant losing a job but also often losing their families, wives, homes and extended support systems.73 Some of these veterans became alcoholics, suffered from drug addiction, and involved themselves in criminal activities after leaving the military. The purpose of the foundation is to bring former soldiers together and rebuild old bonds so that there is a wider social network of support. The support that the foundation offers includes providing assistance with job opportunities, food, medical assistance and even everyday struggles. This occurs in the absence of adequate state support, even though the Military Veterans Act makes provision for all those veterans whose income is less than R5000 per month.

68 Bill Corcoran, ‘Anti-Apartheid Veterans Left in the Lurch’, The Irish Times, 1 October 2011, http://www.irishtimes.com/news/anti-apartheid-veterans-left-in-the-lurch-1.611906, accessed 21 August 2019. 69 Cock, ‘The Social Integration of Demobilized Soldiers’; Lephophotho Mashike, Beyond the Armed Struggle: A Sociological Profile of Ex-MK Soldiers (Johannesburg: Group for Environmental Monitoring, 1999); Gear, Now that the War is Over; Heideman, ‘The Struggle for Democracy’. 70 Martin Connell et al., ‘Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Resilience in Veterans Who Served in the South African Border War’, African Journal of Psychiatry 16, no. 6 (2013): 433. 71 At one such occasion, during a dinner while discussing the writing of this book, a friend and former conscript now in his early fifties broke out in a sweat as he described how his experiences of military service and serving in the Border War still haunt him today. Were it not for a friend’s suggesting that he went for counselling, he does not know how he would have coped. 72 The Council of Military Veterans’ Organizations of the Republic of South Africa, https://www. cmvo.org.za/ 73 Heinecken and Ferreira, ‘From Military Profession to No Profession’. 6.4 Political Integration 99

6.4 Political Integration

Across the board, military veterans in South Africa feel neglected by government. A number of studies have shown the level of dissatisfaction and disillusionment of especially MK/APLA with the ANC government.74 Unlike the members of former statutory forces, MK members have continued their relationship and dependency on the party (ANC) for their survival, but feel neglected.75 A study conducted in 2011 showed that 73% believed that South Africa’s political leaders had forgotten them after apartheid, and 84% who received compensation felt that this was inadequate.76 Similarly, research by Heinecken and Bawlya found that military veterans feel neglected and abandoned by the ANC government and experience a sense of relative deprivation compared to those who now benefit from democracy.77 They believe that without them the ANC would not be where it is today, but they feel rejected by the government. Some regret having become involved in the struggle and having sacrificed their education and lives for the liberation of South Africa. There was a sense that those who remained in the country and did not go into exile are now in a better position, because they were able to continue with their schooling. This also affects their children, as one MK veteran explained: We cannot take our kids to school. Some of our kids have passed Grade 12, but we don’t have money for them to study further. MK has tried to assist us but they don’t have funds to give us bursaries. SANMVA and the Ministry of Defence and Veterans are our last hope.78 What these responses indicate is that the cycle of poverty and lack of opportunity based on the inability to obtain a decent education is perpetuated. Yet, these veterans have remained loyal to the ANC, especially under the Zuma administration, which promised to address the needs of military veterans. Some MK veterans even formed a militia to protect the ANC and indicated a willingness to take up arms against those who called for Zuma to step down. Southall warned that while the antics of the veterans may be harmless, ‘they are a chilling reminder of how Zimbabwe used armed militia to crush democracy’.79 President of the MK Military Veterans Association and former Deputy Minister of Defence and Military Veterans Kebby Maphatsoe has been a staunch supporter of Zuma and opposed those who called for his resignation.80

74 Roger Southall, ‘ANC’s Military Veterans Could Be a Threat to SA’s Democracy’, IOL, 13 April 2017, https://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/ancs-military-veterans-could-be-a-threat-to-sas-democracy-8654788, accessed 21 August 2019. 75 Mashike and Makolobe, ‘Reintegration into Civilian Life’, 30. 76 Corcoran, ‘Anti-Apartheid Veterans Left in the Lurch’. 77 Heinecken and Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’. 78 Ibid., 9. 79 Southall, ‘ANC’s Military Veterans Could Be a Threat to SA’s Democracy’. 80 amaBhungane and Scorpio, ‘GuptaLeaks: How Guptas Picked Up ANC Military Vets’ Conference Tab’, Daily Maverick, 18 July 2017, https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2017- 07-18-scorpio-amabhungane-guptaleaks-how-guptas-picked-up-anc-military-vets-conference- tab/#.WW-W5U2wfIW, accessed 21 August 2019. 100 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation

While MK veterans do not pose a threat to political stability in South Africa, one has to ask what the reaction would be if former SADF soldiers and conscripts were to conduct themselves in a similar manner in support of party political interests. Although Lamb reports that in the late 1990s, some white military veterans were involved in attempts to destabilise South Africa, no evidence of this exists at present.81 However, there is evidence that many SADF veterans feel angered because they fought for their country with honour and pride yet have nothing to show for it. At the same time, many harbour contempt for the present government given the political marginalisation they experience due to the effect of affirmative action and black economic employment. Smith argues that there is ‘a sense of grievance and resentment among ex-soldiers who perceive today’s South Africa as loaded against them’.82 Others again claim that these disillusioned and marginalised former white military veterans pose a security risk that could create political instability and threaten democracy.83

6.5 Compensating Military Veterans

Given the consequences that economic, social and political integration poses, most states have felt an obligation to compensate and support military veterans to facilitate their transition back into civilian life.84 A body of literature exists on this topic, highlighting the typical benefits, in the form of education, vocational training, housing benefits, job creation schemes, financial assistance, medical care and pensions—all of which may extend to dependants.85 In South Africa, military veterans from the former non-statutory forces in particular feel inadequately compensated for the sacrifices they made in their fight for democracy. They feel that they sacrificed their education for the liberation struggle and are angry about this, as reflected in the following quotation: This country was not liberated by educated people. Some of us left school and went into exile. And then when you come back, the people who were your enemies are now your superiors and they tell you that you are not educated. How can you be educated in a country

81 Lamb, ‘From Military to Civilian Life’. 82 Smith, ‘South Africa’s Ageing White Mercenaries’. 83 Bongani Mbinwane, ‘Soldiers for Hire: SA’s Greatest Security Risk’, Daily Maverick, 25 May 2015, https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/opinionista/2015-05-25-soldiers-for-hire-sas-great-security-risk/#.WXCBZ02wfIV, accessed 21 August 2019. 84 Christopher Dandeker et al., ‘What’s in a Name? Defining and Caring for “Veterans”: The United Kingdom in International Perspective’, Armed Forces & Society 32, no. 2 (2006): 161–177. 85 Chris Alden, ‘Making Old Soldiers Fade Away: Lessons from the Reintegration of Demobilized Soldiers in Mozambique’, Security Dialogue 33, no. 3 (2002): 341–56; Kostner and Bowles, Veterans; Lalli Metsola, ‘The Struggle Continues? The Spectra of Liberation Memory and “War Veterans” in Namibia’, Development and Change 41, no. 4 (2010): 596. 6.5 Compensating Military Veterans 101

that suppresses even the education? The education we were being given was suppressing us. It was totally different as compared to the people who benefited from apartheid.86 In 2009, in an attempt to address the needs of military veterans, the Department of Military Veterans (DMV) was created, attached to the DoD. The establishment of the DMV came about due to the increasing pressure of MK/APLA veterans on the state to address their needs, and from a resolution passed at the ANC’s Polokwane conference in 2007. The military veterans played a significant role in Jacob Zuma’s election as ANC leader at the conference, and he in return promised a comprehensive social package for former combatants.87 The adoption of the Military Veterans Act and the formation of the South African National Military Veterans Association (SANMVA) were intended to assist in the process of regulating veterans’ affairs. The formation of the SANMVA was an attempt by government to promote unity, cooperation and coordination among the different veterans’ associations. SANMVA plays an oversight role to the work done by the DMV in terms of service delivery, and makes recommendations on the socio-economic interests and welfare of military veterans and their dependants.88 However, the DMV is responsible for the overall management and administration of military veterans’ affairs, including developing legislation, policy, programmes, benefits and services that facilitate the transition from active service to civilian life. This has meant that the DMV, and increasingly the DoD itself, have become responsible for ensuring that military veterans receive the needed care and support as outlined in the Military Veterans Act. Those who sustained disabling injuries or severe psychological and neuro- psychiatric trauma, or who suffered from serious mental illness, PTSD and related conditions stemming from their participation in military activities can qualify for benefits subject to a means test. Other benefits include: education, training and skills development; facilitation of employment placement; facilitation of or advice on business opportunities; subsidisation of public transport; pensions; and access to health care, housing and burial support. The initial costing of the provision of these benefits is estimated to be in the region of R19.623 billion.89 One concern is that legitimate expectations are being raised without knowing the demand, which could lead to more instability if these expectations are not met.90 More concerning is the inability of the DMV to spend its allocated budget and roll out the benefits.

86 Heinecken and Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’, 38. 87 Anonymous, ‘Soldiers Wreck their Own Case’, Sunday Times, 6 September 2009. 88 SANMVA comprises of the following founder member organisations: Azanian People’s Liberation Army Military Veterans’ Association, Azanian National Liberation Army Military Veterans’ Association, Council of Military Veterans’ Organizations, uMkhonto we Sizwe Military Veterans’ Association, Bophuthatswana Defence Force Military Veterans’ Association, Ciskei Defence Force Military Veterans’ Association, Transkei Defence Force Military Veterans’ Association, and Venda Defence Force Military Veterans’ Association. 89 Lindiwe Sisulu, ‘Department of Defence and Military Veterans: Minister’s Budget Vote Speech’, briefing, 17 May 2012, https://pmg.org.za/briefing/18977/, accessed 21 August 2019. 90 Hartley ‘Military Veterans Bill Passed for All Recruits’. 102 6 Military Veterans: The Challenges of Reintegration and Compensation

Based on reports by the Parliamentary Monitoring Group, it appears as if this situation is largely due to the DMV’s lack of administrative capacity, staffing and ability, which has affected the roll-out of benefits to military veterans. For example, in the financial year 2015/16 the total amount allocated was R582,201, but there was a 40.1% rate of underspending. In terms of socio-economic support to veterans, only 51% of the budget was spent. This has led to slow delivery of houses to military veterans and allocation of bursaries to dependants, with no progress related to subsidised public transport and slow progress with respect to skills development.91 The DMV plans to provide 1000 houses to military veterans in 2018/19, 400 in 2019/20 and a further 500 in the following year. This compares to just 130 houses delivered in 2015/16. Whether this is achievable remains to be seen.92 Besides this, military veterans are entitled to health benefits through the SAMHS. The stress this places on the health-care system of the DoD is evident when one considers that 17,000 veterans were provided with access to health care in 2018/19, up from 16,673 the year before and 8264 in 2015/16.93 Other benefits include access to education and training bursaries to military veterans and their dependants. These have been increasing annually, from 5482 to 7702 in 2019, and were said to increase to 10,700 in 2018/19. A further 18,000 are expected to benefit from various training and skills development programmes at a projected cost of R244 million.94 The focus of compensation of military veterans has been almost exclusively on MK/APLA and only time will tell to what extent SANMVA, which claims to represent all veterans, will broaden its embrace to other veterans. According to the SANMVA, all veterans, including those who served in the SADF from 1960 to 1994, are entitled to benefits of R5800 pension per month, RDP housing worth R185,000, study loans of R20,000 per year for children and free medical aid. However, in interviews, representatives of the Council of Military Veterans’ Organisations claim that these benefits have not been extended to white veterans. The Military Veterans Act makes provision for all those veterans who have an income of less than R5000 per month to obtain assistance, but this has not been forthcoming. According to journalist Erika Gibson, there is ineptitude in the DMV, as well as a lack of political will to address the backlogs in applications from former SADF veterans.95 There is also the issue of the means test to decide who qualifies and for what benefits. This is bound to be a major point of contention as military veterans from across the spectrum come forward to claim benefits. The danger of the means test evoking a sense of relative deprivation and discontent should not be underestimated, especially where some veterans benefit more than others.96

91 Portfolio Committee on Defence and Military Veterans, ‘ATC161021: Budgetary Review and Recommendations’, 10. 92 DefenceWeb, ‘Military Veterans Budget Increases’. 93 Ibid. 94 Ibid. 95 Erika Gibson, email correspondence with author, 6 June 2018. 96 Heinecken and Bwalya, ‘Compensating Military Veterans’. 6.6 Conclusion 103

6.6 Conclusion

After the end of the Border War and demise of apartheid, the government was quick to set up a demobilisation, rationalisation and reintegration process. However, the last of these processes, namely, the reintegration of ex-combatants back into civilian society, has not received the same degree of attention as the first two. In many respects, military veterans are a vulnerable group whose ability to adapt to civilian life is influenced significantly by their military service. They not only lack transferable skills but also carry with them the lasting effects of military socialisation. Attempts at compensating military veterans are complex and can place an enormous burden on the state. In South Africa, one of the main challenges has been economic reintegration. Whether they are apartheid or post-apartheid veterans, many face challenges in accessing employment opportunities.97 As indicated in this chapter, difficult as these challenges may be to overcome, a failure to address the needs of military veterans can place a burden on society, such as when veterans turn to crime and illicit activities to survive, or when they become a political force that poses a threat to political stability. While mechanisms have been put in place to deal with the various needs of veterans, raising their hopes and expectations, the DMV is hard-pressed to roll out the promised benefits to military veterans. The department’s lack of staff and capacity to deal with the enormity of demands is becoming more arduous as time goes by. The promises made are extensive, and while the Military Veterans Act has the potential to improve the quality of life of veterans, ‘the challenge of adequate funding, human capital, ability to operationalise plans and monitor and evaluate its implementation are likely to impact on the delivery of the benefits and service to military veterans’.98 Within the ranks of the military veterans and the different veterans’ associations, there are many who are competing for these concessions and socio-economic benefits. It is unlikely that the SANMVA can contain the tensions between the various associations, given their diversity and political allegiances. The SANMVA, which is both an organ of civil society and a statutory body, has the uneasy task of being the united front for veterans, but lacks the unity, power or influence to control those it represents. A concern is that the different military veterans’ associations differ in their goals and objectives. The potential for military veterans to become a destabilising force is remote, but it depends on the way the government deals with military veterans across the spectrum. Given the enormous socio-economic challenges facing the government, how it manages and privileges military veterans will remain politically sensitive and contentious.

97 Heideman, ‘The Struggle for Democracy’, 162. 98 Henrietta Bwalya and Cheryl Hendricks, ‘The Military Veterans Act of 2011: Promising More Than Can Be Delivered?’, ISS Today, 21 May 2012, https://issafrica.org/iss-today/the-military- veterans-act-of-2011-promising-more-than-can-be-delivered, accessed 21 August 2019. Chapter 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration

The eradication of all forms of gender discrimination in South Africa necessitated the removal of barriers that excluded women from employment in the military. As elsewhere, this has been an issue of much debate and controversy. One position holds that the exclusion of women constitutes an act of discrimination and sexism, while another claims that the inclusion of women results in force degradation and the lowering of standards, which negatively affects deployment and the fighting capabilities of militaries.1 Beyond this, additional factors influence the inclusion and exclusion of women in the military, such as socio-cultural influences, the social structure of women’s civilian roles, and military variables associated with the level of threat and the nature of military missions.2 In South Africa, these debates and influences have had a profound effect on the extent to which women have been incorporated into the military, past and present. Despite the different military cultures of MK and the SADF, there are a number of parallels in the inclusion and exclusion practices of the respective armed forces. In both cases, there was a progressive incorporation of women over time as the security situation necessitated more manpower, although women continued to be excluded from combat roles and were under-represented in leadership positions.3 In the SADF, women served only in support roles, were trained separately, and were never deployed to the front line, mainly due to factors stemming from the social construction of gender roles. In contrast, women in MK trained alongside male

1 Stephan Maninger, ‘Women in Combat: Reconsidering the Case Against the Deployment of Women in Combat-Support and Combat Units’, in Women in the Military and in Armed Conflict, eds. Helena Carreiras and Gerhard Kümmel (Wiesbaden: Springer VS, 2008), 9. 2 Helena Carreiras, Gender and the Military: Women in the Armed Forces of Western Democracies (London/New York: Routledge Press, 2006), 12–17. 3 Cock, ‘Forging a New Army’, 99.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 105 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_7 106 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration soldiers and underwent the same training, although in practice they were relegated to support functions during the liberation struggle.4 With the advent of democracy, the need to address gender inequality and inclusion gained momentum. In practice, this meant the removal of all barriers that prevented women from assuming combat roles as well as the need to increase their representation and influence in decision-making roles. Over the years, the number of women in the military has grown, which has challenged the traditional gender binaries associated with masculinity and femininity. At the same time, this has given rise to new tensions around issues of equality and meritocracy, of valuing diversity and of transforming military culture. This chapter unpacks the debates associated with gender integration and how this has shifted over time from gender equality to gender mainstreaming. Additionally, the chapter pays attention to the debates around the re-gendering of the military due to the shift in emphasis from national to human security.

7.1 Intersections of Race and Gender

Although South Africa has a long history of women’s involvement in the military, it was not until the 1970s that women would serve in the military on a full-time basis. Their recruitment was due to an acute shortage of manpower during the Border War and not a feminist agenda based on equality. In 1971, the first group of women joined the military on a voluntary basis, essentially to relieve men for combat duties. In later years their roles expanded but remained restricted to non-combat support branches, such as finance, personnel, logistics, intelligence, medical service and welfare. They received their basic training separately from men at the South African Women’s Army College, but, other than adaptations in physical training, had to meet the same standards as men upon completion of this phase. However, they could not serve in combat roles, and weapons training was limited to self-defence. As such, they were never deployed on the front line, but instead served as instructors on weapons systems in the armour, artillery, anti-aircraft and even infantry branches (especially the equestrian branch).5 Numerous factors influenced the exclusion of women from combat roles. According to Meyer, this had more to do with the conservative attitudes of the broader society towards women than with the military itself.6 She states that during the 1970s, (white) South Africans were not ready to see women in a fighting role,

4 Jacklyn Cock, Colonels & Cadres: War and Gender in South Africa (Cape Town: Oxford University Press, 1991); Shireen Hassim, The ANC Women’s League (Scottsville: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2006); Lindy Heinecken, ‘Affirming Gender Equality: The Challenges Facing the South African Armed Forces’, Current Sociology 50, no. 5 (2002): 715–728. 5 E.M. Meyer, ‘Die Suid-Afrikaanse Vrou in Landsverdediging—Agtergrond en Perspektief’, Scientia Militaria 16, no. 2 (1986): 41. 6 Ibid., 44. 7.1 Intersections of Race and Gender 107 given that men performed the role of protector. This gendered division of labour served to maintain patriarchal values and notions of masculinity, reinforced by the emphasis placed on women to maintain their ‘feminine’ qualities and image as women. They were reminded that they were ‘women in uniform’, and were encouraged to uphold this image and to maintain high standards of dress; they were even taught how to use make-up in an effort ‘to retain their fine femininity’.7 In so doing, gender roles remained intact and the masculine image of the soldier as the ‘defender and protector’ was maintained..8 The situation was somewhat different for women serving in MK and APLA. Unlike their female counterparts in the SADF, they received infantry-type training and were accustomed to a military culture that emphasised equal rights for women.9 However, in practice they tended to serve more in support functions as couriers, in surveillance and reconnaissance and in bringing ammunition in and out of the country during the liberation war.10 Hence, one sees that between 1976 and 1990, the inclusion of women in both MK and the SADF was fuelled by levels of threat perception and manpower shortages. In both armed forces, women remained excluded from combat and were under-represented in positions of leadership and authority.11 These women would come out strongly in support of gender equality as the political and security situation in the country changed. With the formation of the SANDF the racial/gender composition changed fundamentally, and with this came the need to accommodate women from vastly different military, political, ideological and cultural backgrounds, although similarities were evident in terms of where they served and by rank.12 At the time of integration, only two white women held the rank of Brigadier-General and merely ten were colonels in the SADF. In MK, there was only one woman in a formally acknowledged leadership position, as head of communications.13 To correct these gender imbalances, an assertive affirmative-action programme was put in place to increase the number of women, both vertically across all ranks and horizontally across all branches.14 The

7 Esté Kotzé, ‘Historical Perspectives on Masculinity, Femininity and the South African Military: Gender Relations with Specific Focus on the Impact of the South African Army Women’s College and the SADF (1971–1998)’ (MA thesis, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, Stellenbosch University, December 2015). 8 Jacklyn Cock, ‘Manpower and Militarisation: Women and the SADF’, in War and Society: The Militarisation of South Africa, eds Jacklyn Cock and Laurie Nathan (Cape Town: David Philip Publishers, 1989), 62. 9 Cock, ‘Forging a New Army’, 105. 10 Cock, Colonels & Cadres; Hassim, The ANC Women’s League; Heinecken, ‘Affirming Gender Equality’. 11 Cock, ‘Forging a new army’. 12 Magadla, ‘Women Combatants’. 13 Jacklyn Cock, ‘Women and the Military: Implications for Demilitarisation in the 1990s in South Africa’, Gender and Society 8, no. 2 (1994): 155. 14 Adrian D. van Breda, Status of Women in the DoD: A Review of Women in the South African Department of Defence (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2010), 6–8. 108 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration

Chief Directorate Equal Opportunities (EOCD), formed in 1997, was tasked with monitoring and achieving the goal of gender equality. A renewed commitment to align the SANDF’s policies and practices with international, continental and regional obligations followed. This gained impetus with the subsequent implementation of the DoD’s Gender Mainstreaming Policy in June 2008. The policy stated that ‘the desired end state is the equal representation of women and men in all decision-making throughout the Department of Defence with the aim of effecting profound organizational and ultimately societal transformation towards the realisation of the de jure and de facto equality between men and women’.15 Henceforth, the motivation was not merely the integration of women in the military in terms of opening up opportunities hitherto denied to women, but rather the shifting of women’s needs from the margins to the centre of development, planning and resource allocation. The aim was to infuse a gender perspective in all policies, planning and reforms related to defence management and to increase the number of women in decision-making and in peacekeeping operations to 30%, while the recruitment target was set at 40%.16 The emphasis placed on gender equality and gender mainstreaming led to a progressive increase in the number of uniformed women serving in the SANDF. For example, at the point of integration in April 1994, women made up 11% of the uniformed component. This increased to 13% by 1999, 16% in 2004, 21% in 2009 and 25% in 2015.17 In 2018,18 excluding civilians, out of 63,761 uniformed members there were 17,176 women (27%) and 46,600 (73%) men.19 Associated with this was the rapid advancement of women up the ranks.20 Whereas in 1994 there were only 4% women in the senior ranks (Colonel to Lieutenant-General), this increased exponentially to 25% by 2018, amounting to 836 out of 3355 senior ranks. Table 7.1 represents the position of women in senior ranks by race. Besides the increase in women in senior ranks, there has also been a significant change in the race profile of women in these positions. Out of the 836 women serving in senior ranks, African women make up 55%, Asian 3%, coloureds 9% and whites, 33%.21 What is noteworthy in this regard is that prior to 1993 there were virtually no African women serving in the SADF, which implies that most of these women have come from the ranks of the former non-statutory forces. White women consist almost exclusively of those who joined and served in the SADF prior to

15 Department of Defence, Gender Mainstreaming Strategy, No 1 of 2008. CHR/TMCD/R/106/ (July) (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2008), 8. 16 Ibid., 4. 17 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’, 229. 18 In 2018, there were 73,844 people employed in the SANDF, of which 10,083 are Public Service Act personnel (civilians) not employed under the Defence Act. 19 Kobus Marais, statistics obtained from Minister of Defence and Veterans Affairs, National Assembly, 2018. 20 Van Breda, Status of Women in the DoD, 18. 21 Figures have been rounded off to the nearest decimal place. 7.1 Intersections of Race and Gender 109

Table 7.1 Breakdown by gender, rank and race (2018) Race African Asian Coloured White Total Gender M F M F M F M F General/Admiral 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 Lieutenant-General/Vice Admiral 8 0 0 0 0 0 0 8 Major-General/Rear Admiral 28 5 0 1 1 0 4 1 40 Brigadier-General/Rear Admiral (JG) 92 22 3 3 16 5 20 9 170 Colonel/Captain (SA Navy) 389 117 15 5 56 8 219 44 853 Lieutenant-Colonel/Commander 775 320 32 19 199 59 661 218 2283 Total 1293 464 50 28 272 72 904 272 3355

1993, who have risen up through the ranks but have not been the primary beneficiaries of affirmative action despite representing the majority of women integrated in 1994. These women have experienced gender integration differently due to the underlying tensions of race, class and gender. For white women, gender equality centres on equal opportunity and the removal of gender ascription. They generally feel less discriminated against because of their capabilities, especially where they are course-qualified and have tertiary education. For black women, especially black African women, discrimination on perceptions of competence, race and patriarchy exists. Many African women are subject to a patriarchal system that relegates them to a subordinate position. For example, Menon and Kotze found that white women feel less empowered and integrated because they are not considered professional ‘career’ soldiers.22 Black women experience subordination more in terms of traditional African culture, claiming that men find it difficult to take orders from women. Moreover, black African women also carry a heavier burden in terms of child-care responsibilities and experience greater levels of sexual harassment and abuse. This has an effect on gender relations and gender equality in the military, given that the majority of women now serving in the military are black Africans. Irrespective of race, this rapid increase in the number of women serving in the military has evoked concern among men. In an interview, a black Sergeant-Major in the infantry remarked: When I see all these ladies, I think where are we going with all these ladies? We are now overusing the men because the ladies are not the same. I do agree that we must not suppress women, but we have to look at the job that one is doing. I hate to deploy with ladies.23 While this comment should not be generalised, it reflects the tensions between equality and meritocracy, as well as how this affects masculinity and male bond- ing.24 Although many women now serve in the combat corps, the physical demands

22 Menon and Kotze, ‘Human Resource Integration’. 23 Interview with black male sergeant-major, Cape Town, 27 May 2015. 24 Van Breda, Status of Women in the DoD, viii; Lindy Heinecken, ‘Report on the findings of the Defence Gender Integration and Leadership’, unpublished report for Chief Directorate Transformation Management (13 February 2013), 3. 110 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration of the infantry and its masculine culture serve as a deterrent to women, many of whom have no desire to serve in this corps.25 In the SANDF, the drive to recruit 40% women has tended to overlook the selection criteria related to certain posts, which has meant that the right person-post-fit is undermined. Due to these pressures, recruiting officers will take in any woman who passes the basic entry requirements in terms of aptitude, medical and psychological tests, with no consideration for physical strength.26 Consequently, a good percentage of women who end up in the infantry do lack the physical capability necessary to meet training demands. Failure to recruit both men and women based on the right profile for the position leads to a lowering of standards, which has nothing to do with gender per se, but with selection.

7.2 Challenges of Gender Integration

7.2.1 Gender Equality, Inclusion and Resistance

As with many other militaries, the SANDF has approached gender integration from a typically gender-neutral perspective that affords equal opportunities to all who meet the required standards. This implies that as long as women (and men) meet the prescribed performance criteria, they can serve in any position within the military. Central to this is women’s (in)ability to meet the required physical standards.27 Conforming to the standards or job specifications is a deciding factor influencing women’s acceptance. Although few wish to return to gender-segregated training, as this would lead to double standards and perpetuate existing stereotypes,28 conforming to gender-neutral standards places women under considerable performance pressure in terms of their physical strength and endurance compared to men. Sexism can be perpetuated where women are seen as a ‘visible mass’ who are slower, less

25 In an interview with women in 9 SA Infantry Battalion, many mentioned that the infantry was their last choice but that they were sent to the infantry. One woman hit the table with her beret and said that she ‘hates the infantry’ with all her heart. 26 When the recruitment officers were asked about this, their comment was that it is not possible to test for physical strength due to the liabilities in terms of injury. Also, the youth (both men and women) are seen to lack physical strength and basic training is seen as the place where this is built up. 27 Emerald M. Archer, ‘The Power of Gendered Stereotypes in the US Marine Corps’, Armed Forces & Society 39, no. 2 (2013): 359–381; Cohn, The Evolution of the ‘Civil-Military Gap’ Debate; Maninger, ‘Women in Combat’; Rachel Woodward and Patricia Winter, ‘Gender and the Limits to Diversity in the Contemporary British Army.’ Gender, Work and Organization 31, no. 10 (2006): 45–67; Connie Brownson, ‘The Battle for Equivalency: Female US Marines Discuss Sexuality, Physical Fitness and Military Leadership’, Armed Forces & Society 40, no. 40 (2014): 765–788; Anthony King, ‘Women Warriors: Female Accession to Ground Combat’, Armed Forces & Society 41, no. 2 (2015): 379–387. 28 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Conceptualising the Tensions that Gender Integration Evokes: The South African Case’, Armed Forces & Society 43, no. 2 (2016): 1–19. 7.2 Challenges of Gender Integration 111 capable and in need of the support of men to perform certain functions. There are, however, some women who support gender segregation in order to challenge these stereotypes. A female major in the infantry had this to say: I would love to see a whole company of females, just females. The reason being as sometimes women are expected to hide one’s strength and be submissive to men because men are the head of the household. But, we can do the work that a man can do—perfectly—so if we are all females we will work wonders even more than when we work with the males because females, even at home, we like taking that advantage that I am a female and the male is there to comfort you, to say you are a woman that needs to be taken care of, but if we are all females you cannot be telling me you are having pain because we all share the same pain.29 What this quotation points out is that both patriarchy and femininity are exploited by women (and men), but that this affects the empowerment of women differently. If women have to prove themselves on their own, this would be empowering. However, within the military context they still need to behave and perform according to the standards typically set by men.30 As one female peacekeeper commented: ‘If those rebels see you … you must walk like a man, you talk like a man … behave like a soldier, not a woman and must always be aggressive.’31 Women typically need to suppress feminine traits such as being compassionate, sensitive and reconcilia- tory, and in turn display masculine attributes such as dominance, toughness and aggression if they are to be seen as ‘proper’ soldiers and not ‘ladies’ (as the male soldiers call them).32 But this is difficult, as within the military, masculinity is embedded in the training, the culture, the uniform and the technology. A young female corporal reflected: The flap-jackets don’t fit us, the trousers don’t fit us, nothing in this organisation is designed for women. The boots I wear are two sizes too big. I wear size 3 and there are no army boots that are size 3, so I have to wear extra socks and it is so difficult to walk in these big boots. You just don’t have a choice, you must just cope. Because your boots don’t fit your feet, they become swollen and your toenails become blue. They say it is a man’s world. We challenge this but … eish [expression of exasperation] … nothing happens.33 Another female soldier went on to say They even give you underwear which fit everyone at this force, the guys must wear it and the women. Where do you draw the line? There’s no panties, they’re onties [male underwear] – it’s warm – I mean it’s not for women, if you wear that thing … imagine! It says one size fits all.34

29 Interview with black female captain, 26 May 2015. 30 Sabine T. Koeszegi, Eva Zedlacher and Rene Huudrisbusch, ‘The War Against the Female Soldier? The Effects of Masculine Culture on Workplace Aggression’, Armed Forces & Society 24, no. 2 (2014): 230. 31 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’, 232. 32 Hayley Lopes, Militarized Masculinity in Peacekeeping Operations: An Obstacle to Gender Mainstreaming, PeaceBuild background paper, 2011, https://peacebuild.org/Lopes%20web- site%20ready.pdf, accessed 21 August 2019; Helena Carreiras, ‘Gendered Culture in Peacekeeping Operations’, International Peacekeeping 17, no. 4 (2010): 471–485. 33 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’, 243. 34 Angela Alchin, ‘Are Women Making a Difference in Peacekeeping Operations? Considering the Voices of South African Women Peacekeepers’ (MA thesis, Department of Political Science, Stellenbosch University, 2015). 112 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration

While there are now active attempts to address such shortcomings, the quote reflects the basic challenges of fitting into an environment designed and structured for men. Despite the commitment to gender equality, women continue to feel ‘othered’ due to their physical difference and the perceived inability of women to cope with stressful situations. Various studies conducted among uniformed personnel in the SANDF indicate that men still think that women lack the physical courage and bravery of men, and are unable to deal with the horrors of war.35 In order to be respected soldiers, women need to conform to the given standards and assimilate masculine values.36 But, as Duncanson and Woodward state, women never quite manage this, resulting in their not being treated as equal, and the strategy of ‘same- ness’ ultimately leaves ‘masculine norms unchallenged’.37 There is an inherent unfairness built into the liberal equal-rights approach to gender integration, given the biological differences between men and women.38 Where women dilute their femininity, and act and behave like men, this can create dissonance leading to attrition, especially in the combat branches. However, there are other issues that influence gender integration in the military, linked to the more people-centric approach to security. This requires a more equitable balance of traditionally masculine and feminine attributes where soldiers are deployed in roles that require a conciliatory approach to security.39

7.2.2 Valuing Difference and Peacekeeping

UN Security Council Resolution 1325, calling for the increased deployment of women on peacekeeping operations, is premised partly on the ‘valuing diversity’ argument, based on the unique contribution women can make ‘as women’. While essentialist, the argument is that certain ‘feminine’ qualities, such as being more compassionate, affectionate, sensitive, peace-loving and tolerant, can improve peacekeeping operations.40 These qualities, some claim, give women a ‘female advantage’ that makes them ‘more effective than men in conflict resolution and

35 Van Breda, Status of Women in the DoD. 36 Helena Carreiras, ‘From Loyalty to Dissent: How Military Women Respond to Integration Dilemmas’, In Women in the Military and in Armed Conflict, eds. Helena Carreiras and Gerhard Kümmel (Wiesbaden: Springer VS, 2008), 175. 37 Claire Duncanson and Rachel Woodward, ‘Regendering the Military: Theorizing Women’s Military Participation’, Security Dialogue 47, no. 1 (2016): 6. 38 Brownson, ‘The Battle for Equivalency’; Cohn, The Evolution of the ‘Civil–Military Gap’ Debate. 39 Soeters, Winslow and Weibull, ‘Military Culture’, 252. 40 Brenda M. Woodhill and Curtis A. Samuels, ‘Desirable and Undesirable Androgyny: A Prescription for the Twenty-First Century’, Journal of Gender Studies 13, no. 1 (2004): 18. 7.2 Challenges of Gender Integration 113 decision-making, even though they may be less effective than men in combat’.41 This feeds into other arguments claiming that the inclusion of more women improves relations with the local population, reduces the incidence of sexual and gender- based violence (SGBV), builds the capacity of local women, breaks down traditional views that discriminate and marginalise women, and is more able to defuse potentially violent situations and improve community security.42 These arguments place pressure on the military to deploy more women on peacekeeping missions. In the SANDF, around 14% of those deployed on peacekeeping missions in 2015 were women (429 out of a total of 3057).43 There is some evidence to support the idea that, especially when interacting with the local population, having more women in peacekeeping operations is beneficial. A black male company commander had this to say: You can see the locals’ attitude when there are no women and just men, the attitude is different. Although they [women] are trained just as men, when interacting with the locals you will see that the women are much more comfortable to speak to them. Because the people who are suffering are not the men, it is the women and the children. Now when they see the women peacekeepers, they become more comfortable. Also, most of the NGOs are women- heavy, because women can relate better with them. People who are causing the trouble are males in these countries. This is not to say that there are not women rebels, but the majority are men.44 Many of the male soldiers interviewed supported the contention that having more women is an advantage in peacekeeping operations and that it makes them look at things from a different point of view. The inclusion of more women also sends out a positive message to the countries within which they are deployed that women can not only serve in the military but are also essential in peacekeeping operations where soldiers have to engage with the civilian population. However, in practice this is context-specific. A range of factors, including language, culture and race, as well as the legitimacy of the peacekeeping forces, influences their optimal utilisation. Although agreement exists that women peacekeepers are better at interacting with the local community, and especially with women and children, this depends on where they are deployed. A study of female South African peacekeepers returning from missions in Africa found that in the DRC they could reach out to women and children more readily. This was because ‘Sousa’ (as the locals call the South African contingent), unlike the other contingents, consisted mostly of black Africans and could understand Swahili. This was not the case in Darfur/Sudan. Here, it was as if the local population (especially the local women) were afraid to speak to the peacekeepers, whether

41 Joshua Goldstein, War and Gender (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 41. 42 Henry F. Carey, ‘Women and Peace and Security: The Politics of Implementing Gender Sensitivity Norms in Peacekeeping’, International Peacekeeping 8, no. 2 (2001): 49–68; Nadine Puechguirbal, ‘Discourses on Gender, Patriarchy and Resolution 1325: A Textual Analysis of UN Documents’, International Peacekeeping 17, no. 2 (2010): 172–187. 43 Department of Defence, ‘South African National Defence Force Transformation Status’. 44 Interview with black colonel, Cape Town, 26 May 2015. 114 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration men or women.45 What this indicates is that not only gender but also race, the ability to speak the local language and respect for the local culture are crucial determinants in fostering relations with the local community. Another advantage of having more women deployed on peacekeeping missions is the influence they may exert on the conduct of male soldiers. Numerous studies suggest that female peacekeepers may act as a deterrent to poor or illegal behaviour by male peacekeepers, and that they are able to limit the incidences of sexual violence and abuse by males.46 However, these claims are disputed, with others saying that women’s presence does not serve as a deterrent when it comes to the abuse or exploitation of local women.47 Schoeman, for example, points out that despite the presence of a large number of female South African peacekeepers, reports of sexual abuse of locals by South African peacekeepers are considerably higher than among peacekeepers from other troop-contributing countries.48 South African female peacekeepers state that while they may have some effect on the conduct of male soldiers when on patrols, this does not extend to their behaviour when off-duty. Added to this, the expectation for women to ‘police’ their male colleagues can result in additional resentment and discrimination against them.49 In terms of improving the security of local women and children, female peacekeepers felt that locals placed more trust in male soldiers because they do not know how to judge female soldiers. Affecting their ability to make a difference is that few in the peacekeeping force understood the specific security concerns of local women. In its mission-readiness training, the SANDF pays little attention to gender dynamics and power relations within host societies. Thus, military women (and men) had little understanding of the effect of patriarchy and cultural norms on the security of local women. In fact, most knew little if anything about the gender dynamics in these communities, and in some cases there was a general lack of cultural awareness. This influenced their ability to deal with, identify and address the security needs of women, as well as how to deal with cases of sexual violence.50 Consequently, female soldiers deployed on UN peacekeeping missions generally feel insufficiently prepared to deal with the gender issues arising in the mission area.51

45 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’. 46 Heidi Hudson, ‘Mainstreaming Gender in Peacekeeping Operations: Can Africa Learn from International Experience?’ African Security Review 9, no. 4 (2000): 18–33; Anu Pillay, Gender Peace and Peacekeeping: Lessons from Southern Africa, Institute for Security Studies Paper no. 128 (2006). 47 Dyan Mazurana and Eugenia Piza-Lopez, Gender Mainstreaming in Peace Support Operations: Moving Beyond Rhetoric to Practice (London: International Alert, 2002), 33. 48 Maxi Schoeman, ‘Gender and Peacekeeping’, in Gender, Peace and Security in Southern Africa: Workshop Report, compiled by Cheryl Hendricks and Siphokazi Magadla, 22–23 November 2010 (Pretoria: Institute for Security Studies, 2010). 49 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’, 234. 50 Ibid. 51 Georgina Holmes, ‘Female Military Peacekeepers Left Feeling Overwhelmed After Inadequate Training’, The Conversation, 29 May 2019, http://theconversation.com/female-military-peacekeepers-left-feeling-overwhelmed-after-inadequate-training-114887, accessed 21 August 2019. 7.2 Challenges of Gender Integration 115

Other factors influence the performance and utilisation of women in peacekeeping operations. Physically, their lack of physical strength and endurance on foot patrols is a liability. Psychologically and emotionally, the operational environment is seen as more taxing on women, given the extreme forms of sexual violence against women and the resulting effect on their mental resilience. Added to this, men (and some women) perceive women as a ‘gendered’ security risk, especially in hyper-masculine contexts where women serve as weapons of war. As such, women face many different forms of gender discrimination, including sexism and gender harassment, that denigrate them and affect gender equality. This is aptly demonstrated by the comment of a white female army captain serving on a peacekeeping operation in the DRC: They are not interested in my work, or how capable I am. They would rather speak to my Lieutenant. They simply ignore you. In another incident, an officer from FARDC came to me and told me straight, I will respect you for your rank, but that’s all that I will do. This is because I am a woman. It has nothing to do with how efficient I am. What he was actually saying is that he will not deal with me. In Africa, women are just not respected and there is nothing you can do about it.52 She went on to explain how this same person immediately saw her as someone to have sex with: ‘There is this ugly practice in our environment, that when you greet a woman and shake her hand you will tickle the inside of her palm. This is an invitation to have sex. Nearly all the Congolese men did this when greeting me.’ Here one sees how patriarchy, sexism and hyper-masculine behaviour feed into the peacekeeping context that affects the ability of women to function as equals, or to perform their tasks efficiently.53

7.2.3 Re-Gendering Military Culture

At the crux of managing gender integration today where armed forces are being compelled to recruit more women, is precisely the recognition that women are different. However, this is compromised where military culture denigrates women and expects them to assimilate masculine norms and values as the only way of being a competent soldier. Merely fitting into the masculine organisation and exchanging major aspects of their gender identity, without men having to do likewise, maintains the gender gap.54 This is shown in the following comment by a female Army Lieutenant-Colonel: To be accepted as a competent leader one has to lose one’s womanhood and act like a man to get noticed and heard, but women do not want to be like men, or do what men do. They

52 Interview with white female Army captain. 53 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’; Higate, ‘Peacekeepers, Masculinities and Sexual Exploitation’. 54 Goldstein, War and Gender, 41. 116 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration

[women] want to be equally respected and utilised within their own capabilities, cooperat- ing to give better end results, different roles and contributions.55 Essentially, what she is arguing for is the need to respect women for their contribution, without them having to dilute their femininity. This entails not only embracing diversity but also dismantling those structures, practices and cultures that disempower women. At the heart of this is not only the privileging of masculinities but also the negative effects of sexism and patriarchy. In highly patriarchal societies like South Africa, these continue to define and influence gender relations in the military. Typically, where women threaten the power relations of men, this evokes different forms of resistance and discrimination. In everyday life, women in the SANDF report how they experience their leadership or authority as affected by increased scrutiny, sabotage, sexual harassment, social isolation and exclusion. Van Breda, for example, found that: Women reported that men actively undermine women’s authority or ignore their instructions. They believe men feel threatened by women in authority, citing culture as a common reason why men cannot tolerate women having authority over men. They experience men to be unduly intolerant of mistakes made by women leaders and report that men assume women in authority slept their way to these positions. Men on the other hand tend to believe that women are not capable of being good leaders and leverage a range of criticisms against women leaders—they are too harsh, too laissez-faire, too insecure—and thus men will undermine or disobey them.56 As the above quotation shows, sexism remains rife in the military and women experience various forms of sexual harassment that remain under-reported due to a lack of faith in the existing mechanisms to address these. Undoubtedly, this has a negative effect on their morale and career. Conversely, both men and women express concern over the use of sexuality, especially by younger women, to obtain favours from senior ranks.57 Frequent mention is made of ‘those women’ who have affairs or relationships with senior ranks and use this to ‘get away’ with things. This has a negative effect on the image of women in the military in general, but also on military discipline. While it is difficult to establish the extent of this, it is clear that both men and women perceive this as something that affects the status of women in the military.58 Yet at other times, women’s sexuality is viewed as an ‘attribute’ that could benefit military objectives. A black female sergeant explained: A woman can talk to a man and can soften his heart. For example, one lady Lieutenant was able to speak to the rebels, she was a female but the male could not soften his heart and the rebel leader was convinced and it led to a ceasefire. The women are very good at getting information from foreign country people, you disguise yourself as if you want a relationship, but you are just gaining information. Sometimes one’s femininity helps, it does, really seriously.59

55 Interview with woman army lieutenant-colonel. 56 Van Breda, Status of Women in the DoD, xiii. 57 Ibid. 58 Ibid. 59 Interview with black female sergeant, Cape Town, 26 May 2015. 7.2 Challenges of Gender Integration 117

Then again, it counts against them where viewed as possible victims of sexual abuse or rape. Soldiers reported how they tried to avoid going into the ‘red’ (dangerous) areas when they had many women in their sections, or kept the women less visible in the armoured vehicles. These vulnerabilities are underscored by either not deploying women to dangerous areas, or by asking them to conceal their identity, as described by a female peacekeeper: I think our guys feel that we are a security risk—rape and so on … so they hide us in the Mamba [armoured personnel carrier] in order for the rebels not to see us. This means that you as a woman are also maybe putting that section’s life in danger because those rebels won’t be happy with the fact that there are women.60 What this indicates is that the threat of rape and the vulnerability of women are reinforced by telling women that they need to be responsible for avoiding any behaviour that could potentially incite the rebels. Women themselves often buy into the narrative that their presence makes the section or platoon vulnerable, or that this places an additional burden on men to serve as their protectors, especially in contexts like Sudan where women soldiers were seen to challenge gender norms. Male peacekeepers reported that in Darfur/Sudan they were targeted by the Janjaweed because they knew South Africa had female peacekeepers. When asked why, they stated that it was because the rebels considered it disrespectful to their culture to have female soldiers. The consequence is that female peacekeepers are seen to pose a ‘gendered’ security risk, not only by weakening the capacity of sections and platoons but also by making them more vulnerable to attack. Such discourses, that define women as weak and physically vulnerable, and incapable of protecting themselves, erode women’s agency and keep women ‘in their place’.61 Ultimately, this affects the ability of women to contribute equally to the military and contributes to the notion of men as defenders and women as passive victims. In this regard, both the threat of rape and the potential political consequences justify the restrictions on the utilisation of women in peacekeeping. In this way, old stereotypes are not only replicated but also used to undermine the prospect of an equal partnership between men and women in peacekeeping.62 Furthermore, women are ‘othered’ when their civilian identities as ‘ladies’ and ‘mothers’ are perceived as superior to their military identity.63 A range of issues relating to women’s reproductive roles in society, including menstruation, preg- nancy, child care and family responsibilities, are cited as having a negative impact on the military and why the number of women in the military should be limited.

60 Heinecken, ‘Are Women “Really” Making a Unique Contribution?’, 246. 61 Rose Weitz, ‘Vulnerable Warriors, Military Women, Military Culture, and Fear of Rape’, Gender Issues 32, no. 3 (2015): 164–168. 62 Annica Kronsell, ‘Gendered Practices in Institutions of Hegemonic Masculinity’, International Feminist Journal of Politics 7, no. 2 (2005): 280–298. 63 Nina Wilén and Lindy Heinecken, ‘Regendering the South African Army: Inclusion, Reversal and Displacement’, Gender, Work and Organisation 25, no. 6 (2018): 670–686. 118 7 Gender Equality: The Complexities of Gender Integration

However, what is interesting is that women’s civilian identities are central attributes that enable them to contribute something unique to the military. A female Lance- Corporal said: You need women that can deal with the problems that the other (local) women are facing. You take care of children who are crying, but you are thinking about your kids. Men don’t get that emotional.64 The fact that these ‘feminine’ qualities associated with motherhood are linked to female bodies cements the idea of the qualities as being ‘natural’ and ‘unchangeable’.65 In so doing, it undermines the potential for a revaluation or a re-gendering of gender norms in the military, implying that men supposedly cannot acquire these qualities because of their biological sex. There can only be a reform of military culture where soldiers are able to engage in whatever behaviour is most appropriate, irrespective of their sex and gender in relation to their duties. As Judith Butler argues, gender is performed and promoted by obligatory norms, but when challenged opens up the possibility of remaking a gendered reality along new lines.66 Ultimately, this means challenging the gender binaries that exist in the military to enable soldiers to acquire a new identity other than that embodied in the warrior ethos, which affects their performance as soldiers in a range of different roles.

7.3 Conclusion

This chapter intertwined theory and practice to highlight the challenges and tensions that gender integration poses from different perspectives within the SANDF. These relate to issues of gender equality and meritocracy, as well as how to accommodate gender difference and alternative values. The argument is that the management of gender from a gender-neutral perspective cannot bring about gender equality, as it obliges women to conform to and assimilate masculine traits. This affects women’s ability to function as equals, especially where feminine traits are not valued, where militarised masculinities are privileged, and where women are ‘othered’ in various ways that reinforce patriarchy. In the SANDF, one sees how this discourse on women’s inherent weakness, suitability for combat, sexuality, vulnerability and civilian identities continues to exist and subordinate women in similar, but also different ways as their numbers increase. While the SANDF has made great strides in improving the number of women serving in the military, the ultimate goal of gender mainstreaming, that is, the transformation of gender norms in the military, remains elusive. The increased presence of women ‘has not translated into processes that tackle gendered inequalities and

64 Interview with female lance-corporals, Cape Town, 27 May 2015. 65 Carol Cohn, Women and Wars (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2013), 6. 66 Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (London: Routledge, 2007). 7.3 Conclusion 119 contribute to the transformation of the military’.67 Women continue to come up against a barrage of challenges that prohibit them from infusing alternative values into military culture. The only way to challenge this is for women to adopt a more assertive stance in order to influence organisational practices and decision-making. However, few are prepared to adopt this ‘risky strategy’ as it may result in their effective segregation, ‘either imposed from the outside or self-induced’.68 Few women in the SANDF have been willing to take on this position. The easier option has been to ‘perform’ and stylise their behaviour in accordance with the identity practices of the masculine image of the (combat) soldier. Sasson-Levy cap- tures this performative aspect when she says that women in the military typically have to ‘shape their gender identities according to the hegemonic masculinity of the combat soldier through three interrelated practices: the mimicry of combat soldiers’ bodily and discursive practices; the need to distance themselves from traditional femininity; and to trivialise sexual harassment’.69 This is certainly the case in the SANDF. However, this ‘hinders the displacement of gendered dichotomies which is necessary to bring about a transformative change in the manner in which military personnel are socialised into becoming soldiers, in accordance with the roles they are expected to perform today’.70 Consequently, one cannot say that gender equality and the goals of gender mainstreaming are fully realised in the SANDF. Although one does see a shifting of gender binaries as the performative act of being a soldier transcends sex and gender, this has not shifted the power dynamics sufficiently to bring about a transformation in gender relations. Nonetheless, women in the SANDF are claiming their space in the military, but this is ‘continuously challenged in their lived experiences’. As Van Breda states, only ‘time will tell whether the SANDF is able to make the transition from a hegemonic masculinity to some other form of identity that is more inclusive of a range of masculinities and femininities’.71

67 Duncanson and Woodward, ‘Regendering the Military’, 13. 68 Carreiras, Gender and the Military, 181. 69 Orna Sasson-Levy, ‘The Military in a Globalized Environment: Perpetuating an Extremely Gendered Organization’, in Handbook of Gender, Work and Organization, eds. Emma L. Jeanes, David Knights and Patricia Y. Martin (Chichester: Wiley, 2011), 440. 70 Duncanson and Woodward, ‘Regendering the Military’, 13. 71 Adrian D. van Breda, ‘Women Claiming Space in the Military: The Experiences of Female South African Soldiers’, Journal of Human Ecology 53, no. 1 (2016): 27. Chapter 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS

By the late 1980s high rates of the Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV), which leads to Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS), emerged in southern Africa. Estimates were that the region accounted for more than 70% of global HIV cases reported. With many infected with the virus, the effect on the economically active population was evident and evoked concern given the widespread ramifications. In 2000, the UN Security Council declared HIV/AIDS not merely a health and development crisis but also a security threat ‘as destabilizing as any war, that threatens not just individual citizens, but the very institutions that defend society— the military’.1 Reports indicated that HIV infection rates were as high as 60% in some African countries.2 In a seven-country comparative study in 1996 (covering Botswana, Kenya, Malawi, Tanzania, Uganda, Zambia and Zimbabwe) AIDS- related illnesses were already found to be the leading cause of death in the military, accounting for more than half of in-service and post-service mortality.3 In the early 1990s in South Africa, this did not immediately raise the alarm, as infection rates prior to 1989 were comparatively low.4 However, within the military there was a growing awareness of the disease, but no person integrated into the new SANDF was subject to HIV testing even though many had lived and deployed in

1 Richard C. Holbrooke, ‘Battling the AIDS Pandemic’, Global Issues: An Electronic Journal of the U.S. Department of State 5, no. 2 (2000): 9–11; Stefan Elbe, ‘Should HIV/AIDS be Securitized? The Ethical Dilemmas of linking HIV/AIDS and Security’, International Studies Quarterly 50, no. 1 (2006): 119–144. 2 UNAIDS, ‘On the Front Line: A Review of Policies and Programmes to Address HIV/AIDS Among Peacekeepers and Uniformed Services’, UNAIDS Series: Engaging Informed Services in the Fight Against HIV/AIDS (2003), 5, http://www.unaids.org/sites/default/files/media_asset/ jc950-frontline_en_0.pdf, accessed 22 August 2019. 3 H. Jackson, ‘The Quintessential AIDS in the Workplace Issue’, SAfAIDS News Bulletin (June 1996): 5. 4 UNAIDS, ‘Twenty Years of HIV/AIDS’, United Nations, 2001, http://www.unaids.orf/fact_ sheets/files/AIDStwenty_en.html. Accessed 22 August 2019.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 121 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_8 122 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS countries in the region with high infection rates.5 The extent of HIV infection only became known 10 years later, in 1999, when the results of a comprehensive health assessment (CHA) during Exercise Blue Crane revealed that 13.7% of members had tested HIV-positive.6 At the time, media speculation held this to be an underesti- mate, claiming that infection rates were closer to 40% and as high as 90% in some infantry units in KwaZulu-Natal.7 Irrespective of the accuracy of these statistics, it prompted the SANDF to declare HIV/AIDS a matter of strategic importance in 1999 and the single greatest threat to the deployment potential and operational effectiveness of the SANDF.8 A simple review of the DoD annual reports shows the vast amount of financial and human resources invested to mitigate the effects of the disease. In this chapter I discuss how attitudes and policies towards HIV/AIDS have evolved and been transformed. The first section presents a broad overview of how the disease erodes organisational and operational effectiveness of militaries in general. The focus then shifts to how the SANDF has dealt with and prevented the spread of the disease, as well as the more contentious issue of HIV testing as a ‘fair labour practice’. The final section reflects on issues related to the deployment of HIV-positive members on peacekeeping operations, as well as the wider ramifications for military families infected and affected by this disease.

8.1 The Impact of HIV/AIDS on the Military

In societies most affected by HIV/AIDS, the military is often the hardest hit. Throughout the world, military personnel are a high-risk group for both infection and the transmission of HIV/AIDS due to the nature of military work, the age group concerned and a culture of risk-taking by military personnel.9 Along with this are the circumstances under which military personnel deploy. Bachelor conditions, alcohol abuse and regular pay and opportunities for casual sex all contribute to their vulnerability. This is heightened where they deploy in socially disrupted conflict zones for lengthy periods, where HIV infection rates are high and where sex as a

5 Robert Shell, ‘Halfway to the Holocaust: The Economic, Demographic and Social Implications of the AIDS Pandemic to the Year 2010 in the Southern African Region’, in HIV/AIDS: A Threat to the African Renaissance, Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung Occasional Paper, June 2000. 6 Defence (Joint NA and NCOP) Committee, ‘Defence Review: Department Briefing Meeting Minutes’, 17 August 2004, https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/3808/, accessed 22 August 2019. 7 Paul Kirk, ‘60% of SA Army May be HIV Positive’, Mail & Guardian, 4 July 2002. 8 Heinecken, ‘Facing a Merciless Enemy’, 285. 9 UNAIDS, ‘United Nations Report on the Global HIV/Aids Epidemic’, United Nations, 1999, 3, http://www.unaids.org/epidemic_update/report/index.html, accessed 22 August 2019. 8.1 The Impact of HIV/AIDS on the Military 123 commodity is traded as a survival strategy by vulnerable women.10 Not least is the nature of military culture, which is highly masculine, involves risk-taking, and in which sexual prowess is admired and encouraged.11 A culture of hyper-masculinity, in which unprotected sex is a sign of virility and compensation for the emotional aridity of professional military life, is conducive to the spread of HIV/ AIDS. Associated with this is the abuse of and violence against women, which contributes to their vulnerability and the spread of the disease.12 The effect of high infection rates on the military is multilayered. It is claimed that where armed forces have high infection rates, this erodes the command cadre, leaving a leadership vacuum. Militaries in other African countries cite how this has led to a hollowing-out of the military, resulting in younger personnel fulfilling these roles, or placing an additional burden on senior officers.13 In addition, where large numbers of people are infected, it affects the quality of human resources due to a reduction in performance levels, as absenteeism, sick leave, early retirement and attrition all increase.14 The knock-on effect is an increase in operational costs, as it makes it difficult to deploy cohesive units and diverts funds away from other sectors, such as training and maintenance.15 These effects are most acute where the disease has been prevalent for a long time and where HIV prevalence rates are unmonitored and poorly managed. Where there has been active management of the disease, these effects are mitigated. As De Waal et al. point out, the long-wave nature of the disease means there is a lengthy period between HIV infection and when the soldier becomes symptom- atic with AIDS and unable to perform his or her duties.16 Therefore, the military has time to identify the most vulnerable sectors or branches, and to prepare and train personnel for critical posts. Another factor that mitigates the actual impact is personnel turnover, especially where personnel are employed on fixed-term contracts

10 Normer Miller and Rodger Yeager, ‘The Military: An Occupation that Puts Soldiers at Risk’, Civil-Military Alliance Newsletter 1, no. 2 (1996); Lindy Heinecken, ‘HIV/AIDS, the Military and the Impact on National and International Security’, Society in Transition 32, no. 1 (2001): 120–207. 11 Nyameka Mankayi and Anthony V. Naidoo, ‘Masculinity and Sexual Practices in the Military: A South African Study’, African Journal of AIDS Research 10, no. 1 (2011): 43–50. 12 Alan Greig, Prevention of HIV/AIDS in the South African Armed Forces: Addressing High-Risk Sexual Behaviours Caused by Gender Roles (Johannesburg: EngenderHealth, 2001). 13 Peter W. Singer, ‘AIDS and International Security’, Survival 44, no. 1 (2002): 148; Rupiya, ‘What We Know About HIV’. 14 UNAIDS, ‘On the Front Line’, 7. 15 Centre for Conflict Resolution (CCR), HIV/AIDS and Militaries in Southern Africa, seminar report no. 10 from Policy Advisory Group Seminar, Windhoek, Namibia, 9 and 10 February 2006, 24, http://www.ccr.org.za/index.php/media-release/reports/seminar-reports/item/836-hiv-aids- and-militaries-in-southern-africa, accessed 22 August 2019. 16 De Waal et al., HIV/AIDS, Security and Conflict: New Realities, New Responses, AIDS, Security and Conflict Initiative, 2001, 35,https://s3.amazonaws.com/ssrc-cdn1/crmuploads/new_ publication_3/%7BE2090D2B-72A8-DE11-9D32-001CC477EC70%7D.pdf, accessed 22 August 2019. 124 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS that vary in length. Militaries are accustomed to personnel losses and high turnover, and are in a constant stage of renewal, especially in the age bracket typically most prone to infection. They are also in a continuous cycle of training, and there are generally a sufficient number of qualified candidates available for promotion. For example, the Defence Force Service Commission reported that 15% of personnel in the SANDF experience rank stagnation due to a lack of posts for promotion.17 The implication is that the disease has not had the hollowing-out effect as envisaged, although it certainly has an influence on performance and cohesion. In South Africa, it is primarily the army, and more specifically the infantry, where the effect has been felt most, due to the age profile of the soldiers. AIDS and the age profile of the troops are some of the main factors affecting the number of troops available for peacekeeping missions. In an interview with an SANDF battalion commander preparing for deployment, he confirmed that out of the approximately 18,000-strong infantry corps, the army struggles to meet the requirements to supply current rotations. To have three battalions in the field (which equals one brigade), there needs to be at least 3000 personnel in force preparation, an equal number in combat readiness training, and similar numbers feeding into the system (ideally between 9000 and 12,000 personnel at various stages). This means that personnel from other units need to be transferred prior to deployment, affecting the ability of the SANDF to deploy ‘cohesive units’.18 Particularly in the mid-2000s, this meant that ‘units [were] made up by fragments of other units due to health and welfare reasons, resulting in troops working under commanders they do not know and with equipment that is neither theirs nor their responsibility’.19 This was specifically problematic when the policy was not to deploy anyone who tested HIV-positive. Based on this, the deduction can be made that the effect is felt most on operational capability at the tactical level, where it is difficult to ‘maintain combat effectiveness, unit cohesion, morale and discipline, and human resource quality’.20 A comparison of death statistics in 2005 between the national rates and the SANDF shows that the greatest impact of HIV/AIDS has been on those age groups that the military typically deploys.21 Given that the average age of troops deployed at the time was around 31 years, the effect is clear (see Fig. 8.1). At a parliamentary briefing in 2004, it was reported that 23% of SANDF members were HIV-positive. Of greater concern was that only 48.2% of those in the

17 Defence Force Service Commission, Recommendation by the Defence Force Service Commission Pay and Service Benefits Committee (DFSC-PSBC) on the Delinking Salary from Rank (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2017). 18 Lindy Heinecken, ‘The Potential Impact of HIV/AIDS on the South African Armed Forces: Some Evidence from Outside and Within’, African Security Review 18, no. 2 (2009): 70. 19 P van Ryneveld, ‘SANDF Has Become Grim Joke’, Pretoria News, 8 November 2006. 20 De Waal et al., HIV/AIDS, Security and Conflict, 12. 21 Heinecken, ‘The Potential Impact of HIV/AIDS’. 8.1 The Impact of HIV/AIDS on the Military 125

Death rates 30% DODDOD 20052005 25% National 2005

20%

15%

10%

0% 18 TO 24 25 TO 29 30 TO 34 35 TO 39 40 TO 44 45 TO 49 50 TO 54 55 TO 59 60 TO 64 YRS YRS YRS YRS YRS YRS YRS YRS YRS

Fig. 8.1 Comparison of Department of Defence and national deaths for 2005. (Source: Compiled from Department of Defence, Personnel Statistics, Statistics South Africa, 2007, 9) army had a G1/K122 status, which made them ineligible for deployment at the time.23 Four years later, in 2008, the Surgeon General announced that the HIV infection rate stood at 28%. This in effect meant that around 15,000 military personnel were infected with HIV and AIDS.24 The fear that HIV and AIDS would hollow out the SANDF was essentially mitigated through the extensive roll-out of ARVs and the medical care provided to members. Unlike other African militaries, there is no evidence that the disease has led to a leadership vacuum at the operational or strategic levels, due to rank stagnation and the fact that the SANDF is ‘top heavy’. The South African military has one of the highest general-to-troop ratios in the world with one general for every 1063 officers, NCOs and soldiers and in terms of the ratio of officers to other ranks, around 1:3.8.25 The greatest and most enduring problem is dealing with large numbers of personnel who are sick or absent from work and cannot be medically boarded or transferred to

22 These health categories are described in detail in Lindy Heinecken and Michelle Nel, ‘Human Rights and HIV-Testing in the South African Armed Forces’. In brief, the G1 category indicates that a member is healthy and can participate in any physical activity. A G2 category indicates that there is a recognisable disease. The ‘G’ factors then deteriorate to G2, G3 and G4 where a medical condition results in a person being able to perform only administrative or sedentary duties. The ‘K’ factor indicates the geographical area where an individual can deploy and the level of care that a person should be able to access, based on the medical diagnosis. Where a K1 factor is allocated, a person can be deployed anywhere, anytime without any health-care facility in the vicinity. Only people who are classified as G1 can be classified as K1. A K2 factor is indicated where a member can be deployed only within the borders of the RSA in proximity to tertiary health care. A G5 classification will be indicated where a person is medically unfit for any current medical duty. 23 Defence (Joint NA and NCOP) Committee, Defence Review. 24 Graeme Hosken, ‘SANDF HIV/AIDS Rate is 28%’, Pretoria News, 2 December 2008. 25 Heitman, ‘Too Many Generals in the SANDF?’. 126 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS posts that can accommodate their compromised health status. The inability to dismiss soldiers, and the need to utilise unfit or untrained personnel in support functions, undoubtedly affects organisational capacity and effectiveness. Most of the soldiers infected with HIV serve in the combat arms, which means that they need to undergo further training to ensure their optimal utilisation. The challenge is that support posts are typically oversubscribed, meaning that there are more applicants for positions than actual posts available. The implication is that such personnel become supernumerary, placing an additional burden on both the personnel and health budget of the SANDF. Consequently, the costs of treating and combating HIV/AIDS and associated opportunistic diseases has increased substan- tially over the years. In 2006/07, the amount allocated for the management of HIV and AIDS was said to be R26 million. This increased to R32.35 million in the financial year 2009/10, due to the new HIV/AIDS treatment policy of the Department of Health to commence treatment at an earlier stage. Costs associated with antiretroviral treatment increased the military health budget from R33.5 million for the year 2010/11 to R48 million for the 2011/12 financial year.26 No figures on the costs of HIV/AIDS treatment costs appear in the more recent annual reports. These costs are associated with the extensive care provided to military personnel and their dependants. All military hospitals are equipped to deal with the disease, and 66 operational specialist HIV referral centres exist to provide comprehensive care and support to SANDF members and their dependants.27 The operating budget of the SAMHS supports this, together with US funding from the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR) for the Masibambisane and Phidisa programmes.28 Naturally, this has placed a strain on military health services, prompt- ing the Minister of Defence to put together a task team in 2016 to investigate all aspects of military health in the DoD.29 The SAMHS is clearly under severe strain, with reports of deteriorating facilities, obsolete equipment and a lack of suitably qualified personnel. With a budget estimated to be R2.7 billion less than required, the provision of adequate health care is not sustainable.30

26 Leon Engelbrecht, ‘SANDF to Spend R48m On Combatting HIV/AIDS This Year’, DefenceWeb, 6 January 2011, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sandf-to- spend-r48m-on-combating-hivaids-this-year/, accessed 22 August 2019. 27 Defemce Force Service Commission, Annual Report FY 2015/16, 144. 28 Republic of South Africa, South African Defence Review [1996], 126. 29 DefenceWeb, ‘Military Medical Task Team Recommendations Being Implemented’, DefenceWeb, 17 March 2016, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/military-medical-task-team-recommendations-being-implemented/, accessed 22 August 2019. 30 DefenceWeb, ‘Military Health Service Not Financially Well’, DefenceWeb, 23 May 2018, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/military-health-service-not-financially- well/, accessed 22 August 2019. 8.2 Education, Prevention and Surveillance 127

8.2 Education, Prevention and Surveillance

One of the key strategies in the fight against HIV/AIDS is to create awareness and education about the disease. The first formal policy document on HIV prevention emerged in 1996, but it was not until 2001 that the SANDF developed an integrated programme to combat HIV/AIDS. Numerous structures now exist within SAMHS— at headquarters, arm of service, region and unit levels—to coordinate the various HIV/AIDS initiatives.31 Within the chain of command, beginning at headquarters level, an HIV Committee is responsible for compiling reports for the Surgeon General and DoD, formulation of policy, analysis of reports and evaluation of training material. Regionally, nodal points exist at the various medical commands who are responsible for the implementation of the SANDF’s HIV/AIDS policy and for the distribution of information to the educational officers at the units. At ground level, the HIV educational officers gather information and disseminate material and information to peer educators. In addition to this, lectures and discussions on the prevention of HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) form part of the training of troops prior to deployment. For the SANDF, HIV/AIDS education and prevention is the only weapon at its disposal to contain the pandemic. The extensive Masibambisane ‘Beyond Awareness’ programme includes mass awareness, HIV/AIDS workplace and peer education programmes, condom distribution and HIV and sexuality education elements. Masibambisane strives to address vulnerability and susceptibility issues in the military environment, as well as to develop effective intervention and training programmes, monitored every six months by a knowledge, attitudes and practice (KAP) survey. Further efforts at combating HIV and AIDS include a spiritual, ethical, moral and value-based initiative, driven by the Chaplain General, called Combat HIV/AIDS Through Spiritual and Ethical Conduct (CHATSEC), as well as wellness programmes at unit level throughout the SANDF. According to the 2016 DoD annual report, more than 56,000 DoD members were part of the health promotion and prevention programmes that included the administration of the KAP surveys.32 The data from the KAP surveys, together with the mortality statistics, data from the health information system and visits to military units, all serve to monitor the disease and develop appropriate prevention, education and health-care strategies. Another critical component of HIV/AIDS prevention is medical, psychological and social support for members infected and affected by the disease, as well as surveillance of the disease. The Phidisa programme, established in 2003, focuses on biomedical and health research used to assist the SANDF in the management of HIV/AIDS infection in military settings. Central to this programme is the distribution and monitoring of the effect of antiretroviral therapy (ART) for HIV-positive

31 Defence Force Service Commission, Annual Report FY 2015/16, 144. 32 Ibid. 128 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS individuals and their dependants. One of the primary aims of this project is to enable the SANDF to make informed decisions on force preparedness, combat readiness and the deployment of HIV-positive soldiers.33 One of the advantages of the military environment is that it offers an opportunity to conduct AIDS education and prevention programmes on a captive, high-risk audience. Right from the point of entry, even during the recruitment process, recruits receive awareness education on how to avoid becoming infected. Evidently, the SANDF has made a concerted effort to manage the impact of HIV/ AIDS. In 2012, the Surgeon General, Lieutenant-General Ramlakan, announced that collectively these initiatives had reduced infection rates to around 8.5% among uniformed personnel. This is a significant drop from the 28% cited in 2008 by the Surgeon General. When reflecting on these statistics, a number of factors need to be considered. The first is that many of those infected with the disease before the point of integration in 1994, which contributed to the higher incidence of HIV and AIDS in the 2000s, are now deceased or retired. Looking at the death and medical charge statistics over time for all causes (including HIV/AIDS), as listed in the DoD annual reports for 2005, 2010 and 2015, one sees a progressive decline, with claims that 33.4% of deaths are HIV/AIDS-related.34 This is higher than the national average, where the number of deaths due to HIV/AIDS is 25%.35 A second factor influencing HIV/AIDS statistics is testing upon recruitment. Although excluding members from the SANDF on the basis of their HIV status is considered an unfair labour practice, upon selection the SANDF excludes all candidates with HIV or other chronic health conditions. The assigned military health classification automatically denies such applicants admission to the CSS and MSDS.36 As such, it is expected that in this cohort the general infection rate is lower than national prevalence rates upon entry. No doubt the continuous awareness and education of this highly vulnerable, sexually active group contributes to their remaining HIV-negative, although clearly members are still becoming infected. The third factor is that the SANDF employs persons on term contracts, and it is apparent that some members’ contracts are not renewed based on their health status. This surfaced in a court case against the SANDF by the military trade unions, over the termination of service contracts based on HIV status.37 Finally, where ART keeps viral loads low, it reduces the spread of the disease and therefore death rates.

33 Patrick H. Maduna et al., ‘Morbidity and Mortality According to Latest CD + 4 Cell Count Among HIV Positive Individuals in South Africa Who Enrolled in Project Phidisa.’ PLoS One 10, no. 4 (2015). 34 News24, ‘SANDF’s HIV Policy Attacked’, News24, 29 July 2014, https://www.news24.com/ SouthAfrica/News/SANDFs-HIV-policy-attacked-20140729, accessed 22 August 2019. 35 Mary Alexander, ‘Infographic HIV/AIDS in South Africa 1990–2016’, South African Gateway, 14 April 2018, https://southafrica-gateway.com/infographics/infographic-hiv-aids-southafrica-1990-2016/, accessed 22 August 2019. 36 Vuyo Mkize, ‘SANDF Accused of HIV Discrimination’, The Star, 28 July 2014. 37 Zelda Venter, ‘SANDF’s Discriminatory Aids Policy Void’, Pretoria News, 17 May 2008. 8.3 Human Rights and HIV Testing 129

Undeniably, efforts to reduce infection rates are still hampered by the prejudice, discrimination and stigma associated with the disease. While the military considers testing for HIV ‘positive discrimination’ for operational reasons, it can perpetuate the stigma associated with the disease.38 At the individual level, concerns about stigma and discrimination can influence the person’s decision to be tested, which in turn influences their access to health care, as well as their willingness to reveal their status to their partners. This can lead to isolation and other negative forms of behaviour associated with the guilt and shame of having contracted the disease.39 In the military, which places a premium on health and mental and physical fitness, this filters into a discourse that affects the employment of HIV-positive individuals. For example, a study by Mabuza among SANDF personnel showed that many fear discrimination if their status were to be made known.40 Sergeant Mthethwa, an operational planner and the first HIV-positive soldier to be deployed abroad, stated that ‘he is still being treated unfairly … they just want to make sure that I get demor- alised, or I quit, or I get sick’.41 This indicates there is still a great deal of prejudice associated with being an HIV-positive soldier.

8.3 Human Rights and HIV Testing

Across the world, there is controversy over what are fair discriminatory policies when it comes to HIV testing for recruitment, deployment and promotion. Most militaries with the requisite capacity and legal authority screen candidates for HIV for both recruitment and deployment. The argument is that this is justified for operational reasons and necessary to provide the requisite treatment and care.42 To place this in perspective, of the 15 largest troop-contributing countries to peacekeeping operations, only Uruguay deployed HIV-positive soldiers prior to 2009. Most armed forces claim that testing for HIV and other chronic diseases is necessary to ‘meet health-related staffing goals, for compliance with host-country deployment and foreign training requirements and for mission fulfilment in certain military

38 Samuel Mungadze, ‘Retired Officer Backs SANDF HIV Discrimination’, Business Day, 12 July 2013, https://www.businesslive.co.za/bd/national/health/2013-07-12-retired-officer-backs-sandf- hiv-discrimination/, accessed 22 August 2019. 39 Evelyn P. Tomaszewski, ‘Understanding HIV/AIDS Stigma and Discrimination’, NASW HIV/ AIDS Spectrum Project, March 2012, https://www.socialworkers.org/LinkClick.aspx?fileticket=E hw3d_90z30%3D&portalid=0, accessed 22 August 2019. 40 Poppy L. Mabuza, ‘The Impact of HIV Serodiscordancy on Married Couples Attending the Infectious Disease Clinic at 1 Military Hospital’ (MA thesis, Department of Social Work and Criminology, University of Pretoria, November 2010). 41 He was one of the applicants in the South African Security Forces Union and the AIDS Project case that opposed the blanket exclusion of HIV-positive persons on foreign deployments. 42 John K. Sagala, ‘HIV/AIDS Prevention Strategies in the Armed Forces in Sub-Saharan Africa: A Critical Review’, Armed Forces & Society 34, no. 2 (2008): 302. 130 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS posts requiring high performance standards’.43 Similarly, the SANDF argued in the past that in order to meet its constitutional obligations,44 it needed to ensure that it had fit, healthy and readily deployable forces. Some consider this ‘positive discrimination’ based on ‘good management and operational strategic requirements’.45 However, human rights advocates argue that the blanket exclusion of HIV-positive military personnel is not justifiable and constitutes an unfair labour practice. These arguments are based on the International Labour Organization code of practice for non-discrimination in employment on the basis of HIV status. The first argument is that HIV-positive individuals can live a perfectly healthy, productive life if they are on ART. Only when the CD4 count drops below 200 do they become incapable of participating in activities generally associated with military service. A blanket exclusion is also not commensurate with all the various tasks that military personnel perform. Furthermore, there is the concern that such discrimination can perpetuate stigma and undermine the individual rights of soldiers in terms of their privacy and dignity.46 There are three competing tensions in HIV testing. The first concerns the question of whether HIV-positive individuals have a moral claim to serve in the military. The second is whether there is a correlating duty on the military to employ such persons, and the third is whether the military has the power and immunity to restrict the rights and duties of HIV-positive personnel, given their public duty to protect society.47 These competing tensions have given rise to numerous court cases, both internationally and in South Africa.48 In all the cases that have been brought before the courts, it is not the issue of HIV testing but rather the consequences thereof for the individual in terms of their employment and military careers that are contentious. In South Africa, testing uniformed members for HIV is subject to voluntary consent and forms part of their CHA, as set out in the Medical Standards of the SANDF. Where a person refuses to undergo an HIV test, their status is incomplete and means that they are either not recruited or not deployed externally.49 In May 2007, the South African Security Forces Union (SASFU), assisted by the Aids Law Project (ALP) of the University of the Witwatersrand, set out to challenge the

43 Rodger Yeager, Craig Hendrix and Stuart Kingma, ‘International Military Human Immunodeficiency Virus/Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome Policies and Programs: Strengths and Limitations in Current Practice’, Military Medicine 165, no. 2 (2002): 91. 44 The SANDF argued that the Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, section 200, states that the (1) defence force must be structured and managed as a disciplined military force, with (2) the primary task of defending and protecting ‘the Republic, its territorial integrity and its people in accordance with the Constitution and the principles of international law regulating the use of force’. 45 Mungadze, ‘Retired Officer Backs SANDF HIV Discrimination’. 46 De Waal et al., HIV/AIDS, Security and Conflict, 39–40. 47 Heinecken and Nel, ‘Human Rights and HIV-Testing’. 48 Ibid. 49 Ibid., 347. 8.4 HIV/AIDS and Deployment 131

SANDF’s HIV-testing policy. The following issues were contested in relation to HIV status and recruitment, deployment and promotion: 1. Whether the SANDF could constitutionally impose a blanket exclusion on recruits who tested HIV-positive upon application for employment in the SANDF; 2. The deployment of HIV-positive individuals outside the borders of the Republic of South Africa; 3. The denial of promotion of a non-commissioned officer who had applied to become an officer, but due to his HIV-positive status was not promotable.50 The main legal argument rested on the contention that although health status and fitness levels are relevant to certain posts, a blanket exclusion is unreasonable and not based on medical authentication.51 As such, it was argued that the SANDF’s policy did not take into account the continuing longevity and health status of HIV- positive individuals, advances in treatment and the health and strength of asymp- tomatic individuals and those under treatment. The SANDF’s policy at the time assumed that all HIV-positive individuals, irrespective of their CD4 count or viral load, were unable to work under harsh conditions. Over and above this, the SANDF’s policy was contrary to the national policy on HIV/AIDS and the cabinet’s position on pre-employment testing as grounds for exclusion in the SANDF. Over the years, the SANDF has been resolute in not employing or deploying HIV-positive soldiers but did an about-turn when faced with court action. It failed to contest the case in court due to insufficient medical evidence to support their claims that a blanket exclusion of HIV-positive persons was fair and justifiable. Consequently, the SANDF was compelled to review its policy on the management of HIV and AIDS in the DoD, and to adopt a more nuanced approach that took into consideration the health classification of posts and individualised health assess- ments for recruitment, promotion and placement. This led to the implementation of a new policy in 2009, and to the reassessment of the deployment of HIV-positive members on peacekeeping missions.

8.4 HIV/AIDS and Deployment

Prior to the 2008 court judgment and subsequent amendment of the HIV/AIDS policy, the SANDF abided by UN recommendations not to deploy anyone who was not 100% fit and healthy for external deployment.52 At the time, the UN did not insist on mandatory testing prior to deployment on peacekeeping missions. Both the UN and the UNDPKO stated that fitness and medical support should be the criteria

50 Ibid., 345. 51 Venter, ‘SANDF’s Discriminatory Aids Policy Void’. 52 Hosken, ‘SANDF HIV/AIDS Rate is 28%’. 132 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS for selection for external deployment. Yet, they do not recommend the deployment of HIV-positive soldiers due to medical concerns and to the potential that military personnel could serve as transmitters of the disease, both within the host country and upon return to their home country. A number of other issues have surfaced relating to the health care of HIV-positive soldiers during deployment. The first is that medical treatment during peacekeeping missions is limited and cannot deal with the special requirements of peacekeepers with HIV. Second, peacekeepers cannot have the deployment vaccinations, which could be detrimental to their health. Third, the presence of HIV-positive peacekeepers poses the risk of transmission to medical personnel, fellow peacekeepers and the civilian population.53 Essentially, the reasons why national armed forces do not deploy HIV-positive soldiers rest on the argument that soldiers serve in alien biological environments in adverse physical circumstances that place undue stress on members highly susceptible to opportunistic infections. Besides physical health, HIV has a negative impact on the psychological well-being of individuals and on their ability to function under stressful conditions. HIV and AIDS are typically associated with problems of depression, frustration, stress, short-term memory loss, cognitive dissonance and increased suicide rates.54 Armed forces argue that this may have a negative effect on command ability and the morale of fellow comrades, as well as the health and well-being of HIV-positive individuals, given the stressful operational environment. However, AIDS activists dispute this, arguing that there is a lack of medical and empirical evidence to support these claims.55 Subsequent to the court judgment, South Africa became one of the first nations to integrate personnel with HIV into military deployments and peacekeeping operations.56 However, before deciding whether to deploy an HIV-positive person, an evaluation of the risks of illness is necessary. Failure to do so places additional pressure on commanders where this requires hospitalisation, evacuation and replacement. In the SANDF, persons with G2K1 classification can now deploy.57 The latter classification is given to someone who has chronic disease but is treatable anywhere at any time. If HIV-positive soldiers are to be deployed abroad, their CD4 cell count needs to be higher than 350, and they need to have an undetectable viral load. This excludes anyone not on treatment, as only ART can reduce the viral load to unde-

53 Jeremy Youde, ‘Enter the Fourth Horseman: Health Security and International Relations Theory’, The Whitehead Journal of Diplomacy and International Relations 6, no. 1 (2005): 193–208. 54 Sagala, ‘HIV/AIDS Prevention Strategies’, 293. 55 UNAIDS, Twenty Years of HIV/AIDS, 10; Roxanne Bazergan, ‘HIV/AIDS Policies and Programmes for Blue Helmets’, research paper, Institute for Security Studies, 2 November 2004, 4, https://issafrica.org/research/papers/hiv-aids-policies-and-programmes-for-blue-helmets, accessed 22 August 2019. 56 Busiswe Nxumalo, ‘An Evaluation of the Implications of the Revised HIV Deployment Policy on the Healthcare Service of the South African National Defence Force’ (MA thesis, Faculty of Economic and Management Sciences, Stellenbosch University, 2018). 57 This medical classification is not solely reserved for persons having contracted HIV, but also for example for people suffering from hearing loss. 8.4 HIV/AIDS and Deployment 133 tectable levels. As indicated, a decisive factor is whether the necessary medical care is available. In reality, this can be accommodated only where the health condition of members is sufficiently stable to consider deployment; where the area to which they are to be deployed can accommodate persons living with HIV; where appropriate medical services are available; and where the number of HIV-positive people deployed within one troop deployment is limited. The SANDF selects for deployment those with the most suited health classification, irrespective of the underlying disease.58 Beyond the health risks, there are other considerations when deploying persons on external missions. Countries with low prevalence of HIV have resisted the deployment of peacekeepers from countries with high prevalence rates.59 Eritrea, for example, requested the Security Council to ensure that countries test UN peacekeepers before deployment. Similarly, an NGO in Sierra Leone, the Campaign for Good Governance, called for a policy of mandatory pre-testing of UN troops and the exclusion of HIV-positive soldiers.60 Then there is the issue of stigma where soldiers from other nations refuse to serve alongside forces seen to carry the virus, thinking that this may place their own safety and operational efficiency at risk.61 In this regard, a study by Lowicki-Zucca, Karmin and Dehne found no evidence that peacekeepers contribute to the spread of HIV prevalence in host countries.62 But, this is largely due to the fact that most countries with high prevalence rates have not deployed HIV-positive soldiers on peacekeeping operations. The opposite argument also holds true, namely, that troop-contributing countries may be hesitant to deploy their soldiers to areas with high HIV infection rates, given the high-risk behaviour of soldiers and the concern that they will spread the disease upon their return.63 The DoD 2015/16 annual report in fact states that ‘due to the high-risk behaviour of soldiers’ there are concerns that soldiers will contract the virus while on deployment.64 As the length of deployment has increased from 6 to 12 months, this may become worse. In a study examining HIV in the Nigerian military, for example, it was found that the risk of contracting HIV increased the longer personnel served on peacekeeping operations. Incidence rates increased from 7%

58 R. D’Amelio et al., ‘A Global Review of Legislation on HIV/AIDS: The Issue of HIV Testing’, Journal of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome 28, no. 2 (2001): 173–179. 59 Healthlink Worldwide, Combat Aids: HIV and the World’s Armed Forces (London: Healthlink Worldwide, 2002), 25. 60 Bazergan, ‘HIV/AIDS Policies and Programmes’, 3. 61 Andrew T. Price-Smith, Pretoria’s Shadow: The HIV/AIDS Pandemic and National Security in South Africa (Washington, DC: Chemical and Biological Arms Control Institute, 2002), 22. 62 Massimo Lowicki-Zucca, Sarah Karmin and Karl-Lorenz Dehne, ‘HIV Among Peacekeepers and its Likely Impact on Prevalence on Host Countries’ HIV Epidemics’, International Peacekeeping 16, no. 3 (2009): 352–363. 63 Rodger Yeager, ‘Key Policy Issues Face the Civil-Military Alliance’, Civil-Military Alliance Newsletter 1, no. 2 (1996). 64 Defence Force Service Commission, Annual Report FY 2015/16, 143. 134 8 Fair Labour Practices: Dealing with the Impact of HIV/AIDS after 1 year to 10% after 2 years and 15% after 3 years.65 Upon homecoming, this affects reintegration back into the family. In this regard, Pitse found that HIV is a major cause of separation and divorce in the post-deployment phase. One of the spouses she interviewed said: The fact that HIV test results are kept confidential after testing upon return from the mission area is one of the things that infuriate me. Children are also denied the opportunity to have a family with at least one of their parents alive, due the fact that both parents will die as a result of HIV/AIDS. One could have been saved if the results were revealed to both parties.66 This is clearly a valid concern. A study by Ntshota indicated that most husbands admitted to having extra-marital affairs to satisfy their sexual needs while on deployment, and some indicated that they had infected their wives.67 Typically, wives and female partners only find out when they fall ill or pregnant, or when they have to sign a consent form on behalf of their ill partners.68 No policy compels military personnel (or their civilian spouses, for that matter) to reveal their status to their partners, although this is encouraged. This may in fact evoke another constitutional challenge relating to the right of protection against disease and infection that is life-threatening.

8.5 Conclusion

Over the past 20 years, the SANDF has come a long way in trying to prevent the spread of HIV/AIDS, but the ripple effects on both organisational and operational effectiveness remain, given the impact on human resources and the costs of managing the disease. Programmes such as Masibambisane and Phidisa have clearly contributed to heightened awareness, knowledge, prevention and management of this disease, and mitigated the effects. The resources invested in this effort at all levels throughout the SANDF is truly commendable. This is largely attributed to the greater openness about the disease that has come with education, together with understanding and acceptance of those living with HIV/AIDS. In this regard, the military as an institution is in a unique position in that it is able to enforce policies and socialise members into changing their attitudes and behaviour. Ultimately, success depends on the willingness, capability and commitment of individual soldiers

65 Bazergan, ‘HIV/AIDS Policies and Programmes’. 66 Cynthia A. Pitse, ‘Spousal Support in the South African National Defence Force During External Military Deployment: A Model for Social Support Services’ (DPhil dissertation, Department of Social Work and Criminology, University of Pretoria, November 2009), 115. 67 Ntsikelelo Ntshota, ‘Challenges Facing Married Couples in the Deploying Units of South African National Defence Force’ (MA thesis, Department of Sociology, University of Cape Town, 2002), 54. 68 Mabuza, ‘The Impact of HIV Serodiscordancy, 31. 8.5 Conclusion 135 at high risk to protect themselves. This requires putting aside cultural conditioning associated with masculinities, virility and risk-taking embodied in military culture.69 The requirement to test, know one’s status, seek care and prevent the spread of the disease has no doubt contributed to behavioural change. In addition, the human rights implications of HIV testing have forced the SANDF into formulating a policy that is fair and takes into consideration both military deployment requirements and human rights concerns. There is often the perception that individual rights supersede those of the DoD in terms of its mandate and larger community. However, when looking at the merits of cases before the courts, it is more about making sure that all policies are based on evidence, and are openly debated, rather than undermining the rights of the military.70 Unfortunately, discrimination and stigma still exist, and contribute to the secrecy that undermines the management of this disease.71 In terms of peacekeeping, concerns that HIV and AIDS will weaken militaries, undermine peacekeeping operations, and pose a threat to international security have not materialised. This is largely due to the effect of ART, which has made HIV/ AIDS a manageable chronic disease. The long-wave effect of the disease has enabled militaries to manage some of the impact on their organisational and operational effectiveness. However, this has placed, and continues to place, a heavy burden on the health budget of the SANDF, affecting the health care available to soldiers and the sustainability of the overall military health-care system.

69 E. van der Ryst et al., ‘HIV/AIDS Related Practices Among South African Military Recruits’, South African Military Journal (SAMJ) 91, no. 7 (2001): 591. 70 Bazergan, ‘HIV/AIDS Policies and Programmes’, 3. 71 Defence Force Service Commission, Annual Report FY 2015/16, 87. Chapter 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion

In the post-Cold War era, there has been renewed interest among military personnel in the formation of trade unions, particularly in countries that have restricted the employee rights of soldiers. Besides South Africa, the United Kingdom, Ireland, France, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Poland and Slovenia have all faced the prospect of some form of military unionism.1 Numerous factors have contributed to the drive to unionise, including the shift to an all-volunteer force, declining conditions of service for military personnel and a rise in occupationalism.2 However, in both South Africa and the European Union, recent rulings in the Constitutional Court and European Court of Human Rights have provided the legal opportunity to unionise. In both cases, the courts ruled that the blanket ban on military trade unions undermines the principles of freedom of association and fair labour practices. Even so, where the right to belong to a trade union is granted, it remains a highly contested issue. Claims are made that military unions subvert military discipline and obedience,3 disrupt the chain of command by creating an ‘us vs them’ relationship, and erode

1 European Organisation of Military Associations and Trade Unions (EUROMIL), http://euromil. org/, accessed 22 August 2019. 2 Moskos (1977) identified that many individuals joining the military no longer viewed military service as a calling, or a vocation, but rather saw their employment in the military as just another job. The more occupational the ‘soldier’, the greater the importance ascribed to factors such as salary, job security or general working conditions, indicating a priority of self-interest over that of the employing organisation. 3 R Hallenbeck, ‘Civil Supremacy and the Military Union: The Systematic Implications’, in Military Unions: U.S. Trends and Issues, eds. William J. Taylor, Roger J. Arango and Robert S. Lockwood (Beverly Hills/London: Sage Publications, 1977), 233–244.

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 137 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_9 138 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion unit esprit de corps.4 Others consider unionising as ‘conflicting with the unique nature of the military and its role in the maintenance of national security and public order’.5 Despite these claims, European countries with a long tradition of some form of military unionism (Austria, Belgium, Denmark, Netherlands, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland) have not experienced this,6 the reason being that in most the scope for collective bargaining and the right to strike is limited.7 In addition, these countries approach employee relations from a different perspective in terms of the mechanisms of redress and in their dealings with military professional associations or, where they exist, military unions. In essence, there are four typical approaches to managing labour relations in the military. According to Farnham and Pimlott, armed forces traditionally manage employment relations from a unitarist perspective.8 This is premised on the principle that each employee identifies unreservedly with the aims of the organisation, that all are part of the same team, accept their position within the hierarchy, are loyal to the leadership of the organisation, and accept management’s right to manage.9 Given these requirements, it is clear why the military tends towards the unitarist approach, given its need for cohesion, unswerving obedience and control. However, this approach is accepted only where there is a shared value system and reciprocal sense of loyalty. Where these factors are eroded due to changes in service conditions and employment, armed forces are required to institute mechanisms to address the discontent this may evoke, including unionisation. How they respond is influenced by the level of trade-union density and degree of industrial activism in the particular country.10 Where the level of trade-union density and activism is low, one sees a greater tendency for armed forces to adopt a neo-unitarist approach to employee relations.

4 Jennifer Mittelstadt, ‘The Army is a Service, Not a Job: Unionization, Employment, and the Meaning of Military Service in the Late-Twentieth Century United States’, International Labour and Working Class History 80, no. 1 (2011): 29–52; Gerald Perselay, ‘The Realities of Military Unions’, in Military Unions: U.S. Trends and Issues, eds. William J. Taylor, Roger J. Arango and Robert S. Lockwood (Beverly Hills/London: Sage Publications, 1977), 172–180; William J. Taylor and Roger J. Arango. ‘Military Effectiveness: The Basic Issues of Military Unionization’, in Military Unions: U.S. Trends and Issues, eds. William J. Taylor, Roger J. Arango and Robert S. Lockwood (Beverly Hills/ London: Sage Publications, 1977), 245–264. 5 OSCE Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights, (ODIHR), Handbook on Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms of Armed Forces Personnel (Warsaw: ODIHR, 2008), 65. 6 Richard Bartle and Lindy Heinecken (eds.), Military Unionism in the Post-Cold War Era: A Future Reality? (London: Routledge Press, 2006). 7 Ibid. 8 David Farnham and John Pimlott, Understanding Industrial Relations, fifth ed. (London/New York: Cassell, 1995). 9 For a comprehensive discussion of the various approaches to labour relations in different countries, see Heinecken, ‘Military Unionism and the Management of Employee Relations Within the Armed Forces: A Comparative Perspective’, International Journal of Comparative Labour Law and Industrial Relations 26, no. 4 (2010): 401–420. 10 Heinecken, ‘Discontent within the ranks’. 9.1 Factors Facilitating Military Unionism 139

This approach is still ‘anti-union’, but accepts that employees do not automatically support management decisions. Through sophisticated human-resource management techniques, an attempt is made to reduce the incentive to unionise by, among others, paying higher wages than the market rate and improving communication methods and methods of conflict resolution. Far more contentious is the pluralist approach, or, more specifically, the confrontational pluralist approach, which is typically associated with countries having high levels of trade-union density and activism. The pluralist approach acknowledges that employees and employers have different and often conflicting interests and goals, sources of leadership and focuses of loyalty. Implicit in this approach is the recognition that unions have the right to bargain collectively over wages and working conditions, and in the determination of workplace rules and regulations. The last approach is what is termed cooperative pluralism, or corporatism, based on a social contract between labour, the state and employers. Implicit in this approach is the need to seek consensus in resolving problems rather than dispute resolution.11 There is a recognition that conflict is natural in the employment relationship, but that consensus-building as opposed to adversarial relations is the pre- ferred option. Most European armed forces that have military unions or associations adopt this approach, which has not been the case in South Africa. This is largely due to the fact that the legal framework that regulates labour relations in the DoD rests on pluralist principles, while the military leadership has continued to manage employee relations from a unitarist perspective. To understand the evolution in the management of employee relations in the SANDF, this chapter explains what led to the formation of military unions, how the relationship evolved from accommodation to resistance and, finally, to seeking ways to subvert the need for military unions through the creation of alternative structures of redress and representation.

9.1 Factors Facilitating Military Unionism

Even though armed forces have a unique culture and value system, they cannot escape influences from the broader society.12 The SANDF acknowledged this in 1996, stating that ‘it cannot stress values that are far removed from those of society, for doing so will result in society forcing changes upon the military’.13 The belief exists that if soldiers are to defend democracy, they should enjoy the same democratic rights as other citizens in the country, otherwise it would be unjust. These were the views held in South Africa on military unions. A national survey by the

11 Ibid. 12 Lindy Heinecken, ‘The Impact of Societal Forces on Receptiveness to Trade Unions in the SANDF’, Africa Insight 28, no. 1/2 (1998): 84–89. 13 South African National Defence Force, Service Guide for Newcomers, South African National Defence Force, 1996. 140 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion

Institute for Defence Policy (now the Institute for Security Studies) and the Human Sciences Research Council in 1995 revealed that 52% of Africans, 51% of Asians and 39% of coloureds indicated that they supported the idea that SANDF members should have the ‘freedom of association’ to join trade unions. Interestingly, 73% of whites were opposed to this, yet it was white former SADF officers who established the first military unions.14 The support for trade unions among black South Africans is largely rooted in the relationship between the unions and the liberation movement. Countries that have extended employee rights to the military typically display a close relationship between labour and government. However, where the trade union movement is in conflict with government, or is prone to industrial and political activism (such as in France and the UK), military unions are typically suppressed.15 In this regard, South Africa follows a similar pattern in terms of support for trade union rights, but differs in terms of both the militant and politicised nature of unions. This largely explains why the ANC government has been less accepting of military unions. However, when the rest of the public service and other security services have labour rights, it is difficult to prevent the spillover to the military. This becomes particularly difficult when support for unionisation is occasioned by declining service conditions. With the shift to the all-volunteer force, downsizing and rightsizing of the military, and the decline in conditions of service and importance of the military, it was inevitable that unionisation would emerge. According to Harries-Jenkins, a key motivation for military personnel to unionise is where they experience an undue amount of deprivation as both a ‘profession’ and an ‘institution’.16 In South Africa, the mood to unionise arose out of the decline in job security, career opportunities and service benefits, such as the reduction in the provision of duty buses to get to work, housing subsidies, study-incentive schemes, military accommodation tariffs and sport allowances.17 The processes of rationalisation, downsizing and under- resourcing created additional insecurities, exacerbating the mood to unionise. In 1995, a study conducted by the SANDF’s Effect Analysis section revealed that over 50% of respondents indicated that they would join a union if this were to exist.18 The mood and motive to unionise existed, but the actual ‘opportunity’ to do

14 Charl Schutte and Bill Sass, ‘Public Opinion Regarding Demobilisation of Military Members, and Unionisation in the South African Security Forces’, African Security Review 4, no. 5 (1995): 52. 15 Ian Ballantyne, ‘Military Unionism: Its Potential for Development in the Australian Armed Forces in the 1980s’, Defence Force Journal 39 (1983): 3–10; Heinecken, ‘The Impact of Societal Forces’. 16 Gwyn Harries-Jenkins, ‘Trade Unions in Armed Forces’, in Military Unions: U.S. Trends and Issues, eds. W. Taylor, R. Arango and R. Lockwood (Beverly Hills/London: Sage Publications, 1977), 61. 17 Lindy Heinecken, ‘Is Selfless Service Becoming a Misplaced Service Ethic? Attitudes of Officers Serving in the South African National Defence Force’, Society in Transition 28, no. 1–4 (1997): 50. 18 Georg Meiring, Report on Communication Implications of Attitude Surveys Done in 1995 (Pretoria: Department of Defence, Communications Services, 1995), 5. 9.2 Emergence of Military Unions 141 so was lacking. The Defence Act (44 of 1956), amended in 1993, barred military members from joining unions, as reflected in the extracts below: Section 126B (1) A member of the Permanent Force shall not be or become a member of any trade union as defined in section 1 of the Labour Relations Act of 1956. Section 126B (2) A member of the SADF who is subject to the said Military Disciplinary Code (MDC), shall not strike or perform any act of public protest. Section 126C Any member of the permanent force shall exercise his rights with respect to labour matters in terms of the regulations. The effect of the above provisions was clear. No person in uniform could belong to a trade union, strike or participate in the activities of a union; all labour matters would be regulated according to internal defence regulations.19 These internal regulations were never promulgated, leaving a vacuum in which military unions would later emerge. The lack of effective mechanisms to address the collective grievances of military personnel aggravated the need to unionise. In this regard, Harries-Jenkins claims that where ‘there is a significant loss of privilege and status of the military in society, trade unions are formed as a pressure group to re-establish the privileges formerly held by the armed forces’.20 So what drove the emergence of military unions in South Africa?

9.2 Emergence of Military Unions

On 26 August 1994, only 4 months after the creation of the SANDF, the South African National Defence Union (SANDU) came into being. The issues it planned to take up with military leadership included: equal opportunities for women with respect to housing subsidies, pensions, medical aid and tax; the retrenchment of about 30,000 members due to integration; and the erosion of numerous service benefits, as well as decisions to couple market-related prices to state-owned housing.21 The DoD responded to the establishment of the union in a typically unitarist fashion by establishing alternative representative structures, denouncing union activists and refusing to recognise the union.22 Unions were seen as an intrusion into the unified structure of the organisation and seen to compete illegitimately for control over the loyalty of employees. The creation of the forum structure was an attempt to subvert the development of unions by establishing alternative representative committees. At the same time, appeals were made to SANDF members to submit to the basic ethos of soldiering and accept that certain fundamental rights and principles, such as freedom of association, freedom to assemble, the right to demonstrate or strike and the right to life may have to

19 Heinecken, ‘Is Selfless Service Becoming a Misplaced Service Ethic’. 20 Harries-Jenkins, ‘Trade Unions in Armed Forces’, 61. 21 R. Friedman, ‘Soldiers’, The Argus, 3 September 1994. 22 Farnham and Pimlott, Understanding Industrial Relations, 46. 142 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion be sacrificed. This sacrifice is made ‘… in the interests of preserving those fundamental rights for all citizens who are not in the service of the military’. According to the SANDF, the limitations on these fundamental rights were reasonable and justifiable in an open and democratic society as the defence force must be ready to serve the nation at any time. Should individual self-interest be placed above duty and service in the SANDF, it is considered ‘a misplaced military ethic’.23 At the time, there was no obligation on the DoD to engage with the union as the regulations in section 126C of the Defence Act stated that no uniformed person could belong to a trade union or partake in the activities of a union. Lieutenant- General Reg Otto, Chief of the Army at the time, made it clear: The SANDF and, by implication the SA Army, does not recognise any trade union or person claiming to represent leaders of any trade union. The SA Army has very clear command channels to handle grievances. No alternative channel exists. The SA Army will not be burdened with trade union activities like other institutions. Please don’t cross swords with the SA Army. We will not be dictated to by any labour union or any of its officials. Peace and stability are our concern and it cannot be achieved with bad discipline or the interference of outside institutions.24 Post-haste, the SANDF created a forum structure to enable various rank groups to submit individual or collective grievances and complaints to higher authorities. While this was a good initiative, no provision for dispute resolution existed. Very much like the works and liaison committee structures in the private sector, when trade unions in South Africa were still banned under apartheid in the 1970s, this structure tended to facilitate rather than subdue the support for unions.25 With military leadership resolute not to engage with SANDU, in 1995 the union resorted to its democratic right to protest and marched to the Union Buildings, in Pretoria, to raise awareness of the grievances of soldiers. This shocked the nation and President Nelson Mandela, who subsequently met with a delegation from SANDU on 6 April 1995. While President Mandela was sympathetic and expressed concern for the plight of soldiers, SANDU’s hope of eliciting support was soon dashed. In a letter to SANDU, President Mandela stated that he could not repeal section 126B of the Defence Act: The Defence Force is a critically important institution in our country, on whose shoulders the stability and security [of] the transition to a democracy rests. Unlike other employees, the uniformed soldier has access to arms and even sophisticated weapons of mass destruction.26 At the time, the concern was that unions would divide and politicise the military. With both the military and political leadership resolute not to recognise the union,

23 Heinecken, ‘Is Selfless Service Becoming a Misplaced Service Ethic’, 55. 24 Lindy Heinecken, ‘No Unions We’re the SANDF: But What’s the Alternative’, African Security Review 6, no. 6 (1997): 19–27. 25 Ibid. 26 Nelson R. Mandela, Letter from President Nelson R. Mandela to Mr. C. van Niekerk, 15 May 1995, South African National Defence Union. Accessed 31 March 2019. 9.2 Emergence of Military Unions 143

SANDU turned to the courts to assert its members’ rights. The Bill of Rights, contained in the Constitution, has the following provisions: • Freedom of association (section 18): ‘Everyone has the right to freedom of association.’ • Labour relations (section 23(1)): ‘Everyone has the right to fair labour practices. (2) Every worker has the right (a) to form and join a trade union; (b) to participate in the activities and programmes of a trade union; and (c) to strike.’ • Limitation of rights: The above rights may be limited by section 36(1) ‘only in terms of a law of general application to the extent that the limitation is reasonable and justifiable in an open and democratic society based on human dignity, equality and freedom, taking into account all relevant factors, including (a) the nature of the right; (b) the importance of the purpose of the limitation; (c) the nature and extent of the limitation; (d) the relation between the limitation and its purpose; and (e) less restrictive means to achieve the purpose.’27 The onus was now on the DoD to show that any restriction on trade union rights, such as those imposed in section 126 of the amended Defence Act, could be justified in terms of section 36(1) of the Bill of Rights. After five years of court battles, the case was eventually heard in the Constitutional Court.28 The arguments in the court centred on three key issues: (1) whether soldiers could be considered workers; (2) the potential effect on military discipline; and (3) the consequences of protest and strike action for political neutrality and national security. On the first point, the Constitutional Court turned to the International Labour Organization for the meaning of the term ‘worker’ and concluded that this definition extended to members of the police and armed forces. On the second issue, of discipline, the court conceded that it was imperative that the SANDF maintain a disciplined force, but it failed to see how trade union membership could undermine this. Judge Albie Sachs stated: A blindly obedient soldier represents a greater threat to the constitutional order and peace of the realm than one who regards himself [as] a citizen in uniform, sensitive to his or her responsibilities and rights under the Constitution.29 On the third point, in terms of the effect on political neutrality, the court ruled that the restrictions on the right to strike and protest in the Defence Act were too broad and went beyond what was reasonable and justifiable to achieve the objectives of a disciplined military force. The court argued that the restrictions undermined other fundamental democratic rights, namely, the right to association, fair labour practices and protest. What was interesting in the Constitutional Court judg-

27 Republic of South Africa, The Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, Act 108 of 1996. 28 Lindy Heinecken and Michelle Nel, ‘Military Unions and the Right to Collective Bargaining: Insights from the South African Experience’, International Journal of Comparative Labour Law and Industrial Relations 23, no. 3 (2007): 463–483. 29 See South African National Defence Union v Minister of Defence and Another, 1999 (6) BCLR 615 (CC, 635). 144 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion ment was that the scope of collective bargaining, the right to strike and the possible effect on national security were not adjudicated. The Constitutional Court subsequently ordered the Minister of Defence to promulgate labour regulations that were consistent with the constitutional rights of uniformed military personnel, namely, the right to association, fair labour practices and the right to protest. As SANDU had not asked for the right to strike to be extended to soldiers, this judgment was reserved but may well have been granted. The Constitutional Court subsequently ruled that the DoD must promulgate labour relations legislation for uniformed military personnel within three months. This led to the enactment of Chapter 20 of the General Regulations in August 1999. The General Regulations made provision for, among others, the establishment of military trade unions, a Military Bargaining Council (MBC) and a Military Arbitration Board (MAB), and procedures to refer matters to the High Court in the case of disputes.30 For the first time in South African history, military personnel could now legally belong to a trade union. Furthermore, they could apply to register a union (on the proviso that it had at least 5000 members), and for recognition to serve on the MBC if they met the threshold of 15,000 members. SANDU was formally registered on 30 June 2000, but other unions soon emerged, namely, the Military Trade Union of South Africa (MTUSA), the South African National Union of Soldiers (SANUS) and the South African Security Forces Union (SASFU). Of the three, only SASFU (whose membership was mostly former MK and APLA members) and SANDU (mostly former SADF) met the threshold for registration.

9.3 Resisting Military Unions

The accommodation of labour rights for soldiers has not been an easy process, the key reason being that the legal framework made provision for a more pluralist approach to labour relations, while the military ‘mindset’ remained unitarist. This being said, in the initial stages after the recognition of SANDU, the DoD tried to engage with the union in an attempt to resolve the grievances raised by the military unions. However, right from the very first MBC meeting in October 2000, the style of SANDU was confrontational, and this evoked dissent.31 Growing tensions emerged between the DoD and SANDU, hampered by power struggles not only between the two but also between decision-makers outside the MBC, namely, the Secretary of Defence, who saw the union as ‘interfering with the responsibilities and obligations of the Chief of the SANDF’, and the Minister of Defence, in terms

30 See Heinecken and Nel (2007) for an extensive evaluation of the Constitutional Court case and subsequent cases concerning the right to collective bargaining. 31 G. du Plessis, ‘Minutes of the Military Bargaining Council Meeting’, meeting minutes from the Military Bargaining Council Meeting, Department of Defence Headquarters, Pretoria, 6 and 14 February 2001. 9.3 Resisting Military Unions 145 of ratifying certain decisions.32 At a briefing to the JSCD on 29 August 2001, the SANDF voiced its objection to the insistence of SANDU on being involved in managerial matters, the militant stance of the union and the use of the media to discredit individuals, as well as to the tabling of issues such as pensions, which were not matters for negotiation. The meeting gave rise to the sentiment that the military unions were dangerous.33 Subsequent to this, and in response to alleged threats by SANDU to strike, the Minister of Defence suspended the activities of the MBC in September 2001, ending the collective bargaining process as it pertained to uniformed members. With negotiations at an impasse, approximately one thousand SANDU members took part in a protest march on 31 January 2002, to express their dissatisfaction with the DoD’s disregard for the General Regulations.34 Once more, SANDU turned to the courts to resolve this deadlock. In two separate High Court applications in July 2002, SANDU sought to declare, firstly, that the Minister of Defence had an obligation to negotiate on all matters of mutual interest, and, secondly, that the provisions in the General Regulations that infringed the Bill of Rights in the Constitution be corrected or set aside. Numerous court battles ensued, which bestowed an obligation on the DoD to negotiate on all matters affecting the rights and interests of members of the SANDF. In addition, the courts ruled that SANDU, as the only recognised union, had the right to represent its members in grievance, disciplinary and court proceedings.35 Despite the court rulings, the SANDF continued to sideline the unions, claiming that they no longer met the threshold for recognition. With the MBC effectively non-functional, a total of 4000 grievances remained unresolved, some for periods of up to three years. Not surprisingly, internal DoD surveys on the state of labour relations and morale indicated that all was not well. There was a low level of satisfaction with the department as an employer, with its personnel administration and training, and with the flow of information within the SANDF.36 Consequently, the Parliamentary Portfolio Committee on Defence ordered the SANDF to set up a task team to address its labour relations challenges and to restore communication with the unions, as the grievances raised were considered genuine and long-standing. This was seemingly ignored by the DoD, which increased the militancy of the unions. In July 2008, SANDU threatened an armed siege of the military’s headquarters if its demands were not addressed, stating that this was its final warning to the

32 G. du Plessis, ‘Minutes of the Military Bargaining Council Meeting’, meeting minutes from the Military Bargaining Council Meeting, Department of Defence Headquarters, Pretoria, 4–6 July 2001. 33 Department of Defence, ‘Military Trade Unions: Briefing by Department of Defence and Minister’, 28 August 2001, https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/723/, accessed 31 August 2019. 34 C. van Niekerk, ‘Foreword: Enough is Enough’, paper presented at the SANDU National Conference Programme, Pretoria, South Africa, 2002, 6. 35 Heinecken and Nel, ‘Military Unions’; R. Molefe, ‘Military Union Fights a Winning Battle’, City Press, 3 June 2007. 36 Department of Defence, Policy on Equal Opportunities and Affirmative Action. 146 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion

DoD. Notice was given of the protest and the SANDF informed union members that they would need to take leave if they wanted to participate. Subsequently, soldiers belonging to SANDU and SASFU marched to the Union Buildings in August 2009 to express their grievances, only to be met with hostile resistance from the police. The images of police shooting at the protesting soldiers shocked the South African public, and the protest was perceived as a horrific display of lawlessness. However, it was the excessive use of force by the police that caused soldiers to climb the fences around the Union Buildings and not an attempt at forced entry, as it was portrayed by the media.37 But, the incident provided an ideal opportunity for the Minister of Defence, Lindiwe Sisulu, who was vehemently anti-union, to clamp down and dismiss protesting soldiers, stating that she would ‘de-unionise the SANDF’, and even threatened to amend the Constitution.38 Despite the fact that the soldiers involved had taken leave, the minister ordered the immediate provisional dismissal of the 1420 soldiers who took part in the protest.39 SANDU contested this order, resulting in an expensive, three-year court battle that ended in the Supreme Court of Appeal. The court ruled that the dismissals were unlawful, that the soldiers should be reinstated, and that the protests in no way constituted a risk to national security.40 The DoD was ordered to pay all legal costs incurred by SANDU, estimated at R8 million.41 SANDU claims that this cost the SANDF around R600 million in salaries.42 This dispute has had a lasting effect on the management of labour relations in the DoD. Although the 2009 Human Resource Strategy states that the DoD must ‘develop and implement a strategy to optimally manage the relationship between the SANDF and recognised military unions and endeavour to create an environment conducive to successful negotiations’,43 this has not materialised, and relations with the unions remain fractious. This is most aptly reflected in the following comment by Judge Bosielo: The sad truth is that the relationship between the SANDF and the military trade unions is still turbulent and toxic. This is because they view each other as adversaries and not as partners engaged in a common enterprise. Their relationship is characterised by public

37 Duncan, ‘Voice, Political Mobilization’, 53. 38 DefenceWeb, ‘Sisulu Firm on De-Unionising the SANDF’, DefenceWeb, 6 December 2010, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sisulu-firm-on-de-unionising- sandf/, accessed 22 August 2019. 39 Ibid. 40 DefenceWeb, ‘Another Bloody Nose for Military Legal Services’, DefenceWeb, 10 September 2014, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/another-bloody-nose-for- military-legal-services/, accessed 22 August 2019. 41 South African National Defence Union (SANDU). ‘Live, Forward, March’, SANDU Newsletter, 2012. 42 Reuters, ‘Union Buildings “Special Leave” Protestors Recalled’, DefenceWeb, 25 May 2016, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/union-buildings-special-leave- protestors-recalled/, accessed 22 August 2019. 43 Department of Defence, Department of Defence Overarching Human Resource Strategy, Part 1: Strategic Direction (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2009). 9.4 Subverting the Need for Military Unions 147

mudslinging and never-ending court battles, which do not augur well for this country and especially democracy.44 The challenge is how to manage this relationship, given the military unions’ legal right to exist. Instead, what the DoD has done is to try and subvert the need for military unions through the establishment of an independent statutory Defence Remuneration Advisory Board/National Defence Force Service Commission to provide the ‘Command Cadre, Defence Secretariat and the Minister of Defence with impartial expert advice on the appropriate adjustment of members’ remuneration, conditions of service conditions’.45

9.4 Subverting the Need for Military Unions

In October 2009, an Interim National Defence Force Service Commission (INDFSC) was established to make recommendations on a service-specific dispensation outside the public service for military personnel. The terms of reference of the INDFSC were to look specifically at SANDF members’ remuneration and conditions of service. Given the high level of discontent within the ranks, the INDFSC visited many bases to hear the views of soldiers. In addition, they visited countries, such as the United Kingdom, USA and Russian Federation, with no form of independent professional associations or unions for soldiers. This was the terms of reference given to the INDFSC, as stated in the Government Gazette (15 April 2016): It is not in the terms of reference of the Interim Commission to investigate and consider forms of voluntary association for the military, including trade unions. The President, as Commander-in-Chief has, with the support of Cabinet, declared that de-unionisation of the SANDF must be accomplished as soon as possible. No other person has the authority to countermand the President’s directive. It is advisable for the Interim Commission to steer as far as possible from entertaining issues relating to unions or military associations.46 The mandate of the INDFSC was narrowed to three critical issues: 1) to make recommendations on a unique service dispensation outside the ambit of the public service; 2) to advise on a regulatory framework; and 3) to investigate and provide advice on remuneration and conditions of service of members of the SANDF. In the wake of the 2009 SANDU protest, the immediate response was to subdue the mood of soldiers by implementing an across-the-board salary increase in December 2009. This was followed by investment in the upgrading of base facilities at 21 SA Infantry Battalion and the SA Army Signal Formation, which were in a state of complete

44 Judge L.O. Bosielo, ‘Unpacking the Judgement on Military Trade Unions in South Africa’, in Bridging the Gap: Advancing Civil–Military Relations to Deepen Democracy, Civil–Military Relations Conference 2016 Proceedings, eds. E.L. van Harte, N. Breakfast, R. Steenkamp Fonseca, K.I. Theletsane and R.A. van Diemel (Stellenbosch: African Sun Media, 2018), 157–158. 45 Department of Defence, Department of Defence Overarching Human Resource Strategy, Part 1. 46 Republic of South Africa, Final Report of the INDFSC to the Honourable Minister of Defence, L.N. Sisulu (Pretoria: Department of Defence, 2016), 7. 148 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion neglect. There was an effort to resolve the many individual grievances that were submitted to the INDFSC during its visits to the different military bases. Most of the grievances pertained to career management, service benefits, remuneration, administration, the poor state of accommodation, transportation, medical health and state of the infrastructure. As reported by the military unions, the INDFSC found that the grievances of soldiers were compelling and caused SANDF members to lose trust and confidence in the chain of command.47 The findings of the INDFSC were no different to those raised by the military unions over the years, but to no avail. On 10 October 2013, the permanent Defence Force Service Commission (DFSC) was announced.48 Section 62B of the amended Defence Act sets out the following functions for the Commission: (a) The Commission must on an annual basis, make recommendations to the Minister on improvements of salaries and service benefits of members; (b) The Commission must further make recommendations to the Minister on policies in respect of conditions of service; (c) The Commission is also empowered to promote measures and set standards to ensure the effective and efficient implementation of policies on conditions of service within the Defence Force and to make recommendations to the Minister. The DFSC was tasked to conduct research on conditions of service, to review policies, to evaluate and monitor the implementation of such policies, and to consult other interested bodies on matters relating to the service conditions of military personnel. During 2015/16, further consultation visits were conducted in Botswana, Tanzania, Namibia and Zimbabwe to investigate how their respective defence forces deal with the issue of decoupling salary from rank. This issue was similarly articulated by the former Minister of Defence and Military Veterans, Lindiwe Sisulu, in order to address the problem of career stagnation.49 However, with personnel costs already consuming 55.6% of the defence budget, as against the target of 40%, this is an elusive goal. A weakness of the DFSC is that it has no bargaining power. There is no obligation on the part of the DoD to accept the recommendations of the commission nor capacity to deal with the collective grievances of military personnel. There is no doubt that the DFSC is hard-pressed under current budgetary conditions to get its recommendations implemented. Already the commission wants ‘more teeth’ in order to intervene in the interests of the welfare of soldiers. This comes after claims that the Minister of Defence did not respond to their reports.50 The DFSC in fact

47 Ibid., 17. 48 The members of the commission are: Lieutenant-General (ret.) Lambert Moloi, Major-General (ret.) James April, Major-General (ret.) Bantu Holomisa, Professor Renfrew Christie, Ian Robertson, Magirly Mokoape, Lindiwe Zulu and Dipuo Mvelase. While the committee is representative in terms of race and gender, all the members, with the exception of General Holomisa, are closely aligned with the ruling party and some have served in MK. 49 Defence Force Service Commission, Recommendation by the Defence Force Service Commission. 50 Andisiwe Makinana, ‘Guptagate: Opposition Parties Point Finger at Zuma’, Mail & Guardian, 22 May 2013, https://mg.co.za/article/2013-05-22-guptagate-opposition-parties-point-finger-at- zuma, accessed 22 August 2019. 9.4 Subverting the Need for Military Unions 149 stated that they were struck by the severe nature of complaints that remained unresolved for lengthy periods. For many years, the military grievance procedure has not been functioning optimally, and the backlog contributes to the loss of confidence in the chain of command.51 To address this, a new grievance procedure was established in 2010 to address individual grievances and complaints. Although members still have to channel their grievances through the chain of command, more stringent timeframes and monitoring of the resolution of disputes are applied. A new addition to this process is the institutionalisation of a Grievance Committee at the level of the Chiefs of Service, and the establishment of a Grievance Board under the auspices of the Chief Human Resources. This board convenes monthly and can summon any person to testify or produce the necessary documen- tation in a case under review. The new system also makes provision for individuals to lodge their grievances electronically, which enables both the Secretary for Defence and the Chief of the SANDF to monitor and track grievances.52 Although this is a much-improved, fair and impartial process, it can still be cumbersome, especially where it requires additional investigation to resolve the dispute. What is still lacking is a channel for soldiers to lodge or lobby for their collective interests, or an adequate dispute resolution mechanism. As the Grievance Board only has the power to make recommendations, where a dispute cannot be resolved, the matter is forwarded to the Military Ombud. In 2012, the Office of the Military Ombud was created under the Military Ombud Act (4 of 2012). The need for a Military Ombudsperson had been proposed in the 1996 White Paper on Defence, but never implemented. The purpose of the Military Ombud, as is the case in most democracies, is to act as a neutral and objective sounding board, mediator, investigator and reporter of the complaints of military personnel, as well as of the public. The powers of the Military Ombud are wide, and include the right to investigate complaints relating to: service conditions; recruitment procedures; appointment processes, job classifications and grading; allowances and service benefits; working environments and facilities; education, training and development; performance evaluations; promotions, transfer and demotions; dismissals and disciplinary measure; grievance and grievance procedures; and skills progression.53 Given the scope of its tasks, the Military Ombud has an extensive support team of 53 personnel and has been successful in resolving the majority of complaints. Most cases pertain to service termination, service benefits, promotion, demotion and career intervention, remuneration, utilisation and placement. Lieutenant-General (ret) Themba Matanzima, who serves as the Military Ombud,

51 Republic of South Africa, Final Report of the INDFSC, 23 and 38. 52 Republic of South Africa, Department of Defence and Military Veterans, Defence Act, 2002, Individual Grievance Regulations, Government Gazette, No. 33334, 30 June 2010. 53 Lieutenant-General Themba Matanzima (ret.), South African Military Ombud Financial Year Statistics, South African Military Ombud, 10 November 2016, http://pmg-assets.s3-website-eu- west-1.amazonaws.com/160909Media_Briefing-.pdf, accessed 2 September 2019. 150 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion claimed in a recent report that more than 1000 complaints had been resolved since 2012.54 With all the new mechanisms to address the grievances and conditions of service for military personnel, the question is whether there is still a place or need for military unions. During 2016, SANDU claimed to have a membership of around 19,000, although many more silently support the union.55 SASFU was deregistered in 2011 for failing to meet the minimum requirement of 5000 members.56 A message coming from soldiers is that they are aware of their rights as citizens and feel they should be consulted on decisions that affect their well-being. One cannot ignore that the military unions have highlighted the grievances and poor working conditions of military personnel, including clear cases of abuse of power. One just has to think of the Guptagate scandal and the unjust suspension of two innocent white officers. Only after SANDU’s intervention and support were the two acquitted of the charges and compensated for the damage to their reputations and military careers.57 Nonetheless, SANDU’s often overtly critical and hostile stance has alienated some military personnel, as reflected in a letter to the union from Chaplain Andrew Treu: I expect my union to be engaging with the Minister and the Secretary of Defence, lobbying on behalf of soldiers. I expect my union to be in discussion with the office of the Military Ombudsman to help define roles and perhaps even to forge some kind of partnership. I expect my union to be engaging at an academic level with institutions, think-tanks and universities where these matters are discussed and researched. I expect my union to be presenting papers at academic colloquia and submitting papers to academic journals. I expect my union to be writing articles in newspapers and online forums, specifically to debate defence spending, the state of equipment and the service conditions of soldiers.58 What this demonstrates is that soldiers wish to have a collective voice that is less adversarial and more consultative. This is precisely the role performed by military unions and professional associations in Europe. According to Caforio, professional associations or unions are typically formed to defend the moral and professional interests of members, to enhance the profession in the eyes of the public, to inform commanders on personnel problems, to collaborate in solving personnel problems, to inform members on personnel issues, to defend the interests of retired personnel,

54 Ibid. 55 DefenceWeb, ‘Military Trade Union is “Provocative”—SANDF Chief’, DefenceWeb, 4 April 2016, https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/military-trade-union-is- provocative-sandf-chief/, accessed 22 August 2019. 56 DefenceWeb, ‘SASFU Deregistered’, DefenceWeb, 28 March 2011, https://www.defenceweb. co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sasfu-deregistered/, accessed 22 August 2019. 57 DefenceWeb, ‘Guptagate Moves to the Military Courts’, DefenceWeb, 2 September 2013, https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/guptagate-moves-to-military-court/, accessed 22 August 2019; Marianne Merten, ‘Guptagate: Zuma Not Off the Hook Yet’, IOL, 21 January 2015, http://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/ guptagate-zuma-not-off-the-hook-yet-1807321, accessed 22 August 2019. 58 Andrew J. Treu, ‘Why I’m Resigning from SANDU’, PoliticsWeb, 4 April 2013, http://politicsweb.co.za/opinion/why-im-resigning-from-sandu, accessed 22 August 2019. 9.5 Conclusion 151 and to participate in bodies for social and cultural promotion.59 This has not hap- pened in South Africa and is unlikely to happen unless a more consultative and cooperative approach to labour relations is embraced. Soldiers have the right to association and there is a clear need for some form of independent representation. Even those who are less supportive of military unions, such as Helmoed-Römer Heitman, claim that there is a place for associations that can take matters to court, to Parliament and to the Military Ombud and play a wider role in civil society.60

9.5 Conclusion

For the past two decades and more, the SANDF has continued to manage labour relations from a classically unitarist perspective. This is not unusual or unique to the SANDF, as armed forces ‘traditionally tended towards unitary structures and consensus values which have generally been accepted by managerial cadres and subor- dinates alike’.61 Prior to 1994, military personnel did not feel the need to unionise, as the state and military leadership generally tended to the welfare of military personnel. However, this relationship was eroded as national priorities shifted and the relevance and importance of the military declined in the post-apartheid era. As has been the case elsewhere, organisational and force restructuring, coupled with declining conditions of service, career prospects and tenure, and the deterioration of infrastructure and trust in military leadership, all contribute to the need for unions. In South Africa, one sees interesting shifts in the management of labour relations—from resisting unions from a classical unitarist perspective, to confronting them from a pluralist labour relations dispensation, to subverting the need for unions through the institutionalisation of neo-unitarist methods. The question is whether the new grievance procedures and institutional mechanisms will in fact subvert the need for military unions. Whether the DFSC and Military Ombud have the same tenacity as the unions in tackling labour problems is doubtful, as their mandates are restricted and there is still no provision for resolving collective disputes. As for the Military Ombud, its track record looks promising, but it is too early to tell whether this will lead to the demise of the unions. A more constructive alternative is to have all the different mechanisms of redress, including the unions, working towards a more consultative pluralist dispensation to improve the overall management of employee relations in the DoD. For now, the military unions continue to play an important role in bringing matters to justice and raising public awareness through the media, and in so doing giving voice to soldiers. As Duncan points out, the military unions under the Zuma

59 Giuseppe Caforio, ‘Unionization of the Military: Representation of the Interests of Military Personnel’, in Handbook of the Sociology of the Military, ed. Giuseppe Caforio (New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher, 2003), 319. 60 DefenceWeb, ‘Another Bloody Nose’. 61 Farnham and Pimlott, Understanding Industrial Relations, 46. 152 9 Military Unions: Moving from Accommodation to Confrontation to Subversion administration provided an important ‘safety valve for military personnel to speak in an unmediated voice and place a check on the growing culture of authoritarian- ism, corruption and politicisation’.62 One can therefore understand why many who were closely aligned to the Zuma regime, including among the military leadership, were keen to see the military unions perish. Few can argue against the fact that the unions have played an important oversight role, and ‘one wonders who will hold the Defence Force, its leadership and the politicians to account’ if this voice is ever silenced.63

62 Jane Duncan, ‘The Danger of the Blindly Obedient Soldier’, The South African Civil Society Information Service, 8 May 2012, http://sacsis.org.za/s/story.php?s=1290, accessed 22 August 2019. 63 Ibid. Chapter 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections

The aim of this concluding chapter is to highlight some of the key aspects raised in the preceding chapters, by reflecting critically on how the four defence transformation processes have evolved over time, and how this has impacted on military effectiveness. The four processes are organisational transformation, political transformation, cultural transformation and human-resource transformation, which are all intertwined with the different themes addressed in this book. The first relates to the changed security environment that brought about a transformation in the organisational structure of the military as a result of a shift in mission focus and organisational and force structure and a move towards peacekeeping as a mission priority. The second assesses the influence of the changed political environment on the SANDF, relating to civil control of the military, the legitimacy and representativeness of the armed forces, and the need to address the plight of military veterans. The third and fourth elements concern aspects of cultural and human-resource transformation that coalesce with issues of gender, HIV/AIDS and military unions. For South Africa, the end of the Cold War meant the end not only of a war against a perceived communist threat but also of the need to defend, as well as to fight against, the apartheid regime. The end of hostilities necessitated a rethink of what constitutes security and the future roles of the military. Beyond this, there was a need to return the military to the ‘barracks’ to ensure that it would not become involved in domestic affairs or pose a threat to society and other countries in the region. Consequently, the decision was made to limit the military’s role to non- offensive defence, or a defensive rather than offensive posture. The primary mission of the new SANDF was defined as defence against external aggression, which informed how the military was to be structured, trained, equipped, designed and funded. While this was a politically expedient choice, it was militarily flawed, as it left the defence force without the capabilities and capacities to deal with the ever- widening demands that have been placed upon it since 1994. A mismatch occurred

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 153 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6_10 154 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections between the various elements of force structure and design, contributing to operational overstretch and understaffing in critical areas of operation. Associated with the shift to an all-volunteer force, the different service systems failed to provide the numerical and functional flexibility necessary to meet shifting mission requirements. The balance between short-, medium- and long-term regular full-time forces became skewed, driving up personnel costs and hindering the ability of the military to rejuvenate and replenish the reserve forces. In turn, this limited the expeditionary capacity of the defence force, especially as it did not draw on the private security and military sector to augment its capacity. Collectively, this strained the capacity of the SANDF to meet its obligations and commitments, both internationally, in terms of its deployment on peacekeeping operations, and internally, for border duties and other law and order functions. Added to this, there emerged the problem of the lack of certain key skills, equipment and support to deploy in environments where adversaries are embedded within the civilian population. These deficiencies became more apparent during peacekeeping operations; as these missions take place within societies and among civilians, they require a different type of soldier, with a far greater understanding of the socio-political context of operations. As the military enters a new phase of defence transformation, closer attention to force design and structure is necessary to ensure greater flexibility and adaptability as the tasks of the military change. Some unsettling decisions need to be made about personnel requirements, force design and how to re-equip the forces, given the current imbalances in personnel, equipment and operational expenditure. The legacy of the arms deal means that politicians and military leadership are hard-pushed to justify more expenditure on armaments. Unlike during the transition to democracy, a new dynamic exists in terms of the security challenges that the international community, region and country faces: international terrorism, trans-border criminal activities and internal political strife all pose a threat. Yet, unlike during the transition to democracy, there is a dearth of debate on the future role of the military within society, given the many pressing political and socio-economic concerns facing government. This is unlike during the apartheid era, when the military was central to state security. Particularly during the 1980s, the military exerted a substantial influence over government, and civilian society experienced a high level of the militarisation of everyday life. This is no longer the case, as the military is largely removed from domestic politics. Mechanisms instituted to ensure civilian control over the military and to curb executive power, although weakened in terms of the actual execution, especially in the last decade, still exist. Evidence of political disregard for democratic processes, in particular oversight and accountability, emerged during the Zuma administration, raising questions about the effectiveness of parliamentary oversight mechanisms. The influence of the parliamentary portfolio committees is affected by their lack of knowledge and understanding of military matters, which undermines informed decision-making on military matters. The failure to fully grasp the difficulties the military faces, and its ‘need to be different’, has created tension within the military and between military leadership and politicians, although party loyalty ensures these are not openly voiced. 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections 155

An added dimension is that both the military and civil society have become less engaged in public debates on defence matters. Over the years, a civil-military connectivity gap has emerged, affecting not only informed decision-making but also public support and interest in the military. Clearly, where the military is disengaged from society, it cannot expect the citizenry to see the need and relevance for additional defence expenditure, unless their safety and security are directly threatened. The negative consequence, which one sees in South Africa, is that politicians come to place demands on the military that stretch it beyond what it can accommodate. As the military struggles to meet these demands, with less resources and ageing equipment, it increases resentment and has a negative impact on the morale of the forces. To address this, a better balance is needed between subjective control (political influence) and objective control (military professionalism), to ensure that the military acts in concordance with societal needs, but at the same time is able to respond to current and future realities and threats. For now, this is of little concern to South Africans. For almost three decades the focus of politicians has been not on the effectiveness of defence but rather on gaining control of the military and ensuring that it is representative of society. Political transformation has focused on racial representation through two key processes, integration and affirmative action. In terms of integration, the political appointment of former MK/APLA members to senior leadership has ensured that the political control of the military is firmly in the hand of the ruling party. Few would dispute the fact that, particularly under the Zuma administration, a culture of neo-patrimonialism has taken hold, which has undermined military professionalism. Where senior appointments are made based largely on political loyalties and demographics, rather than on expertise and competency, military functioning and effectiveness are inevitably eroded. The question is, for how long will this continue? In the next five years, the old guard will retire, opening up spaces to those not linked to any former force. Perhaps a new culture based on merit, valuing diversity and inclusion will emerge, bringing forth a different form of command, control and leadership, which has hitherto been lacking. All this needs to balance other economic, political, social and financial pressures, both present and past. One of the most difficult challenges outside the military barracks is how to address the needs of those soldiers demobilised, rationalised or not integrated into the SANDF—the military veterans. During the first two ANC administrations, they felt a sense of abandonment, protesting on numerous occasions to highlight their feelings of neglect and resentment at having fought for democracy but not having benefited from it. Military veterans returning from exile, in particular, faced many challenges in reintegrating economically, politically and socially into South African society. They not only lacked transferable skills but also carried with them the lasting effects of military socialisation, which affected their employment opportunities. This is not unique to MK/APLA veterans, but to all the other veterans who experience the difficult transition to civilian life after a period of military service. However, it is particularly the MK military veterans, who have pro- tested and at times acted like a military militia, that have been of political concern. 156 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections

Veterans form a powerful political bloc, as seen in their support for Jacob Zuma. Pressure on Zuma to keep his promises to address their plight led to the establishment of the Department of Veterans Affairs. Over the years, veterans’ actions and demands have placed immense pressure on the state to roll out benefits in the form of payouts, housing and bursaries—to all military veterans. How the issue of military veterans’ benefits is managed, or mismanaged, is a matter of national concern, given their influence and potential to destabilise society. While this is not likely at present, as their demands are being addressed, increases in the DMV budget places a huge strain on state resources and may not be sustainable in years to come. Competing demands among the different segments of military veterans, including conscripts traumatised by the Border War, and former white SADF veterans who feel politically and economically marginalised in South Africa, add another dimension to military veterans’ concerns. While this is a political tax the country needs to pay, it does place an additional financial constraint on the SANDF in terms of its resources. Compared to the challenges posed by organisational and political transformation outlined above, issues of cultural and human-resource transformation stemming from legislative reforms have been comparatively easier. In 1996, the White Paper on Defence, titled ‘Defence in Democracy’, implied that the military adheres to the principles enshrined in the Bill of Rights in the Constitution. This placed legal and political pressure on the SANDF to bring all its policies and practices in line with societal values. One of the key principles included the eradication of all forms of gender discrimination, which resulted in the removal of barriers affecting the equal employment of women in the SANDF. The opening-up of all positions, including combat branches, to women initially evoked resistance but over time these debates moderated as women have proven their ability to serve in all occupations and spe- cialisations, including combat. Nonetheless, the rapid increase and promotion of women, based on gender and racial quotas, remains a sensitive topic. The SANDF remains a very masculine institution, where women come under tremendous performance pressure and find it difficult to shift gender binaries and challenge the existing power relations rooted in patriarchy and sexism. What the figures do not show is how, or if at all, this has affected meritocracy in terms of the overall effectiveness of the SANDF as its numbers increase. Nor do they reveal how women are expected to navigate military culture in order to fit in, and how this affects attrition, the ability to infuse alternative values, or to bring about a reform of military culture. While great strides have been made in changing the gender profile of the SANDF, women still need to conform to the standards, norms and values of a masculine institution. This makes it exceedingly difficult for women to function as equals, as they continue to be ‘othered’ based on gender binaries associated with femininities and masculinities. While their contribution to peacekeeping operations is recognised and valued, in some contexts they continue to be regarded as a ‘gendered’ security risk. Rape and the threat of sexual violence in hostile peacekeeping contexts continue to cast them as vulnerable ‘soldiers’, physically and mentally, and incapable of protecting themselves. Such discourses keep women in their place and reinforce gender inequality. As their numbers increase, these discourses are being challenged, but 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections 157 there is still some way to go in addressing those aspects of military culture that denigrate women and perpetuate their subordination. Besides having to accommodate women, the SANDF was pressurised to comply with another provision enshrined in the Constitution, namely, the adherence to fair labour practices. As described in Chap. 8, when the different armed forces were integrated into the new SANDF, the decision was taken not to test military personnel for HIV/AIDS as part of their comprehensive health assessment. The implication was that infection rates within the military remained elusive, and it was not until 1997 that the multilayered effect of the disease became known. Approximately 10 years after integration, infection rates and death statistics indicated that more than a quarter of military personnel were infected with the disease. How to deal with large numbers of personnel who are not health-compliant has posed a major challenge to the SANDF. The effect is felt on all generic personnel processes, from force procurement and force preparation to employment and force sustainment. At each level, there are costs associated with health care, training costs and replacement that place a strain on the resources of the SANDF. To some extent, these effects have been mitigated over the years through the active management of the disease through donor funding and provision of ART. A commendable effort has been made to manage, educate, prevent and monitor this disease, reducing infection rates within the ranks. Regular testing has increased HIV/AIDS awareness and has enabled the SANDF to provide those infected and affected by the disease with the necessary medical, psychological and social support. Moreover, surveillance of disease prevention, prevalence and progression has meant that the SANDF is able to make informed decisions about force preparedness, readiness and whether HIV-positive soldiers can be deployed on peacekeeping missions. For this to take place, HIV testing is imperative, but it remains a highly controversial issue, especially where a positive result involves exclusion from recruitment, contract renewal, acceptance on a military course and deployment on peacekeeping operations. Still, few can dispute that having significant number of people ill, absent from work, unfit for training and not qualifying for deployment erodes the organisational capacity of the SANDF. Yet, there has been no implosion or hollowing-out of the military, as many predicted a decade ago, due to the management of HIV/AIDS as a chronic disease, not unlike that of diabetes. Another controversial issue confronting the SANDF was the need to accommodate military unions. Just as the SANDF was undergoing the process of rationalisation and restructuring, it was confronted with the possibility of unionisation. The insecurities at the time created both the mood and motive among personnel to unionise, but evoked vehement resistance from military leadership, who stated that allowing members to belong to trade unions would subvert military discipline, disrupt the chain of command, and erode the military ethos. These arguments did not stand the test of reason in the Constitutional Court, which in 1999 ruled in favour of allowing military personnel to belong to trade unions and granted them the right to collective bargaining. This provided the legal opportunity to organise, and the defence force was compelled to promulgate regulations to accommodate military unions, granting them wide scope over issues subject to collective bargaining. 158 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections

Right from the onset, the relationship with the military unions has been fraught with difficulties. The aggressive stance of the unions resulted in employee relations being typically defined as confrontational pluralism. In turn, the military leadership have been unrelenting in their unitarist stance, making it difficult to reach consensus or move towards a more cooperative approach to employee relations. Few soldiers want unions, but there is tacit support for the vehement manner in which they challenge military leadership and the executive when or where their rights or interests are violated. The military unions have taken the SANDF to court over issues of racism, misuse of military resources, poor human resource management and unfair labour practices, and in highlighting the multiple grievances of soldiers that remained largely unresolved. Due mainly to their pressure, the DoD instituted the DFSC and eventually established the office of the Military Ombud, though after many years. How effective these structures will be is yet to be seen. Current budget constraints and a declining defence budget mean that the DFSC will be hard-pressed to deliver on its mandate. The office of the Military Ombud is well-resourced and functional, but is unlikely to obviate the need for military unions. The ideal would be for all three—the DFSC, Military Ombud and military unions— to work together in a more cooperative manner to improve the management of employee relations in the DoD. The hostility towards the unions and the unions’ confrontational stance rules out this possibility at present, but this may not be a bad thing. What the military unions have shown over the years is that they are an important voice and outlet for military personnel to hold military leadership, the executive and other actors to account. Military unions pose no threat to national security, contrary to the claims made by some, and silencing them will do democracy and society an injustice, given their role in bringing matters into the public domain. In this book I have attempted to capture the complexity of the transition and transformations the South African military underwent since the end of the Cold War and demise of apartheid. While by no means complete, the various processes highlighted indicate the extent to which change has occurred, and the various factors contributing to the current state of critical decline within the SANDF. Major errors of judgement have been made, most often not by the military alone, but influenced by history and political circumstances. The decision to configure the military for its primary function, namely, defence against aggression, cost the country and the military pro- foundly. While the SANDF has been able to perform a wide range of tasks within the confines of its primary mandate, not being structured, equipped and prepared for these roles has strained it beyond capacity. Whether these lessons learned carry forth into the future force design remains to be seen. The 2015 Defence Review has mapped out the security landscape, but in the current political and economic climate, it will take great ingenuity to restructure the armed forces to meet even the most key obligations, yet to be defined. Ultimately, the reality is that budget is going to dictate future strategy, not the other way round – well at least not for the time being. One positive aspect of the present situation is that the major political challenges faced by the Defence Force during the transition to democracy in 1994 and thereafter have been dealt with. Civil-military relations are relatively stable, although the effectiveness of civil control and the civil-military gap pose other challenges that 10 Conclusion: Critical Reflections 159 affect the functioning of the military in different ways. Politically, the military is seen as a legitimate force, representative of society, although whites feel increasingly alienated from it, with few remaining in, or enlisting in, the SANDF. Other human-resource issues, specifically related to managing military veterans, gender integration, HIV/AIDS and military unions, remain contentious but on the whole have been relatively effectively managed (except for the unions), given the resource constraints. For the SANDF, a far more pressing task is to return to the ‘hard’ issues that affect defence transformation and the future roles and functions of the military, given the current security threats facing the citizens. For more than 25 years, defence transformation has focused on the role and nature of defence in democracy, where the prime focus has been on political, cultural and human-resource matters. As the country enters a new era under the Ramaphosa administration, the SANDF stands on the brink of yet another major period of defence transformation, which can now focus on matters of defence and security. Tough decisions need to be made in terms of personnel cuts, rejuvenation and equipping the armed forces. Decisive, strong leadership is needed from politicians, military leadership and civil society to march the SANDF in the right direction. The time has come for crucial debate and engagement on the state of defence and security in this country. We may not be living in a time of war, but there certainly is no peace and security. In an increasingly volatile and insecure world, the implication of South Africa’s ‘disinvestment’ in defence is a risky choice in this era of uncertainty. Bibliography

1. Abiew FK, Keeting T (1999) NGOs and UN peacekeeping operations: strange bedfellows. Int Peacekeeping 6(2):89–111 2. Alchin A (2015) Are women making a difference in peacekeeping operations? Considering the voices of South African women peacekeepers. MA thesis, Department of Political Science, Stellenbosch University 3. Alden C (2002) Making old soldiers fade away: lessons from the reintegration of demobilized soldiers in Mozambique. Secur Dialogue 33(3):341–356 4. Alexander M (2018) Infographic HIV/AIDS in South Africa 1990–2016. South African Gateway, 14 April 2018. https://southafrica-gateway.com/infographics/infographic-hiv-aids- south-africa-1990-2016/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 5. Alexander MG (2000) The militarisation of South African White Society, 1948–1990. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 30(2):266–289 6. amaBhungane and Scorpio (2017) GuptaLeaks: how Guptas picked up ANC military vets’ conference tab. Daily Maverick, 18 July 2017. https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2017- 07-18-scorpio-amabhungane-guptaleaks-how-guptas-picked-up-anc-military-vets-conference-tab/#.WW-W5U2wfIW. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 7. Anderson RC (1997) Staffing and training the SA army of the future. Afr Secur Rev 6(3):58–65 8. Anderson RC (2018) SA, look after your soldiers. The Citizen, 10 May 2018. https://citizen. co.za/news/opinion/1921038/sa-look-after-your-soldiers/. Accessed 14 Aug 2019 9. Andres M, Moelker R (2011) There and back again: how parental experiences affect children’s adjustments in the course of military deployments. Armed Forces Soc 37(3):418–447 10. Ani NC (2018) Is the African Standby Force any closer to being deployed? ISS Today, 2 November 2018. https://issafrica.org/iss-today/is-the-african-standby-force-any-closer-to- being-deployed. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 11. Anonymous (2009) Soldiers wreck their own case. Sunday Times, 6 September 2009 12. Anonymous (2012) SA peacekeeper killed in Darfur Ambush identified. The Star, 19 October 2012. https://www.iol.co.za/the-star/sa-peacekeeper-killed-in-darfur-ambush-identified-1406457. Accessed 25 July 2019 13. Archer EM (2013) The power of gendered stereotypes in the US Marine Corps. Armed Forces Soc 39(2):359–381 14. Avant D (2005) Private security companies. New Polit Econ 10(1):121–131 15. Bach DC (2011) Patrimonialism and neopatrimonialism: comparative trajectories and readings. Commonwealth Comp Politics 49(3):275–295 16. Ballantyne I (1983) Military unionism: its potential for development in the Australian armed forces in the 1980s. Defence Force J 39:3–10

© Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 161 L. Heinecken, South Africa’s Post-Apartheid Military, Advanced Sciences and Technologies for Security Applications, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-33734-6 162 Bibliography

17. Bartle R, Heinecken L (eds) (2006) Military unionism in the post-Cold War era: a future reality? Routledge Press, London 18. Baynham S (1990) Defence and security issues in a transitional South Africa. Int Aff Bull 14(3):1–14 19. Bazergan R (2004) HIV/AIDS policies and programmes for blue helmets. Research paper, Institute for Security Studies, 2 November 2004. https://issafrica.org/research/papers/hiv- aids-policies-and-programmes-for-blue-helmets. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 20. Bergman BP, Burdett HJ, Greenberg N (2014) Service life and beyond – institution or culture. RUSI J 159(5):60–68 21. Blaauw J (2009) The SA Army’s experience in Sudan. Afr Armed Forces J:10–13 22. Bøås M (2009) Terminology associated with political violence and asymmetric warfare. In: Okumu W, Botha A (eds) Domestic terrorism in Africa: defining, addressing and understanding its impact on human security. Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria, pp 7–13 23. Bolton EE, Litz BT, Michael Gleen D, Orisillo S, Roemer L (2002) The impact of homecoming reception on the adaptation of peacekeepers following deployment. Mil Psychol 14(3):241–251 24. Booth B, Segal MW, Bruce Bell D (2007) What we know about army families: 2007 Update. Report prepared for the US Army Family and Morale, Welfare and Recreation Command by ICF International 25. Born H (2003) Democratic control of armed forces. In: Caforio G (ed) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher, New York, pp 150–165 26. Bosch S, Maritz M (2011) South African private security contractors active in armed conflicts: citizenship, prosecution and the right to work. Potschefstroomse Elektroniese Regsblad 14(7). http://www.scielo.org.za/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1727-37812011000700004. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 27. Bosielo JLO Unpacking the judgement on military trade unions in South Africa. In: van Harte EL, Breakfast N, Fonseca RS, Theletsane KI, van Diemel RA (eds) Bridging the gap: advancing civil–military relations to deepen democracy, civil–military relations conference 2016 proceedings. Stellenbosch, African Sun Media, p 2018 28. Boulter RS (2000) Afrikaner nationalism in Action: F.C. Erasmus and South Africa’s Defence Forces, 1948–1959. Nations Nationalism 6(3):437–459 29. Bourdieu P (1990) The logic of practice. Stanford University Press, Stanford 30. Bowling UB, Sherman MD (2008) Welcoming them home: supporting service members and their families in navigating the tasks of reintegration. Prof Psychol Res Pract 39(4):451–458 31. Brownson C (2014) The battle for equivalency: female US marines discuss sexuality, physical fitness and military leadership. Armed Forces Soc 40(40):765–788 32. Bruwer N (2016) Military psychology and peacekeeping operations. In: van Dyk GAJ (ed) Military psychology for Africa. Sun Press, Stellenbosch, pp 43–66 33. Burk J (1998) Thinking through the end of the Cold War. In: Burk J (ed) The adaptive military: armed forces in a turbulent world. Piscataway, Transaction Publishers, pp 25–48 34. Burk J (2002) Theories of democratic civil–military relations. Armed Forces Soc 29(1):7–29 35. Butler J (2007) Gender trouble: feminism and the subversion of identity. Routledge, London 36. Bwalya H, Hendricks C (2012) The military veterans act of 2011: promising more than can be delivered? ISS Today, 21 May 2012. https://issafrica.org/iss-today/the-military-veterans-act- of-2011-promising-more-than-can-be-delivered. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 37. Caforio G (2003) Unionization of the military: representation of the interests of military personnel. In: Caforio G (ed) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Kluwer Academic/ Plenum Publisher, New York, pp 377–389 38. Callister G (2007) Patriotic duty or resented imposition? Public reactions to military conscription in White South Africa, 1952–1972. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 35(1):14–66 39. Carey HF (2001) ‘Women and peace and security: the politics of implementing gender sensitivity norms in peacekeeping. Int Peacekeeping 8(2):49–68 Bibliography 163

40. Carreiras H (2008) From loyalty to dissent: how military women respond to integration dilemmas. In: Carreiras H, Kümmel G (eds) Women in the military and in armed conflict. Springer, Wiesbaden, pp 161–181 41. Carreiras H (2006) Gender and the military: women in the armed forces of Western democracies. Routledge Press, London/New York 42. Carreiras H (2010) Gendered culture in peacekeeping operations. Int Peacekeeping 17(4):471–485 43. Cawthra G (1997) Securing South Africa’s democracy: defence development and security in transition. Macmillan, London 44. Cawthra G (2005) Security governance in South Africa. Afr Secur Rev 14(3):95–105 45. Centre for Conflict Resolution (CCR) (2006) HIV/AIDS and Militaries in Southern Africa. Seminar report no. 10 from policy advisory group seminar, Windhoek, Namibia, 9 and 10 February 2006. http://www.ccr.org.za/index.php/media-release/reports/seminar-reports/ item/836-hiv-aids-and-militaries-in-southern-africa. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 46. Chuter D (2000) Defence transformation: a short guide to the issues. ISS monograph series, no. 49, 1 August 2000. https://issafrica.org/research/monographs/monograph-49-defence- transformation-a-short-guide-to-the-issues-by-david-chuter. Accessed 6 Aug 2019 47. Cilliers J, Heinecken L (1999) South Africa: emerging from a time warp. In: Moskos CC, Williams JA, Segal DR (eds) The postmodern military. Oxford University Press, London, pp 242–264 48. Clarno A, Vally S (2005) IRAQ: the South African connection. CorpWatch, 6 March 2005. http://www.corpwatch.org/article.php?id=12061. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 49. Cock J (1989) Introduction. In: Cock J, Nathan L (eds) War and society: the militarisation of South Africa. Cape Town/Johannesburg, David Philip Publishers, p 2 50. Cock J (1989) Manpower and militarisation: women and the SADF. In: Cock J, Nathan L (eds) War and society: the militarisation of South Africa. Cape Town, David Philip Publishers, pp 28–50 51. Cock J (1991) Colonels & cadres: war and gender in South Africa. Oxford University Press, Cape Town 52. Cock J (1993) The social integration of demobilized soldiers in contemporary South Africa. S Afr Defence Rev 2(12):1–17 53. Cock J (1994) Women and the military: implications for demilitarisation in the 1990s in South Africa. Gend Soc 8(2):152–169 54. Cock J (1995) Forging a new army out of old enemies: women in the South African Military. Women’s Stud Q 23(3/4):97–111 55. Cock J (2001) Gun violence and masculinity in contemporary South Africa. In: Morrell R (ed) Changing men in Southern Africa. University of Natal Press, Pietermaritzburg, pp 43–56 56. Cock J (2004) Rethinking militarism in post-apartheid South Africa. Crises States Programme working paper series no. 1. Working Paper no. 43, pp 3–19. https://www.files.ethz.ch/ isn/57494/WP43.pdf. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 57. Cohn C (2013) Women and wars. Polity Press, Cambridge 58. Cohn LP (1999) The evolution of the “Civil–Military Gap” Debate. Paper prepared for the TISS Project on the Gap between the Military and Civilian Society. http://static1.1.sqspcdn. com/static/f/1472877/18563652/1338821276343/Cohn_Evolution+of+Gap+Debate+1999. pdf?token=ZXd3nSw9QsnvqUFv6HyHpgiw4yM%3D. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 59. Connable B (2009) All our eggs in a broken basket: how the human terrain system is undermining sustainable military competence. Mil Rev 89:57–64 60. Connell M, Omole O, Subramaney U, Olorunju S (2013) Post traumatic stress disorder and resilience in veterans who served in the South African Border War. Afr J Psychiatry 16(6):430–436 61. Corcoran B (2011) Anti-apartheid veterans left in the lurch. The Irish Times, 1 October 2011. http://www.irishtimes.com/news/anti-apartheid-veterans-left-in-the-lurch-1.611906. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 164 Bibliography

62. Corum J (1995) Operational problems in peacekeeping and humanitarian operations. In: Cilliers J, Mills G (eds) Peacekeeping in Africa, vol 2. Institute for Defence Policy, Halfway House, pp 119–134 63. Council of Military Veterans (2017) Organizations of the Republic of South Africa. National Service Debrief. Council for Military Veterans. Organizations of the Republic of South Africa, 2017. http://www.cmvo.org.za/wmenu.php. Accessed 31 Aug 2019 64. D’Amelio R, Tuerlings E, Perito O, Biselli R, Natalicchio S, Kingma S (2001) A global review of legislation on HIV/AIDS: the issue of HIV testing. J Acquir Immune Defic Syndr 28(2):173–179 65. Dandeker C (1998) A farewell to arms?: the military and the nation-state in a changing world. In: Burk J (ed) The adaptive military: armed forces in a turbulent world. Transaction Publishers, Piscatway 66. Dandeker C (1999) Facing uncertainty: flexible forces for the twenty-first century. Klaria Tryckeri, Karlstad 67. Dandeker C, Edmonds M, Higgs J, Paton F (1997) Bett and beyond: a reaction, response and commentary. Centre for Defence and International Studies, Lancaster 68. Dandeker C, Gow J (2000) Strategic peacekeeping and military culture. In: Schmidl EA (ed) Peace operations between war and peace, 1st edn. Frank Cass, London, pp 58–79 69. Dandeker C, Wessely S, Iversen A, Ross J (2003) Improving the delivery of cross departmental support and services for veterans. Report by Department of War Studies, Kings College, University of London 70. Dandeker C (2006) What’s in a name? Defining and caring for “Veterans”: The United Kingdom in international perspective. Armed Forces Soc 32(2):161–177 71. Danish SJ, Antonides BJ (2013) The challenges of reintegration for service members and their families. Am J Orthopsychiatry 83(4):550–558 72. Davies R, O’Meara D (1987) Total strategy in Southern Africa: an analysis of South African regional policy since 1978. J South Afr Stud 11(2):183–211 73. Davis R (2019) Army deployed as gang violence escalates to unprecedented levels and residents cry out for help. Daily Maverick, 12 July 2019. https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/ article/2019-07-12-army-deployed-as-gang-violence-escalates-to-unprecedented-levels-and- residents-cry-out-for-help/. Accessed 26 July 2019 74. Defence (Joint NA and NCOP) Committee (2019) Defence joint committee legacy report: sector analysis. 23 August 2019. https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/28745/?via=homepage- card. Accessed 28 Aug 2019 75. Defence (Joint NA and NCOP) Committee (2004) Defence review: department briefing meeting minutes. 17 August 2004. https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/3808/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 76. Defence Force Service Commission (2016) Defence Force Service Commission, Annual Report FY2015/2016. http://pmg-assets.s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/DFSC_ Annual_Report_2015_to_2016.pdf. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 77. Defence Force Service Commission (2017) Recommendation by the Defence Force Service Commission Pay and Service Benefits Committee (DFSC-PSBC) on the Delinking Salary from Rank. Department of Defence, Pretoria 78. DefenceWeb (2009) SANDF cleared for borderline control. DefenceWeb, 29 May 2009. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sandf-cleared-for-borderline-control/. Accessed 27 Aug 2019 79. DefenceWeb (2010) 14 SA peace missions in 11 Years. DefenceWeb, 27 August 2010. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/14-sa-peace-missions-in- 11-years/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 80. DefenceWeb (2010) Sisulu firm on de-unionising the SANDF. DefenceWeb, 6 December 2010. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sisulu-firm-on-de- unionising-sandf/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 81. DefenceWeb (2011) SASFU deregistered. DefenceWeb, 28 March 2011. https://www. defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/sasfu-deregistered/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 Bibliography 165

82. DefenceWeb (2013) Guptagate moves to the military courts. DefenceWeb, 2 September 2013. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/guptagate-moves-to-military-court/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 83. DefenceWeb (2016) Military medical task team recommendations being implemented. DefenceWeb, 17 March 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa- defence/military-medical-task-team-recommendations-being-implemented/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 84. DefenceWeb (2016) Military trade union is “provocative” – SANDF chief. DefenceWeb, 4 April 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/military-trade- union-is-provocative-sandf-chief/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 85. DefenceWeb (2016) SA Army under strength: personnel cuts needed elsewhere in SANDF – Expert. DefenceWeb, 6 April 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence- sa-defence/sa-army-under-strength-personnel-cuts-needed-elsewhere-in-sandf-expert/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 86. DefenceWeb (2016) Sudan government forced South African Withdrawal from UNAMID. DefenceWeb, 13 May 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa- defence-sa-defence/sudan-government-forced-south-african-withdrawal-from-unamid/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 87. DefenceWeb (2016) South African soldier killed in DRC firefight. DefenceWeb, 20 December 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/diplomacy-a-peace/south-african-soldier-killed- in-drc-fire-fight/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 88. DefenceWeb (2017) Military veterans by the numbers. DefenceWeb, 5 May 2017. https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/military-veterans-by-the-numbers/. Accessed 31 Aug 2019 89. DefenceWeb (2018) Ramaphosa approves op copper extension. DefenceWeb, 20 April 2018. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/security/maritime-security/ramaphosa-approves-op-copper- extension/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 90. DefenceWeb (2018) Military health service not financially well. DefenceWeb, 23 May 2018. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/military-health-service- not-financially-well/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 91. DefenceWeb (2018) Feature: SANDF outlines threats, priorities. DefenceWeb, 12 June 2018. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/feature-sandf-outlines- threats-priorities/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 92. DefenceWeb (2018) Reserve force revamp coming. DefenceWeb, 28 August 2018. https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/reserve-force-revamp-coming/. Accessed 14 Aug 2019 93. DefenceWeb (2019) Military veterans budget increases. DefenceWeb, 29 February 2019. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/featured/military-veterans-budget-increases/. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 94. Department of Defence (n.d.) Operation copper: maritime security in the Mozambican Channel. http://www.dod.mil.za/operations/international/operation_copper.htm. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 95. Department of Defence (1996) Defence in a democracy: white paper on national defence for the Republic of South Africa. Department of Defence, Pretoria 96. Department of Defence (2001) Military trade unions: briefing by Department of Defence and Minister. 28 August 2001. https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/723/. Accessed 31 Aug 2019 97. Department of Defence (2002) Safeguarding South Africa for a better life for all. Strategic Plan for FY2002/03 to 2004/05. Department of Defence, Pretoria 98. Department of Defence (2002) Policy on equal opportunities and affirmative action, DOD instruction: Pol and Plan No 00001/1998: 1 October. Department of Defence, Pretoria 99. Department of Defence (2006) Equal opportunities and affirmative action climate survey: 077/IG DOD EA/05-06. Centre for Effect Analysis, Defence Inspectorate, Pretoria 166 Bibliography

100. Department of Defence (2008) Gender mainstreaming strategy, No. 1 of 2008. CHR/ TMCD/R/106/ (July). Department of Defence, Pretoria 101. Department of Defence (2009) Department of defence overarching human resource strategy, Part 1: Strategic direction. Department of Defence, Pretoria 102. Department of Defence (2015) South African National Defence Force Transformation status. Briefing to the joint standing committee on defence, Cape Town, 21 May 2015 103. Department of Defence. Department of Defence Annual Report FY 2015/16. http://pmg- assets.s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/Department_of_Defence_AR_2015_2016.pdf. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 104. Department of Defence. Department of Defence Annual Report 2017/18. http://pmg-assets. s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/2/Department_of_Defence_AR_2017-18.pdf. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 105. Department of Defence (2017) Directorate transformation personnel statistics. Department of Defence, Pretoria 106. Department of Defence (2017) Operation Vimbezela: Department of Defence and South African National Defence Force Briefing. 9 June 2017. https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/24570/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 107. Department of Defence and Military Veterans (2018) Military veterans & dependents education support: Department & NSFAS input: DMV performance. 7 March 2018. https://pmg. org.za/committee-meeting/25924. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 108. Department of Foreign Affairs (1999) White paper on South African participation in international peace missions. 24 February 1999. https://www.gov.za/sites/default/files/gcis_docu- ment/201409/peacemissions1.pdf. Accessed 1 Sept 2019 109. De Vries H, Wiegink N (2011) Breaking up and going home? Contesting two assumptions in the demobilization and reintegration of former combatants. Int Peacekeeping 18(1):38–51 110. De Waal, Alex (2007) The Wars of Sudan. The Nation, 1 March 2007. https://www.thenation. com/article/wars-sudan/. Accessed 15 July 2019 111. De Waal A, Klot JF, Mahajan M, Huber D, Frerks G, M’Boup S (2001) HIV/AIDS, security and conflict: new realities, new responses. AIDS, security and conflict initiative. https:// s3.amazonaws.com/ssrc-cdn1/crmuploads/new_publication_3/%7BE2090D2B-72A8- DE11-9D32-001CC477EC70%7D.pdf. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 112. De Wet P (2012) From bully boys to wimps: the decline of SA’s military. Mail & Guardian, 4 May 2012. https://mg.co.za/article/2012-05-04-lack-of-funds-leaves-sa-vulnerable. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 113. Dorning WA (1987) A concise history of the South African Defence Force (1912–1987). Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 17(2):1–23 114. Dube P, Gifford G (1999) Killing spree triggers rethink on integration. The Sunday Independent, 19 September 1999 115. Duncan J (2012) The danger of the blindly obedient soldier. The South African Civil Society Information Service, 8 May 2012. http://sacsis.org.za/s/story.php?s=1290. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 116. Duncan J (2012) Voice, political mobilization and repression under Jacob Zuma. In: Dawson MC, Sinwell L (eds) Contesting transformation: popular resistance in twenty-first- century South Africa. Pluto Press, London, pp 44–63 117. Duncan, Jane (2014) The rise of the securocrats: the case of South Africa. Jacana Media, Johannesburg 118. Duncanson C, Woodward R (2016) Regendering the military: theorizing women’s military participation. Secur Dialogue 47(1):3–21 119. Du Plessis G (2001) Minutes of the military bargaining council meeting. Meeting minutes from the Military Bargaining Council Meeting, Department of Defence Headquarters, Pretoria, 6 and 14 February 2001 Bibliography 167

120. Du Plessis G 2001 Minutes of the military bargaining council meeting. Meeting minutes from the Military Bargaining Council Meeting, Department of Defence Headquarters, Pretoria, 4–6 July 2001 121. Du Preez M (2016) Of warriors, lovers and prophets: unusual stories from South Africa’s past. Zebra Press, Cape Town 122. Du Toit P (2010) Sisulu contemptuous of parliament. Beeld, 19 August, 2010. https://www. news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/Sisulu-contemptuous-of-Parliament-20100818. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 123. Eastwood V (2013) Bigger than the army: South Africa’s private security forces. CNN, 8 February 2013. https://edition.cnn.com/2013/02/08/business/south-africa-private-security/ index.html. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 124. Ekengard A (2008) The African Union Mission in Sudan (AMIS): experiences and lessons learned. Stockholm, Swedish Defence Research Agency (FOI) 125. Elbe S (2006) Should HIV/AIDS be securitized? The ethical dilemmas of linking HIV/AIDS and security. Int Stud Q 50(1):119–144 126. Elder GH Jr, Clipp EC (1989) Combat experience and emotional health impairment and resilience in later life. J Pers 57(2):312–341 127. Ellis S (1998) The historical significance of South Africa’s Third Force. J South Afr Stud 24(2):261–299 128. Engelbrecht L (2008) Curriculum complete: Nqakula. DefenceWeb, 12 December 2008. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/diplomacy-a-peace/curriculum-complete-nqakula/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 129. Engelbrecht L (2010) SA quietly winds up Burundi peace mission. DefenceWeb, 12 January 2010. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/diplomacy-a-peace/sa-quietly-winds-up-burundi- peace-mission/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 130. Engelbrecht L (2011) SANDF to Spend R48m on combatting HIV/AIDS this year. DefenceWeb, 6 January 2011. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa- defence/sandf-to-spend-r48m-on-combating-hivaids-this-year/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 131. Erdmann G, Engel U (2007) Neopatrimonialism reconsidered: critical review and elaboration of an elusive concept. Commonwealth Comp Politics 45(91):95–119 132. Eriksson-Baaz M, Stern M (2013) Sexual violence as a weapon of war? Perceptions, prescriptions, problems in the Congo and beyond. Zed Books, London 133. Esterhuyse A (2006) Professional military education and training: challenges facing the South African military. Def Stud 6(3):377–399 134. Esterhuyse A (2010) Getting the job done: transformation in the South African Military. Strateg Rev S Afr 32(1):1–30 135. Esterhuyse A (2012) Comparing apples with pears: the pre-1994 and post-1994 South African military cultures. J Contemp Hist 37(2):224–241 136. Esterhuyse A (2015) Interview by author, 9 April 2015 137. Esterhuyse A (2016) Human security and the conceptualisation of South African defence: time for a reappraisal. Strateg Rev S Afr 38(1):29–48 138. Esterhuyse A (2017) Money has little to do with why South Africa’s military is failing to do its job. The Conversation, 19 July 2017. https://theconversation.com/money-has-little-to-do- with-why-south-africas-military-is-failing-to-do-its-job-81216. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 139. Esterhuyse A (2019) The domestic employment of the military in a democratic South Africa: time for a debate. Afr Secur Rev 28:1–10 140. Esterhuyse A, Heinecken L (2012) Report to the Chief of the SA Army on the Military Culture and Institutional Ethos of the South African Army. Faculty of Military Science, Stellenbosch 141. Etheridge J (2019) SANDF headscarf case: Muslim major may get interim relief as policy talks continue. News24, 18 July 2019. https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/News/sandf-headscarf-case-muslim-members-may-get-interim-relief-as-policy-talks-continue-20190718. Accessed 26 July 2019 168 Bibliography

142. European Organisation of Military Associations and Trade Unions (EUROMIL). http:// euromil.org/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 143. Farnham D, Pimlott J (1995) In: 5th (ed) Understanding industrial relations. Cassell, London/ New York 144. Feaver PD (1999) Civil–military relations. Annu Rev Polit Sci 2:211–241 145. Feinstein Y (2015) The thin line between “crazy” and “hero”: exploring the multiple statuses of US veterans in a work-therapy programme. Armed Forces Soc 41(1):3–22 146. Feldman RL (2008) Problems plaguing the African Union peacekeeping forces. Defence Secur Anal 24(3):267–279 147. Ferreira R, Liebenberg I (2004) Civil–military relations and arms procurement in South Africa: 1994–2002. Soc Transit 35(1):61–86 148. Fokkens AM (2006) The role and application of the Union Defence Force in the suppression of internal unrest. MMil thesis, Department of Military Science, Stellenbosch University 149. Fourie D (1996) New South Africa and the armed forces. In: Faure M, Lane J-E (eds) South Africa: designing new political institutions. Sage Publishing, London 150. Fourie D (2015) Email correspondence with author, 20 April, 2015 151. Frankel P (1984) Pretoria’s praetorians: civil-military relations in South Africa. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 152. Frankel P (1998) Marching to the millennium: the birth, development and transformation of the South African National Defence Force. South African Department of Defence Communications, Pretoria 153. Friedman R (1994) Soldiers. The Argus, 3 Sept 1994 154. Frost G (2001) How to destroy an army: the cultural subversion of Britain’s Armed Forces. In: Alexandrou A, Bartle R, Homes R (eds) New people strategies for the British Armed Forces. Frank Cass, London, pp 37–48 155. Gaw KF (2000) Reverse culture shock in students returning from overseas. Int J Intercult Relat 24(1):83–104 156. Gear S (2002) Now that the war is over. Ex-combatants’ transition and the question of violence: a literature review, Violence and transition series. Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, Johannesburg 157. Gear S (2002) Wishing us away: challenges facing ex-combatants in the ‘New’ South Africa, Violence and transition series. Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, Johannesburg 158. Geldenhuys J (2009) At the front: a general’s account of South Africa’s Border War. Jonathan Ball Publishers, Johannesburg 159. Geyer R (2014) The Union Defence Force and the 1914 Strike: the dynamics of the shadow of the Burgher. Historia 59(2):136–151 160. Gibson E (2017) Gewese “parabats” kry kibboets-hawe. Rapport, 26 March 2017 161. Gibson E (2018) Email correspondence with author, 6 June 2018 162. Githahu M (2019) SANDF major’s hijab charges a violation of her rights. IOL, 26 June 2019. https://www.iol.co.za/capeargus/news/sandf-majors-hijab-charges-a-violation-of-her- rights-27631788. Accessed 26 July 2019 163. Goldstein J (2001) War and gender. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 164. Gossmann AM (2008) Lost in transition: the South African military and counterinsurgency. Small Wars Insurgencies 19(4):541–574 165. Gossmann AM (2010) Lost COIN: the erosion of counterinsurgency in the South African Army. In: Baker D-P, Jordaan E (eds) South Africa and contemporary counterinsurgency: roots, practices and prospects. UCT Press, Cape Town, pp 136–151 166. Gray CS (2007) Irregular warfare: one nature, many characters. Strateg Stud Q 1(2):35–57. https://www.airuniversity.af.edu/Portals/10/SSQ/documents/Volume-01_Issue-2/gray.pdf. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 167. Greene T, Buckman J, Dandeker C, Neil G (2010) The impact of culture clash on deployed troops. Mil Med 175(12):958–963 Bibliography 169

168. Greig A (2001) Prevention of HIV/AIDS in the South African Armed Forces: addressing high-risk sexual behaviours caused by gender roles. EngenderHealth, Johannesburg 169. Griffiths RJ (1995) South African civil–military relations in transition: issues and influences. Armed Forces Soc 21(3):395–410 170. Grundlingh A (1999) The King’s Afrikaners? Enlistment and ethnic identity in the Union of South Africa’s Defence Force during the Second World War, 1939–45. J Afr Hist 40(3):351–365 171. Hallenbeck R (1977) Civil supremacy and the military union: the systematic implications. In: Taylor WJ, Arango RJ, Lockwood RS (eds) Military unions: U.S. trends and issues. Sage Publications, Beverly Hills/London, pp 233–244 172. Hampton D (2014) Creating sustainable peacekeeping capability in Africa. Africa security brief no. 27, 30 April 2014. https://africacenter.org/publication/creating-sustainable-peacekeeping-capability-in-africa/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 173. Harding A (2015) Guptagate: the scandal South Africa’s Zuma can’t Shake. BBC News, 21 January 2015. http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-30923275. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 174. Harries-Jenkins G (1977) Trade unions in armed forces. In: Taylor W, Arango R, Lockwood R (eds) Military unions: U.S. trends and issues. Sage Publications, Beverly Hills/London, pp 54–73 175. Harrison DA, Price KH, Bell MP (1998) Beyond relational demography: time and the effects of surface and deep-level diversity on work group cohesion. Acad Manag J 41(1):96–107 176. Hartley W (2011) Military veterans bill passed for all recruits. Business Day, 17 August 2011 177. Hassim S (2006) The ANC women’s league. University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, Scottsville 178. Haysom S, Shaw M (2019) Understanding Cape Town’s gang problem and why a military crackdown could make things worse. News24, 14 July 2019. https://www.news24.com/ Columnists/GuestColumn/understanding-cape-towns-gang-problem-and-why-a-military- crackdown-could-make-things-worse-20190714. Accessed 27 July 2019 179. Healthlink Worldwide (2002) Combat Aids: HIV and the world’s armed forces. Healthlink Worldwide, London 180. Heideman L (2006) The struggle for democracy and ex-combatants in South Africa. In: Everatt D (ed) Only useful until democracy: reintegrating ex-combatants in post-apartheid South Africa with lessons from Kosovo & Zimbabwe. Kalk Bay, Atlantic Philanthropies, pp 149–166 181. Heinecken L (1997) Is selfless service becoming a misplaced service ethic? Attitudes of officers serving in the South African National Defence Force. Soc Transit 28(1–4):43–53 182. Heinecken L (1997) No unions we’re the SANDF: but what’s the alternative. Afr Secur Rev 6(6):19–27 183. Heinecken L (1998) The impact of societal forces on receptiveness to trade unions in the SANDF. Afr Insight 28(1/2):84–89 184. Heinecken L (1999) Managing diversity in an unequal society: the challenges facing the SANDF. In: Soeters J, van der Meulen J (eds) Managing diversity in armed forces: experience from nine countries. Tilburg University Press, Tilburg, pp 187–210 185. Heinecken L (2002) Affirming gender equality: the challenges facing the South African Armed Forces. Curr Sociol 50(5):715–728 186. Heinecken L (2002) Preparing for operations other than war: how equipped is the SANDF to deal with soft missions. Strateg Rev S Afr 24(1):63–90 187. Heinecken L (2003) Facing a merciless enemy: HIV/AIDS and the South African Armed Forces. Armed Forces Soc 29(2):281–300 188. Heinecken L (2007) Managing diversity in the South African Armed Forces. In: Soeters J, van der Meulen J (eds) Managing diversity in armed forces. Routledge, London, pp 77–94 189. Heinecken L (2009) A diverse society, a representative military? The complexity of managing diversity in the South African Armed Forces. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 37(1):25–49 190. Heinecken L (2009) Discontent within the ranks?: officers’ attitudes toward military employment and representation – a four country comparative study. Armed Forces Soc 43(3):577–500 170 Bibliography

191. Heinecken L (2009) The potential impact of HIV/AIDS on the South African Armed Forces: some evidence from outside and within. Afr Secur Rev 18(2):60–77 192. Heinecken L (2010) Military unionism and the management of employee relations within the armed forces: a comparative perspective. Int J Comp Labour Law Ind Relat 26(4):401–420 193. Heinecken L (2013) Defence transformation and work alienation among white officers in the South African military. Politeia 32(1):4–23 194. Heinecken L (2013) Report on the findings of the defence gender integration and leadership Unpublished report for Chief Directorate Transformation Management, 13 February 2013 195. Heinecken L (2014) Outsourcing public security: the unforeseen consequences for the military profession. Armed Forces Soc 40(4):625–646 196. Heinecken L (2015) Are women “really” making a unique contribution to peacekeeping? The rhetoric and the reality. J Int Peacekeeping 19(4):227–248 197. Heinecken L (2015) Reflections on insider-outsider experiences of military research in South Africa. In: Carreiras H, Castro C, Frederic S (eds) Researching the military. Routledge, London, pp 36–48 198. Heinecken L (2016) Conceptualising the tensions that gender integration evokes: the South African Case. Armed Forces Soc 43(2):1–19 199. Heinecken L (2019) The army is being used to fight Cape Town’s Gangs: why it is a bad idea. The Conversation, 17 July 2019. https://theconversation.com/the-army-is-being-used- to-fight-cape-towns-gangs-why-its-a-bad-idea-120455. Accessed 29 Aug 2019 200. Heinecken L (2019) Soldiers won’t stem gang violence because the army is in a sorry state. The Conversation, 15 August 2019. https://theconversation.com/soldiers-wont-stem-gang- violence-because-south-africas-army-is-in-a-sorry-state-121754. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 201 Heinecken L, Winslow D (2010) The human terrain: the need for cultural intelligence. In: Baker D-P, Jordaan E (eds) South Africa and contemporary counterinsurgency: roots, practices and prospects. UCT Press, Cape Town, pp 197–208 202. Heinecken L, Bwalya H (2013) Compensating military veterans in South Africa. Afr Secur Rev 22(1):30–46 203. Heinecken L, Soeters J (2018) Managing diversity: from exclusion to inclusion and valuing difference. In: Caforio G, Nuciari M (eds) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Springer, Cham, pp 327–340 204. Heinecken L, Nel M (2007) Military unions and the right to collective bargaining: insights from the South African experience. Int J Comp Labour Law Ind Relat 23(3):463–483 205. Heinecken L, Nel M (2009) Human rights and HIV-testing in the South African armed forces: whose rights are paramount? J Hum Rights 8(4):340–359 206. Heinecken L, Wilén N (2019) No place like home? Post-deployment reintegration challenges facing South African peacekeepers Paper presented at the ERGOMAS Conference, Lisbon, Portugal, 17–21 July 2019 207. Heinecken L, van der Waag-Cowling N (2009) The politics of race and gender in the South African Armed Forces: issues, challenges and lessons. Commonwealth Comp Politics 47(4):517–538 208. Heinecken L, Ferreira R (2012) Fighting for peace: South Africa’s role in peace operations in Africa (part I). Afr Secur Rev 21(2):20–35 209. Heinecken L, Ferreira R (2012) Fighting for peace: South Africa’s role in peace operations in Africa (part II). Afr Secur Rev 21(2):36–49 210. Heinecken L, Ferreira R (2012) ‘Fighting for peace: South Africa’s role in peace operations in Africa (part III). Afr Secur Rev 21(2):50–60 211. Heinecken L, Ferreira R (2018) From military profession to no profession: the plight of white unemployment military veterans in South Africa. Paper presented at the XIX ISA world congress of sociology, Toronto, Canada, 15–21 July 2018 212. Heinecken L, Gueli R, Neethling A (2005) Defence, democracy and South Africa’s civil– military gap. Scientia Militaria S Afr J Mil Stud 33(1):119–140 Bibliography 171

213. Heitman HR (2013) South Africa’s deployment to the CAR, DefenceWeb, 9 January 2013. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/military-art-a-science/south-africas-deployment-to-the- car/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 214. Heitman HR (2013) The battle in Bangui: the untold inside story. Parktown Publishers, Johannesburg 215. Heitman HR (2013) How deadly CAR battle unfolded. Sunday Independent, 31 March 2013. https://www.iol.co.za/sundayindependent/how-deadly-car-battle-unfolded-1493841. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 216. Heitman HR (2015) Email correspondence with author, 13 April 2015 217. Heitman HR (2019) SANDF personnel strength. DefenceWeb, 23 April 2019. https://www. defenceweb.co.za/featured/sandf-personnel-strength/. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 218. Heitman HR (2019) Too many generals in the SANDF? DefenceWeb, 26 July 2019. https:// www.defenceweb.co.za/joint/military-art-a-science/too-many-generals-in-the-sandf/. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 219. Helfrich K (2013) SANDF’s Peace Mission Training Centre Enhancing African Peacekeeping. DefenceWeb, 4 July 2013. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/ sandfs-peace-mission-training-centre-enhancing-african-peacekeeping/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 220. Helfrich K (2014) National servicemen to stay on veterans’ database. DefenceWeb, 27 February 2014. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/national- servicemen-to-stay-on-veterans-database/?catid=111%3Asa-defence. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 221. Higate PR (2001) Theorizing continuity: from military to civilian life. Armed Forces Soc 27(3):443–460 222. Higate PR (2007) Peacekeepers, masculinities and sexual exploitation. Men Masculinities 20(1):99–119 223. Holbrooke RC (2000) Battling the AIDS pandemic. Global Issues: Electron J US Dep State 5(2):9–11 224. Holden P (2008) The arms deal in your pocket. Jonathan Ball Publishers, Johannesburg 225. Holmes G (2019) Female military peacekeepers left feeling overwhelmed after inadequate training. The Conversation, 29 May 2019. http://theconversation.com/female-military-peacekeepers-left-feeling-overwhelmed-after-inadequate-training-114887. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 226. Honey P (2002) The battle’s just begun Financial Mail, 7 June 2002 227. Hosken G (2008) SANDF HIV/AIDS rate is 28% Pretoria News, 2 December 2008 228. Houston G, ka Plaatjie T, April T (2015) Military training and camps of the Pan Africanist Congress of South Africa, 1961–1981. Historia 60(1):24–50 229. Hudson H (2000) Mainstreaming gender in peacekeeping operations: can Africa learn from international experience? Afr Secur Rev 9(4):18–33 230. Human L (1996) Managing workforce diversity: a critique and example from South Africa. Int J Manpow 17(4/5):45–64 231. Huntington SP (1957) The soldier and the state: the theory and politics of civil–military relations. The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA 232. Ikpe UB (2000) Patrimonialism and military regimes in Nigeria. Afr J Polit Sci 5(1):146–162 233. Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (2007) Democratic Republic of the Congo: worsening humanitarian crisis as internal displacement escalates in the East. Report, 29 November 2007. https://www.refworld.org/pdfid/474fc61e2.pdf. Accessed 25 July 2019 234. International Institute for Security Studies (IISS) (2005) The South African Military: racism and restructuring. Int Inst Strateg Stud 6(10):1–2 235. Jackson H (1996) The quintessential AIDS in the workplace issue SAfAIDS News Bulletin (June 1996) 236. Jacobs CJ (2006) The forward defence strategy of the South African Defence Force (SADF) 1978–1989. J Contemp Hist 31(1):23–41 237. Janowitz M (1960) The professional soldier: a social and political portrait. The Free Press, Glencoe 172 Bibliography

238. Janse van Rensburg W (2019) Twenty years of democracy: an analysis of parliamentary oversight of the military in South Africa since 1994. PhD dissertation, Faculty of Military Science, Stellenbosch University 239. Jelusic L (2006) Conversion of the military: resource-reuse perspective after the end of the Cold War. In: Caforio G (ed) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Springer, New York, pp 345–360 240. Johnson TM (2019) South Africa’s military at a crossroads. Daily Maverick, 7 January, 2019. https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2019-01-07-south-africas-military-at-a-crossroads/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 241. Jordaan E (2018) South African defence policy: the rationale and impact of the SANDF’s primary role and conventional force design. Def Stud 18(2):188–206 242. Jordan ZP, Maharaj M (2018) South Africa and the turn to armed resistance. S Afr Hist J 70(1):11–26 243. Kaldor M (1999) New and old wars: organized violence in a global era. Polity Press, Cambridge 244. Kilburn RM, Klerman J (1999) Enlistment decisions in the 1990s: evidence from individual- level data. RAND Corporation, Santa Monica 245. King A (2006) The post-fordist military. J Polit Mil Sociol 34(2):359–374 246. King A (2015) Women warriors: female accession to ground combat. Armed Forces Soc 41(2):379–387 247. Kirk P (2002) 60% of SA army may be HIV positive Mail & Guardian, 4 July 2002 248. Kleykamp M (2009) A great place to start? The effect of prior military service on hiring. Armed Forces Soc 35(2):266–285 249. Knobloch LK, Theiss JA (2010) An actor-partner interdependence model of relational turbulence: cognitions and emotions. J Soc Pers Relat 27(5):595–619 250. Koeszegi ST, Zedlacher E, Huudrisbusch R (2014) The war against the female soldier? The effects of masculine culture on workplace aggression. Armed Forces Soc 24(2):266–251 251. Kohn RH (1997) How democracies control the military. J Democr 8(4):140–153 252. Korczynski M, Hodson R, Edwards PK (eds) (2006) Social theory at work. Oxford University Press, Oxford 253. Kotzé Esté (2015) Historical perspectives on masculinity, femininity and the South African Military: gender relations with specific focus on the impact of the South African Army Women’s College and the SADF (1971–1998).’ MA thesis, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, Stellenbosch University, December 254. Kostner M, Bowles EH (2004) Veterans: pensions and other compensation in post-conflict countries. World Bank, Washington, DC 255. Kramm N (2016) Youth and military service: exploring the effects of military socialisation, reintegration and employment. MA thesis, Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, Stellenbosch University 256. Kramm N, Heinecken L (2015) We are different now? The effect of military service on youth reintegration and employment in South Africa. Afr Secur Rev 24(2):122–137 257. Krebs RR (2004) A school for the nation? How military services does not build nations, and how it might. Int Secur 28(4):85–124 258. Kronsell A (2005) Gendered practices in institutions of hegemonic masculinity. Int Fem J Polit 7(2):280–298 259. Kuzwayo J (1998) Developing mechanisms for civilian oversight over the armed forces. Afr Secur Rev 7(5):54–61 260. Lacey M (1989) Platskiet Politiek: the role of the Union Defence Force (UDF) 1910–1924. In: Cock J, Nathan L (eds) War and society: the militarisation of South Africa. Cape Town, David Philip Publishers, pp 28–50 261. Lamb G (2003) From military to civilian life. Track Two 12(1):39–62 262. Lambert A (2009) Democratic civilian control of armed forces in the post-Cold War era. LIT Verlag, Berlin Bibliography 173

263. Le Roux L (2005) The post-apartheid South African Military: transforming with the nation. In: Rupiya M (ed) Revolutions and evolutions: a contemporary history of militaries in Southern Africa. Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria, pp 235–266 264. Le Roux L (2007) The revision of the South African defence review and international trends in forces design: implications for the SA Army. In: le Roux L (ed) South African Army Vision 2020: security challenges shaping the future South African Army. Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria 265. Levy Y (2016) What is controlled by civilian control of the military? Control of the military vs. control of militarization. Armed Forces Soc 42(1):75–98 266. Licklinder RE (2014) New armies from old: merging competing military forces after civil wars. Georgetown University Press, Washington, DC 267. Liebenberg I (1997) The integration of the military in post-liberation South Africa: the contribution of revolutionary armies. Armed Forces Soc 24(1):105–132 268. Liebenberg I, Ferreira R (2002) Loyal service and yet “Demobbed”: demobilization and the economic reintegration of South Africa’s demobilised military personnel. J Asian Afr Stud 37(3–5):299–317 269. Lopes H (2011) Militarized masculinity in peacekeeping operations: an obstacle to gender mainstreaming. PeaceBuild background paper, 2011. https://peacebuild.org/Lopes%20web- site%20ready.pdf. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 270. Louw GM (2014) The South African military in transition: part 2 – from strategic culture to strategic reality. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 42(2):27–53 271. Lowicki-Zucca M, Karmin S, Dehne K-L (2009) HIV among peacekeepers and its likely impact on prevalence on host countries’ HIV epidemics. Int Peacekeeping 16(3):352–363 272. Luckham R (1994) The military, militarization and democratization in Africa: a survey of literature and issues. Afr Stud Rev 37(2):13–75 273. Mabera F (2018) South Africa’s profile as peacekeeper: in keeping with the times. Afr Secur 11(3):223–251 274. Mabuza PL (2010) The impact of HIV serodiscordancy on married couples attending the infectious disease clinic at 1 military hospital. MA thesis, Department of Social Work and Criminology, University of Pretoria, November 2010 275. Maduna PH, Dolan M, Kondolo L, Mabuza H, Dlamini JN, Polis M, Mnisi T, Orsega S, Maja P, Ledwaba L, Molefe T, Sangweni P, Malan L, Matchaba G, Khabo P, Grandits G, Neaton JD (2015) Morbidity and mortality according to latest CD+4 cell count among HIV positive individuals in South Africa who enrolled in project Phidisa. PLoS One 10(4) 276. Magadla S (2015) Women combatants and the liberation movements in South Africa: guerrilla girls, combative mothers and the in-betweeners. Afr Secur Rev 24(4):390–402 277. Makinana A (2013) Guptagate: opposition parties point finger at Zuma. Mail & Guardian, 22 May 2013. https://mg.co.za/article/2013-05-22-guptagate-opposition-parties-point-finger-at- zuma. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 278. Malan M (1998) Keeping the peace in the neighbourhood and abroad: lessons for South Africa from the Russian experience? Afr Secur Rev 15(4):90–95 279. Mandela NR (1995) Letter from President Nelson R. Mandela to Mr C. van Niekerk, 15 May 1995, South African National Defence Union 280. Mandrup T (2018) An uncertain future: South Africa’s National Defence Force caught between foreign-policy ambitions and domestic development. J East Afr Stud 12(1):136–153 281. Mangum SL, Ball DE (1987) Military skill training: some evidence of transferability. Armed Forces Soc 13(3):425–441 282. Manigart P (2003) Restructuring the armed forces. In: Caforio G (ed) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher, New York, pp 323–343 283. Manigart P (2018) Restructured armed forces. In: Caforio G, Nuciari M (eds) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Springer, Cham, pp 406–407 174 Bibliography

284. Maninger S (2008) Women in combat: reconsidering the case against the deployment of women in combat-support and combat units. In: Carreiras H, Kümmel G (eds) Women in the military and in armed conflict. Springer, Wiesbaden, pp 9–27 285. Mankayi N, Naidoo AV (2011) Masculinity and sexual practices in the military: a South African study. Afr J AIDS Res 10(1):43–50 286. Mansaray AV (2009) AMIS in Dafur: Africa’s litmus test in peacekeeping and political mediation. Afr Secur Rev 18(1):35–48 287. Marais K (2018) Statistics obtained from Minister of Defence and Veterans Affairs, National Assembly, 2018 288. Maringira G (2015) Militarised minds: the lives of ex-combatants in South Africa. Sociology 49(1):72–87 289. Martin G (2016) Female SANDF commander leads combat engagement in Sudan. DefenceWeb, 16 January 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa- defence/female-sandf-commander-leads-combat-engagement-in-sudan/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 290. Mashike L (1999) Beyond the armed struggle: a sociological profile of Ex-MK soldiers. Group for Environmental Monitoring, Johannesburg 291. Mashike L (2004) You are a time bomb: ex-combatants in post-conflict South Africa. Soc Transit 35(1):87–104 292. Mashike L (2007) “Blacks can win everything, but the army”: the transformation of the South African military between 1994 and 2005. J South Afr Stud 33(3):601–618 293. Mashike L, Mokalobe M (2003) Reintegration into civilian life: the case of former MK and APLA combatants. CCR Occas Pap 12(1):6–36 294. Matanzima, Lieutenant-General Themba (ret.) (2016) South African military ombud financial year statistics. South African Military Ombud, 10 November 2016. http://pmg-assets. s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/160909Media_Briefing-.pdf. Accessed 2 Sept 2019 295. Mawu T (2019) Army deployment on cape flats known as operation prosper. SABC News, 13 July 2019. http://www.sabcnews.com/sabcnews/army-deployment-in-cape-flats-known-as- operation-prosper/. Accessed 26 July 2019 296. Mazurana D, Piza-Lopez E (2002) Gender mainstreaming in peace support operations: moving beyond rhetoric to practice. International Alert, London 297. Mbinwane B (2015) Soldiers for hire: SA’s greatest security risk. Daily Maverick, 25 May 2015. https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/opinionista/2015-05-25-soldiers-for-hire-sas-great- security-risk/#.WXCBZ02wfIV. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 298. McKinley DT (2018) Umkhonto we Sizwe: a critical analysis of the armed struggle of the African National Congress. S Afr Hist J 70(1):27–41 299. Meiring G (1995) Report on communication implications of attitude surveys done in 1995. Department of Defence, Communications Services, Pretoria 300. Menon ST, Kotze E (2007) Human resource integration in the South African military: a view from the trenches. Hum Resour Manag 46(1):71–94 301. Merten M (2015) Guptagate: Zuma not off the hook yet. IOL, 21 January 2015. http://www. iol.co.za/news/politics/guptagate-zuma-not-off-the-hook-yet-1807321. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 302. Metsola L (2010) The struggle continues? The spectra of liberation memory and “war veterans” in Namibia. Dev Chang 41(4):589–613 303. Meyer EM (1986) Die Suid-Afrikaanse Vrou in Landsverdediging – Agtergrond en Perspektief. Scientia Militaria 16(2):33–46 304. Miller N, Yeager R (1996) The military: an occupation that puts soldiers at risk. Alliance Newsletter 1, no. 2 305. Mills G (2011) An option of difficulties? A 21st-century South African defence review. Discussion paper, July 2011, The Brenthurst Foundation. http://www.thebrenthurstfoundation.org/workspace/files/2011-07-south-african-defence-brenthurst-paper-.pdf. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 Bibliography 175

306. Mills G (2019) The SANDF’s real challenge: it’s become a welfare not a warfare agency. Daily Maverick, 30 January 2019. https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/ article/2019-01-30-the-sandfs-real-challenge-its-become-a-welfare-not-a-warfare-agency/. 307. Mills G, Williams D (2006) 7 Battles that Shaped South Africa. Tafelberg, Cape Town 308. Mills G, Wood G (1993) Ethnicity, integration and the South African armed forces. S Afr Defence Rev 12:22–36 309. Mittelstadt J (2011) The army is a service, not a job: unionization, employment, and the meaning of military service in the late-twentieth century United States. Int Labour Working Class Hist 80(1):29–52 310. Mkize V (2014) SANDF accused of HIV discrimination. The Star, 28 July 2014 311. Molefe R (2007) Military union fights a winning battle. City Press, 3 June 2007 312. Morgan MJ (2001) Army recruiting and the civil–military gap. Parameters: U S Army War Coll Q 31(2):101–117 313. Moskos C (1977) From institution to occupation: trends in military organisation. Armed Forces Soc 4(1):41–50 314. Mottaz CJ (1981) The determinants of work alienation. Sociol Q 22(4):515–529 315. Motumi N (1997) The physical, psychological and welfare needs of former non-statutory force veterans. Afr Secur Rev 6(5):1–9 316. Motumi T, Hudson A (1996) Rightsizing: the challenges of demobilisation and social reintegration in South Africa. In: Cilliers J (ed) Demobilisation and reintegration of former combatants in Africa. Institute for Defence Policy, Halfway House, pp 112–129 317. Moyroud C, Katunga J (2002) Coltan exploitation in the eastern democratic Republic of Congo. In: Lind J, Sturman K (eds) Scarcity and surfeit: the ecology of Africa’s conflicts. Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria, pp 159–181 318. Mulloy G (2007) Adapting militaries to peacekeeping and policing roles: the effects of peacekeeping on militaries and the stresses and strains of operations. Paper presented at the second annual conference on human security, terrorism and organized crime, Western Balkan Region, Sarajevo, 4–6 October 2007 319 Mungadze S (2013) Retired officer backs SANDF HIV discrimination. Business Day, 12 July 2013. https://www.businesslive.co.za/bd/national/health/2013-07-12-retired-officer-backs- sandf-hiv-discrimination/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 320. Nathan L (1994) The changing of the guard: armed forces and defence policy in a democratic South Africa. HSRC Publishers, Pretoria 321. Neethling T (1999) Exercise blue crane: forward with peacekeeping in South Africa. Issue Bulletin, no. 9 322. Neethling T (2003) The South African military and peacekeeping; reflections on conditions, capacity-building and prospects. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 31(1):95–110 323. News24 (2010) Army becoming a “state within a state”. News24, 25 October 2010. https://www.news24.com/SouthAfrica/Politics/Sisulu-turning-army-into-a-state-within-a- state-20101025. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 324. News24 (2014) SANDF’s HIV policy attacked. News24, 29 July 2014. https://www.news24. com/SouthAfrica/News/SANDFs-HIV-policy-attacked-20140729. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 325. Ngculu J (2003) The role of the parliamentary defence committees in ensuring effective oversight: the South African experience. In: Williams R, Cawthra G, Abrahams D (eds) Ourselves to know: civil military relations and defence transformation in Southern Africa. Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria, pp 177–188 326. Ntshota N (2002) Challenges facing married couples in the deploying units of South African National Defence Force. MA thesis, Department of Sociology, University of Cape Town 327. Nxumalo B (2018) An evaluation of the implications of the revised HIV deployment policy on the healthcare service of the South African National Defence Force. MA thesis, Faculty of Economic and Management Sciences, Stellenbosch University 176 Bibliography

328. Oketch JS, Polzer T (2002) Conflict and coffee in burundi. In: Lind J, Sturman K (eds) Scarcity and surfeit: the ecology of Africa’s conflicts, Pretoria, Institute for Security Studies, pp 85–158 329. Olivier L (2015) Changing international realities and the configuration of the South African National Defence Forces in the 21st Century. PhD dissertation, Department of Political Studies and Governance, University of the Free State, January 2015 330. Olivier L (2019) South African Soldiers won’t end gang violence: a coordinated plan might. The Conversation, 23 July 2019. https://theconversation.com/south-africas-soldiers-wont- end-gang-violence-a-co-ordinated-plan-might-120775. Accessed 26 July 2019 331. O’Malley P (1960–1990) The report of the truth and reconciliation commission, vol 2, Chapter Five, The homelands from 1960–1990. O’Malley Archives. https://omalley.nelsonmandela.org/omalley/index.php/site/q/.../08lv02377.htm. Accessed 20 Feb 2019 332. OSCE Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights (ODIHR) (2008) Handbook on human rights and fundamental freedoms of armed forces personnel. ODIHR, Warsaw 333. Otto H (2007) SAAF candidate officer’s case postponed. IOL, 13 November 2007. https:// www.iol.co.za/news/south-africa/saaf-candidate-officers-case-postponed-378574. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 334. Perlmutter A, Bennett VP (1980) The political influence of the military: a comparative reader. Yale University Press, New Haven/London 335. Perry A (2008) What kind of peace is there to keep in Congo? Time, 24 November 2008 336. Perselay G (1977) The realities of military unions. In: Taylor WJ, Arango RJ, Lockwood RS (eds) Military unions: U.S. trends and issues. Sage Publications, Beverly Hills/London, pp 172–180 337. Pillay A (2006) Gender peace and peacekeeping: lessons from Southern Africa. Institute for Security Studies Paper no. 128, 2006. 338. Pitse CA (2009) Spousal support in the South African National Defence Force during external military deployment: a model for social support services. DPhil dissertation, Department of Social Work and Criminology, University of Pretoria, November 2009 339. Portfolio Committee on Defence and Military Veterans (2016) ATC161021: budgetary review and recommendations report of the portfolio committee on defence and military veterans on the 2015/16 annual report plan of the Department of Defence (DoD). 21 October 2016. https://pmg.org.za/tabled-committee-report/2842/. Accessed 14 Aug 2019 340. Pretorius J (2008) Redefining defence in the post-apartheid security imaginary: the politics of meaning-fixing. J Contemp Hist 33(2):35–56 341. Price-Smith AT (2002) Pretoria’s shadow: the HIV/AIDS Pandemic and National Security in South Africa. Chemical and Biological Arms Control Institute, Washington, DC 342. Puechguirbal N (2010) Discourses on gender, patriarchy and resolution 1325: a textual analysis of UN documents. Int Peacekeeping 17(2):172–187 343. Radebe H (2017) SA-US team up to train SA peacekeepers in ambush tactics. News24, 25 July 2017. https://city-press.news24.com/News/sa-us-team-up-to-train-sa-peacekeepers-in- ambush-tactics-20170725. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 344. Rakoma A (2012) Combined joint African exercise (CJAX) 2012. Department of Defence, 14 September 2012. http://www.dod.mil.za/news/2012/09/cjax.htm. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 345. Rapp G (1995) Defining new roles. Harv Int Rev 97(17):60–64 346. Republic of South Africa (1971) Defence and armaments production: period 1960 to 1970. Department of Defence, Pretoria 347. Republic of South Africa (1973) White paper on defence. Department of Defence, Pretoria 348. Republic of South Africa (1996) The constitution of the Republic of South Africa, Act 108 of 1996 349. Republic of South Africa (1998) South African defence review. Department of Defence, Pretoria 350. Republic of South Africa (2002) Department of Defence and Military Veterans, Defence Act, 2002, individual grievance regulations. Government Gazette, No. 33334, 30 June 2010 Bibliography 177

351. Republic of South Africa (2011) Military veterans act (18 of 2011). Government Gazette, 5 December 2011. https://www.gov.za/sites/default/files/gcis_document/201409/a182011.pdf. Accessed 30 Aug 2019 352. Republic of South Africa (2016) In: Sisulu LN (ed) Final report of the INDFSC to the Honourable Minister of Defence. Department of Defence, Pretoria 353. Reuters (2016) Union buildings “special leave” protestors recalled. DefenceWeb, 25 May 2016. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/union-buildings- special-leave-protestors-recalled/. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 354. Reuters (2018) Defence allocations from national treasury for 2018/19 down on previous year. DefenceWeb, 22 February 2018. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence- sa-defence/defence-allocation-from-national-treasury-for-201819-down-on-previous-year/. Accessed 14 Aug 2019 355. Riley-Harris D (2013) South African peacekeeping, 1994–2012. Mil Hist J 16(1). http:// samilitaryhistory.org/vol161dr.html. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 356. Rossouw B (1998) A South African perspective on the place of peace support operations within broader peace missions. Afr Secur Rev 7(1):36–43 357. Rupiya M (2000) What we know about HIV and Aids in the armed forces in Southern Africa. Afr Secur Rev 15(4):128–138 358. Sagala JK (2008) HIV/AIDS prevention strategies in the armed forces in Sub-Saharan Africa: a critical review. Armed Forces Soc 34(2):292–313 359. Sass B (1996) The Union and South African Defence Force: 1912 to 1994. In: Cilliers J, Reichardt M (eds) About turn: the transformation of the South African military and intelligence. Institute for Defence Policy, Halfway House, pp 118–139 360. Schiff RL (1995) Civil–military relations reconsidered: a theory of concordance. Armed Forces Soc 22(1):7–24 361. Schiff RL (2008) The military and domestic politics: a concordance theory of civil–military relations. Routledge, New York 362. Schoeman M (2010) Gender and peacekeeping in Southern Africa. In: Gender, peace and security in Southern Africa: Workshop Report. Compiled by Cheryl Hendricks and Siphokazi Magadla, 22–23 November 2010. Institute for Security Studies, Pretoria 363. Scholtz L (2015) Email correspondence to the author, 29 April 2015 364. Scholtz L (2017) Ratels on the Lomba: the story of Charlie Squadron. Jonathan Ball Publishers, Johannesburg 365. Scholtz L (2010) The South African strategic and operational objectives in Angola, 1987–88. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 38(1):68–98 366. Schreier F, Caparini M (2005) Privatising security: law, practice and governance of private military and security companies. DCAF Occasional Paper, no. 6 367. Schutte C, Sass B (1995) Public opinion regarding demobilisation of military members, and unionisation in the South African Security Forces. Afr Secur Rev 4(5):48–55 368. Seegers A (1996) The military in the making of modern South Africa. Tauris Academic Studies, London/New York 369. Selfe J (1989) South Africa’s national management system. In: Cock J, Nathan L (eds) War and society: the militarisation of South Africa. Cape Town, David Philip, pp 149–158 370. Selfe J (1994) The state security apparatus: implications for covert operations. In: Minnaar A d V, Liebenberg I, Schutte CD (eds) The hidden hand: covert operations in South Africa. HSRC Press, Pretoria, pp 103–112 371. Senekal B (2010) The controversy surrounding Private Military Companies (PMCs): looking back on executive outcomes. Contemporary Hist 35(1):170–183 372. Setai Commission (2001) Progress Report on integration since June 2001. Joint Standing Committee on Defence: Department of Defence. https://pmg.org.za/committee-meeting/920/. Accessed 20 Aug 2019 178 Bibliography

373. Shaw M (1994) Biting the bullet: negotiating democracy’s defence. In: Friedman S, Atkinson D (eds) South African review 7. The Small Miracle: South Africa’s negotiated settlement. Ravan Press, Johannesburg, pp 228–256 374. Shell R (2000) Halfway to the holocaust: the economic, demographic and social implications of the AIDS pandemic to the year 2010 in the Southern African region. In: HIV/AIDS: a threat to the African Renaissance. Konrad-Adenauer-Stiftung Occasional Paper, June 2000 375. Shelly S (2019) Bringing in the army turns people on the cape flats into targets. Daily Maverick, 23 July 2019. https://www.dailymaverick.co.za/article/2019-07-23-bringing-in- the-army-turns-people-on-the-cape-flats-into-targets/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 376. Shelton G, Monyue A, Simmons M, Williams R (2001) Demobilization and its aftermath I: a profile of South Africa’s demobilized military personnel. ISS Occasional Paper 59 377. Shore LM, Randel AE, Chung BG, Dean MA, Holcombe Ehrhart K, Singh G (2011) Inclusion and diversity in work groups: a review and model for future research. J Manag 37(4):1262–1289 378. Simpson T (2016) Umkhonto we Sizwe: the ANC’s armed struggle. Penguin, Johannesburg 379. Singer PW (2002) AIDS and international security. Survival 44(1):145–158 380. Singer PW (2007) Corporate warriors: the rise of the privatized military industry. Cornell University Press, Ithaca 381. Sisulu L (2012) Department of Defence and Military Veterans: minister’s budget vote speech. Briefing, 17 May 2012. https://pmg.org.za/briefing/18977/. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 382. Sitshongaye, Major-General Mulungisa (2016) Briefing on the military skills development system (MSDS) intakes, CD HR Strategic Direction Policy and Plans. 9 September 2016. http://pmg-assets.s3-website-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/160909briefing.pdf. Accessed 14 August 2019 383. Smith D (2015) South Africa’s ageing white mercenaries who helped turn tide on Boko Haram. The Guardian, 14 April 2015. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/apr/14/ south-africas-ageing-white-mercenaries-who-helped-turn-tide-on-boko-haram. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 384. Smith M (2015) The clash of cultures: exploring the perceptions and experiences of South African youth towards the military as an employer of choice. MA thesis, Department of Sociology, Stellenbosch University 385. Soeters J, Winslow DJ, Weibull A (2003) Military culture. In: Caforio G (ed) Handbook of the sociology of the military. Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publisher, New York, pp 237–254 386. The South African Human Rights Commission (SAHRC) (2019) “This will never be accepted in SA” – MJC women’s forum on SANDF Case. 1 July 2019. https://www.sahrc.org.za/ index.php/sahrc-media/news/item/1995-this-will-never-be-accepted-in-sa-mjc-women-s- forum-on-sandf-case. Accessed 26 July 2019 387. South African News Agency (2015) SANDF considers operation Fiela extension. SA News, 8 July 2015. https://www.sanews.gov.za/south-africa/sandf-considers-operation-fiela-extension. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 388. South African National Defence Force (SANDF) (1996) Service guide for newcomers. South African National Defence Force 389. South African National Defence Force (SANDF) Cultural diversity: South African National Defence Force Training Order (SANDFTO). In: Introduction of civic education in the department of defence. Department of Defence, Pretoria, p 1997 390. South African National Defence Union (SANDU) (2012) Live, forward, March. SANDU Newsletter 391. Southall R (2017) ANC’s military veterans could be a threat to SA’s democracy. IOL, 13 April 2017. https://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/ancs-military-veterans-could-be-a-threat-to- sas-democracy-8654788. Accessed 21 Aug 2019 392. Steinberg J (2005) Assessing the future of rural policing: the impact of closing the commandos. SA Crime Q 13:1–5. https://www.sajs.co.za/index.php/sacq/article/view/1011/766. Accessed 14 Aug 2019 Bibliography 179

393. Stott N (2002) From the SADF to the SANDF: safeguarding South Africa for a better life for all? Violence and transition series. Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, Johannesburg 394. Stupart J (2017) Sending the army to the townships. African Defence Review, 15 October 2017. https://www.africandefence.net/army-to-the-townships/. Accessed 13 Aug 2019 395. Sun IY, Sung H-E, Chu DC (2007) Collateral gains from the military? A cross-national analysis of the armed forces–crime relationship. Int J Offender Ther Comp Criminol 91(5):599–614 396. Svensson E (2008) Lessons learned from the African Union’s first peace operation: the African mission in Burundi. Stockholm, Swedish Defence Research Agency (FOI) 397. Swart S (1998) A Boer and his gun and his wife are three things always together: republican masculinity and the 1914 rebellion. J South Afr Stud 24(4):737–751 398. Swilling M, Phillips M (1989) State power in the 1980s: from “total strategy” to “counter- revolutionary warfare”. In: Cock J, Nathan L (eds) War and society: the militarisation of South Africa. Cape Town, David Philip, pp 134–148 399. Taylor WJ, Arango RJ (1977) Military effectiveness: the basic issues of military unionization. In: Taylor WJ, Arango RJ, Lockwood RS (eds) Military unions: U.S. trends and issues. Sage, Beverly Hills/London, pp 245–264 400. Terrie J (2009) The use of force in UN peacekeeping: the experience of MONUC. Afr Secur Rev 18(10):21–34 401. Tomaszewski EP (2012) Understanding HIV/AIDS stigma and discrimination. NASW HIV/ AIDS Spectrum Project, March 2012. https://www.socialworkers.org/LinkClick.aspx?filetic ket=Ehw3d_90z30%3D&portalid=0. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 402. Treu AJ (2013) Why I’m resigning from SANDU. PoliticsWeb, 4 April 2013. http://politicsweb.co.za/opinion/why-im-resigning-from-sandu. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 403. Truesdell A (2009) Achieving political objectives: South African defense priorities from the apartheid to the post-apartheid era. Afr Stud Rev 52(3):107–125 404. Twala C, Oelofse M (2013) Rural safety and the disbandment of the commando units in South Africa: a challenge to rural communities and the African National Congress (ANC)? Stud Tribes Tribals 11(1):25–33 405. UNAIDS (1999) United Nations Report on the Global HIV/Aids Epidemic. United Nations 406. UNAIDS (2001) Twenty years of HIV/AIDS. United Nations 407. UNAIDS (2003) On the front line: a review of policies and programmes to address HIV/ AIDS among peacekeepers and uniformed services. Engaging Informed Services in the Fight Against HIV/AIDS, UNAIDS Series. http://www.unaids.org/sites/default/files/media_asset/ jc950-frontline_en_0.pdf. Accessed 22 Aug 2019 408. United Nations (UN) (2010) MONUC: United Nations Organization stabilization mission in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. https://peacekeeping.un.org/mission/past/monuc/. Accessed 25 July 2019 409. United Nations (UN) (2018) Summary of contributions to UN peacekeeping. 28 February 2018. https://peacekeeping.un.org/sites/default/files/3_country_and_mission_0.pdf. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 410. United Nations Peacekeeping (2019) Total Fatalities since 1948. 31 July 2019. https://peacekeeping.un.org/en/fatalities. Accessed 25 July 2019 411. Van Breda AD (2010) Status of women in the DOD: a review of women in the South African Department of defence. Department of Defence, Pretoria 412. Van Breda AD (2016) Women claiming space in the military: the experiences of female South African soldiers. J Hum Ecol 53(1):20–28 413. Van der Ryst E, Joubert G, Steyn F, Heunis C, le Roux C, Williamson C (2001) HIV/AIDS related practices among South African Military Recruits. S Afr Mil J (SAMJ) 91(7):587–591 414. Van der Waag I (2000) The Union Defence Force between the Two World Wars, 1919–1940. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 30(2):183–219 415. Van der Waag I (2015) A military history of modern South Africa, Johannesburg, Jonathan Ball Publishers 180 Bibliography

416. Van Dyk G, Koopman R (2012) Peacekeeping operation and adjustment of soldiers in Sudan. Afr J Confl Resolut 12(3) (29 October 2012). https://www.accord.org.za/ajcr- issues/%EF%BF%BCpeacekeeping-operations-and-adjustment-of-soldiers-in-sudan/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 417. Van Niekerk C (2002) Foreword: enough is enough. Paper presented at the SANDU National Conference Programme, Pretoria, South Africa 418. Van Ryneveld P (2006) SANDF has become grim joke. Pretoria News, 8 November 2006 419. Velthuizen A (2009) The significance of the battle for Cuito Cuanavale: long-term foresight of the current strategic landscape. Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 37(2):107–123 420. Venter Z (2008) SANDF’s discriminatory aids policy void. Pretoria News, 17 May 2008 421. Verweijen J (2013) Military business and the business of the military in the Kivus. Rev Afr Polit Econ 40(135):67–82 422. Vines A (2010) South Africa’s politics of peace and security in Africa. S Afr J Int Aff 17(1):53–63 423. Vitzthum K, Mache S, Joachim R, Quarcoo D, Groneberg D (2009) Psychotrauma and effective treatment of post-traumatic stress disorder in soldiers and peacekeepers. J Occup Med Toxicol 4(21):1–7 424. Von Bergen CW, Soper B, Foster T (June 2002) Unintended negative effects of diversity management. Public Pers Manag 31(2):239–251 425. Vrëy F (2004) Paradigm shifts, South African defence policy and the South African National Defence Force: from here to where? Scientia Militaria: S Afr J Mil Stud 32(2):96–125 426. Weitz R (2015) Vulnerable warriors, military women, military culture, and fear of rape. Gend Issues 32(3):164–168 427. Welsh D (2010) The rise and fall of apartheid. Jonathan Ball Publishers, Johannesburg 428. Wessels A (2000) The first two years of war: the development of the Union Defence Forces (UDF) September 1939 to September 1951. Mil Hist J 11(5). http://samilitaryhistory.org/ vol115aw.html. Accessed 7 Aug 2019 429. Wessels A (2010) The South African National Defence Force, 1994–2009. J Contemp Hist 35(2):132–152 430. Wilén N, Heinecken L (2017) Peacekeeping deployment abroad and the self-perceptions of the effect on career advancement, status and reintegration. Int Peacekeeping 24(2):236–253 431. Wilén N, Heinecken L (2018) Regendering the South African Army: inclusion, reversal and displacement. Gend Work Organ 25(6):670–686 432. Williams R (1998) Against meta narratives? The strengths and weaknesses of modernism and contemporary defence thinking. Strateg Rev S Afr 7(2):1–40 433. Williams R (1998) Reallocating defence expenditures for development: the South African experience. Afr Secur Rev 7(2):33–47 434. Williams R (2000) The other two armies: a brief historical overview of Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK), 1961–1994. Mil Hist J 11(5):1–15 435. Williams R (2002) Integration or absorption? Afr Secur Rev 11(2):17–25 436. Wingrin D (2017) Defence Force set to recoup DRC expenses. DefenceWeb, 30 May 2017. https://www.defenceweb.co.za/sa-defence/sa-defence-sa-defence/defence-force-set-to- recoup-drc-expenses/. Accessed 15 Aug 2019 437. Woodhill BM, Samuels CA (2004) Desirable and undesirable androgyny: a prescription for the twenty-first century. J Gend Stud 13(1):15–28 438. Woodward R, Winter P (2006) Gender and the limits to diversity in the contemporary British Army. Gend Work Organ 31(10):45–67 439. Worden N (1994) The making of modern South Africa: conquest, segregation and apartheid. Blackwell, Oxford 440. Yeager R (1996) Key policy issues face the civil–military alliance. Alliance Newsletter 1, no. 2 Bibliography 181

441. Yeager R, Hendrix C, Kingma S (2002) International military human immunodeficiency virus/acquired immunodeficiency syndrome policies and programs: strengths and limitations in current practice. Mil Med 165(2):87–92 442. Youde J (2005) Enter the fourth Horseman: health security and international relations theory. Whitehead J Diplomacy Int Relat 6(1):193–208 443. Crocker CA (1999) Herding cats: Multiparty mediation in a complex world. Washington DC:United States Institute of Peace, 1999 444. Lindy Heinecken, (2012) HIV/AIDS, the military and the impact on national and international security. Society in Transition 32(1):120–127 445. Matloa AO (2015) The formation of the SANDF: integration experiences of former Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei Defence Force Members. MA thesis, Unisa