Dismantling Apartheid: A South African Town in Transition 9781501721830

Citation preview

Dismantling Apartheid

Anthropology of Contemporary Issues A SERIES EDITED BY

ROGER SANJEK

A full list of titles in the series appears at the end of this book.

Dismantling Apartheid A SOUTH AFRICAN TOWN IN TRANSITION

Walton R. Johnson

Cornell University Press Ithaca and London

Copyright© 1994 by Cornell University All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this book, or parts thereof, must not be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, address Cornell University Press, Sage House, 512 East State Street, Ithaca, New York 14850. First published 1994 by Cornell University Press.

@) The paper in this book meets the minimum requirements of the American National Standard for Information Sciences-Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Johnson, Walton R. Dismantling apartheid : a South African town in transition I Walton R. Johnson. p. em. - (Anthropology of contemporary issues) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8014-2701-0 (alk. paper). -ISBN 0-8014-9992-5 (alk. paper) 1. Umtata (South Africa)- History. 2. Apartheid-South Africa-Umtata. I. Title. II. Series. DT2405. U48J64 1994 968. 7'91-dc20 94-6100

Contents

1.

2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

7.

Preface Introduction Roots of Dominance Portraits of Dominance Social Dominance Political Dominance Economic Dominance Ideological Dominance A Culture of Dominance Appendix Bibliography Index

vii

1 23 48 77 103 137 155 174 227 231 241

Preface

Until recently the white minority in South Africa not only had the upper hand politically, economically, and militarily, it also had a psychological advantage. Now, however, the psychological balance has shifted. Fundamental change is undoubtedly underway. A greater sense of urgency-even a sense of militancy-animates much of the African population. People of all races talk openly, most of them approvingly, about the African National Congress taking control of the government. Though they oppose the ANC and may advocate a racial partitioning of the country, even the most conservative concede that apartheid is finished. Consensus has not yet been reached, however, on the character of the political and economic structures that must emerge in the new South Africa. Unfortunately for those looking to the future, no one has had much actual experience in dismantling apartheid. We have almost no empirical information that tells us how people may respond to certain kinds of political, social, or economic changes in South Africa. Moreover, there are few proven implementation strategies for the dismantling process. Mindful of this situation, I set out to gather some empirical data on change in apartheid. The idea for this book was in part prompted by John Stone's analysis of white immigrants to South Africa. Having shown that British immigrants quickly adopt the norms and values of apartheid, Stone in Uitlander or Colonialist argues that these immigrants were not previously bigoted, and that their behavior tells us about the normal impact of social structure on the individual's values. Although his analysis could lead to pessimism regarding white South Africa's ability to change, Stone offers one "ray of hope." Because it is the apartheid [vii]

Preface

social structure that encourages racist values, he says, the "right" social structure could, theoretically, stimulate a more liberal racial ideology. In pursuing the research, I found that the absence of fundamental change throughout most of South Africa meant that, ironically, communities subjected to "separate development" provided the best opportunity for observing the country's changing social structure. Like their counterparts elsewhere, Africans and whites in these homeland communities have historically lived together within the strictures of apartheid. In the 1970s and 1980s, however, separate development brought the abolition of most "race laws" in these places, and the inhabitants were compelled to restructure their relationships. By gathering empirical data on one restructuring experience, I attempted to glean insight into the processes of change, and the absence of change, throughout South Africa. My analysis shows how Africans and whites in one community molded new political, social, and economic relationships and how, in some instances, the traditional apartheid relationships were only slightly modified. The research process necessarily led to a special interest in dominant group behavior because members of the most powerful group have "preeminent authority to function both as guardians and sustainers of the controlling value system, and as prime allocators of rewards in the society" (Schermerhorn, 1970: 12). The main fieldwork was done between September 1977 and December 1978. In the succeeding years, I have made three subsequent field visits of about four weeks each. The primary data sources were key informant interviews, extensive participant observation, a wide review of public documents, and a stratified random survey of the white community. U mtata, the administrative capital of the Transkei, founded in 1869, is the town under consideration here. For most of its existence, it was like other South African towns: all apartheid laws were in full force; public and private facilities were completely segregated; only whites could vote or serve in the town government; whites owned all the major economic assets. Umtata's dominant group bitterly resisted all change in apartheid. They feared both their own loss of privilege and African reprisals. When change was imposed, however, and these horrors did not materialize, they actually welcomed the less tense, "nonracial" atmosphere. Their relative contentment, though, stemmed largely from the fact that the initial stages of transition resulted in a neoapartheid in which dominant group privilege was not very seriously threatened. Nevertheless, important changes took place. New intergroup rela[viii]

Preface

tionships were facilitated as social class diluted the strict racial divisions. The "embourgoisement" of middle-class Africans promoted social restratification, creating a place for an African elite in the new political and economic hierarchies. Desegregation, including residential desegregation, and affirmative action in employment also provided new social opportunities. Although most Africans remained subordinate to the dominant power structure, the presence of even a few Africans sharing political, economic, and social amenities with whites constituted a significant departure from the old apartheid relationships. In recent years, comparable changes have occurred throughout all of South Africa. President F. W. de Klerk's 1990 unbanning of the African political organizations, his promise to negotiate a new constitution, and the release of Nelson Mandela publicly acknowledged that the transition in South Africa was well under way (Johnson, 1992). Since then, most apartheid legislation has been repealed, and a new constitution has been drafted. The country as a whole is now undergoing experiences of transition very similar to those that occurred in Umtata. An understanding of Umtata should illuminate many of the current events elsewhere in the country at both the national and the local levels. Meanwhile, the social structure in U mtata has continued to evolve in a way that may be a portent for all of South Africa. Since the late 1970s, social links between Africans and whites have not increased. There seem to be fewer organizations that provide a meeting place across racial lines. Residents report seldom seeing "mixed couples," and whites say such couples would still raise eyebrows. Apparently fleeing an increasingly "African" town, white Transkeians who remained in U mtata after 1976 are retiring to white communities elsewhere in South Africa. Although Umtata's whites still continue to enjoy high status, disproportionate power, and special privilege, they can no longer be described as the city's dominant group. That role has been assumed by a multiracial class-based elite of which whites are only a part. In light of the demise of apartheid ideology, members of the former dominant group who remain in Umtata have had to adopt new rationalizations of their role. White identity is being redefined, although the redefinitions are frequently alternative justifications for continued dominance. A common self-perception, for instance, portrays whites as the ultimate peacemakers, indispensable to the country's future in light of the Africans' tendencies toward tribal warfare. So far, dismantling apartheid has led to very little change for the [ix]

Preface

overwhelming majority of Umtata's Mricans. Most people who were locked into subordinate status as a result of apartheid are still disadvantaged. They continue to have unequal access to education, health care, housing, economic opportunities, social amenities, and political power. The resulting class-based tensions are evident in the rise of popularly organized civic associations that champion the causes of the poor and disadvantaged. Comparable civic associations are increasingly politically active elsewhere in South Africa. These grassroots organizations, despite their claims to the contrary, may not simply be instruments to fight apartheid. Rather, they may in fact be harbingers of struggles yet to come in the new South Mrica. Completing this project has required the support and cooperation of many people. My greatest indebtedness, of course, is to friends, colleagues, and informants in U mtata. Because some of the material here may be sensitive or may become sensitive, I have decided not to name those individuals. Indeed, with a view to safeguarding their interests, throughout the volume I have used fictitious names. I am here thanking them as a group, content in the knowledge that they know who they are and that most of them have already been informed of my gratitude. I gratefully acknowledge the generous support of the Social Science Research Council, which funded the initial research, as well as the Ford Foundation and the Center for Research on Economic Development at the University of Michigan for subsequent grants. I also thank colleagues at the Centre for Mrican Studies and the Anthropology Department, University of Cape Town. Being able to participate in their scholarly activities greatly enhanced my understanding of contemporary South Mrica. I have profited a great deal from discussing the issues raised here with various people, some of whom actually commented on earlier portions of the manuscript. In particular, I thank George C. Bond, Irving Louis Horowitz, Pierre Hugo, David Levering Lewis, Marshall Murphree, Ann Seidman, Masipula Sithole, Lionel Tiger, D. Michael Warren, and C. Sylvester Whitaker. Most important, I am indebted to my wife, Judith, and children, Kimberley, Krista, and Jamie, for tolerating dislocations in our family life as I worked on this book. WALTON

[x]

R.

JOHNSON

Dismantling Apartheid

[xi]

ATAL LE OTIIO

ORA CE FREE TATE

APE

I

PRO

E

• Butterworth

0~==='*25'===~50 miles

0

40

80 kilometers

T RA SKEI

Introduction

Comments frequently heard in informal conversation in South Africa reveal how deeply rooted feelings about dominance can be. "The fact is, democracy cannot work everywhere. It only works in certain places, under certain conditions." "Countries like the United States and Australia can afford to have one man, one vote because the whites do not have to relinquish power. They are in the majority. Here, one man, one vote means whites lose power. That's the big difference." 1 Many white South Mricans believe that although they share a society with others, it is only natural that they dominate. Usually, this is not mere bigotry; it has to do with culture, with world view. 2 Perhaps the roots of this world view are in Europe's explanation "of the most complex and perplexing phenomenon of modern times, to wit, the rise of a comparatively small, poor, and backward Western Europe to undisputed dominion over the world" (Puzzo, 1964: 583). Or perhaps, as Fernandez (1986: viii) posits, the mission ofhuman life is to use our argumentative powers "to preserve our place and our gratifYing [role] performances and hence the world in which these things are lodged and to persuade others to recognize that place, that performance and that world." 1 Informal conversations in South Africa. To appreciate the durability of such ideas, compare the following quotation from T. B. Glanville in Port Elisabeth in 1878: "In one very important aspect Africa is unlike America and Australia. It is inhabited by peoples who are to be counted by the million, and who are not accommodating enough to perish as the white man flourishes" (Abroad and at Home, quoted in A. Smith, 1983). 2 Wellman (1977) makes a similar point with regard to the United States, stating that racism is constituted not of prejudice but of attitudes supportive of the privileged white status quo and the rationalization of those attitudes.

[I]

Introduction

Whatever its roots, during the second half of the nineteenth century, European ethnocentrism "ran rampant as Christianity and the Aryan 'race' were seen as the ultimate development of human progress" (Lewellen, 1981: 339). As a result, "white superiority" emerged as the rationale for Europe's preeminence in world affairs. In India, the Hindu myths justifying the caste system are an obvious example of a social charter dictating a pattern of human relations. Many see the idea of white superiority as very similar, a kind of Malinowskian "mythical charter" serving, like other such charters, to create and substantiate the desired view of the world (Crapanzano, 1985: 27). In all such cases, these myths transform history and ideology into a "natural" order. In South Africa, variants of Europe's "charter" have been used to rationalize social, political, and economic dominance. Nonetheless, social change is proceeding. Even conservatives concede that grand apartheid is finished. Most of its symbols, including African passes and the signs designating European and non-European facilities, have disappeared. So too has strict racial segregation. Many still reject the notion of an open, nonracial society or argue for a white homeland, but most white South Africans acknowledge that fundamental change is inevitable. In fact, "New Era for South Africa," "celestial music," "a breakthrough" are among the terms of praise lavished on President F. W. De Klerk for unbanning the African National Congress, releasing Nelson Mandela, and committing the government to negotiating a new future for the country. These unusually daring steps, by a man formerly known for his unswerving adherence to the National Party policy line, have clearly charted a new course for South Africa, forever dashing Hendrik Verwoerd's dreams of a grand apartheid state. 3 The agonizing issue for many South Africans therefore, is not whether there will be change; change is no longer in doubt. The issue is, what will happen to white dominance? Despite many decades of persistent and frequently brutal efforts to subjugate them, South Africans of color have not submitted. Indeed, mass resistance to apartheid reached a new crescendo in the late 1980s. What does the impending change mean for Europe's "social charter" in South Africa? Now that 3 "White Election 1989: An Assessment," South Africa Foundation Review, September 1989.

[2]

Introduction

South Mrica's future will not be simply a function of white political will, what will happen to the relative power and privilege of whites? The Need for Change Powerful socioeconomic and demographic realities are supporting the pressures to dismantle apartheid. Blacks are the most rapidly growing segment of South Africa's population. (Throughout this book, I use the term "blacks" to refer collectively to all non-white residents of South Mrica: Mricans, "Coloreds," and Asians.) Of ten million economically active persons in 1986, 80 percent were black and over 60 percent were Mrican, and the relative proportions are increasing. 4 The shortage of whites for professional, technical, and managerial jobs means that the economy can avoid catastrophe only by employing large numbers of blacks in senior positions. Their strength in the economy therefore must inevitably increase exponentially. In South Mrica's market-oriented economy, people of color also represent massive consumer power. The white market for many goods is nearly saturated, and black buying power will soon overtake white. In the long term, economic expansion depends on cultivating the black consumer. Black economic muscle has already resulted in successful consumer boycotts in such cities as Port Elizabeth, East London, and, Boksburg. 5 Because their role in the economy continues to increase, blacks no longer need boycotts to force changes in the marketplace. 6 The changing role of blacks in the national economy is only one dimension of the demography in South Africa. The full scope of these forces is suggested by the following facts: • Africans will constitute 90 percent of the population increase in the next twenty years, reaching 47 million by 2010 and moving their percentage in the total population to 80 percent. 7 Race Relations Survey, 1986, pt. 2, pp. 717-18. In 1986, for example, white businesses in Port Elizabeth and East London experienced boycotts by an estimated 750,000 people, and some suffered a 20 percent drop in profits. One clothing chain collapsed, in part because of the boycott. 6 In fact, most of South Africa's hotels have already dropped their restrictive practices, out of respect for the annual R5 million "black market"; by so doing, some financially struggling hotels have moved "into the black" (Race Relations Survey, 1985, p. 107). 7 Business Day, 24 October 1988; Natal Mercury, 14 November 1990. 4

5

[3]

Introduction

• By 2020, South Africa's population will be 80 million, of which only 6.5 million will be white. 8 • By 2010, there will be 29.5 million Africans living in the urban areas. In Johannesburg alone there will be 8 million. 9 • It is estimated that between 1985 and the year 2000, black purchasing power will increase by 216 percent (Green and Lascaris, 1988: 108). In the year 2000, 75 percent of purchases in the consumer market will be made by blacks.IO • The number of black school children is expected to double, from just over five million in the early 1980s to approximately ten million by the year 2000. • By the year 2000, only 20 percent of the high school graduates in South Africa will be white. • There is a serious white brain drain. For 1987, "total emigration figures showed a net loss of3,221 engineers ... and a loss of 1,858 professionals ... the net loss of engineers in 1986 was a high 6, 717 with a loss of 2,165 professionals."ll Most of the institutions of domination imposed over the last ninety years are simply no longer tenable in modern South Mrica. Even if blacks allowed themselves to be oppressed politically and even if international pressure waned, the demographic reality would, by itself, change the character of dominance and subordinance. Thus, differing visions of the country's future are now locked in combat. The society is clearly in transition. But transition to what? What are the forces influencing the nature and direction of change? What will be the new relationships between the groups that have interacted as dominant and subordinate? What will not change?

Dominant Group Behavior Unfortunately, serious and well-intended debates about change in South Mrica are not usually informed by sufficient empirical informaSunday Times, (Johannesburg) 13 March 1988. 9Sunday Times, 13 March 1988. to Argus, (Capetown) 25 May 1991. 11 Cape Times, 29 March 1988. It is estimated that 31 percent of management staff turnover is caused by emigration (Sunday Times, 30 October 1988). In 1985, 420 engineers, 62 medical doctors and dentists, 116 educators, 126 accountants, and 429 administrative and managerial workers emigrated from South Africa (Race Relations Survey, 1986, pt. 2, p. 725). 8

[4]

Introduction

tion. There is not enough factual knowledge about the South Mrican responses to certain political, social, and economic changes. The reason, of course, is that until the 1970s no one had had much actual experience in moving away from apartheid. Given the need, I set out to collect empirical information. The premise was that specific communities in South Mrica were already in the throes of change. The objective was to begin to develop a conceptual framework for understanding the change process. The research employed an inductive approach, moving from ethnography to general theory. Because of this approach, the study of change very quickly became an analysis of continuity as well and, ultimately, a study of dominant and elite group behavior. 12 My experience in this regard was akin to Gunnar Myrdal's, who set out to study the "Negro problem" in the United States. In his classic work, An American Dilemma, in the section "A White Man's Problem," Myrdal writes, "We shall in this book have to give 'primary' attention to what goes on in the minds of white Americans .... All our attempts to reach scientific explanations of why the Negroes are what they are and why they live as they do have regularly led to determinants on the white side of the race line . . . . The Negro's entire life, and, consequently, also his opinions on the Negro problem, are, in the main, to be considered as secondary reactions to more primary pressures from the side of the dominant white majority" (1962: lxxv). Although he curiously goes on to present elaborate descriptions of Negroes to the neglect of whites, Myrdal nevertheless indicates his awareness that dominant and subordinate groups exist in an interdependent, interactive relationship and that the dominant group is usually the primary social actor. This fundamental conceptual point has been ignored in most subsequent writing on race relations. In America, for instance, popular authors such as Nathan Glazer and Daniel P. Moynihan (1963) and Shelby Steele (1990) focus much of their writing on socially subordinate groups. Most egregiously, however, they give the impression that the main explanatory variables for contemporary American race relations have to do with the nature of the disadvantaged groups. These works dwell on the well-established fact that subordinate groups actively participate in their own subjugation, as, for example, does Ashis Nandy's (1988: xiv) critique of the colonized in India. As analyses of intergroup relations, however, they are funda12 Consequently,

far more data were gathered about whites than blacks.

[5]

Introduction

mentally flawed because, unlike scholars such as Nandy, they fail to acknowledge the primacy of dominant group behavior in most of these relations. 13 In South Mrica, as in the United States, the dominant group is the primary social actor, though as a nonindigenous minority, it is weaker. With regard to its behavior, this ethnography suggests the presence of a deep-seated "culture of dominance," firmly grounded in a specific world view and protected by the dominant elite.

Culture

The first clear definition of"culture" appeared in Edward B. Tylor's book Religion in Primitive Culture: "Culture, or civilization, ... is that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, law, morals, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society" (quoted in Vermeersch, 1977: 10). Others have developed the idea of culture by emphasizing man's creative role in its construction. Clyde Kluckhohn and W. H. Kelly, for instance, derived the following definition: "By culture we mean all those historically created designs for living, explicit and implicit, rational and irrational, and non-rational, which exist at any given time as potential guides for the behavior of men" (quoted in Frelich, 1977: 89). Making another fundamental point, Ward Goodenough stresses that "culture is not a material phenomenon, it does not consist of things, people, behavior or emotions .... It is rather the forms of things that people have in mind, their models for perceiving, relating, and otherwise interpreting them" (quoted in Vermeersch, 1977: 60). Finally, Ernest Gellner adds: "Culture can be defined as a set of concepts in terms of which a given population acts and thinks. A concept is a shared way of grouping experiences and of acting and reacting .... A culture is a system . . . the notions which constitute it are interrelated and interdependent in various complex ways" (1988: 274). Culture, then, is our way of understanding the world in which we live. Culture determines how we respond to that world. As a result, in every society, culture tends to reinforce the social order. More to the point for this analysis, culture rationalizes social differentiation and 13 An attendant difficulty with these authors is that, in blaming the victims, their works actually become powerful instruments of white dominance.

[6]

Introduction

stratification and inculcates behavior that reinforces them. There is, for instance, a "culture of the oppressed" in which groups contribute to their own subjugation by accepting the legitimacy of their subordinance.14 In fact, the Black Consciousness Movement in South Mrica has long argued that culturally imposed self-negation, self-alienation, and feelings of inferiority are the major impediments to black liberation. Though they have attracted less attention analytically, "cultures of dominance" also exist. For instance, in the 1950s the dominant group in Kenya developed the view that all persons in that country, even the Mricans, were actually recent immigrants, occupying formerly empty land; therefore, "white Mricans" were as much "native" as "black Mricans," and just as entitled to the country's fruits. Given their relative skill levels, however, only white leadership could ensure prosperity (Lipscomb, 1955). D. Kennedy's Islands ofWhite describes the distinctive settler culture that emerged in Kenya and also in Southern Rhodesia: "Both colonial communities shared essentially the same perceptions of the Mrican climate and people, the same anxieties about physical and racial security, the same pressures for social conformity and ethnic aloofness. These concerns prevailed to such a degree as to constitute ... a common culture .... With the creation of a distinct culture, social identity was radically recast to accommodate the special requirement of white settler colonialism" (1987: 8). It is not difficult to appreciate that in South Africa the dominant group has developed a similar culture. This culture creates a world view-complete with myths, fears, ideas, values, and norms-which leads to dominant behavior. This set of values, norms, ideas, and myths is perceived as universal, natural and immutable. As one South African analyst put it, the culture instills "patterns of thinking which implicitly rely on racist assumptions" (Dubow, 1989: 26). Every culture, even dominant culture in South Africa, exhibits considerable flexibility over time. In the 1960s and 1970s, writes Peter du Preez, "the slogan of Apartheid has undergone a succession of transformations until it has become the ideology of Separate Development. This ideology still serves the group interests of Whites in general and the Afrikaners in particular, but it does so on a basis of apparently 14 Albert Memmi notes: "It is not enough for the colonized to be a slave, he must accept this role" (1991: 89, 87).

(7]

Introduction

universal principles." In moving from grand apartheid to separate development, the dominant culture modified its world view and introduced new metaphors into its ideology, claiming that "the units are no longer races, they are nations, and South Mrica is multi-national rather than multi-racial" (1972: 30, 38). In the 1980s P. W. Botha feigned flexibility by suggesting that white South Mrica had to "adapt or die." The subsequent cultural adaptation was the idea of a tricameral parliamentary system. With a view to satisfYing the principle that every citizen should be allowed to vote for a representative in government, separate parliaments were established for Colored and Asian South Africans. Coloreds elected "coloreds" to the "colored" parliament. Asians elected Asians to the Asian parliament. Whites continued to elect whites to the white parliament. Mricans elected Africans to the "homeland" governments. Now, the culture of dominance posited, South Mrica complies with the standard commonly described as "one person, one vote." The Botha government even embarked on a program of so-called reforms, aimed mainly at eliminating the dysfunctional aspects of apartheid. Some of the more repugnant elements of petty apartheid were eliminated. Some symbolic laws (such as the Mixed Marriages Act) were repealed, and some substantive legislation (such as the Pass Laws) was revised. The underlying culture of the dominant group was hardly changed at all, however. "Apartheid rested almost entirely upon the determination of the Afrikaner to survive and dominate" (du Preez 1972: 38). Botha was quite clear on this point, angrily accusing "the outside world of confusing reform with surrender" (Van Zyl Slabbert, 1987: 27).

Dominance

In designing this research, I posed the following questions. What happens in a South African community when the apartheid rules for social interaction are altered, but the dominant and subordinate groups have to continue living together? What factors determine the character of future social relations? How does the dominant group accommodate the changes? What can be learned from this experience about change in the hundreds of other communities in South Mrica? The general answers to these questions seem to be that even if apartheid structures are repealed, the underlying culture of the domi[8]

Introduction

nant group may not be significantly altered. The world view can remain essentially the same, and many of the old patterns of interpersonal relations will persist. When racial stratification is no longer legal, other devices will be sought to secure the dominant group's preeminence. In particular, the dominant elite will rush to protect its power to govern. It should be emphasized that ethnicity is not the unit of analysis here. Many scholars say that the concept is universally heuristic, some even arguing that it is "primordial." My analysis supports the view that ethnicity is usually epiphenomenal. The fact is that societies teach their members what criteria to use when assigning higher and lower status, and these criteria vary through time and place.l5 People's view on these matters are thus determined culturally. This is not at all to claim, of course, that ethnicity is of no practical social consequence; that would be absurd. But the mere presence of a cultural phenomenon does not necessarily make it the most appropriate unit of analysis. Dominant and subordinate groups, elites and non-elites, are the analytical units used here. The frame of reference is that ethnicity is culturally imposed and manipulated because of its utility as an instrument of dominance and social control. In understanding the nature of change in South Africa, we do not require a theory of ethnicity but rather a theory of social dominance. I am following R. A. Schermerhorn in differentiating ethnic group, majority group, and dominant group and in defining a dominant group as "that collectivity within a society which has preeminent authority to function both as guardians and sustainers of the controlling value system, and prime allocators of rewards in society" (1970: 12). Most studies of social dominance have been concerned with primates; in this literature, dominance is defined as priority access to environmental resources, including food and mating partners. The few studies of dominance in humans have dealt mainly with children or with relations between individuals. There is no substantial literature on dominance relations between groups. Nevertheless, many of the issues raised in the existing literature are relevant to the analysis here. The intimate link between power, status, and dominance, for instance, is central. Power is the ability to control interactions with others. Status is one's relative position in the social hierarchy. Dominance, the most difficult of the concepts to define, refers to a pattern of social relaI5T. H. Marshall makes this point with regard to the nature of social class; cf. Bottomore, 1966b: 10. See also Adam and Moodley, 1986.

[9]

Introduction

tionships-involving power and status-among members of a group. R. Harper explains: "Dominance is not a simple phenomenon descrip~ tive of an individual quality (a tendency to seek control over others), but it is a social phenomenon involving interindividual dynamics, be it gaining access to a food supply, opportunities to reproduce, or social influence" (1985: 33). My analysis pays special attention to the dominant elite's role in prescribing the governing ideas and values in South African society. From Aristotle to Plato, through Machiavelli and Rousseau to Comte, Pareto, Marx, and Mills, the role of elites in political and social life has been the subject of inquiry. An elite is a "relatively small, adventitiously organized group, which, legitimately or not, exercises authority, lays claim to exercise it, or believes it should exercise authority over the other groups with which it maintains a relationship, usually of a political or cultural nature" (Thoenes, 1966: 25). Elites, almost always regarding their preeminence as "natural," are associated with the conservation of the status quo. In contemporary South Africa, status groups tend to be coterminous with ethnic groups. Since the repeated use of "dominant group" and "subordinate group" can be tedious, I often use "white," "people of color," or "black." It should be understood, though, that I am concerned with the social position of these people, not their ethnicity. It should be understood further that each of these groups is enormously heterogeneous; only the very broadest generalizations apply. Where status difference within the groups is analytically significant, they are noted by the use of"Mricans," "Coloreds," and "Asians"; "English" and "Mrikaners." Empirical Data Umtata, during the late 1970s is the actual town under examination. In 1976 Transkei was granted "independence," in accordance with the government's separate development program, and Umtata became its capital city. 16 Before 1976, apartheid was the law and was generally speaking in full force; thereafter, most forms of racial discrimination 16 Because it was part of apartheid's "separate development" strategy, Transkei's "independence" (like its preceding "self-government") is not recognized internationally or by most South Africans. As it is cumbersome always to designate it as "bogus" or "so-

[10]

Introduction

became illegal. Since 1977, except for a period of three months, all the mayors ofUmtata have been African. Pretoria has permitted the repeal of most race laws, so amenities both public and private have been open to everyone. Africans own homes in formerly all-white neighborhoods and are members of prestigious and exclusive local clubs. Upper-level jobs have been opened to Africans, and affirmative-action policies encouraged them to apply. A few Mricans own businesses in the central business district, several even emerging as business leaders. Umtata whites fiercely opposed all change in the old structures. Like whites elsewhere in South Africa, they feared a loss of privilege and dominance. They believed that any empowerment of Africans would necessarily encourage reprisals and rebellion against whites. Above all, however, like their counterparts elsewhere, their culturally defined identities were so tied to the apartheid social order that any changes felt like personal attacks. Pretoria ignored these feelings and imposed separate development anyway. In effect, therefore, whites in Umtata were forced to renegotiate their relations with the Africans. Stripped of many formerly legislated advantages, the white power structure struggled to retain dominance in the face of an enfranchised indigenous majority. The white public has had to adjust to desegregation of amenities, to African advancement into roles previously reserved for whites only, and to black power at the ballot box. The horrors that whites imagined-such as indiscriminate racial attacks and widespread rapes of white women-did not materialize. In fact, within a matter of months, whites were praising the less tense, "nonracial" atmosphere. Their relative contentment was due largely to the fact that social relations had hardly changed. Their position of social dominance had not been radically altered; their fears of racial retaliation had not been realized; their physical comfort had not been disturbed. Their identity as whites-which depends heavily upon having certain kinds of relations with Mricans-had not been upset, and the world view of white superiority remained firmly intact. The patterns of change in U mtata, though they clearly have their distinctive features, are surprisingly representative of other parts of called," and because using quotation marks to indicate that this is not a legitimate independence becomes equally distracting, the fact must simply be recognized with only occasional reminders.

[11]

Introduction

South Africa. 17 Other "homeland" capitals, for example, had similar experiences. Mafeking, the small town on the Veldt which stirred late Victorians to a frenzy when the Boer siege was relieved in 1900, is making history again . . . . Since it was ... incorporated into the black independent Homeland of Bophuthatswana [in 1980], it has become a test case for multiracialism .... The town has reverted to its old name of Mafikeng, which in the Tswana language means "Place of Stones." Outwardly, not much else has changed, except that there are more well-dressed and important-looking black people on the streets .... When the 5, 000 white residents agreed at a public meeting to be incorporated and to join the 25,000 blacks as Bophuthatswanans, the safeguards they asked for were agreed to. This included continued control of the three white schools, of the one white hospital and, oddly, of the town's famous museum with its relics of the siege .... [One resident] says she can't recall a serious racial incident in the town since it joined the black state, and that for most people "things are on the up and up." Few of the whites have left but many have come in, and houses are hard to get .... A leading member of the Chamber of Commerce ... told me; "Mafikeng has been awash with money since we were incorporated. All our traders have been enjoying a boom." . . . Bophuthatswana's favourable investment terms have attracted builders and property developers from South Africa and overseas. Israelis are particularly prominent in the new building.... Blacks run the post office and in the shops black and white shop assistants swap views on pop music. Is it all a sham, as the black politicians claim, or do the Homelands help foster multiracialism and raise hopes of peaceful change throughout South Africa? 18

In the 1990s, many other South African communities are experiencing similar phenomena. Even more strikingly, many recent national events are illuminated by the patterns of change in U mtata. Events there not 17 How appropriate was Umtata for my study? In 1977, when I began the project, most of the country had not moved very far from grand apartheid. Only those communities that had been subjected to separate development seemed to provide an appropriate opportunity of studying the dynamics of change. I view the "homeland" issue as most Africans do. Even those living in a homeland regard the "independence" of their "country" as completely fictitious. They understand that separate development is just another apartheid invention. Viewed in this. light, such towns as Umtata differ from other communities only in that many race laws have recently been changed. Fortunately, this difference is precisely the variable that needs to be examined. 18 Sunday Times, 18 August 1981.

[12]

Introduction

only enhance our knowledge of contemporary South Africa but may also enlighten our general understanding of the dynamics of social change. Two basic observations seem to emerge. One has to do with the management, the other with the mechanics, of social change. In the first instance, U mtata focuses our attention on the central role of elites in the management of the change process. 19 The power to influence social, economic, political, educational, and religious events is not distributed equally through any society. Inevitably, a relatively small number of persons, in whom social and political power are concentrated, dominate most societies. This is not necessarily a unitary elite, nor must it act with a single will or be homogeneous. In recent times, it is usually thought of as a self-perpetuating leadership arising from bureaucratic institutions and organizations. T. B. Bottomore writes: The conceptual scheme which Mosca and Pareto have handed down thus comprises the following common notions: in every society there is, and must be, a minority which rules over the rest of society; this minoritythe "political class" or "governing elite," composed of those who occupy the posts of political command and, more vaguely, those who can directly influence political decisions-undergoes changes in its membership over a period of time, ordinarily by the recruitment of new individual members from the lower strata of society, sometimes by the incorporation of new social groups, and occasionally by the complete replacement of the established elite by a "counter-elite," as occurs in revolutions. [1966b: 12] This elite theory has recently been overshadowed by pluralism. The pluralist tradition associated with "stable democratic government" conceives of groups and interests being balanced within society; the later pluralist tradition conceives of society in conflict because of economic, social, and cultural cleavages. Pluralism has been the major theme of studies of South Africa (e. g., Kuper and Smith, 1969). A major shortcoming of pluralism is that it seems to compel the use of ethnicity as the major unit of analysis. Ethnicity may seem to be an appropriate starting point because, in the past, recruitment into domi!9ViJfred Pareto, Gaetano Mosca, and Robert Michels, regarded as the classical elite theorists, maintained that elites are an inevitable feature of all societies. The use of perspectives from elite theory here rejects, as most scholars do, those aspects of classical elite theory suggesting that elites are somehow naturally" superior" or that the presence of elites means that democracy is not viable.

[13]

Introduction

nant and subordinate groups, and into elites and non-elites, has often been done largely on the basis of ethnicity. Although this approach illuminates certain important aspects of reality, however, it obscures others. A major theoretical concern which is obscured is the interaction between dominant and subordinate groups, elites and non-elites. Furthermore, while the primary social actors, the dominant and elite groups, should receive particular study, the pluralist frame of reference has directed our attention away from them. This ethnography demonstrates that even when dominant elites cannot prevent change, the direction and speed of change can nevertheless be greatly influenced by their ability to manipulate the society's institutions and instill self-serving norms and values. It shows that dominant group culture, if successfully imposed, can be utilized to perpetuate dominant group preeminence, despite other major changes in the social structure. 2o Vincent Crapanzano's Waiting is a recent study by an anthropologist of a dominant group, South Mrican whites. In his words, it is about "the effects of domination on everyday life-not the everyday life of people who suffer domination but of people who dominate .... My concern is with social entrapment-with the way in which a people's understanding of themselves, their world, their past, and their future limits their possibility" (1985: xiii). Crapanzano does not try to place his own interpretation on the ethnography but rather, using the techniques of a novelist to portray the richness and complexity of social reality, he lets the people of Wyndal speak for themselves. The book's characterization of the whites as "waiting for something, anything, to happen" may accurately describe much of South Africa's dominant group, but it juxtaposes itself interestingly with my analysis. South Mrica's dominant 20 The behavior of the elite is central to some South Africans" analyses of their society. Koos van Wyk cites the South African national security system as a top political elite and argues that the term "elite"" is "well suited to describe the National Party government"" (1987: 68). He defines a top political elite as "a group of persons who are distinguished by exceptional performance in politics, who effectively unite (monopolize) the rule of a particular community in their hands, and, who possess a sense of group cohesion and a corresponding esprit de corps, usually expressed in co-optation; a political elite excels in the ability to secure power and rule"" (1987: 5). He distinguishes the bureaucratic elite, consisting of senior civil servants, from the political elite. South Africa has an enormously powerful economic elite as well. It is said that fewer than ten conglomerates control nearly 90 percent of the shares listed on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange and that fewer than a hundred directors, overwhelmingly white males, control these conglomerates (Star, 10 October 1990).

[14]

Introduction

elite is certainly not waiting. It is acting, as dominant elites do, to control and direct the change process. 21 Abner Cohen's study of Creoles in Sierra Leone looks specifically into the social functioning of dominant elites and underscores the inexorable link between social change and social control. Cohen emphasizes points that are also applicable to South Africa: Elites ... employ ideologies and techniques of mystification to maintain themselves in power, as well as serve the public. Most elite positions are given to members of groups who claim a monopoly on qualities of excellence .... The qualities under consideration here are not specific, specialized technical skills in which people can be trained [but] vague, mysterious qualities that elude precise definition .... This is the mystique sometimes referred to as "civilization," "culture," "nobility," "excellence," or "refinement." A common culture will thus develop both to express and to uphold the group's corporate interests . . . . the elite will develop three C's: consciousness, cohesion, and conspiracy. There is a dialectical relation between power and culture, the one acting on the other." [1966: 9, 4, xvii]

Social Segmentation and Restratification The second major observation from the U mtata ethnography is that dominant elites will seek not only to control the speed and direction of change but also to manipulate the mechanics of change. For South Mrica, the concepts of social segmentation and social restratification go a long way toward explaining how change is occurring. 22 These concepts also further refine the contention by elite theorists that social change is mainly a change in the composition and functioning of elites (Burton, and Higley, 1987: 225). Anthropologists are very familiar with the process of segmentation. E. E. Evans-Pritchard (1940) illustrated how stability is maintained in the N uer social order by creating balanced opposition between various For a review of Waiting by several South Mrican scholars, see Hugo, 1990: 328. concepts attest to Max Gluckman's thesis that "equilibrium is neither static nor stable but develops out of an ongoing dialectical process in which conflicts within one set of relations are absorbed and integrated within another set of relations" (quoted in Leons and Rothstein, 1979: 345). 21

22 These

[15]

Introduction

units. The process of defining and redefining the corporate groups balanced competing claims to rewards and thereby preserved stability within the polity. Structural oppositions became integrative for the society as a whole because cross-cutting loyalties and mutual dependence constitute forces of order and equilibrium. There have been significant advances in the theory of segmentary opposition. First was F. Barth's (1959) introduction of game theory to demonstrate that the criteria for social segmentation can be the conscious choice and strategic manipulation of self-interested actors. Second, M. G. Smith (1956) has shown that government in all societies must necessarily involve processes of segmentary opposition. 23 We can conclude, then, that social segmentation occurs in all societies and that the criteria for segmentation can be manipulated by self-interested actors. Ancestry, economic interests, wealth, religion, age, ethnicity, ideology, gender, social class, political interests, social interests, and language are among the many potential bases for differentiation between groups. These are often only latent groups, but they can become socially real at any time and can act corporately. When they do, they can influence the course of events in society, often becoming powerful and dynamic forces. 24 In practice, most latent groups do not become social actors at all, but some always do. Conversely, some major social actors-for example, the nobility-disappear as corporate groups. Social fission and social fusion are useful descriptions of how societies segment and resegment into corporate groups. 25 The process of social 23 Smith made the point in several ways: "Political action is always and inherently segmentary, expressed through the contraposition of competing groups or persons .... the same principle of segmentary contraposition orders political relations in any type of state, and necessarily, since competition to determine policy decisions proceeds by relative power and influence, and can have no other form" (1956: 48). Even wellestablished social groups can change status vis-a-vis one another. For instance, gender has long been an agent of differential status, with women being oflower status than men in many societies. The mobilization of women as a corporate actor, however, has increased their social status vis-a-vis men. 24 The emergence of a movement to fight sexism, for instance, has united people who were formerly differentiated on the basis of class, ethnicity, religion, and so forth. Women were essentially a latent group until recently. The same could be said for the elderly. As new corporate actors, however, these groups are now major forces in their societies. 25 I am accepting the premise that race relations are a question of the relative status positions of groups rather than a matter of relationships between individuals. For D. Foster, even in South Africa, "social identity and intergroup behaviour are products

[16]

Introduction

fission and fusion is continuous, and it is occurring in South Mrica today. Like segmentation, social stratification is also characteristic of every society. Just as social groups are constantly forming and re-forming, the process of ranking these groups is also continuous. Defining who has high status, who controls the social agenda, who exercises legitimate power, and whose interests are paramount is a perpetual social activity. Restratification-changing the old stratification criteria-is thus a necessary concept in describing the change process. It is noteworthy that social segmentation and restratification are congruent with the notion of a "circulation of elites" as articulated by some elite theorists. These concepts suggest some of the mechanisms by which elite circulation can occur. 26 The Umtata ethnography hints that transition in South Africa might well entail the circulation of elites by means of segmentation and restratification. But elites are not the only ones affected. These activities define and redefine the "social persona" of all members of society. Our interaction with most others is usually on the basis of socially defined roles. We are parents, children; male, female; boss, subordinate; wife, husband; white, people of color. Within a specific cultural context these group identifications tell us about our respective rights, duties, interests, roles, and responsibilities. The cues we get from these identities govern most of our social interactions. During social segmentation and restratification, some social personas are always redefined. Individual roles change, and new patterns of interaction are introduced. "Male" may no longer mean "dominant" in relation to female, for instance; or "old" may not mean "deserving of respect." Cultural symbols and social norms can be quickly adapted to fit new relationships. Gender-neutral terminology emerges, for example, or laws in the society venerate the young. In all of this, individuals gain and lose social identities. Who they are in relation to others is redefined. In these ways, social segmentation and restratification can disrupt patterns of dominance and subordinance. Much of the resisof large scale relations between groups, determined by two major factors-relative social status and perceived legitimacy/mutability/security of social category boundaries .. (1992: 18). This premise, then, sees the core issue in race relations as one of stratification. 26 Some theorists, such as Pareto, focus on the upward and downward mobility of elites; others, such as Mosca, are concerned mainly with how social groups and their interest groups acquire and lose prominence.

[17]

Introduction

tance to social change emanates from the fact that social identities contribute so substantially to our individual identities. In the case of South Africa, this partially explains why destroying the symbols of apartheid can throw whites into an identity crisis, and can "destroy their assumption that they are superior human beings and that their interests must have preference over those of blacks" (Terreblanche, 1989: 10). Although less obviously, like ethnicity, social class has also been an instrument of subordination in South Africa. The U mtata material suggests that as ethnicity ceases to be a sufficient tool for dominance, the dominant group will promote (and define) a class-based system of stratification as a technique to protect its preeminence. As one instrument of domination is modified in the name of change, another is intensified, to preserve elite group dominance (see Posel, 1983). In practice, the composition of the privileged and disadvantaged groups is minimally affected because class and ethnicity overlap so significantly. By and large, the people who enjoyed superordinate social status have retained that status. The people who had subordinate status have also retained that status. It is among the elites that change is greatest. They are beginning to circulate. In U mtata, the dominant elite furthered its interests by encouraging the segmentation and restratification processes. Because race was removed as a legislated criterion of segmentation, the population could, on occasion, segment on the basis of other criteria and recognize different commonalities. The old elite moved to the forefront of the change process, championing nonracialism and promoting class as an important stratifying factor. The stratification system adjusted to permit higher status for Africans with the proper class qualifications. The white elite then fused with a segment of the African elite to form a classrelated corporate group in which the white elite could still dominate. Regarding the theory of such behavior, we know that "a system of ranks does not form part of some natural and invariable order of things, but is a human contrivance or product, and is subject to historical changes .... 'the institution of class teaches the members of a society to notice' some differences and to ignore others when arranging persons in order of social merit.' ... social classes, in contrast to castes or feudal estates, are more exclusively economic groups." 27 Elite manipulation of class structure for purposes of domination is 27 Bottomore, 1966a: 10-12, quoting T. H. Marshall, "The Nature of Class Conflict," in his Citizenship and Social Class (London, 1950), p. 15.

[18]

Introduction

not unique to South Africa. 28 Throughout the continent, "the imperial powers favored and facilitated the emergence of a collaborative bourgeoisie" (Sklar, 1991: 219). The established elites wanted to recruit indigenous elites that could participate, albeit in a subordinate position, in the governance of the colonial societies. Nor is this elite behavior unique to ethnic elites in Mrica. The attitudes and images of the nineteenth-century elite in Stockholm are remarkably similar, according to A. R. Pred: "To many of the bourgeoisie ... the demands and threats generated by what they termed 'the under class' were demands and threats coming from what they regarded as virtually 'another race,' a less developed 'crude,' 'coarse,' unclean and dangerous people, 'a seething mass, a formless . . . rabble,' with many features that seemed to unite 'them with the primitive, the animal in the world'-'insufficiently controlled impulses, less elevated wants, simpler pleasures, and so on'" (1990: 129). The process of segmentation in Umtata allowed class-related and personal interests to be the basis for some new group formation. Race continued to be the most important variable for stratification, but it was no longer the sole variable. Both the dominant and subordinate elites now move back and forth between race and class identifications, choosing one or the other depending upon their definition of the situation and their personal interests. 29 In this manner, the deep social chasm which previously divided racial groups in Umtata has been partially bridged. The structural conflict between ethnic groups has been diluted and even masked. The very nature of all ethnic relations has thus been altered. A Culture of Dominance Most fundamentally, though, the ethnography emphasizes that like other cultures, the culture of dominance in South Africa is dynamic. It 28 It is interesting that the government in South Africa often refers to its plans as "power sharing." Nicos Poulantzas defines political power as the ability to realize class interests: "The capacity of one class to realize its interests is in opposition to the capacity of other classes" (1978: 147). In this light, restratifying along class lines would clearly perpetuate dominant elite interests. 29 In making this point, one is distinguishing between the form and content of social organization. Using Emile Durkheim's terms, there was some change in Umtata's "organic solidarity"-change in the form and structure of African/white interaction. However, there was no change in the "mechanical solidarity"-the dominant beliefs and values that undergird the society.

[19]

Introduction

adjusts to new conditions. In Umtata, we observe circumstances in which the interests of the dominant elite are served by allowing some access to social rewards by the subordinate elite. These few acquire higher status, but they do so on condition that they adhere to the dominant group's values and norms and participate in institutions controlled by the dominant group. The very process of acquiring "proper" credentials means that they must have substantially internalized the values, myths, norms, and social definitions by which the dominant group maintains its preeminence. 30 They must subscribe to the dominant group's world view. In return for being able to escape the status to which they otherwise would have been relegated, the subordinate elite must, in substantial ways, give its allegiance to the dominant group's culture of dominance. This phenomenon can be consciously exploited in manipulating change. Juan Gabriel Valdes has written persuasively on the "deliberate plan to implant previously inexistent concepts in the Chilean 'ideological market'" by using a select group of Chilean economists trained at the University of Chicago (1991, 25). His analysis discusses the "process of ideological transfer," noting among other things that historically, powerful empires and nations have transmitted-sometimes by simply organizing their influence-their values, beliefs and forms of organization. And in every case, specific elites located in the power structures of these powerful nations have understood the political value of these transfers and have tried to find the best way to organize them into a permanent flow.... the product is appropriated by a specialized group that must fulfill the same function as the transmitter and that is determined to reproduce the transferred product and to spread it throughout society." [1991: 33]

Inculcating a set of key ideas and implanting a set of key institutions allow structures of dominance to remain firmly entrenched even as other social forces, such as segmentation and restratification, emphasize change. In practical terms, this means that South Africa may be able to deracialize without making fundamental changes in who belongs to the dominant social group. This is the essence of dominant 30 This process is called co-optation, and it occurs naturally throughout all societies. It is not linked to ethnicity nor is it necessarily pejorative. It merely refers to the fact that the individual in a larger group, in order to succeed in that group, tends to internalize its ideology, goals, and procedures (see Selznick, 1949).

[20]

Introduction

group behavior in South Africa, behavior that flows naturally from the culture of dominance. This is not at all to argue that the culture of dominance will prevail. Nor is it to maintain that these are the only factors in the social transition. Rather, it is to say that these powerful forces will be present as South Africa evolves. In U mtata the South Mrican government eventually succeeded in compelling most members of the dominant group to leave, against their wishes, creating a largely Mrican town. The social processes during this transition help illuminate how social change is occurring elsewhere in South Mrica. For example, there is unlikely to be a sharp break with the past, but a jockeying between competing elites, leading to accommodations and compromises, as well as a dogged defense of dominant elite interests. In fact, at the local level, the 1990s have already led to the establishment of multiracial authorities in many communities. Events at the national level could also be interpreted in this light. Moreover, the kind of lead-in to dismantling apartheid that occurred in U mtata is already well under way throughout the country now. It would be imprudent to exaggerate the parallels between events in Umtata and events elsewhere in South Africa. Nevertheless, Umtata helps us, first, to focus on the culture of dominance that pervades much of the dominant group's behavior. It calls our attention to the social control devices that the dominant elite is using to direct and manage the change process with a view to preserving its dominance in the postapartheid society. Second, the U mtata ethnography informs us about the nature of structural change in apartheid, in particular, social segmentation and restratification in which class is a force in the creation of new corporate actors. In making this observation, one is reminded of W. J. Wilson's (1978) analysis of the declining significance of race in America and its relationship to a permanent underclass. Protected by their class credentials, the African-American elite can escape the low status to which they would otherwise be relegated. But the African-American nonelite are thrust into a hopeless spiral of subordinance. This phenomenon is significant for social dominance, given the belief that elites become decadent and unable to cope with the tasks they must undertake unless they recruit the most able elements from outside their ranks. Third, U mtata teaches us that there can simultaneously be change and no change in South Africa. Major structural change such as the [21]

Introduction

elimination of apartheid can occur as an adaptive mechanism without significantly altering the society's patterns of dominance. We have empirical evidence to show how normative adaptations can be designed to favor the current dominant group. Among other things, the dominant elite will redefine key values-democracy, freedom, justice, affirmative action-so it can retain disproportionate power and privilege. 31 3l Steve Barnett's theoretical description fits the Umtata case. Defining the "problematic" as what an ideology places outside itself as part of that which is simply given, he suggests that "fundamental change becomes the replacement of one problematic by another, not the surface alterations that are grounded within a single problematic, and, to that extent, serve to reproduce a social formation, however modified" (1977: 275). The apartheid problematic is white dominance. Whatever the other changes, the problematic has not been significantly altered.

[22]

[1] Roots of Dominance

Africans are said to have settled in the Transkei, a region of some 16,000 square miles, during the seventh and eighth centuries. 1 Their first encounters with whites came hundreds of years later when survivors swam ashore from various shipwrecks along the treacherous Wild Coast between Port Elizabeth and Durban. The Sao ]oao and San Bento, wrecked in 1552 and 1554 respectively, were the first such disasters, but apparently their survivors had no contact with the local population. Survivors of the Santo Alberto, wrecked in 1589, told of an inland journey that may have entailed brief contact with the local inhabitants. The survivors of the Nossa Senhora de Belem (1635), Sao ]oao Baptista (1622), Sacremento (1645), and Stavenisse (1679), however, certainly had relations with the indigenous Xhosa (Saunders and Derricourt, 1974). Some of them, in fact, were absorbed by the Xhosa. The Lungu and Mholo clans, for instance, who live along the Transkei coast, trace descent from the survivors of several of these shipwrecks (Wilson and Thompson, 1969: 120, 233). In 1790-91 an expedition searching for survivors from the Grosvenor came across aged white women who had apparently survived an unidentified wreck between 1730 and 1740. The women had married Africans and had numerous children (Brownlee, 1923: 65). During the 1880s, a colored descendant of the survivors of the Grosvenor, which was last reported off the coast of Pondoland in August 1782, is said to have been married to a white trader in Pondoland (Macquarrie, 1962: 50). I

Daily Dispatch, (East London) 3 August 1978.

[23]

Dismantling Apartheid

White Settlement In the long term, these early encounters with shipwreck victims were not significant. The Xhosa came into permanent contact with whites, and the Transkei developed a white population only as a result of the eastward migration of settlers. During the early eighteenth century, traders from the Cape Town area pushed eastward in search of cattle and ivory, making contact first with the Khoi and San and, later, with the Xhosa-speaking people. Settlers looking for hunting and grazing land followed the traders. They too encountered the Khoi, San, and Xhosa. But unlike the traders, the settlers competed with Mricans for the same scarce resources: land and cattle. The period of white settlement was thus characterized by constant fighting and raiding as Mricans resisted the advancing whites. The settlers' need for priority access to political, economic, and social rewards led to the superordinate-subordinate group relations that emerged. 2 In the area west of the Kei River, now referred to as the Ciskei, at first a curious symbiotic relationship developed between the two groups. Churches, for instance, by offering spiritual rewards to the missionaries and access to education for some Mricans, provided a place for mutually beneficial contact. By the mid-nineteenth century, white leaders had even developed various political interests in increased Mrican-white cooperation. 3 Trade and employment often led to cooperation. Hides and ivory were exported from the area; blankets, beads, metal, guns, and horses were imported. 4 Indeed, contact with traders led to increased production by indigenous farmers, who created agricultural surpluses of wool, grain, sheep, cattle, and skins that were sold in the new market. Agricultural success on the part of Mricans, however, was not in the interests of white farmers and mine owners. White farmers faced competition in the product market from African farmers, and both white groups preferred conditions that would generate larger numbers of Mricans willing to work for low wages (Maree and de Vos, 1975). 2 For good descriptions of this period see Wilson and Thompson, 1969, 1975, and Saunders and Derricourt, 1974. 3 For example, the Cape Colony was requesting self-government from Britain, and a modus vivendi with Africans was an important factor in the outcome of that request. 4 By 1831, Grahamstown was annually exporting 50,000 of goods (Wilson and Thompson, 1969: 242). Also see Crais, 1992.

[24]

Roots of Dominance

Survival for both groups depended in large measure on their herds and agricultural production. Eventually, cattle raiding by both parties became commonplace. The acquisition of guns and horses put Africans in a better position to resist settler encroachment and led to bitter fighting that lasted for nearly one hundred years. White migration from the Cape slowed at the Kei River. Following the settlers, the British extended their administration into the Ciskei. In 1835 a government agent began "advising" independent Xhosa chiefs, and as parts of the territory were annexed, native commissioners or magistrates were placed in charge. The culture of dominance began developing during this period of white emigration and settlement. In the first part of the nineteenth century the British settlers, because of the impact of the Enlightenment, had relatively open-minded and positive images of Africans. But about the time of the abolition of slavery in the 1830s, settlers' perceptions of Africans became increasingly racist, and images of the Other became increasingly intertwined with white identity. C. Crais (1992: 128) emphasizes: "This transformation in the representation of the black coincided with-and indeed was very much part of-a process of cultural adjustment as emigrants became colonists ... and a colonial identity began to emerge." It was also the case, no doubt, that as slavery was outlawed, a new basis-in this case, a cultural basis-for settler domination of Mricans had to be rationalized. "These psychological processes and the construction of a colonial identity took place in a situation of rising conflict .... What the British settler elite 'saw' was all that they considered repugnant in their own culture, a process which anthropologists have termed 'symbolic inversion.' ... Africans were increasingly represented as libidinous, uncontrolled, lazy and disrespectful of established authority. The settlers, in turn, became what the Mrican was not" (1992: 128-29). These popular attitudes fashioned colonial policies and were used to justify white domination and control. Images of thievishness, licentiousness, indolence, immorality abounded and were propagated in white society into an African "type." "As the colonial elite studied the Other, the soul of the African became a 'place of darkness.' In the construction of negative stereotypes, the Mrican was gradually stripped of his or her individuality. . . . The 'Hottentot' and the 'Kafir' as social types became metonyms of a dominated life, simple names which immediately conjured up the images of a people whose [25]

Dismantling Apartheid

control required a plethora of coercive laws and disciplinary institutions erected by the colonial state" (Crais, 1992: 138). 5 This process did not go unchallenged however. Much too little has been written about the decades of Mrican resistance to settler domination. C. Saunders, a noteworthy exception to this generalization, counters the popular view that the Cape-Xhosa war of 1877-78 was the last attempt by an African group on the Cape's eastern frontier to escape white rule. He describes the Transkeian rebellion of 1880-81, which involved one-fifth of all Transkeians and influenced future Cape rule in the area. 6 Mter the Cape-Xhosa war of 1877-78 they had been told to surrender their arms and to start paying hut tax. In early 1880 there was talk of a house duty of ten shillings being imposed on top of the hut tax. Matanzima, one of the Emigrant Tembu chiefs, told a Cape official bitterly: "Government does not say to me like a man I am going to take this and that privilege from you but one by one my rights are stolen from me in the dark. Government is a wolf." With the three other major Emigrant Tembu chiefs, he had presented a petition to the Cape Parliament against the Tembuland Annexation Bill in mid-1880, but it had been completely ignored. Instead the Cape Parliament had passed the Bill in a form which provided for the full introduction of colonial law in all its aspects into the annexed territories. The Tembu were not to know that this Bill would never receive imperial assent and would eventually lapse; instead they expected the annexation of their country to be soon carried into effect and feared the consequences. Both in Tembuland and in Griqualand East the pressures of white rule had increasingly disrupted the fabric of traditional society in the late 1870's. The chiefs found their powers slipping from their grasp. Their courts were superseded by the magistrates' courts, which enforced decisions and inflicted corporal punishment. [1973b: 5]

It cost the government £1,250,000 to put down the Transkeian rebellion. For the rebels, the death toll was in the thousands. About one hundred Mfengu, who assisted the settlers, and fifteen to twenty 5 "The discourse of the Other . . . ultimately underpinned an emergent colonial identity. This identity revolved around a series of dichotomies within the Manichean struggle of'civilization' and 'barbarism'" (Crais, 1992: 128; also see Beinart and Bundy, 1987). 6 At this same time, the Basuto were rebelling against the Cape proclamation of 1880 requiring them to surrender their guns. This "gun war," which led to Lesotho's being returned to British administration, and the Transkei rebellion were regarded by a prominent historian as "the most formidable attempt ever made by natives in South Africa to throw off European supremacy" (Saunders, 1973b: 2).

[26]

Roots of Dominance

whites were also killed. In addition, there was substantial loss of land and seizure of "vast herds" from the rebels. "White farmers took advantage of the rebellion to move into some of the fertile land from which the rebels had been driven, and soon a belt of white settlement ran through part of the western Transkei" (Saunders, 1973b: 11). The strength of African resistance to the imposition of white authority was so great that the Cape government actually decided to transfer the Transkei to British governance, as had been done with Lesotho (Saunders, 1973b: 12). But because of the increasing number of settlers, Cape Governor and High Commissioner Sir George Grey had already proposed in 1854 that all of the Transkei Territories be brought under white rule. Permission from London was required for this to happen, since the Cape colony was not yet self-governing. It was at this point that the 'issue of annexation of Transkei became connected with the question of self-government for the Cape. After being granted "responsible government" in 1872, the Cape authorities moved in a piecemeal fashion to bring the Transkei Territories under their jurisdiction, and all but Pondoland were effectively under white rule by 1878. Magistrates administered these territories as Cape Town's representatives. Legal annexation began in 1879 and, after a series of"Kaffir" wars, was completed in 1894 (M. Wilson, 1969; Saunders, 1973b). Indeed, had it not been for the 1880-81 rebellion, Transkei might have been brought into the boundaries of the Cape Colony in the same manner as Ciskei. There was a change of government in the Cape in 1884, however, and that transfer never occurred. Nonetheless, the 1880-81 rebellion delayed the annexation ofTembuland, Gcalekaland, and Pondoland until the late 1880s and 1890s. By then the Cape had accepted Transkei as a "reserve" for blacks; it would be ruled separately from the rest of the colony, and no more land would be given to whites. Saunders notes the "shock" and "longlasting effect on the colonial mind" of the 1880-81 challenge to white control. "The Sprigg ministry, which was blamed for both the Transkeian and Lesotho rebellions, was driven from office in May, 1881, but the colony did not easily recover its former confidence in its ability to administer large numbers of Africans" (Saunders, 1973b: 12-13). The presence of settlers in Ciskei had pushed many of the Xhosa into Transkei. By 1832 some traders had followed the African migrants as far as the U mtata River. 7 Mission stations subsequently formed the first 7 1t is not clear how the U mtata River received its name, but there is record of it already having had that name in 1688 (Mayoral Minute, 1982-83, p. 16).

[27]

Dismantling Apartheid

European link between Natal and the Cape Colony. The Wesleyans' string of missions included Butterworth (1827) and Emfundisweni (1862) (Macquarrie, 1962: 5, 6). An Anglican mission was established at Tsolo in 1865, and a Roman Catholic one at Lourdes, near U mzimkulu, in 1888. Several of these sites later developed into towns. Although white settlement in Transkei was primarily an extension of the Cape frontier, a number of the early traders came from Natal, some arriving as early as 1824. Indeed, of the fifty to sixty traders operating in Pondoland during the 1870s, many were from Natal. s As a matter of policy, white settlement in the Transkei Territories was restrained by government because these came to be considered "Mrican" areas. First of all, annexation ofland west of the Kei pushed Mricans across the river. But there was nowhere for Africans to be pushed beyond the Transkei. Thus, one reason more land did not fall to whites in the Transkei is that it fell to whites in the Ciskei instead, the Transkei being an effective "dumping ground" for displaced people (Saunders and Derricourt, 1974: 193). Second, the Cape government feared that granting land to whites in Transkei might provoke another large-scale revolt. Third, treating Transkei as a "black man's country" would make it easier to turn the area into a labor reserve. Finally, the white population in the Cape was reluctant to add such a sizable group to its already large Mrican population, since at the time the Cape franchise had no color bar (see Saunders and Derricourt, 1974). As in Ciskei, the character of race relations in the Transkei region was largely determined by the settlers' frontier culture. Earlier ideas focused on the whites' "civilizing mission," as a result of which Mricans were eventually to be "amalgamated" into white culture. But by the turn of the century, the images and strategies that had developed in the eastern Cape moved into Transkei, and the focus shifted from assimilation to segregation. During this period, whites throughout South Africa were feverishly struggling to sort out their relationship with the Mricans. Social Darwinism, eugenics, race, civilization, and culture were topics for both serious and popular debate. Anti-African notions so predominated that it was only a short time before they became policy and part of white culture (Dubow, 1987, 1989). Building on the base of"scientific racism," the 1913 Land Act later 8 Campion, 1976: 31. Between 1960 and 1979, Simkins estimates that 1.12 million Africans were "resettled" from rural areas into the homelands (1981: 6; quoted in Muller, n.d.: 9).

[28]

Roots of Dominance

allocated South Africa's land according to race. It created reserves for the Africans, of which Transkei was one, and confined rural land ownership outside the reserves to whites only. The effect was to force Africans in the now "white" rural areas to migrate into the cities, move to overcrowded reserves such as Transkei, or become tenant farmers on white land. The Native Land and Trust Act of 1936 subsequently increased the land allocation to Africans, further entrenching the basic provisions of the 1913 act, and allowed Africans to be removed from rural areas outside the reserves. With Transkei designated as an "Mrican area," turning it into a labor reserve was relatively easy. The 1922 Stallard Commission proclaimed that "the native should only be allowed to enter the urban areas, which are essentially the white man's creation, when he is willing to minister to the needs of the white man, and should depart therefrom when he ceases so to minister" (F. Wilson, 1972: 232, quoted in Muller, 1985a: 32). It followed from this policy that Africans were only sojourners in the white areas and that only economically active Mricans should be allowed such sojourn. The Native (Urban) Areas Acts of 1923 and 1945 enshrined these policies in law. Transkei was the principal reserve to which Africans could be returned when the "ministering" was completed. The system of migrant labor "was extremely beneficial to capital, as it allowed it to avoid the social overhead costs of an urbanised proletariat. The reserves function[ ed] as a means of reducing the costs of the reproduction oflabor power, and thus allowed capital an increase in the rate of relative surplus value" (Nattross, 1976: 32). Despite the fact that it was an Mrican labor reserve, however, by 1936 there were 17,000 white settlers in Transkei (Southall, 1983: 147). In this year the South African Bantu Trust, in accordance with the Native Lands and Trust Act, began buying white farms and removing the settlers from the "native reserve." The majority of whites in Transkei, therefore, became resident in the towns and villages that grew up to meet administrative, professional, business, and recreational needs. Traders were the only whites allowed to remain in the rural areas. An unwritten law giving each trading station a monopoly within a four-mile radius ensured profits for all. Indeed, these trading families eventually became the well-to-do backbone of the white community. Race relations in Transkei followed a pattern similar to those elsewhere in the Cape. Though there was no white farming sector to constitute a bedrock for harsh conservatism, the ethic of white domi[29]

Dismantling Apartheid

nance was nevertheless well entrenched, complete with its images, myths, and stereotypes. The lines between African and white, between subordinate and dominant, were clear; yet, both Africans and whites remember this period as one of cordiality and little racial tension. Then, in 1948, the National Party won control of the South African Parliament and embarked on its program of apartheid. 9 Believing that mere segregation could not provide a permanently secure structure for white dominance, in 1951 the National Party government announced its policy of" separate development," requiring "a division of political power between the peoples, which, for the blacks, results in jurisdiction over their own nations and territories. The Black peoples can acquire political power by a process of political and administrative decentralization, which has developed rapidly over the past 28 years and has, as the ultimate aim, a series of completely independent states." 10 Explaining the policy, Minister of Native Affairs Hendrick Verwoerd unambiguously defined separate development as a necessary tool of white dominance. "This is not what we would have liked to see," he claimed. "In light of the pressure being exerted on South Mrica, there is, however, no doubt that eventually this will have to be done, thereby buying for the White man his freedom and the right to retain domination in what is his country" (quoted in Race Relations Survey, 1961: 97). At this point race relations in Transkei acquired a slightly different character. Separate development assigned a tribal homeland, or "bantustan," to each Mrican group, where members of that group must legally reside. Transkei was the first bantustan. In theory, therefore, from the 1950s on the entire area was to be declared black, and white residence would come to an end. 11 With Proclamation 180 in 1956, the government actually started to implement separate development. It established 123 tribal (or communal) authorities, twenty-six district authorities, nine regional authorities, and the Transkeian Ter9 Many Africans and English-speaking whites assert that 1948 was the beginning of harsher race relations in Transkei. 10 BENBO, 1976: ix. Between 1960 and 1980 about two million people were resettled to the homelands. The share of the total African population in the homelands increased to 48.4 percent in 1970 and reached 52.7 percent by 1980 (Simkins, 1981; quoted in Muller, 1983: 9). 11 To implement the plan, the 1951 Bantu Authorities Act established territorial, regional, and tribal "government" for each bantustan. This was followed in 1959 by the Promotion of Bantu Self Government Act, which abolished African representation in Parliament and pushed Africans further along the path of separate development.

[30]

Roots of Dominance

ritorial Authority with the aim of placing greater responsibility on the Transkeians. 12 Pretoria tried systematically to dispossess all whites in the bantustans by purchasing their property and businesses. First the rural areas, then the smaller villages and towns, were rezoned "black." Pursuant to the Group Areas Act, rezoning changed the racial group that could legally inhabit an area. Whites could no longer reside, own property, or operate businesses in these areas, whereas Africans who had formerly been prohibited from these activities now could do so legally. Concomitantly, some responsibility for road traffic, transportation, housing, health, hospitals, and even police stations was transferred to African authorities in the newly established black areas. A few Africans were made magistrates and given other decision-making posts (Southall, 1983; Race Relations Survey, 1972). The white settlers revolted, venting their outrage through the Transkei Territorities Civic Association (TTCA). Formed in 1912 as an outgrowth of the Farmers and Traders Association headquartered in U mtata, the TTCA was the main political voice ofTranskei whites. It was dominated by the major trading families. 13 They attacked separate development as "cutting the throats" of white traders. They accused Pretoria of sacrificing whites in order to pursue its own plan and of treating them worse than Britain treated whites in other parts of Africa.14 Together with the town councils and the chambers of commerce, the TTCA vowed to force Verwoerd to withdraw the plan requiring whites eventually to leave Transkei (Southall, 1983: 162). In 1961 the recently created Territorial Authority, under the leadership of Kaiser Matanzima, petitioned Pretoria for self-government, and under the terms of the Transkei Constitution Act, No. 48, "selfgovernment" in fact was granted in 1963. This meant that even the trading stations were no longer legal "white spots" in otherwise black areas. Theoretically, though not in practice, the traders became subject to African authorities. Once again the TTCA fought back. It requested Pretoria to allow traders to remain under the jurisdiction of the Republic "until such time as the Transkeian Government proves itself capable of administering its own affairs and the Bantu have proved themselves capable of governing the Transkei" (Race Relations Survey, State in the Making, p. 10. Each of the territory's twenty-six districts sent two representatives to the TTCA's annual conference. 14 Daily Dispatch, 22 March and 4 August 1960. 12A 13

[31]

Dismantling Apartheid

1963: 103-4). The request was denied, and the purchase of whiteowned trading stations began despite the TTCA's continued lobbying and protest. Though they opposed having to sell, TTCA members also complained bitterly that some stations put up for sale had not been purchased. They argued that there was no one who could buy them, since other whites were prohibited from doing so and Africans could not afford to. In addition, they complained of being "left in the lurch" and petitioned for greater economic security: "Some have had to close down. Others are carrying on under grave hardships .... No trader knows when he may be struck down by illness or in an accident. They want protection for their wives and children. Widows should have received priority. But this has not happened." 15 There seems to have been panic selling during the mid-1960s. The average price paid for stations grossing R6,000 annually was about R30,000. Nevertheless, the TTCA traders protested inadequate compensation, arguing that it would take R70,000-85,000 to reestablish a business elsewhere at the same profit level. The TTCA also balked at having no appeal on the offers made to them by the government's Adjustment Committee.I6 In forcing settlers out of Transkei, however, Pretoria never did subject whites to Mrican authority. In the smaller black-zoned municipalities, as Mricans were allowed to own property, they became ratepayers and, according to the Cape provincial regulations, also eligible to vote in local elections. Indeed, in Tsolo and Cala in 1969, several Mricans actually stood for office, but Pretoria postponed the elections.l7 To prevent Africans from having a say in matters affecting whites as Mricanization proceeded, the Cape Municipal Ordinance of 1974 legislated that only persons on the national voting rolls would Dispatch, 13 September 1965. Dispatch, 26 May 1966. Continuing its fight for white privilege, in 1968 the TTCA broke with the Liaison Committee, which had been established in 1962 to represent whites, on the grounds of "inaction." Instead, the TTCA asked for a direct audience with Prime Minister John Vorster. It was concerned about the position of whites who could not sell, the basis of compensation, and the government's assessment of the role of whites in Transkei (Daily Dispatch, 23 February 1968). The importance of the TTCA as the political voice of the settler community is seen in the fact that the TTCA congress was addressed in 1968 by South Africa's most senior official in Transkei, the commissioner general of the Xhosa National Unit, and in 1972 by the highestranking civil servant in Transkei, the chief secretary. In 1965 the South Mrican rand was equivalent to $1.40. 17 Daily Dispatch, 12 March 1973. 15 Daily

16 Daily

[32]

Roots of Dominance

thenceforth be eligible to participate in local elections. Not being on the national rolls, the new African ratepayers were thus stripped of local voting rights. Until independence was actually conferred, only whites were allowed to vote. Although it protected them vis-a-vis Africans, the government nonetheless put great pressure on the white settlers to leave Transkei. Between 1965 and 1973 almost all rural traders sold their businesses. After 1973 the exodus began from the small towns and villages. The white population of towns such as Encgobo and Lusikisiki almost completely disappeared. By the mid 1970s, only the larger towns ofUmtata and Butterworth remained as "white spots," where whites were legally allowed to live. 18 The exodus was traumatic: "We were born and raised here. We never had any intentions of selling and moving out . . . . Nobody was forced to sell, but once you start with an insecurity and when the wedge starts being driven in ... you find yourself alone. No neighbors. It leads to feelings of isolation [and] uncertainty about the future" (interview).

Umtata

The city of U mtata, nestled in green, rolling hills, became a blend of the old settler culture and the new culture of separate development. Colonial structures were side by side with modern office buildings. Flowering trees lined the broad streets, and the town was billed as "a bustling and cosmopolitan community exuding vitality and enthusiasm" (Transkei Official Tourist Guide, n.d.: 64). This site is said to have been first settled by R. W. Calverley in 1871. 19 We are told that Chief Gangelizwe of Tembuland became alarmed at the frequent clashes between his people and the Mpondo. As early as 1869 he is said to have encouraged a number of settlers to 18 Population figures indicate Pretoria"s considerable success in expelling whites from Transkei. Estimates of the white population are as follows: 1904-10,456; 191112,466; 1921-13,267; 1936-15,336; 1946-14,291; 1951-15,909; 1960-14,706; 1970-12,288; 1980-6,021 (Transkei Economic Survey, 1986: 89, table 7; I note the discrepancy, which I cannot explain, between the 1970 figures and that in Barclays, 1977). 19 Mayoral Minute, 1981-82, p. 21, report of the Town Clerk's Department. The municipality of Umtata is situated in U mtata District, an area of632 square miles; on the district, see Hammond-Tooke, n.d.

[33]

Dismantling Apartheid

occupy land under the terms of the indigenous land tenure system, hoping that their presence would keep the combatants apart (Souvenir Brochure, 1932; Master Plan, 1976: 6; Campion, 1976: 63). His original land grants, totaling 40,000 acres, were originally made on the south bank of the Umtata River against payment for an annual quirant of six pounds per parcel. 20 At about the same time, the Pondo chief made similar grants to whites on the north bank of the river. In 1875 Tembuland came under British rule (some say Chief Gangelizwe asked to be taken over), and the entire native reserve area was divided into four districts: Enjanyana, Engcobo, Umtata, and Mqanduli (HammondTooke, n.d.). An Anglican mission was established in U mtata in 1877 under the leadership of Bishop G. Callaway, and other missionary societies followed. In 1882 the government purchased land from ChiefGangelizwe "for the purpose of providing commonage for a town which was becoming a place of importance" (Brownlee, 1923: 38). Later, the offices of the chief magistrate ofTembuland were placed in Umtata, and land was acquired for a military outpost (Master Plan, 1976: 6). An early history reports that during the 1878-80 unrest the government occasionally sent detachments of the Cape Mounted Riflemen to U mtata. "But for the bravery and foresight of Major Elliot, in October, 1880, Umtata might have been subjected to entire destruction. He had been ordered to evacuate the little village, but acting upon his own initiative he remained in the settlement with a handful of volunteers ... and was thus the means of saving the village as well as the lives and property of the inhabitants" (Souvenir Brochure, 1932: 56). During the Transkeian rebellion of 1880-81, a "laager" (an Africaans word meaning 'a refuge from attack by hostile tribes') was erected to defend U mtata. The aim of the rebellion was the removal of the official white presence, but the settlers interpreted it as evidence of widespread anti-white sentiments among the Africans, even though "it was clear from the start of the rebellion that it was not aimed against whites as such. Not only were white women and children unharmed, as always in wars on the Cape frontier, but the various chiefs involved seem to 2o Hammond-Tooke, n.d.: 15; Campion, 1976: 63. Campion reports that in 1877-78, the white settlers fell victim to the conflicts, three of them being killed and many of those remaining returning to the Cape Colony. Their departure prompted the government to take over their farms.

[34]

Roots of Dominance

have tried to ensure the safety of individual whites" (Saunders, 1973b: 8-9). Nevertheless, white volunteer units were quickly organized to assist the Cape Mounted Rifles. Umtata did not receive official status until March 1882, when a Village Management Board was established under the leadership of Dr. T. R. Craister, Umtata's first mayor. The municipality was legally incorporated in November. Proclamation 192 of 1882 defined its boundaries, but they were subsequently altered by Proclamation 101 of 1883 and Proclamation 391 of 1906. 21 By 1884 the town consisted of 140 buildings, had a population of 490 whites, was an important commercial center, and housed a military station, churches, and administrative offices. Nevertheless, it existed in "a state of supreme isolation." The white inhabitants felt cut off, the unreliable mail cart and ox wagon being the only means of communication except the telegraph. "Two events of great importance occurred during the last decade of the nineteenth century. One was the construction, in 1894, of the U mtata River bridge, forming one of the chief connecting links between the Cape and Natal"; the other was the annexation ofPondoland, also in 1894 (Souvenir Brochure, 1932: 9, 11). Much of Umtata's early importance was due to the regiment of the Cape Mounted Rifleman that helped put down the African rebellion. In 1903, the town became the seat of the Transkei Territorial General Council, making it the regional capital of what some regarded as "the most perfect and progressive system of Native Administration in the world," a territory including not only the Transkei but the Ciskei as well. The town grew rapidly. In 1908 a "handsome" town hall was constructed. In 1910 and 1928 respectively, the Umtata Water Scheme and the first Hydro Electricity Scheme began. By 1946 Umtata's population consisted of 2,673 "Europeans," 719 "Coloureds," and 3,937 "Natives" (Souvenir Brochure, 1932: 21, 27; Master Plan, 1976: 6; Brownlee, 1923: 38). The apartheid laws, as they were introduced, and the more fundamental culture of white dominance that governed race relations elsewhere in South Africa were in full force in Umtata as well. Under the Group Areas Act, all of Umtata was reserved for whites, although the suburb of Norwood was for whites and Coloreds. For Africans, only the 21 Hammond-Tooke, n.d.: 15-16. Besides Mayor Craister, the other town councillors were Mathews, Wakefield, Housely, and Owen (Mayoral Minute, 1982-83, p. 17). In June 1981 the town ofUmtata was proclaimed a city (Mayoral Minute, 1981-82, p. 20).

[35]

Dismantling Apartheid

tiny outlying area of Ncambedlana was an alternative to the "location" ofNgangelizwe (see below). 22 Like other Transkeian whites, those in U mtata were shocked when the National Party announced its policy of separate development. In anger, the Town Council attacked the government, accusing it of ignoring "native welfare" and promoting racial tension and conflict. To allay their fears, Verwoerd, who at the time was minister of native affairs, even visited Umtata to meet with citizens' groups. But though he committed the government to a policy of not "forcing" whites out, he nevertheless made it clear that eventually "the natives would come to predominate in their own areas" (Southall, 1983: 152). The white community in Umtata actively fought the changes. 23 The Town Council became a major mouthpiece for all Transkei whites. Umtata councillors spoke out about white "uncertainty concerning Government policy as affecting these territories." They publicly questioned the establishment of a Bantu Authority in the Transkei Territories and worried about the repercussions. 24 Attempting to ease the immense stress among whites, the minister of Bantu administration and development, like Verwoerd, responded with assurances that as long as whites lived in the towns ofTranskei-"which of course will be for many generations" -their affairs would be controlled by the white government (Race Relations Survey, 1961: 98). The assurances notwithstanding, the separate development program continued, and white anxieties increased. In 1959 the U mtata Town Council convened a conference of all village management boards (white), the Chambers of Commerce, and the Transkei Territories Civic Association (TTCA) to "consider the procedure to be followed to obtain a clear and unequivocal statement from the highest government authority on the future position of the municipalities and village management boards in the Transkei territories and of the rights of the Europeans residing in the communities." The meeting decided to send a delegation consisting of two TTCA representatives and two represen22 In 1965, Proclamation R366 declared Norwood "black," allowing middle-class and professional Africans to move in. 23 Most Africans as well opposed separate development, preferring a nonracial, unitary South Africa. Many of the traditional authorities went along with the government, however, because they were recognized as the people's representatives and because the scheme breathed life into their fading roles. 24 Mayoral Minute, 1958-59.

[36]

Roots of Dominance

tatives of the local authorities to seek an interview with the prime minister and the minister of native affairs. 25 Despite the frequently stated policy and the years of lead-in, Verwoerd's January 1962 announcement that Transkei was going to be granted self-government caught Umtata residents by surprise. The Town Council quickly deplored the absence of a "clear cut, defined policy regarding the Europeans and the European urban areas." It resisted the idea that whites must leave Transkei and projected their eventual departure into the very distant future. Articulating a sense of eminent domain, the 1961-62 Mayoral Minute confidently declared: "As the largest 'white spot' in Transkei, U mtata must obviously be the last town to be taken over completely by the Bantu, and this 'taking over' process must of necessity be a very long term one . . . . the presence of the White man in the Transkei will be very necessary for a long time to come." Still resisting Pretoria's plan, the Umtata Council in 1962 once again convened a meeting of the major white groups in Transkei. This meeting formed the Liaison Committee, which would represent all whites vis-a-vis the government. Two Umtata councillors served on the committee; D. F. Thompson, then Umtata's mayor, was the chairman. The committee's first demand was that the government establish a factfinding committee "to investigate and report on the position of Europeans in Transkei."26 The three-man Herkroodt Commission, as the fact-finding committee was named, received written and oral evidence from town councils, civic organizations, and community groups throughout the Transkei. After it made its report, the government belatedly issued a White Paper stating government policy with regard to white settlers. (a) Compensation would be paid for any real losses experienced by traders as a result of the territory's change in constitutional status. The onus of proving loss would rest on the trader. (b) In areas reserved for occupation or ownership by Bantu persons, a part-time, appointed Adjustment Committee would evaluate the land and improvements owned by whites as of30 June 1963. To these Mayoral Minute, 1959-60. Mayoral Minute, 1961-62. Horrell (1962: 87) reports that the government formed the Herkroodt Commission at the request of the TTCA. In either event, its mandate was subsequently broadened to include the problems of the Coloreds as well (1963: 102-3). 25 26

[37]

Dismantling Apartheid

amounts would be added the estimated value of a trader's goodwill, defined as profits for three years calculated retrospectively. Such properties might be purchased by the South African Native Trust at prices approved by the Minister of Bantu Administration and Development. The Minister might appoint the Bantu Investment Corporation, or any person, to conduct the business or sell or lease it to a suitable Bantu at a price or rent approved by the Minister. (c) Any payments involved would be made from a special account created from the funds of the Native Trust. [Race Relations Survey, 1965: 153]

There was great disappointment in U mtata. The Town Council found the government's position "cold and narrow" and thought that the White Paper "had virtually ignored the [major] recommendations of the Commission of Inquiry." 27 In the meantime, self-government had actually been devolved on Transkei, with Umtata as its capital. In keeping with cultural practices, U mtata retained its designation as a "white town," despite its being the capital of a self-governing bantustan. The white residents were still unsettled with respect to their dominant status, as the 1962-63 Mayoral Minute noted: "The European people in this area ... cannot be blamed for regarding this development with some concern particularly when their future position has still not been made very clear by those in authority." Official documents describe the changes that followed: For the time being, these [government] departments are administered by White secretaries on the payroll of the South African Government but seconded to the Transkei Government and responsible to it alone, a situation which will be gradually modified as Bantu with adequate qualifications become available to take their place. The same applies to certain technical personnel essential to the running of the territory. When the Civil Administration was transferred in 1963, 1,900 of2,467 administrative posts were immediately filled by the Bantu, leaving 567 occupied by Whites. By 1966, Whites occupied only 382 out of a total of 2,821; and by 1969 the number had dropped to 324 out of 3,460. 28

Because the government's focus during the decade 1964-74 was on removing whites from the rural areas, in practical terms separate 27

Mayoral Minute, 1963-64. State in the Making, p. 11.

28 A

[38]

Roots of Dominance

development had only an indirect impact on Umtata. 29 Daily interaction between Mricans and whites was hardly affected. The psychological effect was nevertheless substantial. Even separate development seemed to challenge the dominant group's identity, its members' view of their rights and their place in the natural order. A Transkei-born resident explained: The young people left around 1965, so they could start elsewhere. They settled and most are perfectly happy.... A lot of the old families left at retirement; 85 percent went to East London. The backbone of the population were traders. They were the dominant group of the original 18,000 whites. Most of the money to buy out whites went to them. The trader was happy to get out. They got phenomenal prices, prices designed to give a certain profit. ... Some are sorry they left because they could have sold later. Others are sorry because they don't know anyone who lived as well. No competition for five miles!" [Interview]

Because of its rural focus, the early phase of separate development did mean an influx into U mtata of rural whites who had sold their businesses and property. It also meant, however, that large numbers of other whites, mainly Mrikaners, came to administer portions of the program. Councillor Martin Johns recalled, "Until1964, Umtata had about 3,400 whites, of which 60 percent were born here . . . . Now [1978], there are about 4,500 whites, of which 20 percent were born here" (interview). In particular, the white staff of the Transkei Development Corporation (TDC) increased dramatically as it embarked on various projects. Additional personnel from Pretoria's civil service were seconded (that is, temporarily reassigned) to "assist" the new bantustan government. White contractors were brought in to construct prestige projects. White officers were imported for the Transkei army. White administrators and professors staffed the Transkei university. A host of middle-level managers and technical people invaded Umtata, boosting the economy. They all contributed to the growth and changing character of white Umtata. Despite the initial anxiety, white U mtata seemed to take these changes in stride. But in 1974 the government announced that Transkei was going to be given full "independence"; moreover, this astonish29 In 1963 there were 653 trading stations in Transkei; seventeen of these were owned by Coloreds, the rest by whites. There were no African traders.

[39]

Dismantling Apartheid

ing event was scheduled for October 1976, only two years away. Umtata's status as a "white spot" was to be ended. Until this time, the Umtata Council had resolutely resisted African "infiltration" into the "white" town. Even as the announcement of independence was made, and a zoning committee from the Ministry of Bantu Administration and Development was reassessing the zoning in Umtata in order to open more areas to Africans, the council drew up its own recommendations. It argued that "there should be no further zoning at this stage, but that consideration should be given to the taking over by the government of individual erven in the unzoned areas from those persons wishing to dispose of their property. However, no block in the unzoned portions of the town was to be zoned for Bantu occupation or ownership until all the erven in such a block had first been taken over. This procedure was to apply to business property as well as residential property."3 Criticizing the speed with which the government was pushing Africanization, a dejected council claimed that the final zoning proclamation took no cognizance of the whites' submissions. In fact, the rezoning in May 1975 left only a small white zone in residential U mtata, with only one hotel, one garage, and a few small businesses (Campion, 1976: 72). By that time, though, Umtata was the only municipal area in Transkei that was not completely "black." When the target date for independence was set, the Umtata Council realized that its days as an all-white body were numbered. Describing the quandary in which the council found itself, the Natal Mercury commented,

°

It is trapped by its need to obey the law [of apartheid] scrupulously while recognizing that apartheid will soon be scrapped. Predictably, the result is an ungainly civic jig. The city fathers speak of the fraternity which exists within the municipal limits-but cannot make up their minds whether to lease the town hall for a black function .... Nor will they hire senior Black staff to ease a desperate staff crisis because ... it is a largely accepted way of our South Mrican tradition and outlook that whites will not take orders from blacks. 31

Reassessing their position, some whites formed the Transkei White Citizens Association (TWCA) which took over from the TTCA as the guardian of dominant elite interests. The Umtata Council supported 30 Mayoral Minute, 1974-75. An erf(plural: erven) is a plot ofland about half an acre in size. 31Natal Mercury, 11 December 1974.

[40]

Roots of Dominance

and was represented in the new association, whose main objectives were "to protect the rights of whites and to negotiate on their behalf with the government on all matters affecting them for the mutual benefit of all." 32 Arthur Chapman, a former chairman of the Transkei Territories Civic Association, described the Transkei White Citizens Association: There are twelve tribes in Transkei, each with its tribal authority. Matanzima has said that whites are the thirteenth tribe. The TWCA is sort of a tribal authority. It is recognized by the South African and Transkei governments as the spokesman for whites. Formed about four years ago [1974], the association has about a hundred members now.... It deals mainly with compensation problems. Consequently, you have to own property or businesses to qualifY for membership. It does not matter whether you will or will not become a Transkei citizen .... We started with five municipalities-the five white ones-Butterworth, Idutwya, Umzimkulu, Umtata, and Encgobo. In those days, the ratepayers selected a municipal council, and each municipal council appointed two members to the Citizens Association." [Interview]

The older white organizations, the TTCA in particular, had opposed all changes in the apartheid social structure. By the time the TWCA was formed, however, the settler community had resigned itself to separate development and was concentrating its energies on extracting maximum benefits for itself. Unlike the TTCA, the TWCA was pledged to act in accordance with the policy of the central government of South Africa; indeed, Pretoria even participated in the construction of the TWCA's constitution. 33 As independence loomed, the TWCA pressured the government for firm legal guarantees that it would purchase all white property. But with only six months remaining, there were still over 1,100 whiteowned properties in the five white municipalities in Transkei, mainly in Umtata. The TWCA estimated that the government would require 32 Mayoral Minute, 1973-74. The TTCA had become defunct by this time. It was an organization dominated by traders, and they were virtually all gone. 33 Daily Dispatch, 18 July 1974 and 3 June 1976. Kaiser Matanzima, the head of the Transkei government, persistently objected to the fact that the TWCA did not seek the recognition ofhis government and did not negotiate with it. Furthermore, in a revealing commentary on separate development, he complained that the government of the Republic had no authority to "recognize" an organization in Transkei. (Daily Dispatch, 2 August 1974 and 7 June 1976).

[41]

Dismantling Apartheid

about R75 million to purchase them, but the 1976 allocation for this purpose was R3.5 million, half a million rands less than the 1975 allocation. The TWCA bitterly complained that if government retained the current budget, whites would be "sentenced" to remain in Transkei for at least twenty years. 34 Worse still, the settlers were informed that even the reduced amount was already committed. "The Government have blatantly revealed," the Daily Dispatch commented, "that as far as they are concerned whites must simply be deported, lock, stock, and barrel, without any compensation."35 The conflict between the government's separate development objectives and the settlers' interests led to bitter disagreements. As independence approached and white property had not been purchased, fear set in. The TWCA decided to send a delegation to urge the prime minister to allocate more funds for buying out whites. This request was supported by the United Party Member of Parliament representing Transkei: "These people find themselves thrust into a foreign country without their consent and in most against it," he argued. "After October 26th they will be subject to the laws of the Transkei government .... They want their rights to compensation protected in legislation."36 With the National Party in power, white ethnic politics as well as party politics were elements in the handling of compensation for Transkei settlers. The vast majority of white Transkeians were Englishspeaking and supporters of the opposition United Party, and many angrily attributed their misfortune to that fact. 37 They believed that the government would not have dared subject Mrikaners to such treatment. Very quickly, the question of compensation in Transkei became a national political issue. The case of the settlers was used to further the political attack on separate development. In Parliament, the United Party repeated most of the TWGA's arguments. First, it complained that the government allocation of R3.5 million was unrealistic and inadequate. Second, it attacked the prohibition against whites' owning land in Transkei. And third, it accused the government of being unreDaily Dispatch, 3 June 1976. Daily Dispatch, 19 May 1976. 36 Daily Dispatch, 16 April1976; 27 May 1976. 37 In 1960, when South Africa was declared a republic, the U mtata Town Council said the event was "a cause of sombre gloom for many in this part of the country," as was the consequent departure of South Africa from the Commonwealth (Mayoral Minute, 196061). 34

35

[42]

Roots of Dominance

sponsive to the needs of whites, whose position had become more and more untenable. 38 Despite the fact that the government had recognized the TWCA as the spokesman for Transkei whites, once matters came to a head, Prime Minister John Vorster refused to see its deputation when requested to do so. Outraged and frightened, the TWCA passed a vote of no confidence in the minister of Bantu administration and development, citing his failure to grasp the seriousness of the situation. The TWCA also threatened to petition Parliament for permission to address MPs from the bar of the House. 3 9 Arthur Chapman, as secretary of the TWCA, eventually led a delegation to meet with the minister of Bantu administration and development and ask for. three things: "Firstly, we are asking for financial protection after independence .... Secondly, we want the right in the event of offers made to buy property to be appealed either to the Transkei High Court or a valuation court. At present we can only appeal to the Transkei Adjustment Committee, who makes the offer. . . . Thirdly, we want to try and get an understanding to make certain an adequate amount is set aside for the Transkei Adjustment Committee each year." 40 The government responded by negotiating a number of"guarantees" for the settler community: after Transkei independence the schools and hospitals would remain racially segregated; the government accepted an "obligation" to buy property from whites and Coloreds; pension and medical aid benefits for municipal and Bantu Township board employees would continue to be paid; and the payment of pensions to South Mrican citizens would continue. The government refused, however, to give legal guarantees regarding the purchase of white-owned property. On this point, the policy statement said, "The Government of the Republic is obliged to compensate for any real loss resulting Daily Dispatch, 30 October 1976. Daily Dispatch, 19, 21, 27 May 1976. 40 Daily Dispatch, 2 June 1976. The TWCA had wanted "a select committee appointed to investigate complaints and recommendations regarding payment of compensation, the establishment of a valuation court to consider appeals, and legal provisions in an Act of Parliament ensuring the purchase of their properties." The 1964 White Paper had allayed property owners' fears then, but whites in the Transkei now required "an acknowledgement of responsibility for their compensation embodied in an Act of Parliament which will bind any future government should the present government or its members change" (Daily Dispatch, 3 June 1976). 38 39

[43]

Dismantling Apartheid

directly from the change of the status ofTranskei, of white and coloured owners .... It is the intention of the Government of the Republic of South Mrica to honour such undertaking and obligation and to transfer all land involved to the Government of the Transkei." 41 Four months before independence, Umtata was still a white spot, governed exclusively by whites. Racial segregation, job reservation, the Pass Laws, the Immorality Act, and the all-white municipal government were still in place. Nevertheless, apartheid had already begun to be dismantled. Mricans were gradually moving into formerly white jobs. In 1966 eighty-six white civil servants had been replaced by Mricans. By March 1967, 109 whites had been so replaced. Then, in 1974, Pretoria allowed five senior white posts to be filled by Africans. In the same year, the Department of Education began to increase Mrican wages to start closing the salary gap between Mrican and white teachers. In 1975 the African deputy commissioner of police was promoted to the rank of major, the first African policeman in South Africa to hold such a rank. 42 Although U mtata was still legally a white town, its character was clearly in transition. "Influx control" regulations had been relaxed in 1974, allowing Africans to seek employment in whatever area they chose. 43 Consequently, more Africans came into Umtata, with those capable of rendering professional and skilled services being completely exempt from control. With seconded personnel coming to administer separate development, whites moving from the rural areas into town, and Africans entering in larger numbers, between 1964 and 1974, Umtata's population increased from 12,287 to 24,805. 44 Also in about 1974, public facilities began quietly desegregating; by October 1976 most were effectively desegregated. And with independence, new laws prohibiting racial discrimination were promulgated. Mricans were allowed to vote. Job reservation was declared illegal, and even more Africans were appointed to posts formerly reserved for whites. Mricans were allowed to own property in Umtata, even in formerly all-white neighborhoods. The settlers remained deeply concerned about their future even after independence. In 1977, Arthur Chapman, a Town Council memDaily Dispatch, 9 June 1976. Daily Dispatch, 29 October 1966, 15 March 1967, 20 and 28 March 1974, 17 April 1975. 43 Daily Dispatch, 7 May 1974. 44 Mayoral Minute, 1978-79, p. 39. There were 20,129 inhabitants ofUmtata in 1970, including 3,000-4,000 whites, and planners projected a population of 60,000 by the year 2000 (Benbo, 1975: 37; Daily Dispatch, 27 June 1972 and 13 February 1976). 41

42

[44]

Roots of Dominance

her who was actively engaged in negotiating the purchase of white property, observed that whites are not being forced to sell or leave .... They will be compensated up to another fifteen years, but there is no compensation if they stay on or if they take out citizenship.... Many whites are being kept here by the fact that funds have not been granted. If more money were available, more would leave .... The government allots a certain amount each year and uses a point system to determine priority. The criteria are age (over sixty), health, financial solvency, isolation .... There are those who have stayed on, and a lot will continue to stay. They have an interest in Transkei. It is a pleasure to live without racial tension .... Our tribal blacks encourage whites to stay on. Transkei is fortunate in having blacks in contact with us-look at Rhodesia. [Interview] On the same subject, Mr. George Cooper a senior civil servant, com-

mented, Many whites left for fear of a decrease in the standard ofliving. There are always social classes, and one doesn't want to associate with just anyone. But some people, like Guzana, leader of the opposition, has always been able to associate socially.... Then of course there was a process of selfselection. The bigots left. The whites who remain are predominantly English .... The majority of whites who still own property will stay on. South Africa can't afford to buy all of these properties now. They are only buying in special cases. Whites are being offered 30 percent in cash and 70 percent over a period of years in South Mrican government bonds. This often doesn't meet their needs. They are in a dilemma. If they sell now, they don't have liquid cash to reinvest elsewhere. If they don't sell, property may further decrease in value. There is now a depressed property market caused by South Mrica buying high and selling low to the TDC. All of this is bringing valuations down. 45 Whites who remain are not entitled to compensation. If one was not tempted by the government's offer, he might well be frightened by the prospect of financial loss. With other whites legally unable to purchase his property and Africans being financially unable to purchase it, it often appeared that the government was the only buyer. The new laws prohibit land ownership and access to economic assistance by non-Transkeians. 46 4 5There seems to be evidence to support Cooper's assessment. One person told me that his mother had died two to three years before, and the government had valued his father's property at Rl20,000 for purposes of death duties. When his father put the property up for sale, the government offered him R30,000. 46 Interview. There was some profiteering associated with separate development. Speculative purchases after 30 June 1963 were supposed not to be honored. In fact,

[45]

Dismantling Apartheid

Ngangelizwe Although independence meant that old-style grand apartheid was finished in Umtata, inertia is a most conspicuous characteristic of the old patterns of race relations, and the established patterns of African subordination continued as part of the normal social order. For instance, the African township of Ngangelizwe was still where the vast majority of Africans were compelled to live. Founded in 1950, N gangelizwe is located on the southeastern periphery of Umtata. 47 It is referred to as "the location," describing its historical relationship with Umtata. Given the post-independence housing shortage, Ngangelizwe increasingly became a receiving area for households commanding a wide range of incomes, ranging from those trapped where they were by economic circumstances to those who could afford to live elsewhere but lacked alternative housing. Physically, Ngangelizwe has grown by a process of evolution. Soon after the township was established, 180 houses were built by the Town Council, but pressure for housing made "site and service" projects more feasible there: that is, "the inhabitants hired a serviced site and erected their own dwellings thereon." 48 In this manner, much of Ngangelizwe was built by its residents. Another fifty houses were built in the early 1970s by the Town Council, and these were rented to council workers. At that time an upgrading program was also initiated, but it was halted in 1976, with the sewer system still to be installed and services in Ngangelizwe still substandard. It was only after 1978 that the single access road to the township was paved. The South African government then agreed to finance the installation of a sewage reticulation system, but it "only provides for the installation of mains and the inhabitants will have to meet the costs of plumbing installations and connections themselves. As this will be expensive, it is expected that many years will elapse before a majority of inhabitants will have connected to the system .... Therefore the night soil removal service will need to be retained for a long time to come." By 1978-79, only a small however, I was told that some people who purchased property as recently as 1976 were bought out by government. An English-speaking white assured me, "Most of those people were Afrikaners." 47 The population of Ngangelizwe was in 2,000 in 1963. In 1980, it had 35,000 residents (Transkei Profile, 1985: 7). According to City Hall, by 1981 the city population was 40,000. By 1983, the total urban population (city and township) was 80,000 (Transkei Urban Housing Policy, 1983: table 4). 48 Mayoral Minute, 1978-79, p. 30.

[46]

Roots of Dominance

part of Ngangelizwe had been connected to the system. 49 As late as 1980 the project was still short of funds. 50 Nevertheless, according to T. Hart and G. J. Hardie (quoted in Thomas, 1982: 2-3): "N gangelizwe has a physical and social vitality that is evidenced in a number of ways. Building activity is widespread, as [African]landlords meet the demand for accommodation by adding rooms. Improvements to existing structures are common, because high-quality accommodation commands a higher rental than rooms that have been neglected and have fallen into disrepair. Socially, many residents have a positive commitment to Ngangelizwe. Landlords have invested a great deal in the area, and tenants, often because of the perceived advantages of living in Umtata, are prepared to tolerate the overcrowding and lack of privacy that accompany multifamily occupation of single residential sites."51

The U mtata population is believed to be growing at an annual rate of 8 to 10 percent. The estimated population in 1982 was 65,000 as compared with 20,564 in 1970 and 37,939 in 1980 (Thomas, 1983: 24). The peri-urban areas surrounding Umtata, however, including Ngangelizwe, are growing at an annual rate of 15 to 20 percent. This massive peri-urban growth is a result of natural population increase, ruralurban migration, and outmigration from the municipality due to overcrowding and high living costs. 52 In 1980 the entire district, which includes the municipality ofUmtata and the township ofNgangelizwe, had an estimated population of 150,000. 53 Ibid., pp. 30, 53. 1980-81 Mayoral Minute reported that the contractor had started the connections for 145 homes. 5I Renting is an accepted part of the Ngangelizwe way oflife. The monthly rental per room ranged from R8 to R25, depending on the size and quality of the accommodation. Landlords paid a site charge of Rll.50 per month and earned an average of R65 from rentals. The rental market served the interests not only oflandlords and tenants but also of employers in U mtata since 42 percent of the tenants interviewed were employed in the public sector. 52 N. D. Muller, 1985a: 168. The municipality is suffering from critical overcrowding; the occupancy rate is the most dense in Transkei (Transkei Urban Housing Policy, 1983: 43). 53 Transkei Urban Housing Policy, 1983: table l. The total de facto population of Transkei, according to the 1980 census, was 2,644,946. 49

50 The

[47]

[2] Portraits of Dominance

"Is South Africa racist? It is, but not entirely," asserted Mr. Harvey West, one of Umtata's white civil servants. "I don't think white South Mricans or even the government are practicing their policies from the point of view of prejudice, but from fear regarding their own security.... The motivation is not dislike of the rest, but it is being in a position of privilege. Particularly the Mrikaner-he even fears that from the English .... The concern is with the swamping of culture and standard of living" (interview). In the sense that dominant group behavior in South Mrica must be largely understood as a cultural phenomenon, rather than simply the collective activity of individual racists, West's point is well taken. Apartheid clearly shaped the lives of ordinary whites, just as it shaped the lives of Mricans. 1 Socialization instills a set of fears, values, norms, myths, and a world view. Consequently, most whites learn above all to be concerned about their "security" (that is, dominance), and the motivation is privilege. In terms of dominant-subordinate relations, even separate development seemed to threatened Umtata whites. Having the culturally prescribed world view, they found any change in the apartheid social order unjustifiable and felt that they were being "sacrificed" and "sold down the river." Rather than face the uncertainties of change, many I Racial demarcation of status groups provides maximum protection for dominant group privilege because race is ascriptive. One who is of a privileged race cannot lose that privilege; one who is not cannot acquire it.

[48]

Portraits of Dominance

relocated and enjoyed apartheid elsewhere. Some chose not to relocate. Other white Transkeians, having left the rural areas or the smaller towns, became city dwellers for the first time. These were joined in Umtata by whites from elsewhere in South Africa who were temporarily transferred or seconded to help implement separate development. Together they constituted the dominant group, but all of them had to confront the prospect of losing dominant status. Because separate development was a cornerstone of apartheid, they sensed that creating "independent states" from Bantu homelands was ultimately supportive of white dominance. But because change was being imposed on their community, the specter oflosing their privilege and of being subject to African reprisals suddenly became hauntingly real. The portraits of selected individuals which follow are intended to provide more background about Umtata's dominant group: who its members were, what their life-styles were like, and what views they held on racial issues. Key informant interviewing in 1977 and 1978 was the source of this information. I have tried to choose people whose stories add most to our understanding of change and continuity in U mtata. Although I sought key informants from across the spectrum of the dominant population; this group was not randomly selected. Fictitious names are used in every case. (A statistically valid sample of whites was obtained for the broadly based questionnaire survey discussed in Chapter 6.) Numerous meetings were held with the persons described here. They are ordinary residents. Virtually all of them accept the ideology of separate development. Most believe that the Transkei government is a real government and that they are whites living in an independent country ruled by the African majority. Having grown up with grand apartheid, they found this a significant change in their lives. The narratives dramatize common prejudices, widespread fears, and perceived group interests. In recounting the lives of these people, I hope to have added texture to the historical picture and depicted social change as it affects real people. Most important, however, the portraits reveal the extent to which dominance is part of the culture of white South Africa and how apartheid "logic" pervades everyday thinking. Dominant groups always justify their rule through various legitimizing myths and beliefs. 2 South Africa is no exception. Stereotypes and 2

In the United States, for instance, the "mythology of segregation enabled successive

[49]

Dismantling Apartheid

cultural myths have been created, largely through manipulation of the "cultural memory," which is "selective and biased towards those social events which will psychologically enhance the social position of the ruling class, not only in their own eyes, but in the eyes of the subordinate classes" (A. Smith, 1983: 37). In discussing the political mythology of apartheid, Leonard Thompson (1985) has explained how the idea of race has been used in the construction of the white world view in South Africa. John Sharp talks in detail about the ideas and myths that constitute a "carefully concocted discourse" about the nature of South African society, which creates a "logic [that] serves the interests of those who wield power." Complicating the racial dynamics in South Africa is the way these ideas are intricately linked to the individual's sense of identity. Early in his exposition, Sharp correctly points out that "any interpretation [of the world] depends on the identity, beliefs, knowledge and interests of the people doing the interpreting, as much as on the characteristics of the objects being interpreted" (Boonzaier and Sharp, 1988: 6, 1). Illustrating how their dominance is accepted as the natural order, most of the interviewees presented here had "never thought" about being white, despite its obvious importance for their life chances and their admitted awareness of the liabilities of being black. Similarly, most did not think that Africans had legitimate grievances. They had inculcated the apartheid view of reality, including its many stereotypes and social myths. Segregation was to them a natural state of affairs, part of their way oflife. In short, assumptions about dominance have been so fundamental to the white South African world view that they seldom need to be raised to the level of consciousness. They are part of the culture, and they serve to buttress and perpetuate the status quo. Margie

"I can't remember when there weren't blacks around," said Margie. "I was raised on a trading station and only played with blacks. I got more of a shock when I saw whites. . . . I went to a convent school which was multiracial." Margie is a single woman in her midtwenties, slender and of medium height, with a pleasant though quiet and shy generations of white southerners to believe that the particular form that segregation took in their day constituted the historic way of the south" (Killian, 1985: 26).

[50]

Portraits of Dominance

personality. Her family goes back four generations in Transkei. Her great-grandparents were among the English-speaking traders who migrated from further west and settled across the Kei River in the late nineteenth century. They hunted wild animals and bartered beads, copper bars, blankets, coffee, tea, sugar, brandy, firearms, and ammunition for ivory, cattle, and cereals. Eventually they became one of the most successful trading families, enjoying an exclusive four-mile monopoly. 3 There were few circumstances in which the social, political, and economic dominance of whites was more starkly apparent than on the trading station where Margie was raised. Monica Hunter (1961: 10-11) tells us about the atmosphere in these places: A [trader's] store serves as a club for the district, the people gathering there to meet friends, hear the gossip, flirt, and beg tobacco. Trade was brisk ... and there were always numbers of people about. The trader's wife made the cotton skirts which Pondo women wear; customers used to arrive in the morning, order a skirt, and wait until it was finished. The women were in the habit of chatting with my hostess who was extremely popular. ... Sitting in a corner of the store I listened to the gossip, and joined in the conversation. We talked about marriage, initiation, crops, and children. One woman would give her views, another chip in with comments. I heard about the latest affairs; who had been beaten by their husbands, and why; who were pregnant; what sort of crop had been reaped; who was sick; and who had bewitched them .... Letters [young men] had written to wives and sweethearts were brought to the store to be read. . . . The store was doing a flourishing trade in European blankets, cloth, tinware, sugar, salt and tea. Money was in general use.

Most Mricans in the district were almost totally dependent upon Margie's family. Not only did they purchase virtually all their worldly goods from the trading station, but in good years they also sold wool and surplus maize there. The need for cash to pay taxes or purchase "imported" items meant that Mricans frequently sold much of their crop to Margie's parents, only to have to buy some of it back later at a higher price. 4 Later, a five-mile radius became the practice. "On average, probably at least as much grain is bought back as is sold" (Hunter, 1961: 142). 3

4

[51]

Dismantling Apartheid

The system oflabor recruiting and of granting credit locked Africans into a dependence cycle with the trader. The Native Recruiting Corporation used the traders as recruiting agents. Reports Hunter (1961: 108): "Traders get a bonus of lOs to £2 on every man they recruit. Men are encouraged to 'join' by advances of money which are usually spent in the trader's store. The advance and fare [are] deducted from the first month's wages." In addition to paying accumulated debts to the trader, the migrant laborer or his family bought sheets, blankets, shirts, trousers, soap, matches, and sugar. There was even a system whereby the migrant's employer withheld money from his wages and remitted it directly to the trader to pay the family account. In fact, the only income of the migrant laborer that was not likely to reach the trader ultimately was tax money paid to the government. 5 When we talked, Margie's family was still part of Umtata's elite. Close relatives were major figures in business and politics. The family was regarded by Africans as liberal and progressive on race matters. At the time, Margie was employed as a semiprofessional, having taken a secretarial course after completing secondary school. The description of her childhood recalled situations of close interracial interaction in the American South, where there was a "long-accepted practice of inviting black servants to share in white family 'rites de passage'weddings and funerals" (Killian, 1985: 25). Despite her rural upbringing and intimate contact with Africans as a child, Margie said she speaks Xhosa only slightly. 6 Of her life in U mtata, she said: I like Umtata. I like the small town atmosphere. It's home. I have family here. Of course the cost ofliving is too high and there is sometimes a lack of amenities, but I like it. My entertainment comes from chatting with friends, watching 1V, going to dances and out for drinks. I don't belong to any clubs. Occasionally-about once in three months-I go to a restaurant for dinner. About once a month or so, I go to the coast for a break.

Margie did not vote in the 1977 municipal elections, however. She said that being white, she was no longer eligible to vote in U mtata elections. This was not at all an accurate statement, but her reasoning 5 Noting the economic advantages of this relationship, one former trader dismissed the significance of the R25 retainer from employers: "I would have done it anyway because it brings income into the district and ties the family to the trader via credit" (van der Horst, 1942: 112). 6 Margie may have been modest here; her parents had long made a habit of hiring household help who only speak Xhosa.

[52]

Portraits of Dominance

shows the pervasiveness of apartheid "logic," which imputes an element offairness to the separate development system: since Mricans are not allowed to vote in white areas, whites should not be allowed to vote in Mrican areas. This is an instance of the culture socializing Margie into views that ultimately protect white dominance. Echoing most whites' sense of relief that independence had not ended their dominant status. Margie continued: Things are better since independence. There is no friction between the races. On the surface, it's all fine. I don't know about underneath. I've never probed deeper.... Discussions about blacks and race problems crop up quite a lot in daily life. Most South Mricans are ignorant about Transkei. They want to know about the situation since independence .... In the past few years, there's been progress. Blacks can vote. Education is improving. It's their country. They can come and go as they please. I think that the curb on free movement must have been the most terrible part of the old system.

Margie's tone reflected the lingering uncertainty and general apprehension that whites feel about their future. Although she wanted to stay in U mtata, the South Mrican government had made it clear that whites were expected to leave. Even those born there, like Margie, were not citizens ofTranskei. Under the law, they retained their South Mrican citizenship, including the right to vote in South Africa, but adopting Transkei citizenship after independence meant losing one's South Mrican citizenship. 7 Whites continued to be represented by the same Member of Parliament, though that representative no longer had authority in Transkei. Very early on, there were rumors of a policy change that would allow whites to be dual citizens. White Transkeians were hopeful, but these proved to be just rumors. In practice, Pretoria continued to exert great pressure on whites to leave. The Matanzima government worked hand in hand with the white authorities in this connection. Early in 1974 the bantustan leader announced that whites would not be eligible for citizenship in an independent Transkei. In line with Pretoria, he argued that the 1936 Land Act set Transkei aside for the exclusive use of Mricans. "We would want to see our own people owning territory in these areas. They have not owned property for 300 years." On the question of opening Umtata to African ownership, Matanzima replied, 7

Daily Dispatch, 17 July 1974.

[53]

Dismantling Apartheid

"Yes, and all the other Transkeian towns too." He added further that about two weeks after independence, the 320 civil service posts held by whites would be advertised for Africans. 8 Whites were frightened by these well-publicized statements. The Mrican public also debated the whites' future. The opposition Transkei Democratic Party, which opposed separate development and independence, attacked Matanzima for "doing a political somersault on the question of citizenship for whites." It argued that whites who lived and worked in the homeland after independence should be entitled to citizenship without discrimination. A party spokesman asserted: "It is fundamental to the Transkei's development that whites should continue to live in the Transkei and, to give them security, they should be able to participate in the government of the state in which they have chosen to live. The Transkei should even embark on an immigration policy to bring whites into the Transkei to contribute to its economic and agricultural development." 9 In fact, Matanzima's ruling Transkei National Independence Party (TNIP) later altered its position. In 1975 it announced: "The whites will be welcome to stay and to own property in the Transkei as long as they become Transkei citizens. They may apply for citizenship and each case will be dealt with on its merits. A white who is a citizen is also welcome to stand for election to the Legislative Assembly. A white person could even become Prime Minister." 10 But in the same year it was Matanzima's remark that "whites should sell their land to us and rent it from us" that reverberated in the minds of whites as independence approached.11 The United Party MP for Grigualand East who took up the cause of Transkei whites was quoted as saying: The fact is two wrongs do not make a right and the sooner we get rid of race discrimination-white against black in South Africa and black Daily Dispatch, 12 February 1974. Daily Dispatch, 14 February 1974. 1o Daily Dispatch, 24 October 1975.

8

9

11 Just months before independence, Matanzima assured white residents and businessmen that they would be free to remain in Transkei afterward and carry on their normal activities: "Whites will not be pressurised by the government of the Transkei to leave the area precipitately." At the same time, there would be no compulsion for them to become Transkei citizens: "Old age pensioners who are Republican citizens but who live in the Transkei will continue to apply and receive their pensions and grants from the Republican government" (Daily Dispatch, 1 January 1976).

[54]

Portraits of Dominance against white in Transkei-the sooner we will get a stable society in South Africa .... The eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth attitude of the Transkei over the question of white land ownership in the Transkei is not politically sound .... I am as much against Mr. Matanzima not allowing whites in Transkei to own land as I am against Mr. Vorster not allowing blacks to own land in South Africa .... Since Chief Matanzima's statement, the position of those people who wish to have properties taken over has become more untenable than before and the government must bring them relief as soon as possible. 12

Hoping to relieve the uncertainty, the mayor of U mtata, on behalf of the entire white community, received assurances from Matanzima himself that there would be no pressure on whites living in Transkei to sell their properties. If they did sell, however, they would be allowed to sell only to the Transkeian government or to Transkei citizens, and only citizens ofTranskei-not whites-would be allowed to buy land. Matanzima also promised that his government had no intention of nationalizing the land. White property owners would remain the same as before, and residents would be allowed to keep their properties. 13 The 1980 Acquisition of Immovable Property Control Amendment Act, No. 8, eventually made this policy law. Margie had lived through that anxious period. When I asked her how whites were reacting to the changes in race relations, many of the norms, ideas, and myths of apartheid emerged in her answer, including the perception that life in South Mrica conformed to a natural order: Most of the people I know, black and white, are prejudiced. They were brought up that way and don't want to change .... I've never discussed black voting, black trade unions, and so on with other whites, so I can't say how they feel about these things. I know a lot do object to sharing the same hotels and other public places .... White parents would object to school desegregation. Black children have a lower standard. Age differences would affect the learning pace. Also, whites worry about sex and violence .... In general, whites object to intermarriage too, because the children will be Coloreds, who are not accepted by blacks or whites. The facilities are not oriented to them at all .... In Umtata, having a black neighbor is a delicate question. I've never discussed it with whites, always with blacks. Whites don't like to talk about that. So I don't talk with my friends about it. 12 13

Daily Dispatch, 30 October 1976. Daily Dispatch, 5 November 1976.

[55]

Dismantling Apartheid

The outsider immediately notices the culturally promoted ideas and values in these remarks. But as her other attitudes and behavior demonstrated, Margie was not a bigoted person. Unlike most whites in Umtata, she expressed many liberal views. Underscoring the complexity and even contradictory character of white South Mrican culture, she argued, for instance, that "many blacks are a lot more civilized [than whites] now, and it won't take the younger generation long, assuming they get the same schooling and other opportunities . . . . Blacks do have legitimate grievances. They were treated as underdogs for years. They had no say in anything."I 4 I asked Margie what it meant to her to be white. She replied, "I can't say whether being white has made a difference in my life. I never thought about having a white skin. I'm not ashamed of it. I don't know what it's like to be another color. I do sympathize with the coloredwith any minority that is downtrodden." She professed no interest in politics. "I know nothing of Buthelezi and the ANC .... Mandela was good to start with, but he got a bit radical. ... Biko? From what I read, he was a good person." 15 Demonstrating people's ability to select their values and points of view, Margie declared, "It's everybody's right to vote. One man, one vote is a very good thing .... A race war is possible in South Africa. I won't be involved, though. I'm not in South Mrica. I feel safe here." Is South Africa a racist society? I asked. "Absolutely," was her response.

Martin Expressing the sentiments of many settlers, Martin proudly explained that his children were fourth-generation and his grandchildren fifth-generation Transkeians. "The July gazette says any person may apply for citizenship. Many whites will take out citizenship. One of my main gripes is someone coming out here from England, for example, creaming it off, and hanging on to their British passport. You must chuck your lot in with that country. This sentiment alone will make me take out citizenship.... It is my birthright." was this white awareness of mistreatment of blacks that led to fear of reprisals. Nelson Mandela. leader of the banned African National Congress, was at this time imprisoned on Robben Island. Mangosuthu Buthelezi was the leader of the KwaZulu homeland who refused to accept independence until Mandela was released. Steve Biko was the leader of the Black Consciousness movement, which stressed black pride. He died in police custody in 1977. 14 lt 15

[56]

Portraits of Dominance

Martin most embodied many of the paradoxes of white South Africa. As a recruiter of African labor for the mines and white farms, he had a very comfortable life-style due to his active role in the exploitation of African labor. The socialization process was so effective that he accepted the social roles, values, norms, and relationships of apartheid without question and without guilt. The culture defined a "natural order" that he embraced unquestionably and had lived for half a century. Yet he identified very strongly with Africans, seeing his activities as congruent with their interests. As was his style, on our first meeting, he took me for a drink at the "black" Transkei Hotel, where he was well known and where he spoke Xhosa with a number of the patrons. Most whites in Umtata do not frequent this hotel, which was built in an area zoned for Mricans, but Martin wanted to show that he was at home there. Martin had ten years of formal schooling and was earning a high income from recruiting Mricans to work in the mines. Divorced, remarried, and divorced again, he had five children. He spoke Xhosa fluently and considered himself Transkeian. He had applied for and was granted Transkiean citizenship. Martin's family had come to Transkei in 1868 as explorers and traders. "Cultural memory" has glorified the process by which the settlers positioned themselves to dominate Mricans, selectively emphasizing certain parts of the reality and ignoring others. Martin explained: Trading stations were the first growth points of civilization except there were also the mission stations of the London Missionary Society. They had to be at least five miles apart. There were 657 original white-owned trading stations. There was a law to limit the number. The same sites exist today. The trader was motivated by profit and a way of life. Often he came from overseas and wanted to get on his own. In fact, few earned much more than subsistence. They didn't have 500 pounds in the bank. The barter system existed when they came. Since there was no currency, every trader had his own currency-usually 1 penny and 2 penny. This currency was eventually outlawed, about the time that the mines opened and money started to come in. The typical trader took his ox wagon to East London or Kingwilliamstown to buy goods. He would take skins, hides, wool, and so on, from the local people-similar to your trappers .... Relations were good. I can't recall hearing of a trader being killed or looted. In fact, if trouble between African groups was brewing, the trader would be warned to leave and take cover. He left his women and children, however, because they were exempt in such hostilities. When blacks planted a crop, the trader would buy their wheat, sor[57]

Dismantling Apartheid ghum, corn ... because they couldn't store it. He would store it in his granary and then sell it back later as they needed it. Blacks did have granaries before, pits in the ground, but water would get in during heavy rains and spoil much of the crop. Pit mealies thus developed a bad name. Hence everyone preferred to sell to the trader. Later on, the trader was the one with the hammermills to make mealie meal. He was the post office. He often had a butcher's license. The trading stations constituted a network. In effect, the traders were the administrators. They were the doctor, the councillor, the friend, though there was no official recognition of this role. Nevertheless, they played a crucial role. They assisted the local magistrates, who were the official government agents. For instance, all memos were sent to the chiefs and the traders. And they were extremely civic minded. They helped in disputes, took people miles to hospital, and so on. Much of their profit was eaten up in this gratis fashion. 16 When the homelands policy came out, there was voluntary selling because the government paid a "compensatory price"-that is, better than market price. Also, people were uncertain of the future. Some were old and were in ill health. So they sold for those reasons. Ninety percent would like to be back. There is a stable government, healthy economy, and they miss their way of life. Also they find they don't fit in the white community. Most are in East London (Gonubie). Some are in Embangeni (Natal) or along the south coast. They often have Transkei nights where they eat Transkei food, sing Xhosa songs, and many normally speak Xhosa to each other. Don't forget these people were born playing with Xhosa, grew up with them; They were the only people around. Prior to 1930, many of these whites went to black schools. Mter that, they were sent off to boarding schools. They went to tribal functions, and so on. We speak Xhosa better than black people . . . . I can express myself better in Xhosa than in English. Often we speak to each other in Xhosa. Whites come up and say, "What are you kaffirs talking about?" We say, "Sorry, we weren't talking about you. We didn't mean to be offensive. We didn't realize we were speaking Xhosa." Being born and bred here, I never saw them as blacks. I don't have to be accepted. I just have to open my mouth. Then the blacks say, "This bugger was born here." But I need them more than they need me. I couldn't live anywhere else.

Life for Martin, he told me, was "very good" under independence. 16 Indicating that Mricans had potential leverage on the traders (which no doubt accounts in large measure for the good relations), Monica Hunter (1961: 429) describes a three-month boycott of a trader in Pondoland.

[58]

Portraits of Dominance Everything I want is attainable. . . . Race relations are better. The Masters and Servants Act has been abolished, there is integration in most sports, we are doing away with many sections of job reservation, and there are higher wages for blacks. . . . You are now allowed to have communication between the races, and that leads to understanding. Understanding leads to acceptance . . . . There seems to be a feeling, motivated perhaps by nonrecognition, among other reasons, that we have got to make a go of it. There are better race relations here than in South Africa. The feeling that blacks would make it hard for whites proved groundless. Whites here have a good future-more rosy than England, as rosy as under a white government. There are no disadvantages to being under a black government. There is no legislation to restrict whites. They can continue with the business they're in, though they can't acquire new property. However, there is a normal annual increase of 10 to 15 percent anyway, which is sufficient. Relations between the groups, even in Umtata, are exemplary-better now than pre-independence. There seems to be a feeling "we're all in this together. Let's show the world that we can do it-we will do it." There is determination to make things successful, even among seconded people. There are no disadvantages to citizenship, only advantages. If you are a non-Transkeian, you can't ask for land on the Wild Coast. One has to go through the headman to get land. I will be able to say, 'T m one of you, not a foreigner."

Martin's attitudes seemed to be adjusting to accommodate new realities. For 51 percent of blacks, it will be many years still before they reach the same level of civilization as that of the white man. For 49 percent, no .... Not only is the repeal of the Immorality Act acceptable, it is necessary! ... In granting permission for certain blacks to move into white residential areas, the emphasis is on certain. You wouldn't want tribal people to move in. It would lead to deterioration of property, standards, and so on .... Wages should be higher for non-whites on merit. This is a multiracial society. The emphasis is on merit.

Given the degree to which ascribed privilege had accounted for Martin's successful situation, it is noteworthy that he now espoused the virtues of merit. More and more South African whites are associating the ending of discrimination against Africans, on the one hand, with using the standards of multiracialism and merit, on the other. As racial [59]

Dismantling Apartheid

discrimination becomes a less acceptable justification for white privilege, "merit" and "know-how" become the new way of justifying that privilege. In fact, Martin may have adopted a range of new racial norms. He had been a member and executive officer of the Transkei Territories Civic Association (TTCA), which stridently opposed change and unabashedly fought to retain the structures of grand apartheid. Into the 1970s, it was at odds with the Xhosa Development Corporation (XDC), the government-controlled parastatal that was transferring white-owned businesses to Africans. Maintaining that the XDC was moving into the business field without proper regard for the private sector, the TTCA asked for a commission to inquire into the functions of the XDC-especially its relationship to the private sector and the extent to which its activities ran counter to those of private enterprise (Race Relations Survey, 1972: 196). As an officer of the TTCA, Martin must have done all in his power to preserve the apartheid structures and to impede change in white hegemony. Having had change imposed, however, he appeared to have pragmatically adopted new values-a textbook case of using previously unacceptable norms to promote one's interest. Martin even sought legitimacy and protection for his material advantages by becoming a Transkei citizen. In the early 1980s, in fact, he started a major business, financed on a generous basis by public funds set aside for Transkei citizens. Like many other whites, Martin refused to acquire certain information and retained culturally sanctioned views on some issues. Regarding politics, he "did not know" anything about Nelson Mandela, Steve Biko, or the ANC and did not like Chief Buthelezi. Kaiser Matanzima was the Mrican he most admired. On the other hand, although "I have never thought about having a white skin ... I think being white has made a difference-it's given me more business opportunities." Then Martin expressed his opinion that one man, one vote in South Africa "would not work at this moment in time."

john John owned a retail, wholesale, and contracting business. He was forty-seven years old, was born in Durban but had lived in U mtata since he was several months old, when his father, an electrical technician, had moved to Umtata for employment reasons. John's wife was [60]

Portraits of Dominance

born in Transkei, as were their three children. He had a tenth grade education.l 7 John's business was doing well when we spoke. Separate development had provided a tremendous stimulus to Umtata's economy. Outside capital, mainly for prestige projects, arrived in unprecedented amounts as South Mrica tried to fabricate independence for Transkei. Furthermore, in six years, the homeland budget itself had increased more than eightfold. 18 Much of the increase found its way into Umtata's economy in the form of new construction, and new construction meant business for John's firm. John resisted Pretoria's pressure to sell and leave Umtata. "I've owned my home for about fifteen years. I also own commercial and leisure property [on the coast]. ... I am planning to stay permanently in Umtata, but I'm undecided about citizenship. It depends on whether we get recognition. If I were to leave, I would go to northern New Zealand." John liked his life-style in Umtata. A principal attraction was the Wild Coast, one of the most spectacular parts of South Mrica's coastline, where he and his family had a cottage that they enjoyed regularly. As whites were not permitted to own land on the Wild Coast, like others, he had a ninety-nine-year lease. John's uncertainty about his standard of living and his future opportunities in U mtata illustrates how the culture presents white South Mricans with consistent and coherent images, complete with mythological justifications. Moreover, his response shows how acting on the basis of this world view has the effect of making it seem like reality. Like Martin, John was concerned about the citizenship issue. He did not want to sacrifice his business, property, and the satisfying way of life by leaving Umtata, but to him, taking out Transkei citizenship meant living under an African government, having a citizenship that is not recognized internationally, losing his claim on the South Mrican government for compensation, and giving up the protection that South African citizenship bestows. 17 The South African schools offer a twelve-year program, six at the primary level and six at the secondary level. The curriculum allows for exit after ten years with a junior certificate (Standard 8) and after twelve years with a matriculation certificate ("matric""). 18 Transkei's budget increased from R38 million in 1972-73 to R328 million in 197879 (Mayoral Minute, 1978-79, p. 45).

[61]

Dismantling Apartheid

At the time we spoke, the Transkei government did not yet have a definite policy regarding white citizenship. 19 The issue came to a head just before independence. A newspaper reported that six white families, including that of a well-known supporter of the governing National Party, were going to apply for citizenship as soon as it was possible to do so. The NP supporter, a businessman in Cofimvaba who had lived most of his life in Transkei, was quoted as saying: "We can set an example here .... These people just want to be treated as human beings. For example, they want to have title deeds to property.... We are not worried about M. C. Botha's threats to whites who take out Transkei citizenship.... I have full confidence in the black government and I am fully prepared to live under a black government." 20 Kaiser Matanzima responded to the report by publicly doubting the man's sincerity. He observed that the proposed applicant was a member of the Transkei White Citizens Association, had petitioned the House of Assembly in Cape Town on behalf of the whites, and had appeared to be against Transkei independence. Matanzima still refused to articulate a policy regarding white citizenship. What is significant, of course, is that Transkei citizenship is completely mythical; except in the culture of apartheid, it has no meaning. Nevertheless, by acting on the myths, people reinforce and impute reality to the world view as a whole. To John and other participants in the culture, the myths are real. 21 Although he was not certain about citizenship, John definitely wanted to remain in Umtata. "Umtata is much better since independence. General business has improved, except for this past year. Also, the staff is more responsive. They have the feeling of being part of something. They are full of bounce now, not as surly as they were in the past. There is more cooperation. People in government are more 19 The Africans undoubtedly felt themselves in an awkward situation. At this stage, they were still hoping for international recognition, which meant they had to adopt a nonracial policy. Most probably they subscribed to a nonracial ideology in any case. But Pretoria, which controlled the pursestrings, was against white citizenship in the homelands. Moreover, domestic politics required the opening of opportunities to Africans as a means of compensating for decades of discrimination. 2o Daily Dispatch, 13 September 1976. 21 In the end, some whites did take out Transkeian citizenship. The first were a Mount Frere couple, Mr. and Mrs. Eayrs, in 1978. Both had been born in Transkei and both were children of trading families which were continuing to operate successful businesses (Rand Daily Mail, 19 January 1978).

[62]

Portraits of Dominance

responsive. They talk as equals. Not all, of course. There is that group who know they have the stick now, and they let you know." His active membership in the Roundtable (a service club that raised money for community projects) the Umtata Club, and the Umtata County Club occupied much ofJohn's leisure time: "Most of our friends are here .... For the person coming [to Umtata] temporarily, things are good. There is lots to do and there are only a few qualified people. The problem with staying permanently is that one cannot acquire fixed property. Also, you don't know whether you can become part of the country or not .... Then there is the question of whether one will be an equal citizen." John was keenly aware of racial boundaries, and his sense of self led him to maintain social distance between himself and Mricans. "I don't associate with people who are not on my social level. I employ about forty laborers. I wouldn't sit at the table with them because they are not on my social level. It has nothing to do with color.... Racism is one group not liking what the other is doing and vice versa. That word should be cut out altogether and worked out on a social level. As whites here, everything we do is classed as racism. I don't think it's racism. Its purely a social level ofliving." 22 At the same time, however, John liked the new racial climate. "Whites in Transkei are lucky to be able to experience multiracialism .... I have a Christmas party every year for ... clients and business relations [that] I have done business with during the past year. I've worked for them or they've worked for me. Last year there was one Colored and one black person among the guests. I was anxious to see how everyone would react, but there were no problems." Commenting on my survey of white attitudes, John observed: Many respondents will not be honest. There is a difference between the ideal and the practice. A person will say they wouldn't mind sitting at the table with a black man, but you let a black man show up at his home. 23 I think U mtata whites are about fifty-fifty in objecting to sharing public 22 John's sentiments are like those of Om Max in Waiting: "You wouldn't invite your maid to dinner. You wouldn't be comfortable, and she wouldn't be comfortable. You have separate lives. This is all apartheid means" (Crapanzano, 1985: 56). 23 To some extent, John's point is supported by inconsistencies in Emil's and Anna's responses (below). Emil, for instance, said they had visited blacks once and had had black visitors two to five times. Anna, on the other hand, said they had never visited blacks and that blacks had visited them only once.

[63]

Dismantling Apartheid facilities with blacks. Personally, I go to public bars less. The type of guy you're getting in a bar is not acceptable to my way of living .... Most whites in U mtata probably would agree to having trade unions, but I object. They only protect the incompetent, black and white. If a person has what it takes, he can make it on his own .... Mixed education? There is a hell of a debate going on about that. Whites think they will be overwhelmed, that they will go into the total minority. Then the blackwhite issue comes in at a social level, not an educational one.

Showing the degree to which the apartheid world view and its attendant myths are inculcated in many South Mricans, John continued: Most people I know are unprejudiced .... We talk about blacks and race problems pretty regularly, not on a political side but on an economic side .... I can't remember my first contact with blacks. I've always had contact. The guys you played with, fished with, race never came into it. We were just schoolboys knocking around together. . . . In the last two years, race progress has been dramatic. Look at sport today. If you had told me five years ago that this turn of events would happen, I would have called you a bloody liar. But it has happened. Then look at this ninetynine-year lease. If this government gave me the same rights I'd be happy.... Do blacks have legitimate grievances? Transkeians can't have any problems at this point in time. However, they have a lot to bitch about in South Africa. I never thought about having a white skin. I'm proud of what I am. I don't know that it has made a difference in my life. It's related to where you are. Opportunities in South Africa are not as great for blacks. In Transkei, the reverse applies.

Regarding the future, John said, "I am against one man, one vote in South Mrica. I don't believe the majority of blacks are ready for it."

foe Joe was a forty-seven-year-old seconded official, born in Queenstown, who had come to Umtata in 1974 with his wife and three children. Joe had had completed tenth grade and was working as an administrative officer and adviser to the Transkei government. Many white South Mricans come from poor backgrounds. Systematic discrimination against Mricans has allowed most of them to escape poverty, but the specter of being poor again still seems to motivate much of their behavior. Joe was one such person. [64]

Portraits of Dominance

I come from a poor family. My father was rejected as a child. He used to eat from dust bins and was forced to work at the early age of nine. He had almost no education. He had to buy a wooden crate for nine pence to stand on in order to reach the machinery in his first job. I spent my early days in a Colored neighborhood, we were so poor. I think I am mechanically inclined and should have been an engineer rather than a paper pusher. In fact, in my younger days I was a hot rod freak. I fancied being a racing driver, and was about to purchase a racing car, but my fiance said "choose-me or racing."

Being in U mtata was an adventure for Joe and his family. Umtata's great ... not like a city, although it's becoming one. I've got plenty to do in both the work and social spheres. There is great camaraderie among the people. Also it is close to the sea and close to big cities like East London and Durban. The big problem is the unavailability of goods. Going out is not our way of life in South Africa. We entertain in the home. Then in Umtata, TV has further curbed people's going out. We go to the cinema once in three months, to restaurants once in three months, and never to the swimming baths or library. The swimming bath is mostly for kids, and there is one at school. Every second day, however, I do go [to a pub] for a drink.

Although he was a South African civil servant seconded to Transkei, Joe reported: Most of our friends are in Umtata. I'm fairly optimistic about whites' future here, provided they can take advantage of the opportunities. I don't own property and don't plan to stay. However, most whites like it here. That's why many want to stay permanently. Many want to become citizens because they want the benefits, such as owning property. Also, its exciting here. This is a developing country. One is part of that. Personally, I'm not prepared to relinquish South African citizenship, but I would like to take advantage of opportunities here. If I could, I would sell my property in South Africa and buy a place on the coast here-perhaps buy three homes here.

Joe was active in U mtata social affairs, a member of the Dramatic Society, the Bowling Club, the Umtata Film Club, the Amateur Radio League, and the PTA. He was a well-meaning human being who saw himself as "decent" in his relations with Africans. He liked interracial [65]

Dismantling Apartheid

contact because of this self-image, but he also enjoyed the ascribed status of being white and of being an adviser to a black government. The notable point is that despite his genuine decentness, extensive contact with Africans had only marginal impact on his world view. He subscribed wholeheartedly to most of the myths and images of white South Africa's culture. Joe felt that race relations were "just fine" in U mtata. "Whites are more and more accepting blacks into their community circle. Blacks are beginning to accept whites more as friends than as the bosses they used to regard them as . . . . Last weekend I was in six different multiracial groups. After bowling, I had a drink with black members of the bowling club. Transkei has a different environment." Much of Joe's perception of race relations in U mtata came from his experience in the Dramatic Society, an entirely amateur group that usually produced two shows each year, the income going to charity. Before 1976, membership was limited to whites; permission had to be obtained from Pretoria even to perform before mixed audiences, Joe recalled. In July 1976 we put on Showboat, which we tried to cast 'according to race.' We were successful to some extent, but many blacks and Coloreds haven't had experience-they didn't put in time for rehearsals and so on. Also the white community has been changing rapidly. Many people are leaving, many are coming in .... But the show was held in Town Hall, with a black and a Colored appearing in leading roles. It was a sellout. We packed the house. We even did a special show for America Week at the Holiday Inn.

Newspaper accounts confirmed Joe's assessment and quoted another participant as saying, "It was a new experience to work with people of all groups represented in Transkei, and I think everybody enjoyed the way we all mixed together in complete harmony." 24 The experience inspired Joe. South Africa is moving away from segregation-petty apartheid is being done away with. Rapidly here, slowly in South Africa. Here, if a con24 In 1978 the society produced Carousel, with a cast of fifty, starring a local Colored woman (Daily Dispatch, 27 December, 1978). Such "harmonious" interaction is common throughout South Africa. In domestic situations, for instance, both the white housewife and African servant often derive "a good deal in terms of emotional satisfaction from their relationship" (Preston-Whyte, 1976: 77).

[66]

Portraits of Dominance

struction boss has a roof-raising party and it starts to rain, he may invite the foreman and workmen to his home to finish the celebration. He wouldn't do that in South Africa. Probably in his own heart he would quite like to do it, but it would be frowned upon. On a recent holiday, I revisited a former workplace in the Transvaal. While [I was] chatting with the boss and white colleagues, tea was served. The tea boy was the same one who was there ten years ago when I left. I jumped to my feet and shook the black's hand and said how are you, and so on. The black was obviously happy to see me but he responded by bowing up and down and saying, "Thank you boss, thank you, boss." The whites were astonished, but that's the way I am. When I left, ten years ago, I went down to the basement to the boys who were loading trucks and shook their hands and said goodbye. Most people don't do that kind of thing.

At the same time, Joe had a strong sense ofhis "white" identity and did not want racial boundaries transgressed. 25 I asked why whites maintain the chasm between themselves and Mricans, despite the fact that they have known Mricans all their lives. He simply said, "The two groups have different cultures and different habits." The idea that races possess inherently irreconcilable cultures is a core assumption of apartheid (see, e. g., Thompson, 1985). To rationalize dominance, "culture" was made synonymous with "civilisation" and linked to "race." Typically, a leading authority on "natives," R. F. A. Hoernle, concluded: "In short, the basis of culture is biological: it varies with the innate qualities ofhuman stocks. Culture is a function of race" (quoted in Dubow, 1987: 84). Later, one of the foremost architects of apartheid, Werner Eiselen, "emphasized the need to recognise and encourage 'Bantu culture' in order to promote a policy of differentiation. 'The duty of the native,' he explained, was 'not to become a black European, but to become a better native, with ideals and a culture of his own'" (Dubow, 1987: 86). Though he was unaware of it, these were the origins of Joe's ideas. He hesitantly continued: Mixed education is a delicate issue. There are cultural differences. For instance, black children eat porridge with their fingers. You don't want your child doing that in a restaurant in Jo'burg. It would be embarrassing. More fundamentally, though, children don't see color and can't evaluate things for themselves. We have to protect them, the way we were 2.5 His first contact with Africans occurred when he was two years old, with an African washwoman who came to his house once a week.

[67]

Dismantling Apartheid

protected. In other words, we want them to grow up with our valuesespecially as regards race relations. If they go to school with blacks and play with blacks here, when we get home they will want to know why they can't play with blacks there .... Intermarriage is unnatural. Like lions and tigers mating. Though we are the same underneath-same blood, and so on-there must be differences in our genes. The incident involving Eve and the apple in the garden of Eden demonstrates that the law must prevent intermarriage because of the attraction of "forbidden fruit." ... Regarding higher wages for blacks, I think there should be equal pay for equal work. ... There is no such thing as an independent homeland. Either it is a homeland or an independent state. I favor the policy of spinning off homelands and then all of southern Africa, including Angola and Mozambique, coming together in a united states of southern Africa. I'm reminded of the EEC, except I think there should be a common government, like in the United States, not separate governments . . . . I'm uncertain about who must make final decisions about political matters .... Of course, history won't allow final decisions on political matters to always remain in the hands of whites. Joe and five other whites had been brought to Umtata to set up a department in the Transkei government and to train Mricans. He had internalized all of the values, roles, and relationships inherent in the philosophy of separate development. It even appeared that the separate development context permitted his subscription to new, situationally specific norms as regards race relations. Behavior that would otherwise challenge dominant-subordinate relations did not do so in this situation: "Working for blacks is taboo in South Africa, but not here. Either one accepts the situation or he buggers off.... I now have a black counterpart who comes to me for everything. Above us, there is a higher rank, but the white counterpart has gone, so the black is my boss. Above this fellow, there is the head of the unit and his white counterpart." When Joe described the actual relationships in his department, it was difficult to know whether his patronizing attitude toward Mricans and assumption of greater competence among whites were accurate characterizations or whether he was viewing the situation through the lens of his cultural upbringing. The deputy secretary of another department came personally to me to request something urgently. I was in favor of granting the request. I [68]

Portraits of Dominance

talked to my counterpart, who was reluctant to raise the issue with the next in command, correctly anticipating the objections. He asked me to make the presentation. I said, "No, you make it. I'll be there to answer any questions and so on." The meeting was held-me, my counterpart, the boss, and the white adviser to the boss's boss. I did not address the white adviser directly upon entering the room but simply said, "Good morning, gentlemen." The presentation was made to the boss-briefly in written form and elaborated verbally. The boss hemmed and hawed and finally suggested that I and my counterpart prepare a memo fully outlining the background, the issues, and our recommendation. I walked over to the window and looked out. The white adviser could see I was bristling. So the adviser, having been silent until this point, suggested that he broach the subject verbally and informally with the boss's boss to try to get a quick decision. I couldn't say to the boss that his was a bloody silly idea because we didn't have time for all this paper work. The matter pertained to the independence celebrations and thus had to be decided immediately. Fortunately, the white adviser was there to intervene and save the day.

Joe said he had not changed his racial views since coming to Umtata. Speculating on the many whites there who had, he remarked, The people who have changed in a more liberal direction think "They are not as bad as I thought. I didn't realize that there were different levels of blacks." Those who have changed in a more conservative direction were previously inexperienced but now have been in close contact with blacks. They have learned that one cannot expect the same production, honesty, faithfulness, and reliability from them. Thus they have been hardened. They are impatient. They didn't realize the truth in the statement that it will be a long while before blacks reach the level of civilization of the white man.

Like many other white South Africans, Joe's ideas about race were inconsistent. He said he thought "all the time" about blacks governing South Africa but refused to comment on the "delicate issue" of one man, one vote. Do Africans have legitimate grievances? "They shouldn't have . . . . They've been treated well," he responded. Yet when I asked, "Is South Africa racist?" Joe asserted, "Regrettably, I must say yes." But hinting that even beyond South Africa white dominance is regarded as the natural order, he found security in the fact that there could not be a race war in South Africa because "it would never be allowed by the rest of the world." [69]

Dismantling Apartheid

Finally, on being white, Joe added curiously, "We're all born the same. Bias has been forced on us by our upbringing. A child doesn't know the color ofhis skin." In his mind, however, this view had not led to the acceptance of an egalitarian social philosophy. Why not? Were his recollections of poverty so strong that only a system of racial privilege provided him a sense of security? Or was it that the culture infused in him a world view in which white dominance was the natural order? I inquired whether being white had made a difference in his life. Joe replied confidently, "It would not have made any difference. I would have sorted the problems out."

Emil and Anna Emil and Anna were a young Mrikaans couple who had come to Umtata to improve their economic and social position. I interviewed them separately. Emil, thirty years old, came from a poor family. He was the first of four children. His father, like many Afrikaners of his generation, eked out a living from South African Railways wages. The children wore handed-down clothes, Emil recalled, and he and his father "cried" because the family could not afford for Emil to attend the university. He completed secondary school but would have required a full scholarship to realize his dream of being a doctor. "I'm very conscious therefore of not wanting my children to be poor. I've given up on going back to school, and will make it in my present profession." Emil now aspires to be a managing director in the agency that employs him. Anna, a twenty-seven-year-old housewife with two children, also completed secondary school. Our interview was somewhat constrained because she lacked confidence in speaking English. She normally conversed in Mrikaans. The family had come to U mtata two years previously, having responded to an advertisement for a manager of a small business. "This was my first opportunity to control an organization," Emil volunteered candidly. "I could not have gotten such a position with such financial benefits in South Africa. I was working for South Mrican Railways but quit that to come to Umtata." Emil and Anna were among the newcomers who were altering the character of white U mtata. In just over ten years, the town had changed from a quiet, English-speaking white community with roots in Transkei to a homeland "growth point," invaded by large numbers of seconded and contract staff. A high percent[70]

Portraits of Dominance

age of the new arrivals were Mrikaners. The white population in Umtata is said to have increased by nearly 1,000 between 1970 and 1976, to a total of 4,000. While interviewing Emil and Anna, I recalled the remarks of one long-time resident in another interview: "In 1963, there were only five government departments. There were seconded civil servants for these. Now, not only are there more departments, but the TDC has also increased the numbers of whites. This group is non-propertyowning. They are not concerned with the long-term future of Transkei. ... Older civil servants and administrative personnel should have made it by now; therefore, Transkei is the post for the beginners and the incompetents." Another person interviewed put it this way: "The seconded whites are a different type of people to what we are ... and they are now the people coming to U mtata.... There is a very high turnover. . . . Because of the age factor, there is little social contact between the old Transkeians and the new ones." Emil and Anna enjoy Umtata's quiet life-style. They employ an African gardener and a nanny. Once a week or so they entertain in their home and visit friends' homes about as often. Card games, television, and cookouts are the main activities. Both said they were very religious; several times a week they attend the Dutch Reformed Church, where Emil is a deacon. "Being a Christian, the Lord made it clear to me to come here," said Emil. He is also a member of the U mtata Country Club and Rapportryers, an "Mrikaans culture" organization that some English whites derisively refer to as the "junior Broederbond."26 The couple support the National Party. They did not vote in the 1977 municipal elections. Like Margie, Anna explained the logic of apartheid: "We are not eligible to vote in Umtata ... only blacks should vote, it's their town." When I asked about the whites who were born and raised in U mtata, Anna conceded, "They should vote too," but still insisted, "not people like me who are only here temporarily." Naturally, Anna and Emil had internalized most of the dogma of white South Mrican culture. Nevertheless, in Umtata they were exposed to new forms of race relations. In fact, they said they were 26 Literally "Afrikaner Brotherhood," the broederband is a highly influential but exclusively Afrikaner secret society formed in 1918. It did a great deal to secure and maintain Afrikaner control in important areas of government, culture, finance, and industry.

[71]

Dismantling Apartheid

impressed with race relations in U mtata and enjoyed the relative lack of racial tension. "There has definitely been an improvement in race relations recently," said Anna. "One goes to cocktail parties and people just mix." Emil agrees. In telling me about his experiences, he revealed the fear of Mricans which whites are taught to have. In praising race relations in U mtata, he and others were expressing feelings of relief. Not only did their fears of African hostility toward whites not materialize, but tension seemed actually to decrease because the more visible symbols of white dominance-such as segregated facilitieshad largely disappeared. Emil reported, Race relations in Umtata are excellent. In my dealings, either at work or outside, I haven't found any instance or any situation where there has been any discrimination against either one race or the other because of color.... For example, my wife and I were in [the] BV supermarket, standing in line behind a black gentleman with an arm full of small packets of crisps [potato chips]. One fell to the floor, but he couldn't bend down to pick it up without the others falling. My child picked it up. Mter paying, the black man turned to my child and said, "That's for you," and handed her the crisps. Then there was the time when I was going into Nelson's bottle store and was not paying attention to what I was doing. My mind was elsewhere. I walked right into this black man who was coming out. I thought, oh, I wonder what he is going to do. He said to me, "You're not paying attention to what you're doing," and smiled. The last discussion I had on race matters was two weeks ago with a friend who supervises construction work at the university site. He said relations were good. He was impressed with the blacks' ability to adjust. They didn't mind being taught. They didn't take offense at being corrected. Ninety-five percent were laborers who had not worked in construction before, so he was surprised.

U mtata race relations were good, as far as whites were concerned, in large part because few of the actual African-white roles had changed, and the tension had subsided. "Fairly optimistic" was Emil's response when asked to assess the future for whites in U mtata. "Quite a good future, in fact. There are good race relations so there won't be any discrimination against white or black. . . . Umtata is a very good opportunity to know the black man intimately-his life, his way of thinking. This will benefit many whites when they go home." Emil had what he called a "fair amount" of Mrican friends. His first contact with Mricans had been in the freight department of South Mrican Railways. [72]

Portraits of Dominance

"There were half blacks and half whites. It was a working relationship. I got on very well with them .... I liked them." Anna had no African friends; her first contact with Africans had been in Transkei, she said. "This is the first time my husband has worked with blacks. I've been with them at cocktail parties. At first, I was quiet and didn't want to mix." Yet my questioning revealed that Anna had had several African nannies, the last one stereotypically called Evelyna. (Not being able to pronounce many African names, whites often give servants an English name.) "We were living in Bloemfontein. Evelyna got ill and left. In fact, she was pregnant, but she was forty-five years old and got ill. She is still ill. We still correspond." Anna clearly did not regard the relationship with her nannies as "contact with Africans." Though she claimed to be still in correspondence with Evelyna, she regarded "mixing" in Umtata as her first contact with Africans. Did she understand the question to mean first social contact with Africans, or first equal-status contact? Perhaps Anna expunged Evelyna's Africanness from her consciousness in order to protect their relationship, or the racial images that support white dominance, or both. Many whites experience a dissonance between their affection for an African nanny and the demands of the culture of white dominance, as Crapanzano (1985: 41) dramatically illustrates. Clearly, for Anna, loving Evelyna had nothing at all to do with "mixing" with Africans. Her behavior supports Crapanzano's statement that, psycho-ontologically, many white South Africans cannot view Africans as" significant others," even though they participate in meaningful relationships with them (1985: 39). An additional explanation, perhaps, would dwell on people's ability to resolve the inconsistencies of life by constructing various levels of social action. By defining situations and contexts differently, one can rationally maintain conflicting norms and contradictory behavior. Preston-Whyte (1976) emphasizes this point in explaining the complex relations between whites and their African servants in Durban. Anna's differentiation demonstrates how culture in South Africa instills a world view that protects the logic of dominance. 27 Having levels of social action helps reduce the enormous cognitive dissonance. Desegregation of Umtata's public places had little impact on Anna 27 One is reminded of Athol Fugard's play Master Harold and the Boys (1984), in which a white teenager eventually turns on two Mricans who had been his lifelong friends and surrogate family. (I am grateful to Clifton Crais for calling this similarity to my attention.)

[73]

Dismantling Apartheid

and her husband: "I don't go to those places anyway." The couple "never" frequented the cinema, swimming pools, library, or bars, she said, but once a month they did go to a restaurant. Linking her racial attitudes to the separate development context, Anna explained: "In Transkei I agree that a black police officer should be allowed to arrest a white person. There are no white police .... Most whites don't object to sharing hotels, and so on, but that's just in Transkei. Bloemfontein is a white town." Will people who get used to it in Umtata object when they return home? I inquired. Anna replied: "People will not find it difficult to carry on in the same fashion at home. I was in Port Elizabeth at a bus stop with my daughter, standing next to a black lady. She was unaware of anything, but a white lady stared. Then, my daughter offered the black lady a sweet, and the white lady was astounded." Like my other informants, Anna and Emil were asked to assess the general racial views of whites in U mtata. Regarding Africans with equal qualifications holding jobs equal to or higher than whites, both felt that Umtata whites supported this idea. "Qualifications are important," Emil added. "Most whites are here on a temporary basis, here for a specific duty-to bring knowledge to the blacks who will then take , over. Both Emil and Anna thought that U mtata whites objected to racial intermarriage and school desegregation. Their reasoning was textbook apartheid: "Every nationality attaches value and importance to its own cultural heritage. If there was intermarriage, one culture would have to adopt the other. The question is, Who would have to adapt? ... Whites are concerned that the standard of education might drop. Many send their children to school in South Mrica. If there was proof that the standards have not dropped, they would accept mixed schools."28 At the time of the interviews, 88 percent of white South Mricans believed that it would still be many years before blacks reached the same level of civilization as whites. Emil and Anna agreed, 29 though Anna did note, "I think some of them would, but not all of them." She continued, 28 Apartheid ideology portrays South Africa as a country with various nationalities. There are the Afrikaners, the English, the Indians, the Coloreds, and the African groups: Xhosa, Zulu, Tswana, Sotho, etc. The ideology says one must have separate development in order to protect the identity and integrity of each group. Without separate development, one group would dominate, destroying the others' distinctive cultures. 29 See the chapter "Ideological Dominance."

[74]

Portraits of Dominance

I feel good to be white, I don't think about it I'm glad I'm white when I see how blacks are being treated .... The last conversation I had about the race problem was a month ago. It was with a chap who said "never ever" would he let his children go to school with blacks. Most whites in Umtata would object to integrated schools. They may think they are better than blacks .... Nevertheless, the prospects here are good for temporary whites. I can't see any disadvantages for permanent whites, except maybe the white [Afrikaans] school may close down. 30 The problem of not owning property is the disadvantage for temporary whites.

Emil said his racial views had changed in a liberal direction since being in Umtata. His co-workers, however, both African and white, regarded him as a bigot. The most senior African employee at his office resigned, I was told, because he could not get along with Emil. Referring to this employee in the context of "African reliability," Emil confided, "I was very disappointed in him. I wanted so much to train him and give him opportunities, but he did not want to accept the responsibility." Being of Afrikaans background, Emil was undoubtedly the victim of negative stereotyping by English-speaking whites as well as Africans. Both groups claim that race relations were fine until the Afrikaners introduced apartheid. In addition, they argue that race relations have continued to decline as more Afrikaners entered U mtata among the seconded or contract personnel. "There was no friction before 1963," declared an African informant. "The black elite-Guzana, Luswazi, and so on-mixed freely on a social basis with the white elite. They used to play golf at the country club, hold functions at Town Hall .... But the good neighborliness couldn't continue because of the new laws of the country. The whites who were born and raised here and who had mixed with us became shy when the seconded officials arrived to implement apartheid. They would say, "I would invite you, but my neighbor is an Afrikaner and he will report me." Of course, some used the new laws as a scapegoat. But many Transkei whites weren't happy about the situation. However, it was the policy of the country." The English do use the Mrikaners as scapegoats. They place the responsibility for apartheid solely on the Mrikaners but accept its benefits. The National Party is referred to as "their" party; the Dutch Reformed Church is "their" church and imposes "their" values; the 30 The Hoerschul, the Africaans language school, was threatened because it lacked sufficient pupils. It is threatened more now.

[75]

Dismantling Apartheid

Broederbond is "their" organization and controls the government. The English claim that racial feelings are "inbred in the Rocks" and joke about it. One story tells of a group of English whites discussing the ridiculous views of Afrikaners. One asserted that Afrikaners believe there are no blacks in heaven. Everyone laughed, and someone said, "Surely not." So to prove the point, when an Afrikaner acquaintance entered the pub, the English speaker put the question to him. The Afrikaner replied that there were no blacks in heaven. Others' perceptions of Emil were probably influenced by this kind of negative stereotyping. Admitting the impact of acculturation, Anna reported that her racial views too had changed as a result of being in U mtata: "At first I wouldn't accept them, but now I do ... especially since I've stayed in Transkei. Why? My eyes opened. I'm older now. I think for myself. The problem is that grandparents began teaching these ideas, and they've just been passed down" (cf. Smith, 1983). When I introduced South African politics into our conversations, as I had with the other informants, both Anna and Emil expressed a lack of interest in political issues. On one man, one vote in South Africa, "I try not to answer political questions," responded Emil. Anna said, "Politics is out for me. I'm not very interested."31 "Do blacks have a legitimate grievance?" I queried. "I don't know," said Anna. "I don't think so," said Emil. 31 Is it that ideological conformity is so enforced in South Africa that people refuse to think seriously about certain issues? Or is it that "politics" is the term reserved for issues involving change, which really are outside most whites' interest? In any event, throughout the interviews it was clear that widespread lack of political information existed among Umtata whites and that there was an aversion to discussing certain political topics.

[76]

[3] Social Dominance

In talking about Umtata, Arthur Chapman, a prominent political figure, voiced many of the ideas, myths, and images that undergird white South Mrica's culture of dominance. The question is not one of race. I don't think in terms of race. It is one of competence. Unfortunately, it takes many generations to be civilized. One's degrees don't count. You can have a man with a law degree or graduate degree who was born in a small village, son of an illiterate peasant . . . . He's not fully competent just because of the degree. He doesn't have the tradition and culture which is passed on through generations. One is better off with a bloke who only has [a high school diploma] but whose father had [finished tenth grade], whose mother was civilized, and whose grandparents operated small businesses and learned to read and write .... The peasants here are like England was when people were still wearing skins-they don't even wear clothes! How can they live next door to a British person today? They don't even know what the vote is.

These are apparently common views among South Mrica's dominant group. Crapanzano quotes an Afrikaner woman who told him, "The Blacks are barbarians, uncivilized, raw. They can become professors and doctors, but there is always something lacking .... It is a question of breeding and background" (1985: 19). Chapman continued: There are three classes of blacks. One, peasants. They are tribal, honest. They had a law and culture of their own. One has protective feelings [77]

Dismantling Apartheid toward them. They can't compete. You don't want to have them taken. Two, semieducated. They have a lower education, the youth. They know everything. They can run the country straightaway. Three, middle and upper class. In many cases they are far superior to many whites in education and civilization, especially working-class whites. They are prepared to learn. They realize that the assistance of whites is necessary.... We have brilliant blacks. Apartheid is more an Mrikaner policy, but it is ridiculous to say apartheid is based on race. The Mrikaners have a saying, soort soek soort, which means "standards seek standards." You still have separation, but really one is talking about class separation. The trouble is that one has to generalize .... We are used to certain standards. I estimate that there are only about five million people maintaining standards here-three to four million whites, one million blacks and Coloreds. We hold our own. We have high standards. 1

Chapman had been a town councillor for about ten years and a leader in white interest groups. He participated in public life for personal gain and in order to control events. The fact that he held these views despite his participation in Umtata's new multiracial politics illustrates that there can be considerable change in the structures of race relations and some change in their substance, yet almost no change at all in the world view that underlies white dominance. 2 For most of its existence, apartheid in Umtata was the same as elsewhere in South Africa. Africans were forced to carry reference books. The Group Areas Act and the Pass Laws were mechanisms of "influx control." Pass raids and clampdowns on illegal residents were conducted regularly. Curfews and visitation rights were strictly policed. Employers were fined for hiring Africans illegally, and registration of both employers and work seekers at a labor bureau was enforced. Public facilities were rigidly segregated. As late as 1971, Pre1 In 1956, U.S. Senator Sam Ervin claimed that racial segregation was "a basic law of nature-the law that like seeks like ... man finds his greatest happiness when he is among people of similar cultural, historical and social backgrounds" (''The Case for Segregation," Look, 24 February 1956). 2 We are reminded that "our sense of the primitive impinges on our sense of our selves-it is bound up with the selves who act in the 'real,' political world"; We must see Chapman "as needing the primitive and as inventing the primitive that fits [his] needs" (Torgovnick, 1990: 17, 174). Indeed, Chapman's behavior suggests that he was fighting desperately to preserve his social position or even his identity. This chapter shows that institutionalized segregation was dismantled in U mtata without significantly altering the established patterns of social dominance.

[78]

Social Dominance

toria refused to allow hoteliers to serve Mricans, despite Transkei's "self-governing" (but not yet "independent") status at that time. 3 The white community, through the Town Council, also supported strict segregation. A widely publicized case in point concerned the Umtata General Hospital and the Henry Elliot Hospital, respectively the Mrican and white sections of the local medical facility. In 1972, when all health services were supposed to have been transferred to the Transkei government, the U mtata Town Council built a barrier between the two parts of the hospital. The Transkei Minister of Health observed: "In view of the division ofU mtata hospital into black and white sections it is clear the white people hate contacts between black and white .... The creation of the 'Berlin Wall' was the entire responsibility of the local authority and contrary to the wishes and aspirations of the cabinet of the Transkeian government and the people of the Transkei." 4 The white secretary to the Transkei Ministry of Health refused to comment to news reporters, as did the white medical superintendent of the hospital. Mter six months and much public criticism, the wall was demolished. 5 Other public facilities were thoroughly segregated as well. Just one year before Transkei independence and thirteen years after selfgovernment, according to newspaper commentary, "a Transkei Member of Parliament may not sit in the New Regent Cafe round the corner from the Assembly where he debates Transkei legislation-only whites may do that .... The cafe is a White spot within a Black spot (a black zoned part ofUmtata) within a White spot (Umtata itself) within a Black spot (the Transkei) within a White spot (the Republic) within a Black spot (the Mrican continent)."6 Like other local governments, the Umtata municipality practiced racial discrimination as a matter of course. Town Hall was reserved for whites. The Town Council consistently refused to allow Mrican functions in the hall. In 1970 it refused to permit the South African National Beauty contest to be held there. In 1974 a four-day congress of the National Mrican Federated Chamber of Commerce asked to hold its Daily Dispatch, 4 June 1975. Daily Dispatch, 19 April1973; 2 November 1973. 5 The fact that such an event could occur shows the degree of power Africans exercised under separate development. Until1977, the Umtata municipality also operated a clinic for whites only. 6 Sunday Times, 10 October 1976. 3 4

[79]

Dismantling Apartheid

banquet there. This request too was denied, and the banquet had 'to be divided and held at two sites. 7 Many churches were segregated as well. The Methodists-the largest denomination, with about 300,000 adherents in Transkei-had one church in town for whites, and one in Ncambedlana for Africans. The Dutch Reformed and the Baptists were completely segregated. The Anglicans, the second largest denomination, had a cathedral in town and churches in Ngangelizwe and Ncambedlana, though the cathedral had never been segregated. The Roman Catholic churches were nonracial. 8 Job reservation and separate salary scales were also the norm. A typical complaint was that black nurses were paid less than their white, Colored, and Indian counterparts, even though they had all passed the same nursing examinations. 9 And well into the 1970s municipal hiring policy reflected traditional views: "While the Council is fully prepared to employ, and in a number of cases has employed, such Black staff, where these are available, it must be remembered that this could hardly be made to apply to the more senior posts. All other considerations aside, it is a largely accepted way of our South African tradition and outlook that a White employee will not readily accept orders from a Black senior official, who has control over his duties, however qualified and competent such a Black official may be." 10 Though apartheid was ubiquitous, there was apparently very little anti-white reaction. In the wake of the 1959-62 rebellion, a white policeman was killed by the "militant" Poqo, and shortly thereafter five whites, including a woman and two young girls, were murdered at a road camp near the Bashee River (Race Relations Survey, 1963: 18). Both Mricans and whites agree that these incidents were blemishes on otherwise good race relations. Curiously, though, there are substantially different stories on what actually happened at the Bashee River camp. A white municipal administrator reported: "As I understand it, some Mrikaners started a quarry at Bashee River. They set certain Daily Dispatch, 29 March 1972, 20 June 1974. In those instances where churches had previously been segregated, physical location and habit combined to keep them so. The Methodists in particular came under attack for their "apartheid" practices; as late as 1978, Africans complained that "black ministers were not allowed to stand and preach the word of God in front of white congregations" (Imvo Transkei, 11 February 1978). 9 Daily Dispatch, 8 July 1972. 10 Mayoral Minute, 1973-74. As October 1976 approached, the municipality did in fact employ more Africans, albeit on reduced salary scales. 7

8

[80]

Social Dominance

work tasks for the black employees-targets and goals which must be met in order to get paid. At the end of the first week, the goal had not been met, so the whites refused to pay the workers. The matter was taken to the magistrate who insisted that the workers be paid. The same thing happened the following week. The blacks angrily murdered the man and his wife" (interview). According to an Mrican member of the Town Council, however, who was probably less well informed, "People said PAC [Pan Africanist Congress], Poqo-they are the same-were involved. Five people were killed. A road gang was tarring the Queenstown road. Africans were not happy about the road because it was cutting through their mealie fields. Plus or minus twenty-five blacks were hanged for that. Apparently there was no provocation. Generally, however, people are lawbiding-always tolerated each other. There have been few incidents" (intervew). These incidents occurred about the time of self-government, igniting even greater fears among whites. Deep-seated fears resurfaced in 1976 as Transkei independence approached, though people had differing recollections: Whites didn't have fears of physical violence. They were afraid of financialloss. Whites were not forced to sell. It was fear of the unknown which made them sell. They thought their property might be expropriated or nationalized. Whites sold because of panic and horror. Some said, "You'll eventually have to go." ... whites sold because of fear, old age. There was panic selling-they were frightened. Some are still a little afraid. You never know what's going to happen. [Interview]

The plight of Umtata's white municipal employees documents the white public's concern about its "security." Once independence comes . . . they will find themselves in a foreign country. They can find no satisfactory answers to any of the questions they are now posing ... such as whether they can expect any guarantees whatever concerning their future as foreign employees in a foreign state; whether they might not lose any or all of the benefits which have accrued to them through years of service with the council; whether their pension rights will be protected, and if so, how. What for instance will be the position of an official who, with only a few years to go to his pension date, must suddenly make way for a citizen of the Transkei to take over his [81]

Dismantling Apartheid

post? He is then at an age when he would probably find it extremely difficult ... to find a comparable post elsewhere. Is he, in all reasonableness, and fairness, expected to make this sacrifice or will he be duly compensated ?11

As independence approached, the South Mrican Association of Municipal Employees posed these and other questions concerning housing benefits, pension schemes, holiday bonuses, group life insurance, and service bonuses. The South African government's response was less than satisfactory, and whites protested: Questions which have not been answered and have caused a feeling of unrest among municipal and Bantu Township Board (BTB) employees are: Will municipal officials be given the choice of going across to the service of the new Transkei when it becomes an independent state, or will municipal officials be placed in local government somewhere else in South Africa? . . . If municipal officials remain in a similar kind of local government service in the Transkei, will their pension rights remain with the Cape Municipal Joint Pension Scheme, or will their pension rights be transferred to a Transkei civil service pension? ... Will the system of local government as it has been known for so many years in South Africa be maintained in the new Transkei state, or will the administrat crs and officials in the towns become part of the Transkeian government service? ... Another question ... is whether the present system of a white council and a white mayor will be maintained in the Transkei? Municipal employees are anxious to know whether a gradual africanization of the municipal service of the Transkei has been planned and why [plans] have been made by the Department of Bantu Administration and Development in Pretoria. The position with regard to the water and electricity services in Umtata has also raised speculation and municipal officials are angry that the Pretoria memorandum has not specified whether these services will fall under the control of the central Transkeian government after independence.l2

Early in 1976, at a special session of the U mtata Town Council, white municipal employees requested and received council support on the major issues.l 3 Nevertheless, as independence approached, fears and 11

Mayoral Minute, 1974-75.

12

Daily Dispatch, 17 March 1976.

l3The issues backed by the council were (a) that the municipal employees are not prepared to become civil servants unless the provisions of the present pensions ordinance would be invoked due to reorganization and the benefits payable in terms of

[82]

Social Dominance

uncertainty were so great that twenty-one municipal employees resigned and left Umtata. Four others retired on pension. In the end, 25 percent of the white municipal staff left rather than stay on through independence. At the eleventh hour Pretoria announced that white municipal employees had two options: they could join the Republican government before independence and be seconded to work for the Umtata municipality, or they could remain municipal employees on existing terms but could not remain members of the South Mrican Association of Municipal Employees. 14 Later, the government guaranteed similar posts elsewhere in South Africa for all staff made redundant as a result of "Africanization."15 Sixty people opted to be employed by the South African government and seconded to Umtata. According to a senior municipal official, they "were mainly interested in security of employment. They don't mind living here but were afraid that the black government might kick all white faces out. Secondly, South Mrican officials get foreign allowances Sections 37 and 38 of the ordinance paid should the employees so wish, and that should an employee agree to have his pensionable service transferred to the government he be permitted to transfer his pensionable service together with any pensionable service he may accrue in the government service, back to a municipal pension scheme should he wish to revert to municipal service; (b) that the Republican government [should] guarantee the payment of any pensions to employees who fall under the provisions of Section 37 of the Cape Pensions Ordinance should the municipality at any time or for any reason revoke the payment of these pensions; (c) that the Republican government guarantee the payment of cost ofliving allowances to pensioners, as presently provided for, should the municipalities revoke the payment of such a cost of living allowance (minutes of a special council meeting held 18 March 1976 to consider "the memorandum from the Department of Bantu Administration and Development on the future position of the white-controlled Transkeian municipalities of the white municipal staff"). 14 Daily Dispatch, 31 August 1976. Despite Pretoria's statement, there was still a "general feeling of uncertainty and despondency about their future which is apparent amongst the white employees. They have been informed that they will be employed by the South African government and then seconded to work for the U mtata municipality. In pursuance thereof, they have completed and submitted forms in expectation of an offer being made to each of them before the end of July, 1976. That date having passed without offers being forthcoming and as this matter has been unresolved for a very long time, the staff has become very restive and four resignations, including a senior head of department, have already been received since 1 August 1976. Unless this matter is resolved very soon, the position could become desperate" (Mayoral Minute, 1975-76). 15 Mayoral Minute, 1976-77. Housing was also a major concern as more of the town was zoned black, and white properties were bought by the government (Mayoral Minute, 1975-76). The Xhosa Development Corporation owned the most white housing in Umtata, with 120 houses, 50 Hats, and a private hotel; second was the South African Bantu Trust, with 140 houses usually rented to civil servants.

[83]

Dismantling Apartheid

and other benefits." Fourteen employees chose to work for the municipality. To ensure that they and later employees would not lose financially, "the council regraded all posts and in addition agreed to pay these officials an allowance ofR75/month in lieu offree housing which seconded officials received . . . . [The council was] able to secure membership for them in the Cape Joint Pension Fund and the Local Authorities Medical Aid Scheme." 16 As early as 1978, feeling more at ease, a number of seconded officials asked to transfer back to municipal employment, but the issue of pensions became a stumbling block. In line with the separate development notion that "independent" Transkei was for Africans and South Mrica for whites, Pretoria's objective was to dislodge whites by making their circumstances less secure. The government refused to transfer the pensions of these employees to the Municipal Pension Scheme, so the officers remained seconded in order to avoid losing their previous pensionable service. 17 Though fear of economic loss was considerable, a more overwhelming white fear, fanned by culturally produced images, was for physical safety. 18 One informant recalled: "Pre-independence fear among whites was fear of the unknown. We have mistreated them. Maybe they will retaliate. Consequently many whites sent their wives and children out of Transkei." Another agreed that "the people who left were afraid of bloodshed-like the Congo.... Some are coming back and others would like to come back." And newspapers at the time quoted similar reactions: "At our coffee mornings, we talk about nothing else than independence. Probably nothing will happen, but I'm keeping my children off the street all this week"; "We'll drive down to Durban or East London for a few days. Not that we think there'll be trouble, but, you know, just in case." 19 This uneasiness was a result of information throughout South Mrica about the consequences of majority rule elsewhere in Africa. Pierre 16 Mayoral Minute, 1976-77. I was told that this group had no credentials; they had worked their way up through the ranks and could not duplicate their rank and salary anywhere else. 17 Mayoral Minute, 1978-79, pp. ll-27; 1979-80, p. 9. 18 There was fear not only of violence against whites but of protests by those Africans opposed to independence. Sporadic demonstrations occurred in the smaller towns of Lady Frere, Buntingville, and Clarkesbury; a beer hall in Umtata had been set alight; and the opposition Democratic Party had called for a boycott of independence celebrations (Daily Dispatch, 13 September 1976). 19 Daily Dispatch, 28 October 1976.

[84]

Social Dominance

Hugo has documented that large numbers of South Africans have negative impressions of the experience of whites at the hands of African governments. Stressing the press's presentation of anti-white violence and rape during the Mau Mau uprising in Kenya and the establishment of independence in the Belgian Congo, he correctly concludes, "This chorus of violent images which are stored in the respondents' memorybanks contribute towards explaining the widespread prevalence of fears of physical danger and collapse of law and order under black majority-rule in South Africa" (1983: 16). This was certainly the case in Umtata. The logic of separate development required a firm belief in Africans' having their own independent nations, because otherwise it would be more difficult to rationalize whites' having their own independent nations. Consequently, despite the views of the Africans and the outside world, whites took Transkei independence seriously. The massive Soweto rebellions earlier in 1976 exacerbated white fears about independence, which was scheduled for October of that year. Although there were in fact no anti-white incidents when the day arrived, the following report of an alleged earlier incident graphically conveys the power and depth of white fears. On August 17, two months before independence, newspaper headlines read, "Umtata Woman Attacked." The story told of a young newly married white woman who was dragged into a toilet of the Transkei Hotel here by three toughs who slashed her face and hands with a razor blade "for independence." ... "Coming into work that morning I felt a touch on my shoulder. I turned and saw three black men. One said, 'We are coming to mark you for independence. You are going to be our wife.' I thought they were joking and forgot about the whole thing,., Mrs. X said. At about 2:30 that afternoon she went to the toilet. As she entered, she was shoved roughly from behind and a hand was clapped over her mouth to prevent her screaming. "I saw then there were two blacks hiding behind the door. They were the same ones who had spoken to me that morning. The man who had his hand over my mouth was also one of them. They pushed me into the shower room. Then one pulled a razor from his pocket and cut me all over the backs of my hands and on my face. They rubbed white powder into the cuts. Then they touched my body, suggesting that they pull my pants down. But one of the men told the others not to. They threatened me with a knife, saying they would kill me ifl screamed. After shutting me in one of the toilets, they ran away." ... Large star shaped symbols were slashed on the back of Mrs. X's hands and forearms and a crude star was slashed on her right cheek. She is receiving medical [85]

Dismantling Apartheid

treatment in the hope of avoiding permanent scarring. "I didn't feel bad then, but at home that night I broke down and cried and screamed. Later that night I had a nightmare about it and woke up screaming," she said. Mr. X, a teller in a bank here, said yesterday, "I knew this was going to happen to a white woman sometime or other. Unfortunately it happened to my wife. I am putting in for a transfer. I want to get out of the Transkei as soon as possible."2o

The report caused widespread alarm in Umtata's white community. Several men forbade their wives to go shopping; other women formed "shopping clubs" in order to avoid going out alone. An additional worry was that the incident would "discourage whites with much needed skills [from] coming to work in the Transkei .... But many whites said they were relieved and impressed with the strong stand the Chief Minister had taken on the matter." 21 Indeed, Matanzima did condemn the attack and asserted that "the criminals who perpetrated this dastardly act will be hunted down and mercilessly punished .... I warn them they must expect the full weight of the law when we catch up with them. We want the Transkei free of all racial tensions when October 26 dawns." 22 The furor blew over quickly, however. Commenting six months later, a research assistant told me, I was overseas at the time. Mom wrote and told me, "You know we're are having a little bit of trouble here." And she told me about this incident .... Then she found out afterwards, she told me, that this woman and her husband had asked for a transfer out of Umtata because they didn't want to stay for independence. And they had been refused. And she had cut her own face and reported it as having black men involved so that they could be moved out ofTranskei ... as an excuse for their firm to move them out .... There were supposed to be big gashes, but you could hardly see that [there] were little scratch marks. It was blown up so much .... If she had two scratches on her face it was a lot! [Interview]

The effectiveness of the hoax demonstrates the role of fear in the maintenance of the culture of dominance. Negative images are essential to the rationalization of white superiority. Though the fears are Dispatch, 17 August 1976. Daily Dispatch, 18 August 1976.

2o Daily 21

22 Ibid. The (white) mayor of U mtata responded, "I welcome the Chief Minister's statement and we will support him in eliminating racial discrimination in Transkei."

[86]

Social Dominance

genuine, and though they explain much about dominant group behavior, it is important to realize that such fears and images are instrumental. They have been transmitted culturally from the nineteenth century and into the twentieth century. They support white dominance by creating cognitive, emotional, and psychological predispositions to support the status quo. 23 Responding to the general anxiety, some 500 South African policemen were brought in on the eve of independence to assist Transkei's police force in handling the crowds and maintaining order throughout the independence celebrations. The Transkei commissioner of police commented, "We are hoping nothing will happen. But with the present internal situation in South Africa anything can happen. We are not taking any chances."24 Apprehension was high on October 26, 1976. For months, whites from elsewhere in South Mrica had avoided traveling through the Transkei (Campion, 1976: 45), and white attendance at the celebrations was very small. All bottle stores, bars, and beer halls had been closed by a surprise edict two days before the celebrations, so there would be no alcohol for Mrican consumption. Afterward, newspapers proclaimed "Two Crime-Free days" and noted: "Transkei's first 18 hours of independence were crimefree-despite whites' fears of unrest ... no incidents of drunkenness, vandalism, housebreaking, rape, theft or burglary were reported." 25 Mter Transkei became independent, Pretoria pressed on with the dismantling of social apartheid. In 1976 most race laws were repealed and many social customs deliberately modified. Given the nature of human social organization, however, there was considerable de facto continuity in the old patterns of racial interaction. The "change but no change" phenomenon that characterized race relations was symbolized by the Coffee Pot, a small cafe attached to a petrol station in Umtata's central business district. The large room had two entrance doors about 23 D. Kennedy made a similar point about white settlers in Kenya and Southern Rhodesia: "Whether legitimate or not, these fears served the functional purpose of enforcing racial unity, of compelling white settlers to delineate material and symbolic boundaries between themselves and those people upon whom their livelihoods so heavily depended" (1987: 188). The mere existence of fear among whites is very frequently offered as sufficient justification for their not changing their behavior. Fear does not have to be explained. It is a nonrational explanation that others find acceptable. It is the ideal cultural crutch. 24 Daily Dispatch, 27 May 1976, 25 October 1976. 25 Daily Dispatch, 27 October 1976.

[87]

Dismantling Apartheid

three feet apart. Previously, a wall had bisected the building, creating two dining areas; One door opened into the African dining room, the other opened into the white dining room. After independence, a glass display case stood in exactly the spot where the wall had been. Yet virtually all whites continued to use the former "European" door and most Africans the "African" entrance. Furthermore, though seating was officially desegregated, each racial group continued to sit on its respective side, and there were still some symbolic differences. The rooms had identical chairs, tables, and tablecloths, but the white side was neater; it had menus, ashtrays, and napkins; and the glass divider displayed its contents in that direction. The Coffee Pot visually illustrated the mixture of change and continuity that characterized Umtata's social structure. There was change in that many institutionalized barriers went down, but different symbols often took their place, and people's behavior remained much the same. The Coffee Pot also dramatized the fact that social change in Umtata was largely a process of giving some access to the African middle class. Working-class Africans, who made up 80 percent of the clientele, invariably continued to sit in the African area. Only members of the African middle class or Africans in the company of whites (such as nannies) patronized the white dining area, and whites never sat in the African area. 26 Everyone knew where to go. There was change, but no change. Although the legal changes did not occur until after October 26, 1976, in practice some apartheid laws had not been enforced for some time before that date. The change apparently began after the 1974 announcement that Transkei was going to be granted independence. Toward the end of that year, a journalist from Natal said ofUmtata: "On a superficial level, there is more racial intermingling than in Durban for example. Whites shop happily in black-owned stores, work at adjoining desks and share adjoining offices. There are no apartheid signs in the parks or in lifts, and multiracial functions at the white and single black hotel in Umtata are common." 27 It seems, therefore, that there was a lead-in period to the official dismantling of apartheid. In 1974 the South African government began 26The only exception I observed was on a holiday, when the whites who sat in the Mrican area were visitors, aware oflegal desegregation in Umtata but unaware of the informal codes that remained in this establishment. Furthermore, on a holiday there were no working-class Mricans present to signal which side was for whites. 2 7 Natal Mercury, 11 December 1974.

[88]

Social Dominance

Africanization in the Transkei civil service: "Two Transkeians [were] promoted to the grade of chief clerks. They are the first in the Department of Education to hold such a post. Six have been promoted to principal clerks, five as grade senior clerks, five as grade one clerks and one as a training officer." Simultaneously, the process of equalizing some salaries was begun. Announcing a "considerable" increase in the salaries of black teachers, the Transkei Minister of Education said that "the policy of the Transkeian Government to increase salaries periodically until the black-white salary gap was closed." 28 Also in 1974 an African was appointed principal matron of the Umtata General Hospital, the first African to hold such a post anywhere in South Africa. In 1975, the deputy commissioner ofTranskei police was promoted to the rank of major, "the first black policeman in South Africa to hold such a high rank." Then, on the eve of independence, Dr. D. C. Luswazi was appointed medical superintendent ofUmtata General Hospital, another South African first. 29 During the same period, one by one, hotels, bars, and other public places in U mtata were effectively desegregated. South African legislation allowed holders ofliquor licenses throughout the country to apply for special authority to open to all races, and after 1974 many hotels in U mtata received permission to do so. Even the architects of new buildings took note of the impending change in their designs. Umtata's new post office was built without partitions, providing for mixed queues at the counter. 30 Despite its earlier refusal, and after telephoning Pretoria to obtain government permission, the Town Council eventually gave permission for Town Hall to open to all races. The first occasion was the 1975 Dramatic Society's performance of The Student Prince. Thereafter, Town Hall was made available to everyone. Also in 1975, the Umtata public library was opened to all races, increasing its membership from 2,819 to 4,625. 31 By 1976 desegregation of public facilities was virtually complete. Hotel lounges served guests of all races, and interracial groups presented themselves from time to time. Companies gave multiracial Christmas parties that had a token number of Africans in attendance. In many ways, though, apartheid still existed even after changes in the law. In some office buildings there were no more racial signs on the Daily Dispatch, 20 March 1974. Daily Dispatch, 16 May 1974, 17 April 1975, 27 May 1976. 30 Daily Dispatch, 7 January 1976. 31 Mayoral Minute, 1975-76. 28 29

[89]

Disnwntling Apartheid

restrooms, but the former "white" toilets were now locked, and only whites had keys. Separate counters for the cheaper and more expensive cuts of meat effectively segregated Mricans and whites in the butcher shops. Elsewhere, many "European" and "African" signs were replaced with signs in English and Xhosa. U mtata's only cinema still had a cheaper balcony that could be reached only from stairs located outside the building. Consequently, life for non-middle-class Mricans changed hardly at all. They continued to be relegated to the apartheid facilities. In addition, being white remained a symbol of superordinate social status. Many public places, for instance, required men to wear ties after 5:00 P.M. and strictly enforced the regulation for Mricans but seldom for whites. Even when the intention was to apply the rule equally, it could be difficult in practice because African waiters and maitre d's were unaccustomed to challenging whites. More to the point, whites were unaccustomed to being challenged by Africans and could ignore them with impunity. 32 There was also a lead-in to the desegregation of private clubs and other voluntary organizations. Sports associations were among the first. 33 As early as October 1975, "the president of the Transkei Cricket Union, Mr. Gordon Elliot, said his white union would welcome any applications by blacks .... 'By playing blacks and whites in the same team [we] can only better the relationship between the two groups .... We will apply for permission from the Border Cricket Union to field a mixed team. Cricket will not just come to a stop in the Transkei,' he said."34 Just after independence, in November 1976, the Transkei 32 In less public situations, old symbols and patterns of behavior were even more likely to persist. At the local Volkswagen shop the white foreman wore white overalls, and the other mechanics and attendants, including other whites, wore blue overallsbut at tea time all the whites retired together to a small tea room and were served separately. Similarly, a local bus company administered "alcho-tests" only to its African employees. 33 In April, 1976, the South African government handed over responsibility for some prisons to the Transkei government. The Umtata prison's recreational facilities included a clubhouse, a bowling green, and a tennis court. As these facilities came legally under the control of the African government, they were opened to African staff, thereby creating Transkei's first multiracial club (Daily Dispatch, 1 April 1976). 34 Daily Dispatch, 1 October 1975. The president of the Border Cricket Union, Leigh Warren, said he did not know what would happen: "My personal view is that we must be prepared to accept mixed cricket. We have not discussed this at a provincial level, but I don't see how ... the South African Cricket Union could refuse them the right to play." He pointed out, however, that "unless the present government changes its sport laws before the Transkei goes non-racial, this will be the last season for the Transkei Cricket

[90]

Social Dominance

African Cricket Union and the white Transkei Cricket Union in fact formed one nonracial body "to control cricket for all racial groups." The African president committed the newly formed cricket board to encouraging mixed cricket from the club level. The new board had an executive committee composed of Africans and whites. 35 The African Transkei Football Association, which was affiliated with the South African National Football Association, announced plans for mixed soccer in January 1976. The leading promoter said the team would have fifteen semiprofessional players selected on merit, and that it hoped to play "leading soccer teams from independent black states." The first multiracial soccer match was held in U mtata in March 1976. 36 Other groups fell in line. In March 1976 a special meeting of the U mtata Flying Club decided that there would be no discrimination in membership. By November 1977 the club's forty members included three Africans. The entrance fee was RIO, plus an RIO annual membership fee. The chairman said publicly, "We discussed the situation of opening the clubhouse to all races and there certainly is nothing in our team ... in the Border league while after next season the Border Rugby Union will have to say farewell to the Transkei Rugby team .... The laws of this country do not cater for mixed sport at club level and this effectively kills any contact between Transkei and the all-white unions on the border. It's now up to the white unions ... to get moving in this direction if they want to maintain contact. They must apply now for permission to allow mixed sport at club level." The president of the Transkei Rugby Club, Louwtjie Pieterse, said, "There have been no moves yet by the blacks to join us and if they do, as they no doubt will, it will be up to the Border Rugby Union and the South African Rugby Board to sort the matter out" (Daily Dispatch, 1 October 1975). The following year, immediately after independence, the president of the South African Rugby Board said Transkei players would probably no longer be allowed to play in Border Cup competitions organized by the Border Rugby Union: "I take it that now Transkei is an independent country they will have their own national body that will run their own competitions. They will be able to play in South Africa with mixed club teams, but these games would have to be 'friendlies' -like Rhodesia" (Daily Dispatch, 29 October 1976). Some white players in Transkei had hoped to be allowed to join clubs across the border, but this was contrary to the Border Rugby Union constitution. But in 1977 the South African Rugby Union rejected separatism. Its senior vice-president claimed: "We in SARU have shown total abhorrence of a system which differentiates between people . . . . Separatism is like a hen that lays bad eggs. Separate development has already laid a number of these bad eggs and an example is Transkei's so-called independence .... South Africa is one indivisible unit which must be shared by us all" (Daily Dispatch, 22 November 1977). 35 Daily Dispatch. 26 November 1976 . .16 Daily Dispatch, 19 January and 26 March 1976. The National Football League apparently had no problem with mixed sport because East London United played the Transkei Bush Bucks in Umtata just after independence took effect. [91]

Dismantling Apartheid

constitution which prohibits black membership. On the social side of the club, we will not have any difficulty in mixing. Most of our functions are held at the clubhouse and this means we will not contravene any laws prohibiting multiracial functions in public."37 The process of desegregation was not without its trying moments. In July 1975, for instance, three whites traveling from Durban were involved in an accident near Umtata and taken to Umtata General Hospital, "where the doctor and her team of nurses set to work, put them under sedation, and managed to stop the bleeding" from a severe head wound sustained by one. The doctor, a young African woman, was confronted by a white hospital technician who asked, "Are you aware you will be in trouble for treating white patients?" and the patients were taken to the white side of the hospital. Later, the medical superintendent explained that "there was no distinction in emergency cases. Black doctors could treat white patients and white doctors black patients." In any case, he noted, in some parts of the Transkei there were only black doctors. 38 Social interaction across racial lines did increase for middle-class U mtatans after 1976. The presence of a few blacks in formerly all-white neighborhoods led to some increased contact. As one white Transkeian observed, "Just the other day, a black woman doctor and daughter who are neighbors popped in to visit. That wouldn't have happened two years ago." Mter independence, all private organizations made bylaw changes to allow African membership, and all new organizations were multiracial. 39 Chapters of some national organizations broke away from the South Mrican parent to form their own multiracial groups. The South Mrican Medical Association, for instance, created a Transkei Medical Association "as an arbiter of ethical professional standards in Transkei and contribute[ d) RlO,OOO to its formation." 40 Mter 1976, U mtata's chapters of major international service organizations- Lions, Roundtable, Rotary-and the local U mtata Club and Country Club, as well as smaller private groups, all began admitting Mricans. By 1978 the Country Club had 427 members, nine of whom were Mrican. The ninety-seven-year-old, all-male Umtata Club had Daily Dispatch, 23 March 1976. Dispatch, 7 July 1975. 39 The Transkei Chamber of Industries, a new body formed in the industrial town of Butterworth, declared itself nonracial and opened its membership to "all industrialists" (Daily Dispatch, 4 October 1976). 40 Daily Dispatch, 14 July 1977. 37

38 Daily

[92]

Social Dominance

three Africans among its 140 members. However, an executive member explained to me that the Roundtable's select group of twenty-three men between the ages of eighteen and forty had "not found the right bloke yet." Each of the major organizations required applicants to be nominated by one or more existing members. Nominations were publicly posted for a specified time, during which the objections of any existing member would disqualifY the applicant. This selection procedure, plus high membership and activity fees, ensured that new Mrican members met very high class criteria; invariably they were senior civil servants or professional or business people. The point is again underscored that in practice, racial desegregation occurred only for the Mrican bourgeoisie. More and more Africans were admitted to these social amenities as more and more Mricans assumed middle-class positions in Umtata society. For most U mtata residents, social integration did not occur to any significant degree, despite public desegregation. Informal rules still governed which social facilities each race frequented. Everyone knew where to go. Whites did not patronize the Transkei Hotel, because it was located in one of the first areas to be zoned black. Its bar served African beer, and Africans were encouraged to go there. The reverse was true of the Grosvenor and Savoy hotels. As prescribed by the culture, close contact with Mricans was in fact avoided by most whites. They shared the public library with Africans but almost never frequented the newly integrated swimming pool. The case of the "swimming bath," in fact, offers more insight into the change-but-no-change phenomenon in Umtata. In 1972 the "whites only" swimming bath (built by the Roundtable in 1958) was popular with both children and adults, and the following year the Town Council noted the large number of schools and clubs enjoying it, as well as private individuals. During the days of segregation, there was no charge for access, the council arguing that the public gained because the municipality saved on the cashier's salary and the additional bookwork. In 1977, after desegregation, a ten-cent charge was levied for entry to the pool, which effectively limited access to the middle class. In addition, whites began to swim at the newly constructed Umtata High School pool, which was allowed to "privatize" and could legally limit access to whites only. Despite the public swimming pool's earlier popularity, 97 percent of whites were no longer using it by 1978. 41 41 Mayoral Minute, 1971-72, 1973-74, 1974-75. In my survey of the white community, only one respondent reported frequenting the public pool "once a month."

[93]

Dismantling Apartheid

For historical reasons, the most striking form of social interaction across racial lines is interracial dating. Though still very rarely, white men and African women began to be seen in public. Informants reported that sometimes such couples socialized in white circles: "Everyone knows [these men] have black girl friends." But although the African women were accepted in these circles, I was told that because of "innate feelings of inferiority," they usually stayed in the background. Inevitably, the question of mixed marriages arose. How it was handled shows who made the social rules in U mtata. White dominance can be maintained in South Africa only if races are kept separate. Interracial marriage not only involves the mixing of races but is the ultimate social expression of racial equality; prohibiting it has thus been essential for social control in South Africa. Accordingly, the culture of dominance instills strong values against intermarriage and imposes severe sanctions on those who transgress them. The Status of the Transkei Bill, which granted independence to the bantustan, provided that all existing laws were to remain in operation until their amendment or repeal by the Transkei authorities. Consequently, not having been repealed, the Mixed Marriages Act and the Immorality Act remained law in Transkei-despite the preindependence assertion by the Transkei Minister of Justice that all South African legislation concerning sex across the color line and race classification would eventually be repealed. He added, "I cannot say when this will happen, nor can I say in what form the repeal will be made. We have said before that all laws repugnant to us will be repealed."42 The year after independence, a motion was actually passed in the Transkei National Assembly proposing the repeal of the two unenforced acts. They were not repealed. In April 1978, by means of the Prohibition of Prostitution and Related Activities Bill, the Transkei National Assembly made prostitution illegal and dropped "provisions which prohibit intercourse purely on the basis of colour or race," but the Mixed Marriages Act was still not voided. In October 1978, newspaper reports indicated that the Transkei Marriage Act, which would enable a mixed couple to marry, had been passed by the National Assembly but not sanctioned by the president, promulgated, or gazetted. 43 Daily Dispatch, 30 October 1976. Daily Dispatch, 5 April 1978; Post, 19-21 October 1978. Some thought that Transkei officials were acting on a directive from Afrikaner officials in Pretoria. 42

43

[94]

Social Dominance

It is evident that Pretoria routinely interfered with Transkei actions, so one can easily imagine that the highly emotional issue of mixed marriages was a matter on which Pretoria intervened. The Transkei police commissioner could only say that infringements of the Mixed Marriages Act and Immorality Act, though technically still on the books, would continue to be ignored "by policy in view of this vote and in accordance with Transkei's stated policy of nonracialism" (Race Relations Survey, 1977: 338). In August 1977, Mr. John Morgan and Miss Duku Jente made the headlines as the first marriage across the color line in Transkei. Seven months later, however, Morgan received a letter from the magistrate who had officiated at his wedding, indicating that the marriage was not valid because the Mixed Marriages Act had not been removed from the books. Tragically, the "marriage" subsequently fell on hard times. Hoping to escape apartheid, other mixed couples fled to Umtata. In February 1978 the press announced the arrival of Mr. Arthur Meyer and Miss Miriam Steenkamp, who had pleaded guilty in East London to contravening the Immorality Act. The court magistrate noted that imprisonment for this crime was obligatory, but out of compassion he would sentence them each to nine months, suspended for three years. The pair fled to Transkei and were granted temporary permits to live and work there. Mr. Meyer reported, "When we went to see the Secretary of the Interior in U mtata, we walked hand in hand. It was like heave~. There was nothing to hide or be ashamed of." 44 In the meantime, acting to reassure the white public, South African Minister ofJustice Jimmy Kruger reaffirmed the cultural dogma on the subject. He said he had never been approached by a black leader to repeal the Mixed Marriages Act and section 16 of the Immorality Act, that blacks were proud of their cultural heritage and did not want to get mixed up with whites. "Mr. Kruger said the repeal of the Mixed Marriages Act would not only spell the end of Government policy but it would also be the end of the federal structure proposed by the PFP [Progressive Federal Party]. It would lead to nothing less than a fully integrated South African society." 45 The change process in U mtata was not just a matter of white institutions permitting Mrican participation. Rather, the very character of most white institutions was transformed by emigration as well as desegregation. Even whites who stayed through independence usually 44 45

Daily Dispatch, 14 February 1978; Indaba, 17 February 1978. Post, 16-18 February 1978.

[95]

Dismantling Apartheid

bowed to the various pressures and left Umtata when their contracts ended or when they retired. Most institutions thus had a rapidly changing constituency, not only with Mrican participation on the constant increase but with white participation on the rapid decrease. Once middle-class white institutions would soon be middle-class African institutions. 46 Even as change was occurring, symbols of white social dominance often persisted under the guise of privatization. Changing public institutions into private ones created the legal conditions for continued discrimination. First, although all schools were passed to the Transkei government at independence, former white schools were leased back to the Cape Provincial authorities, at nominal rentals, so that they could be operated as private schools for whites only. The Cape retained responsibility for salaries and equipment and employed all the staff. In short, the Umtata schools remained racially segregated. The Mrikaans Hoerschule remained in operation despite a total enrollment of only 100 pupils and a 1978 matriculation class of five. Both the Hoerschule and the English Umtata High School continued to conduct fund raisers, school fairs, and social activities that were all white. Accepting their continued subordinate status, the Transkei officials tolerated the ignominy of having a whites-only school directly opposite its National Assembly. As the Members of Parliament of this "independent state" completed their duties and exited their chambers, they looked directly into the grounds of a school that their children could not attend. Showing how culture cultivates points of view, most whites proudly considered the Umtata High School desegregated because in 1976 the children ofTranskei Minister of Finance Tsepo Letlaka were admitted. This exception to normal policy was made because his children could not speak Xhosa, having received all their previous education in Europe. "Rumors that the school would be going completely multiracial," 46 The atmosphere of nonracialism in Umtata made it the site for multiracial gatherings that would not have been permitted elsewhere in South Africa. The Summer Festival of Ballroom and Latin American Dancing, held in Umtata's Town Hall, attracted competitors from Transvaal, the western and eastern Cape, and Natal. Transkei Minister of Education S. W. Mbanga noted in his opening remarks that Transkeians were very happy to meet their brothers and sisters from across the borders and hoped they would be able to exchange ideas with the visitors. In addition, his major point was that "while there is much to reap and enjoy in Western patterns of dancing, it is hoped that our traditional dancing will be developed and improved" (IMVBA, 19 November 1977).

[96]

Social Dominance

however, were denied. "Acceptance of the Letlakas did not necessarily mean that the school would accept other blacks." 47 That the best schools remained closed to Xhosa-speaking children in their own country signaled that whites continued to be the socially dominant group. Even the Transkei secretary of education could only plead with the parents at the Umtata High School: The time has come for us in the Transkei to come together, blacks and whites, and evolve a system of education suitable for the intellectual needs of our children, to solve our problems and uplift the communities, to bring them to the same level, in all respects .... Is it not time for you to open your doors to the black child for certain aspects of education that are inadequate in our schools .... I would like to plead with you to offer your services wherever there is a need .... Not only have you to educate those that must still be educated, but in many cases, you must reeducate yourselves for the task at hand. 48

His pleas were to no avail. The schools remained private, still inaccessible to Xhosa-speaking children. Eventually, however, the Umtata High School accepted many nationalities, including West Africans, East Mricans, Indians, and people from the Far East. Children who qualified as "foreign" were admitted, even though they had dark skins. This dominant group behavior supports the contention that ethnicity is mainly a social instrument, and that it is culturally specific in its functioning. Cultures are quite precise about who is to be subordinated and who is not. In Umtata, white privileges exist at the expense of the indigenous Africans. Others-even other people of color-pose no threat to white dominance. Therefore, indigenous African children are the only ones who must be excluded. They are the ones to whom stereotypes are applied and who are the objects of negative images and tropes. Privatization of schooling permitted not only continued ethnic differentiation but, now that class was a more salient social variable, class differentiation as well. Change advantaged the Mrican elite, whose standard of living soon radically diverged from that in rural Transkei. The "highly visible" urban elite who moved into the more responsible positions, were earning gross incomes ofR2,000 to R3,000 47

Daily Dispatch, 9 December 1976. Dispatch, 15 October, 1976.

48 Daily

[97]

Dismantling Apartheid

per month, compared with R50 or less per month for the non-elite (Thomas, 1983: 1, 63, 84; Southall, 1977, 1983; Charton, 1976). The children of these African elite could not attend U mtata High School, however. So rather than submit their children to the "Bantu education" of Transkei schools, some of them began their own private schools. One such school, Vela, started in 1981, "is open to everyone," but all300 students were black, though the teachers are "mixed." The Transkei government provided the land, but the parents pay R250 per quarter for each child. Still, Vela was experiencing financial hard times when I inquired in 1986, and fees were to be raised 12 percent. Not surprisingly, the idea of an African private school caused considerable debate. One group, such as Vela's founders, say they are only interested in quality education for their children. 49 Others, including some young professionals, condemn the idea as elitist and bourgeois. They say middle-class Africans must "feel oppression" in order to be effective in the "struggle." In effect, the protestors are resisting the forces of class-based fission in the African community. Privatization allowed continued discrimination in other facilities. The South African Department of Health continued to operate the white section of the U mtata hospital as a private institution for white seconded officials. Although the matter would be reviewed from time to time, said the Transkei minister of health, whites in Transkei would have separate hospital facilities as a result of "an agreement entered into by the Transkeian Government and South African Government before independence." All whites in Transkei who were not seconded officials could receive medical treatment at any hospital and also at the whites-only hospital in Umtata. Africans would not be admitted. 50 Eighteen months after independence the Transkei National Assembly, bristling at the affront, passed a motion calling for integration of all hospitals in Transkei, among other reasons, "to remove the suspicion that apartheid was practiced in Transkei."51 Like the assembly's motion on the Mixed Marriages Act, this motion had no effect. No action was taken by the Transkei government. 49 There is no compulsory schooling in Transkei, and 75 percent of the population is illiterate. The average number of years of schooling for rural adults is three years; for urban adults, 6.5 years. Between 1970 and 1980, however school enrollment increased from 470,000 to 734,000 (Muller, 1985: 28). 50 Daily Dispatch, 8 January 1977. A whites-only section was created as well at the hospital in Butterworth. 51 Daily Dispatch, 30 March 1978.

[98]

Social Dominance

In August 1978, however, matters came to a head. The medical superintendent of the all-white hospital refused to admit a two-monthold black child despite a request from the Transkei prime minister and minister of health. The medical superintendent said that the child could be admitted only if facilities were not available at the African hospital. He had visited the baby in the overcrowded black section, "found her sharing a cot with another child ... [and] said the child was comfortable." Moreover, he maintained that permission to admit the child had to be given by Pretoria. This assertion of continued white dominance was too blatant, and the medical superintendent was deported from Transkei. The minister of interior announced, "We came to the conclusion that this man had no respect for the Government and the only thing we could do was to deport him. He was arrogant." The medical superintendent, who had practiced in Transkei for thirty years, confidently commented, "The South African Government will take up the matter with the Transkeian Government." No change was made in the private, whites-only status of that section of the hospital. 52 Social statements about white dominance are built into the "private" character of other facilities. In the Savoy Hotel, for instance, the Rugby Club has a separate room with bar, tables and chairs, dart board, and so on. The sign says "members only," and Africans are refused admittance on the grounds that they are not members. Similarly, the Grosvenor Hotel has a small bar reserved for "residents only." There is no access from the street; one has to pass the reception area and cross an interior courtyard to enter the bar. Africans understood that they were not supposed to go there; if they tried, they were turned away on the grounds that they were not residents-yet white nonresidents enter at will. As the dominant group, whites continued to enjoy privileged access not only through the device of privatization but as a result of the momentum of old structures, new techniques to mask old structures, and the manipulation of social values. Differences in wages, for instance, were in part due to previous job reservation and discrimination in education and apprenticeships. But racially differentiated salary scales often continued in the form of"foreign" allowances. All whites in Umtata were, of course, de jure foreigners. Discrimination in housing also continued. The municipality used public funds to construct black housing in or near "the location" and 52

Daily Dispatch, 24, 25, and 30 August 1978. [99]

Dismantling Apartheid

white housing in the more desirable suburbs. Black housing was characteristically small, four-room buildings laid out in rows very close to one another. Often, basic services such as electricity, sewage, and adequate access roads were not provided. By contrast, white housing was larger, well designed, and laid out on large plots. All services were provided. Informal adaptations of previous social customs also retain much of the effect of apartheid. White doctors, for example, used to refuse Mricans admission to their waiting rooms, requiring them to sit outside to be received as the doctor saw fit. Now they allow Mrican patients in-provided they have appointments; otherwise, they must sit outside and be waited on at the doctor's discretion. The scarcity of telephones in the location and lack of familiarity with making appointments ensures that non-elite Mricans are still relegated to the back door. 53 More invidiously, the administration of the law in Umtata remained firmly in white hands and continued to be utilized to support white dominance. Although Africans were appointed principal magistrates in rural areas, in Umtata and Butterworth-where virtually all Transkeian whites live-the principal magistrates were white. In 1978 the three most senior magistrates in Umtata were white. 54 At times, even repealed apartheid laws were seemingly applied for purposes of social control. 55 In one case, an Mrican had been prosecuted in Port Elizabeth under the Pass Laws. His family was poor, and he had found work there. The employer testified that the defendant was an earnest, industrious worker and asked that he not be sent away. The Mrican was convicted nevertheless and returned to Transkei. When brought to trial in U mtata for a petty offense, the white magistrate noted the previous conviction and, despite the repeal of the Pass Laws in Transkei, made the sentence harsher. In a second case, a man convicted of supporting banned African political movements in Port Elizabeth was later brought in on a small charge in Umtata. The white 53 Moreover, given the continuing hospital segregation, if a white doctor hospitalizes an African, that person becomes a "hospital patient," since the white doctor cannot visit patients in the African hospital. 54 African lawyers claim that a white magistrate is always assigned if the case involves a white person as either defendant or plaintiff. 55 Not only did Transkei inherit all of South Africa's laws, but its new legislation retained the essentials of the most oppressive earlier legislation. The Public Security Bill repealed the Suppression of Communism Act, the Unlawful Organization Act, the General Law Amendment Act, the Riotous Assemblies Act, the Public Safety Act, the Gatherings and Demonstrations Act, and the Internal Security Act of South Africa but incorporated their main features (Daily Dispatch, 13 May 1977).

[100]

Social Dominance

magistrate, despite the fact that Transkei independence was supposed to be a realization oflegitimate African political aspirations, threw the book at him, calling him a habitual criminal. 56 Maintaining control and social preeminence was not always easy for the dominant group. Subordinate group resistance did not subside; subordinate group members did not submit. Many of them actually saw independence as establishing new status relationships between the dominant and subordinate groups. An incident involving Brigadier Frank Ngobe, the Transkei police commissioner, reveals the intensity of the struggle for social dominance. Almost a year after independence, Brigadier Ngobe was charged with striking a ten-year-old white boy at a rugby match in U mtata. Newspapers reported that during the match an African police sergeant had asked the boy to sit down. A disagreement ensued. Ngobe claimed that "the child followed behind the sergeant making fun of him calling him a kaffir policeman." The boy's father denied that his son had said anything and stated: "Brig. Ngobe jumped up and shouted, 'You are trying to make a fool of my policeman.' He hit [the boy] hard in the face with his open hand. When I went towards [the boy] the Brigadier shouted at me, 'I will kick you and your son to death, you swine."'57 The boy's father took up the matter with South Africa's ambassador to Transkei and laid a charge of assault against Brigadier Ngobe. The white regional magistrate found Ngobe guilty and sentenced him to ten days' imprisonment or a fine ofR10. 58 Ngobe appealed the conviction, but after a six-month delay it was upheld. An African lawyer, telling me about the incident, said, The boy had been cheeky and the Brigadier just tapped him. There was no force. The assault was so minor that the boy did not go to the doctor until four days after the event, and then he went to a white private physician rather than the district medical officer, who was an African, for filing the medical report. Minor assault cases of this kind are usually dismissed after payment of a RS fine at the magistrate's level, but this case was taken to the regional court where important cases are tried ... and they admitted the medical report from the private white physician.

In substance, the incident was not a serious one. The boy was not hit hard and was not at all hurt. Apparently, he had been abusive and These incidents were related to me by a local African lawyer. Daily Dispatch, 22 and 25 August 1977. 58 /mvo Transkei, 3 December 1977. 56

57

[101]

Dismantling Apartheid

provocative. But at stake here was the relative social position of the two groups. Were whites to remain the dominant group, or were Africans now socially dominant? The white community pressed the case to clarifY the fact that whites were still dominant. From their point of view, even the head of the police in "independent" Transkei should not be allowed to challenge this basic social reality. The Africans tried to make a social point too: namely, that apartheid in Umtata was finished; Mricans were no longer subordinate. The outcome speaks for itself.

[102]

[4] Political Dominance

Mr. George Cooper, a senior civil servant of long standing in Umtata, asserted: "Blacks have always had a say, even though there was no black representation on council. First, there was the N gangelizwe township board, which was elected annually and which was an advisory board to council. Though it was not obliged to, the council usually accepted their recommendations. The second advisory board was for the rest of town. It was composed of two representatives from the Norwood Ratepayers Association, two Coloreds and two from council" (interview). Cooper was referring to the fact that even during classical apartheid, political dominance in Umtata had always involved a small element of dominant-subordinate group dialogue and racial bargaining. Africans had a voice on some issues and some influence in municipal government. The truth in Cooper's overstatement is that dominant and elite groups are not omnipotent. There is an interdependent relationship between dominant and subordinate groups and between elites and non-elites in which the actions of one group impact on the options open to the other. Their interests and actions sometimes converge, sometimes diverge. The relative power of dominant and elite groups is therefore always changing, if only in relation to subordinate and nonelite groups' acquiescence. In practice, of course, dominant group power in Umtata was nearly absolute. Only its members voted; only they were elected; only they made decisions. But the dominant power structure appreciated the necessity of maintaining political contact with the Africans. The institu[103]

Dismantling Apartheid

tionalized instrument created for such communication was the advisory board. This was not intended to be a representative body; it was simply an efficient instrument of dominant group administration. Nevertheless, the fact of its existence resulted in a kind of political dialogue. Africans did not regard this situation as "having a say." Looking back on the old structure Jabulani Mkwayi, Umtata's first African mayor, recalled, "The Ngangelizwe Advisory Board existed solely to advise .... Town Council followed some of the recommendations, but not all." A local political activist was much more judgmental: "Ninety-five percent of the time, Town Council rejected the recommendations of the Ngangelizwe Township Board, [and] residents lost confidence in it .... they regarded the members as puppets, stooges" (interviews). The transformation of Umtata's municipal government focuses our attention on the role of dominant elites in the management of social change. We see that the direction and speed of change can be influenced by controlling the society's norms and values and institutions. It shows that culture, ideology, and manipulation of the prevailing world view can perpetuate dominant group privilege even after strict apartheid has been abandoned. In short, it underscores the inexorable link between social change and social control. Following such theorists as Pareto, Mosca, and Michels, C. W. Mills's classic study The Power Elite (1956) pioneered the study of contemporary social elites. Though there have been a number of subse. quent studies in the United States and Britain, there are only a few similar studies by anthropologists in Africa. Abner Cohen's Politics of Elite Culture (1966) is one of the best of these. Both Mills and Cohen discuss elite groups' continuous manipulation of social forces in pursuit of their economic and political interests. Elites simultaneously pursue universalistic and particularistic roles, using what Cohen aptly describes as "cultural performances." On the one hand, they try to satisfY their obligations as guardians and controllers of the public welfare; on the other, they actively promote their own sectional interests. Because the universalistic and particularistic roles can be antithetical at times, elites utilize symbolic forms, ideology, and "techniques of mystification" to mask the conflict, directing the public's attention only to their universalistic roles. While Mills and Cohen discuss elites' management of social affairs, they do not sufficiently address the question of social change. Yet as already noted, the relationship between elites and non-elites, and between dominant and subordinate groups, is dynamic. The degree to [104]

Political Dominance

which elites can favor their particularistic interests is always changing. Furthermore, the broader process of shaping and reshaping a society's norms, values, priorities, and world view is continuous. With dominant groups and elites so firmly in control, then, how does change occur? The following material on municipal government in Umtata shows that during the days of classical apartheid the dominant elite could blatantly pursue its particularistic, sectional interests. In its dealings with the subordinate group, it paid only minimal attention to the common good. When structural change was imposed, however, the ruling elite had to appeal to more broadly based, universalistic interests in order to obtain popular concurrence with its continuing leadership. To do so, it quickly revised its value system, promoting nonracialism, merit, experience, and competence. The elite even undermined the entrenched system of racial stratification-now seeing it as a liability-in favor of "class" factors. The particularistic interest, of course, was to ensure their place at the apex of the emerging social order.

Town Council

The enlarged Town Council that took office in 1977 was the first to include Africans elected to membership. The biracial group sat alternately-African, white, African, white-around the chamber table, with a prominent African lawyer in the chair. He was Umtata's first African mayor. The seating arrangement deliberately symbolized the multiracial character of the new governing group. The council saw itself as "an example to people everywhere of how men of different colour, creed and social background can work together in harmony for the greater good of the community." 1 Municipal government in Umtata had followed the pattern of other towns in the Cape Province. The all-white electorate chose a voluntary council of eight, which served as the legislative body. It met twice monthly. The administration of municipal affairs, however, was conducted by full-time, paid civil servants-headed by a town clerk1 Mayoral Minute, 1977-78, p. 42. In fact, this U mtata Town Council was probably the first multiracial body to be elected anywhere in South Mrica. Its support for nonracialism in town was explicit. At various points in its proceedings, approving references were made to the multiracial composition of the country club and to the atmosphere of multiracialism in Umtata.

[105]

Dismantling Apartheid

organized in the five departments of the town treasurer, the town engineer, electrical utilities, public health, and Bantu administration. The council subdivided itself into working committees that corresponded to the administrative departments. Each committee met periodically with the town clerk and the respective department head. For many decades, English-speaking settlers ran the town through these structures. The elite circle was small; between 1972 and 1974, four of the eight council members received certificates honoring their twenty years in municipal service. Some families appeared and reappeared on the council. 2 The most illustrative case is the Leath family, which owned a number of businesses throughout the Cape, including a hotel syndicate. Charles Leath, who founded the business empire, received a certificate of merit for twenty years of council service; during the 1940s he was mayor, and in the 1960s he was chairman of the Non-European Affairs Committee. Charles resigned from council in 1968. In that same year his son David was elected to the council and appointed chairman of the Non-European Affairs Committee. David was elected mayor in 1974-75, and after independence he continued to serve on the biracial council, being appointed chairman of the allimportant Finance Committee. 3 Together, the Leaths were on the Town Council for thirty-five years. Continuity of a select elite was even more characteristic of U mtatis all-white civil service. The town clerk who retired in 1976 had been in the municipal administration for forty-four years, and his replacement had been in municipal service for seventeen years. The new deputy town clerk had previously held the posts of municipal labor officer and manager of the Bantu Administration Department, working for the municipality for a total of fourteen years. Typical of the pattern, the town treasurer joined the municipality as a clerk in 1936 but left in 1939 at the outbreak of World War II. He went into business upon his return to Umtata but served as a town councillor from 1947 until1953, was elected deputy mayor in 1950 and mayor in 1952, was appointed 2 The mayor during the 1972-73 civic year, Mrs. S. M. Nepkin, was the daughter-inlaw of a town councillor who had been mayor in 1933-34 (Mayoral Minute, 1972-73). 3 In 1976 David Leath was one of the three Liaison Committee members who petitioned Pretoria to retain more white privileges (minutes of a special council meeting, held 18 March 1976, to consider "the memorandum from the Department of Bantu Administration and Development on the future position of the white-controlled Transkeian municipalities and of the white municipal staff").

[106]

Political Dominance

assistant town treasurer in 1967 and treasurer in 1976, remaining in that post until his retirement in 1982. 4 These white councillors and administrators ran the town and managed relations with Umtata's Africans. As noted earlier, these relations were characterized by political cooperation as well as political conflict. Conflict was of course endemic because of apartheid, but cooperation was also present because the two groups lived symbiotically. The fact that some racial cooperation was essential to the town's well-being is seen in the nurturing of African-white political linkages by Umtata's elite. They adopted a paternalistic posture and refused to cede any power but consciously massaged their relationships with the Africans. "The Ngangelizwe Advisory Board has been an indispensable institution, without which the proper and peaceful administration of the township would be impossible," wrote a senior official in 1973. "A very intimate relationship exists between the council and the advisory board and the council regards the advisory board with the highest esteem."5 In 1970, tacitly acknowledging its role in the maintenance of white dominance, another official praised the advisory board in these words: "Bearing in mind . . . that it is not possible for the officials of this department to know most of them personally anymore, the advisory board is today providing a more important function than it has ever done before."6 And again, in a typical annual report several years later the Municipal Bantu Administration Department reported: "It is difficult to express adequately the gratitude due to the Bantu township advisory board for the support and guidance rendered. It is trusted that in the new dispensation this institution will be continued and expanded. This department cannot recall any instance of it having submitted a problem to the advisory board in vain." 7 These positive senMayoral Minute, 1981-82, p. 23. Letter from Manager, Municipal Bantu Administration Department, to prospective board member, 9 November 1973. 6 Mayoral Minute, 1970-71, report of Municipal Bantu Administration Department. 7 Mayoral Minute, 1973-74, report of Municipal Bantu Administration Department. The Mayoral Minu~ of 1972-73 had commented, "The Bantu township advisory board has once again conducted itself in an exemplary manner. In addition to attending efficiently to the trivialities of their functions, the members of the board have kept fully informed of the council's negotiations with the department of Bantu Administration (Pretoria) which must, at this stage, except for the briefest outlines ... be kept 'in committee.' That they have kept this trust even under great pressure is a matter worthy of congratulation and of the highest esteem." 4

5

[107]

Dismantling Apartheid

timents no doubt were genuine. Subordinate group cooperation is always indispensable to dominant group success. 8 A system of district advisory councils was introduced into western Pondoland in 1911 and into eastern Pondoland in 1927 (Hunter 1961, 430). Prior to this time, "the whole work of assisting the Native to rise had been done by the European." For purposes of political control, in the new system "the Native was called upon for direct cooperation in all measures that affect his welfare." The advisory councils selected members to sit on a territorial advisory body called the "Bunga." "These Councils ... are in an advisory capacity to the Administration, associating the people with the control of funds, giving them a voice in affairs intimately affecting them. The system trains the Natives to constitutional methods of expressing their wishes and keeps the Government and its officers immediately in touch with Native feelings" (Souvenir Brochure, 1932: 29). The structure of all the councils was the same. Mricans selected representatives to participate in a body that debated Mrican matters, though it had little or no power; the chairman was always a white administrator. The administration exercised the right to appoint its own Mrican delegates, and the government retained the power to act or not act on the body's recommendations. Urban advisory groups were used during this period too. East London had a Native Advisory Board composed of six elected Mricans and three appointed by the all-white Town Council. The location superintendent, who had no special training and who reported to the council, was the ex-officio chairman. The board had no power (Hunter, 1961: 469). 9 Such groups were the model. In Umtata, because the location was called Ngangelizwe, the Mrican advisory board was referred to as the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board.l 0 Elections for the board were held annually. To stand for office, one had to be nominated by ten eligible voters. Board members received no remuneration. Voters generally took their pass books and most recent rent receipts for identification at 8 See Minute of August 1976, "Cooperation between Council and Advisory Board," in records of the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board. 9 In East London there was a European-Bantu Joint Council, which discussed European-Bantu relations (Hunter, 1936: 464). 10 The vast majority of the African population-about 11,000 in 1974-resided in Ngangelizwe, located about one mile from town and, characteristically, having one access road.

[108]

Political Dominance

the polls. The advisory board held monthly meetings in the offices of the local labor bureau. The issues it considered mostly had to do with bread-and-butter questions of living conditions (de Jongh, 1990: 65). For instance, until the mid-1970s only a few communal taps provided water in the location; there was bucket sewage, few street lights, and electricity to only one point in the township. The board constantly pressed for "the establishment of a creche [day-care center], the establishment of a road safety committee, the establishment of TB caregroups, . . . the institution of postal deliveries . . . the name and marking of all streets, the establishment of a public telephone, the obtaining of a separate nightsoil unit . . . improvement in the bus service." 11 Politically, the board functioned largely as an instrument of social control. Not only was it purely advisory, but two of its six members were appointed by the all-white Town Council. The remaining four members, elected by Ngangelizwe residents, "are of course invaluable as they provide a good thermometer for measuring current public opinion," argued a municipal official, but "the electorate do not ... always return candidates who are well educated and able to understand such matters as the estimates of income and expenditures for the Bantu Revenue account .... the council has therefore always appointed two well educated men to the advisory board in order to insure that a certain intellectual standard is maintained." 12 Strict control over the board was maintained as well. 13 First of all, on the instructions of the Town Council, the board was confined to considering only those matters that had specifically to do with N gangelizwe; it could not address any other aspect of municipal affairs. Second, though he was a nonvoting member, the advisory board's chairman was always the white councillor in charge of the Town Council's Non-European Affairs Committee. As with similar bodies elsewhere in South Africa, before each meeting the advisory board members submitted an agenda for his approval (de Jongh, 1990: 55). Moreover, the deputy chairman Minutes, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, 18 September 1967. Letter of 9 November 1973 from Manager, Municipal Bantu Administration Department. Some Africans were apparently unaware of the social control purposes of this practice. Despite years oflittle turnover in the board membership, one former member told me, "The practice of appointing two members was to keep some continuity." 13 Similary de Jongh notes with respect to the Joint Bantu Advisory Board for the townships of Port Elizabeth, "procedure and debate during the meeting itself were conducted strictly according to the western norm of committee procedures" (1990: 55). 11

12

[109]

Dismantling Apartheid

and secretary to the board, also nonvoting, was always the manager of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department. This white leadership, the council's power of appointment, and the board's "advisory" status constituted the formula for political domination. The dominant group pursued its sectional interests while using the advisory board for a variety of social control purposes. In pursuing particularistic ends, the dominant group faced dilemmas of antithetical needs. For instance, it needed to know the subordinate group's true attitudes and opinions in order to make informed decisions. 14 At the same time, to maintain control, it objected whenever the board acted as a "political" voice for the subordinate Africans because the dominant group could not allow its authority to be challenged. Thus the conflicting objectives of hearing what Africans had to say and keeping them from speaking their minds were constantly present in the management of the "advisory" system. Advisory board resolutions were sometimes accepted by the council, sometimes not. The key to council approval seems to have been the positions of the chairman of the Non-European Affairs Committee and the manager of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department. In fact, the latter often directed his own memoranda to council. The following exerpts from a 1971 municipal report reveal the council's sensibilities and show one of the ways the board was used. Mr. Gwala's attendance during two terms has been bad. Unless a mere "yes man" is required, this department cannot believe that Mr. Gwala would be an asset to the board .... Mr. Mhlaba, besides being a very active member who usually has the most items on the agenda, is very influential in the "back location" where, probably because the services are worst of all there, the residents show a much greater interest in local politics than in any other section of the Bantu township. The candidate from the "back location" usually tops the poll. It is therefore strongly recommended that Mr. Mhlaba be appointed .... Mr. Lekota has the reputation with the press of being the most outspoken and anti-council member. That he is outspoken is true and that he was anti-council when he was first elected is also true. He is, however, an intelligent man and has changed his attitude towards council very considerably. He has in fact developed into a very good advisory board member who treats everything on its merits and whose criticisms are well-founded and con14 Hunter (1936: 432) notes that the discussions of the advisory Bunga were "useful as an expression of Bantu opinion."

[110]

Political Dominance

structive. That he is reputed to be anti-council is so much the better because council is now afforded the opportunity of demonstrating that it prefers an independent minded board to a "rubber stamp," provided that the members are not extremists. Even in the beginning, Mr. Lekota, although antagonistic, was never an extremist. In any case, an advisory board which is a mere "rubber stamp" will not serve any really useful purpose. This matter has, naturally, been discussed with the chairman of the advisory board, Cr. David Leath, who agrees that Mr. Harrison Lekota should be appointed. 15

The advisory board performed its social control functions well. An instance of its providing valuable information on African opinion occurred in 1975. To offset financial difficulties, the council proposed that additional revenue be generated by increasing rents in the township. 16 A similar proposal made three years earlier had been rejected because of "powerful socio-political forces mitigating against [increased rentals] until such time as substantial material improvements have been made." 17 This time too the advisory board objected to the proposed increases on the grounds that the roads were bad, the water services were poor, and other essential amenities were lacking. It argued that fees should not be increased until these conditions had been remedied. The board noted that the residents of N gangelizwe had "patiently borne with council," but there had been no action. To impose increases now, they cautioned, would cause serious discontent, because there are "still too many legitimate complaints." 18 Heeding this advice, the council did not impose the new charges. The advisory board's input 15 Minute dated 1 September 1971, from Manager, Municipal Bantu Administration Department to Town Council. Four years later, the same official wrote: "This office would like to recommend Mr. A, a well educated man of apparently high intelligence. Last year he was a candidate for election as one of the 'opposition party' whose election campaign had an 'anti-council' and 'council's uneducated stooges' theme. The council, however, has never desired that the advisory board should be constituted entirely of 'yes men' and has previously appointed hostile persons to good advantage" (confidential note re: advisory board appointments, 1975). 16 The proposed schedule would have made the following increases per month: residential sites, from R2 to R4; single rooms, from Rl.30 to R2; two-room cottages, from R2 to R3; three-room cottages, from R4.50 to R5; trading sites, from R4 to R6; lodgers' fees, from R0.30 to R0.40. 17 Mayoral Minute, 1971-72, report of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department. 18 Minutes, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, 22 January 1975. The manager of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department made the same recommendation, citing the same reasons.

[111]

Dismantling Apartheid

directed it away from actions that could have ignited African dissension. On other occasions the advisory board acted as a direct arm of the Town Council. Members were known, for instance, to inform police of shebeens (the equivalent of speakeasies) in the township so they could be raided. The board's minutes say that the group considered shebeens bad for community morals. The board also assisted in predawn raids to uncover illegal lodgers in the location. Dawn "inspections" were an established mechanism of ferreting out people who were in violation of the influx restrictions and Pass Laws. In 1975, with rumors spreading about independence, rumor also had it that dawn raids were being discontinued. In its role as a channel of communication to the dominant group, the board raised the matter with the manager of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department. The manager confided that though there had been no official discontinuance, and though this was "not intended for public knowledge," he had deemed it wise to "quietly discontinue the raids." The board expressed concern about impending events; one member argued for one more raid "to give the lie to the person who had spoken out of turn." 19 The Town Council could also use the advisory board to implement politically sensitive tasks. Allocating housing in the township was a case in point. The land and some houses in Ngangelizwe were owned by the municipality, which leased them to Africans. By 1976, 4,000 people were on the waiting list for houses, whereas vacancies were occurring at about 150 per year. In anticipation of independence, the South African government was building new houses, but half of them were being reserved for the new African civil servants. As allegations of favoritism abounded, it proved very useful for the authorities to delegate responsibility for thorny issues such as these to the advisory board. Nevertheless, as part of the racial bargaining that was submerged in apartheid, the advisory board could sometimes function as the genuine advocate of the subordinate community, asserting an independence that influenced the political outcome. 20 In 1966, for instance, the board 19 Minutes, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board meeting, 13 May 1975, and 17 September 1975. 20 The fact that bodies instituted by whites could act in the interests of Africans is seen in Hunter's (1936: 433) comment: "The Bunga, although an institution of European introduction, is not in conflict with the old system of administration, and it provides a mechanism by which chiefs and councillors of several tribes may combine to deal with present-day problems of administration. The fact that through it improvements in agriculture, education, health, and communications are being effected by the Bantu community itself is the most encouraging feature of the present political organization."

[112]

Political Dominance

adopted resolutions attacking the chairman of the Non-European Affairs Committee for neglecting the African community. It petitioned council to replace him with someone who would take a greater interest. The matter was dropped by the council, but in 1967 the advisory board issued a public statement repeating its complaints and requests. 21 The deputy chairman scolded the board, complaining that certain resolutions appeared to have been taken with more regard to the sensational press reports which were expected to follow and to enhance the public reputation of some board members, while the genuine interest of the people and the board were subordinated to such considerations .... The continuation of the attack on the chairman of the nonEuropean affairs committee . . . would serve no other purpose than to create sensational press reports and to seriously impair the cooperation, mutual respect and relationship between the board and the council. 22

Undaunted, however, the Africans raised the matter the following month, on the occasion of the mayor's visit to the board meeting. The board spokesman "thanked his worship the mayor for attending, saying that he had come as a 'peacemaker' between men of all races, but that the board was dissatisfied with the treatment it had, to date, received at the hands of the council. He said that council took so little interest in their affairs that the chairman did not attend their meetings." The acting chairman responded immediately, saying he was distressed that the matter of the chairman of the non-European affairs committee had again been raised. He said that, to the best of his knowledge, the chairman of the non-European affairs committee had never been appointed as chairman of the advisory board .... His worship the mayor stated that he could not remain at the meeting unless Mr. Cwele withdrew his remarks .... Mr. Cwele stated that it would then appear that council had so little interest in the board's affairs that a chairman was not appointed. . . . His worship the mayor again demanded that Mr. Cwele withdraw his remarks. 23

This exchange reveals some of the dynamic dominant-subordinate bargaining in Umtata politics. The board had a valid point and, in expressing it so forcefully, assumed a quasi-political role on behalf of the subordinate Africans. The chairman of the Non-European Affairs ComDaily Dispatch, 20 September 1967. Minutes, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, 18 September 1967. 23Jbid., 19 October 1967.

21

22

[113]

Dismantling Apartheid

mittee had not attended an advisory board meeting for over four years, despite the fact that he was its chairman. For its part, the dominant elite objected in principle to the board's acting as the mouthpiece for subordinate group interests. Such behavior seemed to challenge the established roles and relationships. From the councillors' point of view, the merits of particular cases were not as important as having the subordinate group constantly acknowledge the status differential. Furthermore, the individual under attack was Charles Leath, the town's leading businessman and a Town Council member for over twenty years. Even publicly censuring him, not to mention replacing him, at the insistence of the subordinate group was unthinkable. It is noteworthy, and perhaps not entirely coincidental, that Leath resigned from the council before the next election-though his son David was elected and replaced his father as chairman of the Non-European Affairs Committee. In a 1970 instance of the board's bargaining on behalf of Africans, Harrison Lekota, the most outspoken of the advisory board members, complained about the high cost of living and the low wages paid by the municipality to its African employees. He proposed that council be requested to increase all African wages. Once again resisting the board's functioning as a political voice for the African community, the manager of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department "pointed out that Mr. Lekota was out of order, as the advisory board's function was only to advise the council on matters relating to the administration of the Bantu township, and not on municipal affairs in general. The chairman ruled accordingly." Persisting, the advisory board adopted a modified recommendation, "that the wages of the Bantu municipal employees who are employed by the municipal Bantu administration department and who are paid out of the Bantu revenue account, be increased." 24 Apparently, the council took no action. Low wages remained a paramount concern in the African community and the advisory board spoke out frequently on the subject. Two years later, another resolution asked the Town Council to "investigate what steps could be taken to effect a general wage increase for Bantu workers in Umtata," arguing that larger towns in South Africa had a wage determination board and inquiring whether such a board could be established in U mtata. 25 The council included two of the town's largest 24

Ibid., 17 November 1970.

25

Daily Dispatch, 21 July 1972. [114]

Political Dominance

private employers, Charles Leath and Martin Johns. An across-theboard increase in African wages was not in dominant group interests generally and certainly not in the interests of major employers. In this case, however, the authorities felt it wise to cede to the subordinate group demands. The council increased the wages of its employees but continued vigorously to oppose a political role for the advisory board, contending that to act as a trade union for Bantu workers was not in the board's jurisdiction. 2 6 Though they permitted political dialogue and political cooperation, the advisory structures prevented Africans from having an effective political voice. Quite apart from externally imposed constraints, the board members could not build a solid political base in the African community because there was no regular contact with Ngangelizwe residents. Public meetings, which the board sometimes wanted to hold, were strongly discouraged by the council. Board members thus found it difficult to project themselves as political leaders or to develop a political power base. Not surprisingly, the African community had little interest in a board that merely advised the council. Consequently, on occasion, fewer than four people stood for the board's four elected seats. In these cases, the dominant elite simply appointed representatives, who were then "deemed to have been elected."27 To offset the limitations on their power, board members could increase their influence by making statements to the press. At one meeting in 1967, for example, the board wanted an open discussion of the problems of postal deliveries and public transport. When the chairman ruled that the matters be discussed in camera, one member of the board "objected strongly, saying that he intended to make a full statement to the press." Later, the board's secretary "criticized Mr. Cwele for continually making statements on key issues to the press. Mr. Cwele replied that he would continue to make public statements as he saw fit, but that he would make it clear that he spoke for himself, not the advisory board." Indeed, Mr. Cwele did continue to address the 26 Mayoral Minute, 1971-72, report of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department. 27 Minute, 21 September 1971, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board records. A 1975 notice similarly notified the board that "the registered occupiers ofNgangelizwe having failed to duly nominate and elect the required number of members, the Umtata Town Council has appointed the following persons as members of the N gangalizwe township advisory board for the period 1 October, 1975 to 30 September, 1976 and that they are deemed to have been elected."

[115]

Dismantling Apartheid

press and to criticize the council for such matters as not paving the roads. 28 Though the Mricans were completely dominated, then, they were not always passive. Not only did board members speak up from time to time, but the Ngangelizwe residents themselves, on one occasion at least, tried to install a more representative board, as Mr. Mbuli Tshabalala (not a board member), recounted to me: For more than two decades, the member of council who was responsible for non-European affairs was the chairman of the advisory board. There was no campaigning until after 1963. Before that time, prominent people in the location were simply approached by council to stand. For fifteen years the same people served. This group was challenged once, about 1968. The problem was that the majority of site owners were illiterate, rural people. They didn't clamor for amenities. There was no electricity. People were using the river as their water source. Sanitation, transport, street lights-these were all nonexistent. But the people were used to rural life. Council took advantage of that. It turned down all requests to improve conditions on the grounds that it had insufficient funds. A group of young, educated people who knew the duties of Town Council once campaigned against the old-timers who were always returned unopposed. This group developed a manifesto concerning the poor conditions. It promised to fight for lighting, water reticulation, clinics, schools, kindergardens, and so on. It also wanted to declare the entire area a slum; then the health section could raise funds for improvements. The district surgeon supported them in this. The old-timers didn't have a manifesto. They said the challengers were young delinquents, tsotsis, who were causing friction between blacks and whites. The youth were accused of being foreigners, not born and raised in Umtata. The challengers lost the election, and no one stood against this group again. The residents gradually lost all confidence in the advisory board. The members were regarded as puppets, stooges. The Transkei Township Board said it was going to take over from the advisory board, giving the Ngangelizwe residents direct representation. So don't worry, they said, the Ngangeliizwe board will be dissolved. Pretoria wanted to do away with the advisory boards. But it never happened. Then came independence. [Interview] After the 1974 announcement of upcoming Transkei independence, interest in advisory board elections reportedly increased. Maybe Mri28

Minutes, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, 19 October 1967 and 17 November 1970;

Daily Dispatch, ll May 1973. [116]

Political Dominance

cans sensed that they were about to acquire a new political identity. In any case, seven people stood for election in a contest very similar to the one Mr. Tshabalala reported: the old-timers were challenged by the youth. The main issues were the unsatisfactory living conditions in Ngangelizwe, the lack of water, sanitation, street lights, roads, transportation. 29 At this time there were 11,000 residents in Ngangelizwe. In the highest poll since 1966 the four successful candidates-the old-timersreceived 352, 299, 286, and 271 votes respectively. There were, however, allegations of interference by whites: "certain clerical and police staff" were said to have behaved in a manner "calculated to influence voters." The white returning officer, in particular, was accused of irregular conduct. 30 The announcement ofTranskei independence realigned the political interests of the dominant group in U mtata. With "one man, one vote" the new rule in municipal politics, it would no longer be possible to dominate the Africans by denying them a political voice. In fact, the Africans would have control at the ballot box and the potential to seize power in the municipality. The dominant elite rallied to retain as much power as possible by utilizing its ability to manipulate the change process. In short, they changed the nature of the political game. They initiated a multiracial political coalition. Previously, of course, race had been the sole determinant of one's role in municipal affairs, and the dominant group had vigorously opposed changes in this system. Under a one-man, one-vote and majorityrule system, however, a racial determination of political role would put the dominant group in a greatly disadvantageous position as the numerically smaller "race." For this reason, the dominant elite hastily joined forces with those who had always objected to the use of race as the key factor in town politics. In this new context, the dominant group aggressively promoted the norms of merit and multiracialism. Their new criteria for exercising power played down race and elevated experience, knowledge, and competence-all standards that gave them substantial advantages. Though presented as being in the common good, these norms were supported only when they served the sectional interests of the dominant elite. The processes of social segmentation began, initiated and led by the dominant elite. Both dominant and subordinate elites moved some29 30

Minutes, Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, 19 September 1974. Ibid., 15 October 1974; Daily Dispatch, 20 and 23 September 1974.

[117]

Dismantling Apartheid

what away from their racial constituencies in order to recognize some of their common class interests. The town's political leadership was redefined. In contrast to previous practice, the dominant elite now accepted subordinate group participation in all municipal matters. Political identities, and hence social identities, were being changed. New roles for subordinate group members emerged and, with them, new relationships with the dominant group. All this of course was necessary if the dominant group was to retain any power at all. Taking a first step toward political restratification, in November 1975 the Town Council asked the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board and the African Ratepayers Association (discussed later) each to place two "observers" on the council. 31 Four months later the council asked the South African government to increase its legal membership to twelve and to allow the four new seats to be filled by Africans. 32 The council argued that since independence was coming, Africans needed experience in municipal government. The effort failed, however, because Pretoria refused to bend the law prohibiting Africans from serving as local government councillors. Given the previous political linkages, it is not at all surprising that the dominant elite looked immediately to the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board as a place to begin negotiating with the subordinate Africans. The overtures to the African Ratepayers Association are significant, however, because they signaled the conscious injection of class factors into U mtata's political stratification. The process was directed and monitored by the established elite, which asserted its role of formulating and articulating the values and norms for the society as a whole. In so doing, it was able to protect its position of privilege and political dominance. As in Kenya and Southern Rhodesia, "the white community's ... power to shape and control social identity, to determine the distinctions between themselves and others, was crucial to ... predominance" (Kennedy, 1987: 189). U mtata had a very small African middle class, composed mainly of doctors, lawyers, business people, and teachers. 33 Whites regarded this group as the most "advanced" of the African community and had 31 Mr. Lekota and Mr. Ngobo were nominated by the Advisory Board, Mr. Mkwayi and Mr. Duke by the Ratepayers Association. 32 Minutes of a special council meeting ... 1976 Three Africans were to be nominated by the African Ratepayers Association and one by the N gangelizwe Advisory Board; they were to represent Norwood, Ncambedlana, the town, and Ngangelizwe respectively. 33 Class differentiation among Africans was present also in other South African towns. Adam, (1971: 171) refers to a twofold class structure of a middle and lower class. Others, he says, postulate a fourfold stratification, " ... an elite composed of the small group of

[ll8]

Political Dominance

always had some informal interaction with it. Many members of this middle class did not reside in Ngangelizwe. The Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, therefore, did not provide political communication with them. Consequently, when the time came to negotiate, the dominant elite reached out to the subordinate elite through its corporate body, the African Ratepayers Association. The African Ratepayers Association was first formed in the 1940s; it broke up and was re-formed in the 1950s. 34 1ts raison d'etre was to give a voice to Africans who lived in the municipality rather than in the location. In the 1950s there were less than a hundred members, almost all of whom lived in Ncambedlana, formerly a white area and the only area where Africans were allowed to own property on a freehold basis. 35 In 1965, Norwood, an Umtata suburb, was zoned black, and Africans began to buy and rent there. In 1977, when membership in the Ratepayers Association had reached two hundred, Africans in Norwood made up about 25 percent. For most of its existence, the influence of the African Ratepayers Association was negligible. Neither Norwood nor Ncambedlana was contiguous to "town," nor were they contiguous to each other, though unlike Ngangelizwe, they were legally part of the municipality. The physical location of these suburbs, as well as their racial composition, meant that they had difficulty obtaining satisfactory services. Until 1972, when the Cape authorities limited the municipal vote to people on the national voters' roll, African ratepayers could vote in Town Council elections. They could not themselves be elected, however, and their numbers were so small that they were ignored politically. During the early stage of transition, Umtata's dominant elite had no intention of yielding to a simple majority-rule system of one person, one vote. In part, forging links with the subordinate elite was a deliberate step toward curtailing the political power of the African "masses." Being satisfied to share in the rewards of the existing system, members of the subordinate elite were less likely to demand radical changes in the system of allocating rewards. Sensing this, the dominant elite leading professionals and the few wealthy traders forming an apex distinct from the remainder of the educated and better off section; and a working class consisting of the semi-skilled and the unskilled workers." 34There was also a white Ratepayers Association. 35 A resident of long standing told me, "Thirty or forty years ago, whites in Ncambedlana began selling homes to the small African middle class .... In the 1950's, only three black families lived 'in town."'

[119]

Dismantling Apartheid

wanted more representation on Town Council from the African Ratepayers Association than from the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board-as shown by the fact that the petition urging Pretoria to allow four African councillors specified that three of these would be nominated by the Ratepayers Association. Moreover, as a means of diluting the overall African vote and the non-elite African vote in particular, just months before independence the Town Council proposed the establishment of a ward system. This scheme would have divided the town into four wards-the western half, the eastern half, Norwood and Ncambedlana, and Nganglizweeach ward to elect two councillors. 36 This formula would have brought the subordinate group only to political parity with the dominant group, since residential segregation would have ensured that two wards would be controlled by whites. Furthermore, the African masses in Ngangelizwe would have had only the same representation as the minute African middle class in Norwood and Ncambedlana. The plan failed because the South African government rejected the ward system. Meanwhile, the council continued to function with eight elected whites and four African observers. Municipal elections would normally have been held in September 1976, but owing to the establishment of independence in October 1976 and the problems of transition, those elections were postponed until September 1977. To resolve the observer issue, in late 1976 the Transkei minister oflocal government and land tenure appointed two of the observers to the seats of two retiring white councillors and expanded the council's membership to ten to permit the appointment of the other two observers. This transitional council, composed of six whites and four Africans, served for about nine months while preparations were made for Umtata's first nonracial municipal elections. The Ngangelizwe Advisory Board was disbanded. The town clerk prepared a preliminary nonracial voters' roll containing 4, 794 registered voters, about 60 percent African, and opened it for public inspection. 37 Eligibility for the new roll was extended to property owners, property occupiers of at least twelve months, and their wives. Voters had to be over eighteen years old. These were also the qualifications for standing for election. Candidate nominations were required to be supported by the signatures of two eligible voters. 36

37

Daily Dispatch, 8 March 1976. Daily Dispatch, 7 September 1977; Mayoral Minute, 1977-78, p. 2. [120]

Political Dominance

The Trusted Ten

A group known as the Trusted Ten replaced the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board as the town's forum for political dialogue and cooperation. Its composition reflected the social restratification and African embourgeoisement that characterized the entire change process. But the Trusted Ten was also an instrument of continuing social control by the dominant group. As Mr. Ncgobo, a former Advisory Board member, admitted: The Trusted Ten was formed to help those people who couldn't readthey could go along on one card. It was formed by a caucus of previous counciUors. The idea was that whites needed black votes and blacks needed white votes. The caucus was formed after all of the nominations were known. People were matched up. There were to be six blacks, four whites-three blacks from Ngangelizwe, four whites from town, two blacks from town, one black from Norwood and Ncambedlana. . . . However, the former white mayor, Hubert Anderson, and the representative from Ncambedlana dropped out. They replaced the white with a white and couldn't find another black, so they also replaced a black with a white. The last white was Chapman. [Interview]

Mr. Harvey West provided additional insights into these events. Unlike South Mrica, there never has been party voting in Umtata. Everyone ran as an individual. There was no platform. The 1977 elections were the first where there were groupings-tickets. But still there were no issues. Voting was on a personal basis .... It was the Trusted Ten versus the other group. Both stood as groups. The candidates campaigned alone but supported the others on the ticket. ... The Trusted Ten were generally regarded as the center party, favoring a multiracial council. The others were anti-white. They wanted no whites on council. The Trusted Ten campaigned on the platform of experience. They said, "We have been on council or the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board for years.'" The other candidates had little education. They were carpenters, plumbers, and so on .... It got a little dirty at the end. One of the candidates hired a car with a loudspeaker the night before the election and cast personal attacks on some of the Trusted Ten. [Interview]

After so many years of powerlessness, there was strong sentiment in the subordinate communities for an all-black council. Debate about the role of whites was widespread. Leading the campaign for an all-black [121]

Dismantling Apartheid

council was a Colored homeopathic doctor, C. M. Manual. A friend recalled: Manual was a powerful speaker. He comes from a wealthy family. His father has a string of trading stations . . . . He was involved in public relations for the Colored Labor Party. Whites didn't like him. He was really anti-white and he had a large following-especially among Coloreds but even among blacks. (There's been no problem between blacks and Coloreds. There is intermarriage, and in Pondoland Coloreds live in the customary fashion. Xhosa is their home language. They don't speak Afrikaans.) ... Manual was not a resident or ratepayer in Umtata, so he couldn't stand for election; however, he influenced some other Coloreds to stand. He addressed a meeting at Ngangelizwe and developed a following among the blacks .... Manual had once opened a hospital at Mquanduli. Other doctors and whites attacked it. They called the government, arguing that he wasn't licensed to administer penicillin. 38

Harrison Lekota and Manual were the principal black leaders. Working together on behalf of U mtata's disenfranchised, they devised a formula to have six blacks and four whites on the council. "The four most acceptable white incumbents were identified, as were six blacks," reported Mr. Tshabalala. "Two blacks were to be from Ngangelizwe (from the Advisory Board), two from 'town' (from the Ratepayers Association), and there were to be two Coloreds. Word was sent around .... When the whites heard of this, they were scared. They started campaigning with influential blacks." Since race had been the only meaningful political variable, the segmenting criterion, the political collaboration of Africans and Coloreds was a product of apartheid. But the dominant group now wanted factors other than race to be the test for political leadership. Defining the issues in terms of their interests, they went on the offensive, arguing that "the town needs dedicated and experienced people in council matters." They made public appeals not to pack the council with Africans. 39 In reversing their former support for racial politics, the dominant elite appealed to universal norms. Experience, education, nonracialism were promoted as the only acceptable political values. 38 The government later clamped down on Manual. He was accused of posing as a medical practitioner. The medical association said he was exploiting people. Pressure was exerted from the Department of Health, and eventually Manual abandoned his practice. 39 Daily Dispatch, 25 August 1977.

[122]

Political Dominance

And, being dominant, they succeeded to a significant degree in redefining the town's political ideology. On the basis of these new political norms, the dominant elite brought the subordinate elite into a coalition and thereby ensured their own continued dominance of municipal politics. At a crucial point in the campaign the whites initiated conversations through the Ratepayers Association. Representatives of the dominant and subordinate elites met. David Leath, Anderson, and Johns were the whites in attendance. The Mricans were Mkwayi, Zachariah Mapongwana, Ncgobo, Lekota, and Bernard Zuma. Significantly, this meeting was deliberately timed to conflict with a previously scheduled meeting of the Mrican-Colored coalition. All the Mrican invitees attended the meeting. They accepted the dominant elite's appeals for unity, nonracialism, and merit. The dominant group was still dominant. It had been able to change the rules to suit its sectional purposes and was still able to impose its selfinterested values and norms on the community as a whole. The Trusted Ten was formed at this meeting, composed (as Mr. Ncgobo explained) of five Africans and five whites. The formation of the biracial group symbolized the relative decline of race and increased salience of class-related variables in U mtata's political stratification. Class was added to race as a principal criterion for Umtata's new political leadership. New patterns of relationships, obligations, and loyalties were created across racial boundaries. Most of the individuals who made up the Trusted Ten had interacted· in the old apartheid system. All five whites had been councillors of some standing. Three of the Africans had been members of the N gangelizwe Advisory Board. Patterns of authority and deference were already well established among them. Only two of the Africans were newcomers to the town's political institutions: one was an up-andcoming lawyer, and the other an administrator with strong entrepreneurial ambitions. Both newcomers could benefit from the resources controlled by the dominant elite. All the members of the Trusted Ten realized that they could use each other to further their individual interests. The dominant elite needed the subordinate elite to retain power. The subordinate elite needed the resources the dominant elite controlled. The common interest was the need for mutual cooperation. Consequently, racial differences and the history of apartheid were overlooked so that the Trusted Ten could mold itself into a new interest group. In coming together as a new corporate actor, across racial lines, the [123]

Dismantling Apartheid

Trusted Ten weakened the racial stratification patterns in Umtata. The group's very existence signaled the emergence of different political values, new political norms, and alternative criteria for political stratification. The restratification occurred relatively easily because the dominant group's status position was protected. Had restratification resulted in different "group positions," this sort of change would have been more fiercely resisted. By way of explanation of their part in the change, a member of the Trusted Ten said that Mrican leaders felt a need to keep some whites on the council "in order to gain experience." Furthermore, they reasoned, the town was completely dependent upon the white administrative staff: "If there was an all-black council, the heads of the [administrative] departments, who are white, would leave. They wouldn't want to be responsible to an all-black council." The point, however, is that in agreeing to unite with the dominant elite, the Mricans subscribed to many of the norms and values and the world view that supported continued white dominance. Said one official of the Mrican Ratepayers Association, who subscribed to the principles of nonracialism: Regarding the post-independence Town Council, the Ratepayers felt that all sectors of the population should be represented. Given the size of the black vote, they could have had an all-black council but felt it wouldn't be right. Also, they needed experience and knowhow. The Ratepayers decided to have a council of six blacks and four whites. But two of the designated blacks couldn't serve. One of the replacements was white, so the council is five blacks, five whites .... The group which ran against the Trusted Ten was composed of blacks and Coloreds. They felt that all along the non-whites hadn't had a fair deal and they didn't want to bring back the oppressors. [Interview]

Another person explained Mrican thinking in more succinct terms: "We wanted to be on the safe side." Some in the Mrican community, however, were not happy with the arrangement and labeled the Mricans who were involved "Uncle Toms." The Trusted Ten candidates were Arthur Chapman, Martin Johns, David Leath, Harrison Lekota, Zachariah Mapongwana, Jabulani S. Mkwayi, Tobias Ncgobo, Johannes Rudolph, Thomas Sparg, and Bernard Zuma. Dominant group interests were well represented in this coalition. All the whites had been elected members of the previous allwhite council. Chapman had been chairman of the Transkei Territories Civic Association and was secretary of the new Transkei White Citizens [124]

Political Dominance

Association. He had led the white delegation to the minister of the Bantu Administration Department in June 1976 to protest the government's plans for Transkei independence. Johns and Leath were leading businessmen and the town's leading private employers. Leath had been Umtata's mayor in 1974-75 and a member of the 1976 delegation led by Chapman. Sparg and Rudolph were relative newcomers to U mtata. Rudolph was a seconded official, employed by the Transkei Department Corporation. 40 He had served on Town Council since 1972. Lekota and Mapongwana were the veteran grassroots members of the N gangelizwe Advisory Board, and Lekota had the largest following of any African leader. But Mkwayi, Zuma, and Ncgobo were from the subordinate elite. Although he too had served on the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, Ncgobo had recently taken over a leading business, becoming one of the first Africans to operate a shop in downtown U mtata. Mkwayi was a lawyer and chairman of the Mrican Ratepayers Association. Zuma was the most senior African in a major parastatal corporation and, rumor had it, the likely next managing director. By no means did the dominant and subordinate elites constitute a social or economic class in the conventional sense. And apartheid remained so pervasive that race was still the predominant variable in politics, as in other aspects oflife in Umtata. The difference was that race was no longer the sole variable. In several respects the broken African-Coloured coalition symbolized the relative decline of racial interests. The groups with common racial interests split because, lured by the dominant elite, the subordinate elite chose to focus on its class interests. Manual's group campaigned, but it was no match for the combined dominant and subordinate elites. Since the Trusted Ten constituted itself as a slate, Manual's group was effectively thrust together as an opposing slate. It called itself Dlezinye, meaning "to swallow (all the votes)." 41 Dlezinye warned the electorate not to be fooled. It promised to fight for the development of the section of town that had been ignored for decades and to utilize municipal revenue evenly across the Umtata community. As for their opponents, Dlezinye candidates 40For more about the TDC, see the chapter "Economic Dominance." 41 Dlezinye was also referred to publicly as M azidi Ekhaya. Interestingly, both slates turned out to be multiracial. With ten seats on the council and only six individuals remaining in Dlezinye, it had to be prepared to work with four of the Trusted Ten. Dlezinye designated two whites with whom it was prepared to work.

[125]

Dismantling Apartheid

pointed out that "some of the members of the Trusted Ten were the very people who went to Cape Town to oppose Transkei government policy that made it possible for all racial groups to be voted to municipal councils." 42 With Lekota having defected to the Trusted Ten and Manual unable to stand for election, Dlezinye was left with candidates who had little political visibility and unimpressive educational and professional qualifications. They were politically inexperienced, unskilled workers. By contrast, the Trusted Ten were visible and experienced. They had campaign funds. They printed flyers, distributed pictures, offered transportation to the polls, and, according to one source, even "filled out ballots for voters who only had to give it in." The electorate voted for individual candidates, not for a particular slate; nevertheless, the Trusted Ten romped to victory. All ten members were elected, capturing 87.5 percent of the votes cast. Overall voter turnout was 43 percent. 43 The new council elected Mkwayi, chairman of the African Ratepayers Association, the first Mrican mayor of U mtata. Reportedly, this was at the suggestion of the white councillors, who assured the "reluctant" Mricans, "Don't worry about your lack of experience. We [the whites] can carry the ball." Arthur Chapman was appointed deputy mayor. The whites did carry the ball. The need for experience and knowhow was stressed, and all the important committee chairmanships went to whites. Leath was appointed chairman of the Finance Committee, Sparg of the General Purposes Committee, and Johns of the Streets and Public Works Committee. 44 Since the council functioned through the committee system, the former power brokers carried on as before. "Whites still control council," observed one informant perceptively. "Blacks say the work is so complicated. They need experience. They default to the whites on grounds of experience." Though extremely important, the nonstructural aspects of dominance are not so easily documented. Relations between the dominant and subordinate groups were not governed merely by the legislated structures. Personal interactions were a function of nonverbal behavior 42

Daily Dispatch, 7 September 1977.

Mayoral Minute, 1977-78, p. 2. Each councillor was chairman of at least one committee. Africans chaired the Community Affairs, Public Health and Licensing, Waterworks and Sewerage, Estates and Town Planning (formerly the Bantu Administration Department) committees. 43

44

[126]

Political Dominance

and nonverbal communication as well. "Positions of high status can provide individuals with the power or dominance to use nonverbal behavior in an instrumental fashion" (Patterson, 1985: 213). Typically, influence and dominance are conveyed through "repertoires of power gestures," which include forms of visual interaction, postures and body movements, proxemic behavior, smiles, and language (Ellyson and Dovidio, 1985: 12-13). 4 5 Dominance in the relations between the Town Council members and the Advisory Board members had been characterized by subtle forms of intimidation, reinforcement, persuasion, deception, and creation of impressions. Though the structures had changed, dominance in interpersonal relationships was often perpetuated through the continued use of these mechanisms. Because people learn that certain characteristics and behaviors are associated with status, many of the roles were maintained. Even on the new council, being African and being white continued to have much the same meanings with respect to superordination and subordination (Adam, 1971: 13). The dominant elite had safeguarded its preeminence. Africans were the substantial majority of the population but only 50 percent of the council. Moreover, the African councillors had been largely handpicked by the whites and relegated to the least powerful posts. Not only did the whites continue to dominate, but in many ways the Africans continued to play facilitating roles. As noted earlier, the N gangelizwe Advisory Board had the politically sensitive responsibility of allocating housing in the township. Now the board had been disbanded, and the Non-European Affairs Committee and Municipal Bantu Administration Department had been replaced by the Estates Committee and the Estates Division respectively. These new council and administrative posts, responsible for allocating housing in Ngangelizwe, were still held by Africans, who were allowed to manage the 2,500 municipal properties because it was a sensitive task and because the decisions did not affect whites. 46 A principal lesson of this ethnography is that the dominant elite per45 DeJongh (1990: 53) documents this phenomenon with respect to the Joint Bantu Advisory Board for the townships of Port Elizabeth. 46 Ikwezi Township was another "bantu township" that became the property of the Transkei government. The South Mrican government built 500 houses in Ikwezi, of which 200 were allocated by the Transkei government to its employees, and 300 were allocated by the Municipal Housing Committee for use by the general public (Mayoral Minute, 1978-79, p. 31).

[127]

Dismantling Apartheid

petuated its dominance. This is not to argue, however, that there was no social change in Umtata. In some respects the change was quite dramatic. For instance, as noted, almost all members of the Trusted Ten were former members of either the Town Council, the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, or the African Ratepayers Association; thus, individuals who had interacted in the old apartheid system continued to interact in the new system. But the creation of the Trusted Ten as a corporate actor fundamentally altered their relationships, social identities, and roles. The relationship of Mr. West and Mr. Ncgobo illustrates this point. 47 West, who was deputy town clerk after independence, had been manager of the Bantu Administration Department in 1974 and, therefore, secretary to the N gangelizwe Advisory Board; his job, among other things, was to implement the advisory system. Ncgobo, who was a mayor after independence, had been a member of the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board in 1974. Within a few years, therefore, the relative roles of these individuals changed substantially. From being in a powerless, subordinate role relative to West, Ncgobo moved to a superordinate, supervisory role. Calling attention to the length of this relationship, though not its changed character, Ncgobo noted in a Mayoral Minute: "A special word of thanks also to the Deputy Town Clerk, Mr. West, who I have worked with for many years, firstly as a member of the Ngangelizwe Advisory Board and lately as a Town Councillor, for the advice and assistance he has so readily given at all times."48 In actual fact, West was from an old "liberal" Transkeian family. As secretary to the Advisory Board, he had been extremely sympathetic to the plight of Ngangelizwe residents and was well liked by the board members. Nevertheless, in the old political structure he was in a superordinate position and was accorded ascribed as well as legislated status. Later, when some of his former subordinates were in positions senior to him, he recognized their ascribed and legislated status. Interestingly, the way this process unfolded supports the contention by elite theorists that social change is largely related to how elites vary in their structure and functioning. Although the dominant group had retained overall dominance, the subordinate group had also won in the exchange process. The fact that whites seriously negotiated with Africans set a new psychological tone 47 I have no direct knowledge of this relationship; the information here is from public documents. 48 Mayoral Minute, 1979-80.

[128]

Political Dominance

and increased the relative status of the latter. The appointment of an Mrican as the town's first citizen was visible acknowledgment of their legitimate right to political power. In the context of apartheid, performing the rituals of installation and investing an Mrican with the insignia of office symbolized an important redefinition of politics in their favor. These were major concessions by the dominant group. Apart from these symbols, however, the subordinate non-elite made few significant gains. The social segmentation and restratification had few practical benefits for those who did not possess the qualifications for upward mobility. They could not profit from the community's recent acceptance of class as a criterion for status. Tragically, they remained locked into the subordinate position to which their race had always relegated them. Effective dominant group control over municipal affairs was further assured by scrupulously applying the new norms of nondiscrimination, fairness, qualifications, and merit to the municipal civil servants. Though separate development demanded the abolition of the all-white Town Council, there was no corresponding need to change the allwhite administrative corps. Indeed, the senior administrators, who ran the town on a day-to-day basis, remained entirely white. The partnership between the white elected leadership and the white administrators continued. In the end, therefore, the dominant group in Umtata yielded little in the actual running of the town. 49 There were two classes of municipal employees. "Officials" or "permanent staff," in addition to receiving higher salaries, were entitled to thirty days' termination notice, extended periods ofleave, and pension benefits. "Employees" or "daily paid employees," largely unskilled, were subject to dismissal without notice, were granted only rudimentary leave privileges, and had no pension benefits. 50 There was an overwhelming coincidence between social status and rank within municipal employment. All the dominant group staff members were permanent, while all the daily paid employees were subordi49 As of 22 November 1977 the heads of all five municipal departments were white, although the Public Health Department was scheduled to receive an African head. 50 Daily paid employees received a minimum starting wage of R72 per month in 1982-a year in which inflation exceeded 16 percent-representing an increase of up to 25 percent over previous wages. Salaries for monthly employees were increased by 5 percent and the annual leave bonus increased to 8.33 percent of annual salary. In 1983 the salary for daily paid workers was increased to R90 per month, with the majority of laborers receiving in excess ofRllO per month, thanks to their length of service. In 1986 the minimum wage reached R134 per month (Mayoral Minute, 1985-86, p. 18).

[129]

Dismantling Apartheid

nate group members. Several years after independence, some subordinate group members had moved to the permanent staff, but 70 percent of it was still made up of members of the dominant group. Acknowledging the discriminatory aspect of its policies, the municipality admitted that "it is most unfair, to say the least, that an employee should work for the municipality for 20 years and still be regarded as 'temporary staff."'51 The injustice was no doubt underscored by the fact that dominant group members were continually being employed for short periods of time in "permanent" posts. In addition to higher wages, they received free housing, free water, free electricity, free sanitation, and an incentive allowance. 52 Taking steps to eliminate the bias, the biracial council after five years adopted a set of employment regulations and leave regulations "designed to take into account the true temporary worker and the so called 'temporary employee' who in fact remains in service permanently. The principle employed is that of increasing privilege with increasing length of service."53 Mricanization of the municipal civil service deliberately moved at a slow pace. In 1976 the Town Council did officially abolish job reservation, eliminate its differential salary scales, and commit itself to recruiting Mricans. The first black appointed to a formerly white post was an Mrican woman hired as a "Typist II" in 1976. Also in 1976, the Electricity Department for the first time hired Mricans as electricians and meter readers. Shortly thereafter, the head of that department reported that the black electricians "haven't been altogether satisfactory."54 A year later, he went into greater detail. "To date, the black electricians who have been employed have not proved to be very Mayoral Minute, 1980-81, p. 17, Report of the Town Clerk's Department. Mter 1982, a new salary grading scheme was adopted "which included the expatriates incentive allowance, thus doing away with any discrimination between Transkeians and expatriate employees" (Mayoral Minute, 1981-82, p. 6). This meant that the incentive allowance had been incorporated into the salary for the white posts, thus eliminating a bonus that went to whites only. 53 Ibid. All employees were divided into three categories based on length of service. Those in the lowest class, like the previous "temporary" employees, were subject to twenty-four hours' notice. Category 1 employees had the same status as the previous "officials." By the mid-1980s, the municipal salary structure had again "become obsolete and inadequate ... government salary scales were on average 20% higher at the bottom and 35% higher at the top notches than municipal salary scales. A new salary scales scheme was accordingly devised with all scales being increased by approximately 20% at the commencing notches and 35% at the top notches" (Mayoral Minute, 1984-85, p. 15). 54 Mayoral Minute, 1975-76. 51

52

[130]

Political Dominance

reliable and have lacked the experience, drive and initiative of their white counterparts ... for this reason, it is anticipated that it will be several years before blacks will predominate in this field. " 55 The municipality did establish a policy of training and promoting Mricans. In fact, while only fifty-five Africans were "permanent" employees in 1976, by 1980 there were 115 African and only twentytwo white permanent employees. 56 But these twenty-two were in the most senior posts, and in addition, there were twenty-three seconded whites. Of the sixty white municipal employees prior to independence, fortysix became seconded officials. The others, including the town clerk and the deputy town clerk, remained in the employ of the municipality. Fourteen whites, then, were firmly ensconced at the top of the municipal administration. Official policy was that administrators should "work their way up through the ranks-whites will not be displaced to make room for Africans. During the five years since Independence the original white personnel at all levels have gradually left for one reason or another and Transkeians have been engaged. However, in accordance with the ancient principle that everybody must 'start at the bottom', these Transkeians have mainly been engaged in junior positions." The City Treasurer's Office, staffed almost entirely by whites, was the model. Its training policy was one of"natural progression." That is to say that if somebody of relatively senior rank leaves, there is usually a series of internal promotions and the new unit is brought in at the lowest rank to "work his way up like everybody else." This meant that nearly all Transkeians who were employed came in as relatively junior clerks and very few were engaged directly in more senior positions. For a long while very few seconded officers did leave and consequently very few Transkeians were engaged. Then in the last two or three years the seconded officers started leaving at frequent intervals and as they did they were replaced 55 Mayoral Minute, 1976-77. In 1981, the electricity section was composed of three whites and five Africans: "The latter have now had two or more years experience with the department and are generally fully competent to tackle most problems encountered on the reticulation network without supervision" (Mayoral Minute, 1980-81, p. 2, report of the Electricity Department). And two years later: "What is most pleasing to report is the large number of competent Transkeian artisan electricians and mechanics in the service of the City Electricity Department. In addition, the department has two Pupil Engineer/Technicians ... studying for the National Diploma for Technicians at the Port Elizabeth Technikon" (Mayoral Minute, 1982-83, p. 24). 56 Mayoral Minute, 1979-80, p. 22.

[131]

Dismantling Apartheid by Transkeians .... The policy of training by "natural progression" is of course the universal method and works very well usually. 57

This policy effectively opposed affirmative action for Africans and imposed a system that favored dominant group control. In a practice having nothing to do with lack of experience or bias, Mricans were prevented from moving into senior administrative positions because the white incumbents were kept there. With the rapid expansion of city administration, new divisions were created, many of which would have had "the status of fully Hedged municipal departments in many other ... municipalities. However, it is a matter of principle with the Umtata City Council to curtail the number of fully-Hedged municipal departments and heads of departments to a minimum. It is believed that this facilitates greater cohesion, co-operation and efficiency. The greater the number of peers there are, the greater the chances of discord are." 58 Such a policy also entrenched dominant group control, given the number of whites permanently ensconced in senior posts, and the fact that "qualified" candidates for replacements in senior posts were invariably white. In 1987, ten years after independence, the town clerk, deputy town clerk, city treasurer, assistant city treasurer, city engineer, deputy city engineer, city electrician, and deputy city electrician were all white. Africans had been employed in senior posts in each department but always under white supervision. The only exception was the City Health Department, which was run by Mricans. Ensuring in a different way that the city administration would be controlled by the dominant group, the senior administrators prepared the agenda for the Town Council. The newly established Heads of Departments Committee met before every council meeting to discuss the agenda, so that "various problems and aspects are coordinated and uniform opinion or advice is conveyed by the various heads of departments to the various chairmen of committees. This facilitates the smooth functioning of council meetings as no contrary opinions are raised at the instigation of officials."59 In addition, the council referred "a multitude of matters" to the Heads of Departments Committee for consideration Mayoral Minute, 1982-83, pp. 20-21. Mayoral Minute, 1981-82, p. 35. 59 Mayoral Minute, 1981-82, p. 53. 57 58

[132]

Political Dominance

and recommendation. The committee, composed of all heads and deputy heads of departments, acted as the council's panel of experts. 60 Not surprisingly, then, decisions continued to favor those who were in control. The municipal housing policy, for instance, remained completely discriminatory. There was still white housing and black housing. Public funds for Africans were still being spent to build additional four-room houses in the location; for whites, more expensive, larger homes with modern facilities were constructed in white suburbs. 61 The municipal housing policy was discriminatory even with regard to its own employees. The 1976-77 Mayoral Minute explains: "For many years it has been Council's policy to provide housing for white staff [because] land for white occupation was limited and houses expensive and difficult to obtain .... Blacks can purchase anywhere, so whites are still being provided with houses and blacks not .... [We are] trying to establish means to help black employees to finance houses." Being keenly aware of their interest in working together, the council members delicately avoided open discussion of issues that might split it along dominant-subordinate group lines. Such issues were usually directed to a committee, where they could be handled off the record and with maximum control by the dominant elite. Most of the council work in any case was done in committee, with committee recommendations almost always being passed unanimously. Internal disagreements and dissenting opinions were thus buried in committees, out of public view, and in a forum where the senior administrators could carry the day. One issue buried in this fashion was disagreement on the terms of employment for expatriates. During the war for Zimbabwe independence, many white Rhodesians came to Umtata and received job offers there. Though these people were not recruited, dominant group members in the administration argued for employee contracts that would provide them full privileges. The Africans, first of all, objected in principle and, second, were upset by outsiders being brought in over the heads of Africans. Occupying the key administrative and decisionmaking posts, however, the dominant group prevailed in these cases. 60 Mayoral Minute, 1982-83, p. 63. The second in command did not always hold the rank of deputy head but was nevertheless called upon in the head's absence. 61 This situation is partly explained by the fact that South African government funds, through the South African Bantu Trust and TDC, were used for the new construction.

[133]

Dismantling Apartheid

On occasion, issues did rise to the surface, into a context where the subordinate group members had more clout. In one such instance, a member of the council told me, an Mrican resident complained that the clinic in town, which had formerly been reserved for whites and still had a white nurse, continued to refuse service to Africans. The complaint was passed to the town clerk, who requested a report from the chief health inspector, who refused to report. The matter went before the council in the form of a motion instructing the chief health inspector to make a report on the matter. In the debate the inspector claimed that there was no need to report because there was no discrimination and that the matter was complicated by the fact that the nurse did not know Xhosa. The supporters of the motion argued that cases of real or alleged discrimination must be handled expeditiously in order to avoid serious public repercussions. The motion passed unanimously. While the dominant elite had their way in the first year, the subordinate elite negotiated more gains during the second. In 1978 Mkwayi was again chosen mayor, but Chapman was removed as deputy mayor and a "more acceptable" white councillor, Johannes Rudolph, was appointed to that post. Moreover, David Leath resigned from council and was replaced as chairman of the Finance Committee by Bernard Zuma. One African councillor asserted, "Whenever blacks wanted to do someting, he [Leath] said there was no money. Now Mr. Zuma is chairman." Over the next few years, membership of the council changed, and more power was ceded to the subordinate elite, but dominant group interests were always protected. Mayor Mkwayi died tragically in an auto accident in 1979. Deputy Mayor Rudolph was elected mayor, but only two months later he was killed in an airplane accident and his deputy, Councillor Ncgobo, was elected mayor. He held office until 1982, when he resigned to devote more time to his business. Councillor Zuma had resigned in 1980 for the same reason. Councillor Johns resigned in 1978 and emigrated to England but subsequently returned to Port Elizabeth. Sparg resigned in 1979. 62 The dominant elite probably did not realize the degree to which collaboration with the subordinate elite would actually promote dominant interests. By internalizing the dominant elite's values, norms, 62 The Africans were replaced successively by I. N. Mdlekeza, G. M. Bodlani, P. J. Jizana, Mrs. M. M. M. Raziya, J. N. D. Mabovula, and F. R. S. Ngcobo; Councillors Lekota and Mapongwana served through the 1980s. Mapongwana was mayor during civic year 1981-82. The white councillors were, at various points, replaced by F. D. Haarhoff, M. T. Palmgren, A. J. Tew, G. S. Wood, and R. H. Coombes.

[134]

Political Dominance

interests, and world view, the subordinate elite became a most effective instrument for sustaining dominant group privilege. The subordinate elite now perceived its interests in much the same terms as did the dominant elite. Unwittingly, they protected the dominant group's status because they aspired to that status themselves. An illustration of this phenomenon occurred in 1978. Although the council then had a six-to-four African majority, it adopted the ward system of government that had been rejected two years earlier. One of the Mrican supporters of the change, who now lived in the white suburbs, explained: "The ward system was ok' d because it's not right for Ngangelizwe to have all the votes, elect their people and divert money to themselves. They contribute least to the coffers. The ward system is thus fairer. Ratepayers are not swamped, nor do they control council" (interview). 63 This was not the only example of subordinate group members helping to preserve dominant group interests by subscribing to dominant group values and norms. For years the Umtata Town Council continued to pay "expatriate allowances," preserving the white-African salary differential, and even revised the salary scales and benefits for white employees permanently on the municipal payroll. It also maintained the distinction between white housing and black housing, allocating public resources accordingly. As seen above, some African councillors accepted the dominant group premise that the flow of public resources to the poorer parts of town should be a function of the size of those sections' contributions to the public treasury. 64 This ethnography of government in Umtata demonstrates that although change cannot be controlled entirely, dominant groups can and 63Mayoral Minute, 1979-80, p. 39. Umtata's five wards are (1) Umtata North (Norwood, Ncambedlana, Hillcrest, Northcrest); (2) Ngangelizwe East; (3) Ngangelizwe/ Ikwezi; (4) City Central (central business district); (5) Umtata West (Fortgale, Southernwood). In 1986 there were about 8,000 registered voters in Umtata. Two councillors were elected for four-year terms from each ward. Although the wards each contained approximately the same number of voters, Wards 1, 4, and 5 were controlled by whites, Coloreds, and the African bourgeoisie. 64The similarity between some subordinate elite behavior in Umtata and the behavior described by "dependency" theories cannot go unnoticed. These theories assume that "indigenous elites are coopted by a worldwide commercial power elite, with the result that the indigenous elite promotes the interests of the worldwide elite by facilitating exploitation of raw materials, by preventing the development of a domestic manufacturing sector, and by neutralizing internal bases of political resistance" (Orum, 1983: 196).

[135]

Dismantling Apartheid

will act to influence the nature and speed of change so as to maintain their social primacy. Where allocating rewards and status has previously been done on a racial basis, this manipulation can often be accomplished by introducing class variables into the stratification system. Through segmentation, previously ignored commonalities may be recognized and accentuated. Class-based interests can be acknowledged and promoted while the significance of ethnicity is played down. Eventually, corporate groups will form themselves on the basis of new criteria. The result is a different configuration of corporate groups in the social structure. But since the dominant elite both defines and possesses the necessary class credentials, it retains its privileged status and acts as the gatekeeper, regulating others' mobility. Its position is further reinforced by the upwardly mobile subordinates who, by accepting dominant group criteria for upward mobility, reaffirm and commit themselves to those values and norms that fortify the dominant group's superordinate rank.

[136]

[5] Economic Dominance

Just as it forced change in the political order, so too did Pretoria try to impose changes in the white-controlled economy of Transkei. 1 Great efforts were made to remove whites and to transfer businesses and property to Mricans. The goal was to create pure apartheid: Mricans living, voting, owning property in "their" areas; whites living, voting, and owning property in theirs. The plan was successful in ultimately moving most settlers out. In social and political life, though, the processes led to diminishing barriers between Mricans and whites and even efforts toward their cooperation. As regards the economy, however, change was exceedingly grudging. Small businesses, especially in the rural areas and towns, were bought by the South Mrican Bantu Trust (SABT), and many of them were transferred to Mricans via the Transkei Development Corporation (TDC). For the most part, the larger businesses throughout the country stayed in white hands or were operated by the TDC. The Mrican and white elites seldom found common interests on matters of business and the ownership of economic resources and made few efforts toward genuine collaboration. Although mutual benefit was 1 The central government had contributed R15,075,000 toward the Transkei budget of R23,570, 000 in 1969-70. In addition, it paid the salaries and pensions for the seconded white civil servants-another Rl,SOO,OOO. "Furthermore, the South Mrican Government or the Cape Provincial Council [bore) the full cost of those official activities which [did] not yet come within the scope of the Transkei authorities-e.g., the provision of medical facilities, the higher courts, the conduct of foreign affairs, defence, police, trunk roads, posts and telecommunications" (A State in the Making, p. 12).

[137]

Dismantling Apartheid

perceived in forming nonracial corporate groups in the social and political spheres (despite instances of exploitation and convenience arrangements), only limited mutual benefit was found in the formation of nonracial corporate groups in the economy. This experience underscores the conceptual differences between J. S. Furnivall (1948) and M. G. Smith (1956), who, in developing a "pluralist" model for society, concentrated on the fact of social and cultural diversity, as many now do in South Africa. Furnivall, Smith's predecessor, maintained however that economic forces were the primary determinants of social cleavages (see Kuper and Smith, 1969). In Umtata, dissensus was greatest in matters having to do with the economy. Within the framework of elite theory, the U mtata ethnography suggests that circulation of elites is less evident in the economy. It better supports a class analysis, where classes are mainly economic groups that have antagonistic relations. Upon coming to power in 1948, the Nationalist government moved to control the migration of Mricans to urban areas such as U mtata. One step in this direction was taken in 1952 when, under the provisions of the Native Laws Amendment Act, No. 54, the labor bureau system was enacted. Subsequent acts, regulations, and their amendments established a central labor bureau, regional labor bureaus, district labor bureaus, and local labor bureaus. By the end of 1971 there were nine regional, 379 district, and 414 local labor bureaus in "white" areas of the country. It was their duty "to place Bantu in employment and to correlate the supply of Bantu labour with the demand." In 1968, labor bureaus were also established in "black" areas of the country to regulate migratory labor: "No Bantu shall leave and no person shall cause a Bantu to leave the area of a tribal labour bureau unless he has been registered with that bureau." In 1971 there were twenty-six district labor bureaus in Transkei, each managed by a labor officer whose job it was to "place workseekers in the area of the territorial authority or elsewhere in accordance with requisitions he receives and the qualifications of the workseekers" (South Africa 1974: 302-4, 509). Because of the bantustan's low productivity, migrant labor not only helped the dominant group's economic interests but paradoxically became increasingly important to Transkei as well. In 1963, the beginning of" self-government," 115,000 people were recruited annually for work outside Transkei. By 1968, 41,626 of the 250,000 men in the labor force were employed in Transkei, while 155,329 worked outside. 2 In 1970, 2 The migrants at this point earned R23,300, 000 annually, of which 50 percent found its way back into Transkei (Horrell, 1969: 143).

[138]

Economic Dominance

184,788 Transkeian men were placed in employment elsewhere. Agriculture, forestry, and fishing accounted for 24 percent of them; factories and industries, 23 percent; and the mines and the building industry, 14 percent each. Seventy percent of these men worked in the western Cape, 21 percent in Transvaal. Their earnings were estimated at R30 million. 3 By 1971 the 352licensed labor agents in Transkei were recruiting 39,030 workers for the gold mines, 9,577 for the coal mines, 10,418 for other mines, 22,383 for agriculture, and 796 for other industries (South Africa 1974: 30). During the 1970s, despite self-government and impending independence, the number of men from Transkei employed elsewhere in South Africa increased even further, and the Transkei economy became even more dependent on their earnings. Contributing 48 percent of the Transkei's gross national income (GNI) in 1965, by 1973 migrant workers were providing 69.6 percent of the homeland's GNI, helping to boost that income from R92 million to R407 million and to raise per capita income from R58 to R178. 4 By 1974 the number ofTranskei migrants had swelled to 256,971, with earnings of Rll5 million. 5 In 1976 the domestic male work force was 400,000, while there were 360,000 Transkeians working outside the homeland, contributing 70 percent of the taxes and remittances received by the Transkei internal revenue. 6 In 1977, one year after independence, 400,000 men-60 percent of the entire male labor force-were employed outside the bantustan. Their earnings totaled R400 million, of which 20 percent found its way back to Transkei. 7 The larger reality is that the entire Transkei economy became merely a submarket within the national economy. Imports into the homeland, including all sophisticated consumer goods and services, accounted for about 78 percent of the net disposable income in the territory. In the 1980s most major retail and service businesses were subsidiaries or branches of companies outside Transkei, even suppliers of such basic 3 This estimate is based on a twenty-five-day working month for an eighteenth-month contract at a daily wage rate of 80 cents and monthly wage of R20 (Daily Dispatch, 20 January 1972). 4 Sunday Times, 10 October 1976; BENBO, 1976: 11. Of the R20,361,000 revenue in 1965-66, only R3,331,000 came from Transkei's own resources; Rl3,000,000 was a grant from Pretoria (The Transkei, n.d.: 31). 5 Daily Dispatch, 9 February 1976. In 1974, twenty-six labor bureaus were operating in Transkei. 6 Sunday Times, 10 October 1976. 7 Daily Dispatch, 26 October 1978. Thomas (1983: 51) says that only 60 percent of migrants' income is spent in South Africa.

[139]

Dismantling Apartheid

consumer goods as grain, vegetables, fruit, meat, bread, and milk. Half of the 1980 national income was derived from migrants; nearly 25 percent of the remaining national income came, directly or indirectly, from Pretoria. Budget aid (replacing the former "statutory grant") and loans to Transkei (mainly "soft loans" under favorable terms) increased by 36 percent and 76 percent respectively during the early 1980s (Thomas, 1983: 51-52, 81, 94, 98). In the final analysis, therefore, there was little change in economic relations between the dominant and subordinate groups in Umtata, largely because those relations occurred in the broader context of bantustan economies. The bantustans functioned as labor reserves for the dominant group economy. 8 A healthy, truly independent, Mrican-controlled economy was clearly incompatible with the goals of white dominance, whatever pretense there was to the contrary. The separate development program did have two economic goals, however. The first goal was to transfer economic resources from whites to Mricans. The second was to attract industry to the homeland. Government agencies were established to pursue these goals. In 1959 the Bantu Investment Corporation (BIC) was established as a statutory body in the Department of Bantu Administration and Development to assist black businessmen, help establish industries in the homelands, and make housing loans available. It was intended "to provide technical assistance and advice, to mobilize capital, to encourage thrift and generally to promote Black self-help in the economic sphere" (South Africa 1974: 264). As whites were systematically removed from the rural areas, their trading stations were purchased by the South Mrican Bantu Trust and given to the Bantu Investment Corporation. By 1966, the BIC owned fifty trading stations and, in keeping with its role of promoting Mrican business, had loaned R496,000 to 1,139 Transkeians 8 The economic conditions of the Transkei were characterized by low per capita income, low productivity, traditional production methods, a large percentage of the labor force in the traditional agricultural sector, rapid population increase, the lack of capital, a small urbanized population, and a high dependency burden (Transkei National Development Framework, undated draft: 228). Transkei was described as also having a "market oriented, industrialized sector which uses reproducible capital and skilled labor," but such statements reflected goals rather than reality, since industrial development was promoted by the South African government in an attempt to legitimate its separate development program. But this industrial development was designed to service South African markets. Moreover, since migrant labor flowing into the white economy continued to be the major pillar of the economy, the economic organization of the homeland continued to be oriented toward broader South Africa rather than toward self-sufficiency and self-sustained growth as a separate unit.

[140]

Economic Dominance

for the purpose of starting businesses (Race Relations Survey, 1966: 134, 138). In 1965 the government established the Xhosa Development Corporation (XDC), which assumed the BIC's responsibility for Transkei and Ciskei (South Africa 1974: 566). Under the subsequently promulgated Promotion of Economic Development of Homelands Act, No. 46, of 1968, the directors of the XDC were appointed by the central government and were subject to the directions of the SABT, which held all the shares of the corporation. 9 The principal function of the XDC was to manage and distribute businesses and other property purchased from whites. Buying out whites was a successful exercise. At the end of 1971 the XDC owned bulk fuel depots, stone crushers, and metal works in U mtata and Butterworth, and phormium tenax decorticators in Butterworth and Lusikisiki. It also owned a hotel in U mtata and in Butterworth a maize roller mill, a brewery, a cement brick factory, a printing factory, two contracting businesses, and an advertising agency. It had received applications for twenty new factories, and twenty projects had been approved or were being considered (Race Relations Survey, 1972: 199-200). Given the government's broader objective of creating "independent" countries that had the characteristics of other "nations," another stated aim of the XDC was to attract industry to the homeland. A scheme was devised within the framework of the Promotion of Economic Development of Homelands Act whereby whites, under the aegis of the XDC, would serve as agents or contractors for the South Mrican Bantu Trust in undertaking industrial projects. 10 The idea was 9 Race Relations Survey, 1968: 149-50. This act empowered the state president to establish more development corporations. It stipulated that corporations established under the new framework could have advisory boards with appointed African members, racially mixed boards having been rejected by the minister of Bantu administration and development. In 1968, within this framework, the Bantu Mining Corporation was created. 10 The 1968 (Race Relations Survey 149-50) noted that under this agency system a number of conditions obtained: (1) the white agent or contractor would be granted permission only to occupy land, not to obtain any proprietary or entrenched rights; (2) links with foreign interests would not be allowed; (3) agreements with agents would be entered into for fixed periods only; (4) the agent might benefit financially but would not operate exclusively for his own financial gain; (5) large concentrations of white workers and their dependents were to be avoided wherever possible; (6) Africans must be employed to the extent feasible, and they must be trained to hold increasingly senior posts; (7) the agents might be assisted in various ways by a corporation; (8) agents must

[141]

Dismantling Apartheid

that whites could start and run large industries until they were well established, then turn them over to Africans. Attractive incentives or concessions attempted to lure white investment: (1) indemnification against losses should the company lose effective control of its industry, business, or assets; (2) financial assistance for the erection of buildings to the specifications of the industrialist at an annual rental of 7 percent of construction costs, and financing of up to 50 percent of the funds required for machinery, equipment, and working capital at an interest rate of 4 percent; (3) tax concessions to 30 percent of the value of manufacturing machinery and equipment, 50 percent of the wages paid to black employees during the first seven years, the concessions to be deducted from tax payable; (4) housing for key personnel at an annual rental of 2.5 percent of the cost of the dwellings; (5) cash reimbursement for relocation costs of the factory and personnel; (6) a railage rebate of 40 percent on goods manufactured in Transkei and railed out of Transkei; (7) a rebate of 50 percent on manufactured goods shipped from East London to other South African ports; (8) price preferences of 5-10 percent on purchases made by South African government agencies (Barclays, 1977: 14-16). By means of Proclamation R50 of 1976 the South Mrican government established the Transkei Development Corporation, which took over the assets and work of the XDC in Transkei. Headquartered in U mbata, the TDC began with ten board members, five white and five Mrican. Keeping the control in white hands, as with the XDC, TDC board members were appointed by government and subject to the direction of the South African Bantu Trust. With this leadership and an all-white management, the TDC vigorously promoted the agency system. Contracts under the scheme were normally for a period of twenty to twenty-five years and provided for the training of Africans. By 1977 the TDC had agency agreements with forty-five manufacturers. 11 In general, the new white-owned businesses did not do well. TDC officials admitted, off the record, that only a handful of the twenty-six agency industries in Transkei's main industrial area of Butterworth were making a profit. The job-creation objective of the agency scheme had disappointing results as well. By 1979 only 143,229 jobs had been pay rent, royalties, commission, and a share of profits to a corporation and/or to the Bantu Authority in the area concerned. 11 Transkei Development Corporation Limited, n. d., fact sheet issued by the corporation. The figure for agency agreements is substantially lower than the sixty claimed by the TDC's public relations publication, Transkei Development Corporation.

[142]

Economic Dominance

created (Muller, 1983a: 7). Beneficial concessions notwithstanding, these businesses suffered from the high costs of salaries for white supervisory personnel, of training the local people, of raw materials, electricity, and water, and of shipping their finished products. In addition to offering agency contracts, the TDC also established a multiracial wholesale company called Tembelethu, in which Mricans could acquire 50 percent ownership (worth R5 million), with TDC holding the other 50 percent. This action was promoted as "the first time Mricans had a direct interest in commercial developments in the country." 12 The Tembelethu board consisted of five whites from the TDC and five Mricans nominated by the African shareholders. In 1977, Tembelethu achieved a turnover of R20 million per annum (Transkei Development Corporation, n.d.). Most of the TDC's R90 million share capital was used to transfer white-owned businesses to the TDC management (Jones, 1985: 204). But between 1967 and 1977 a number of businesses, mostly small ones in the towns and rural areas, had been transferred to Africans: 669 trading businesses (sale price R6, 121,391), 34 hotels/bottle stores (R609,600), 60 transport companies (R1,393,370), 27 garages (R217,058), and 90 other businesses (R1, 196,056). 13 Historically, Umtata had not been a major industrial center. Up to 1932, industry had not invested capital at Umtata, "mainly because the town has failed to exploit satisfactorily its natural and man-made advantages; because, also, it is the terminus of a branch line and railway freightage militates against the finished product." The town fathers, however, pointed to its great assets, including cheap electricity and water and an abundance of "cheap, intelligent labour." In particular, they said, "forces are at work which are gradually producing a revolutionary change in life and status of the Native. Day by day he is becoming more susceptible to the civilising influence of his contact with the European and more receptive to those ideas and standards which entice him from his natural occupation-agriculture-to seek work in the towns" (Souvenir Brochure, 1932: 37). Nonetheless, Umtata remained largely an administrative center. From the beginning, whites resisted Pretoria's plans for changes in the town's limited econDaily Dispatch, 10 August 1976. Personal interview with TDC official. As of February 1985, the TDC had invested R50 million in industrial premises, R49 million in houses, R44 million in loans to transnational companies, R34 million in loans to Africans, and R12 million in investment in African companies (Jones, 1985: 205). 12

13

[143]

Dismantling Apartheid

omy. Many of them perceived economic matters as ultimately the most important issues. To enforce its will, though, the government eventually changed the zoning of various sections of Umtata. The Zoning Committee was appointed in 1964 "to investigate the zoning of areas, or portions of areas, of the 'white spot' towns of the Transkei, for occupation or ownership by Africans." 14 Because of the 1966 Group Areas Act, changes in zoning not only redefined where the various racial groups were allowed to live but also where they were allowed to own property and businesses. In theory, those areas were to be expanded until all of the town would be zoned black. In 1960, all ofUmtata had been zoned white except for Norwood and Ncambedlana. Norwood was a suburb adjacent to town where Coloreds and whites lived. Ncambedlana, the one area where middle-class Africans could own homes, was located several miles out of town. Now, in an attempt to forestall "African penetration," the Umtata Town Council formulated and submitted its own plan to the Zoning Committee, suggesting that only one-third of the town be zoned for Africans. 15 But Pretoria was determined. The Zoning Committee chairman declared that the government's intention was to attract "wealthy Africans" living elsewhere to return to Transkei and that consequently "we must zone as big an area as possible for Bantu ownership" (Race Relations Survey, 1966: 152). In fact, when the zoning provisions were finally promulgated in December 1965, most Transkei towns were either completely or partially reserved for Africans (Horrell, 1966: 132), and contrary to the Town Council's wishes, part of U mtata was set aside for African occupation-from Sutherland Street northward, excluding the more desirable residential neighborhoods, the town center, and the major business area. Norwood was zoned African, but no specific provisions were made for the Colored residents. Zoning continued to be a contentious issue between the central government and Umtata's dominant elite. In 1968, with the intention of zoning even more areas for Africans, the Bantu Administration and Development Department asked for consultations on the matter. The Town Council argued that since the areas already zoned black had not 14 Race Relations Survey, 1964: 152. The commission's mandate did not include Port St. Johns, Umzimkulu, and Matatiele, as they were to remain white. IS Mayoral Minute, 1963-64.

[144]

Economic Dominance

been developed to any significant extent, the zones were "sufficient and adequate for the time being and ... not yet ready for revision as far as Umtata is concerned." The council was successful; the 1970 zoning proclamation added only a few additional erven to the areas in U mtata already zoned black. 16 For Umtata whites, however, change was unrelenting. Umtata was designated a "growth point." In the early 1970s the central government was pursuing a plan of industrial decentralization with the aim of curbing the increase of African workers in white areas. Voluntary compliance with this plan was unsatisfactory, so a Decentralization Board and a Growth Points Committee were established. Fifteen growth points, "based on the employment of black labour," were designated in various parts of the country, including two in Transkei: Umtata and Butterworth (South Africa 1974: 563-64). For the whites in Umtata, not only had recent years seen African self-government and new zoning, but it was now evident that the town was slated to have an influx of new industry and additional Mrican workers. Umtata's 20,129 inhabitants in 1970 included 3,000-4,000 whites. Planners projected a total population of60,000 by the year 2000. The government was investing heavily in an attempt to alter the old economic structures. Its programs were supposed to transfer wealth and economic resources to Mricans, but they did not achieve their intended results. Separate development meant the emergence of some Mrican entrepreneurs, but there was little Mrican ownership in Umtata, even though by 1977-78 the local economy was more vibrant than ever. The wages of the new seconded officials, new African government officials, contract personnel, and recently employed laborers were a great boon to local merchants. Some white businessmen had sold to the Transkei Development Corporation out of fear of independence; of these, some had left; others still maintained residence in Umtata. Most, however, were either unable or unwilling to sell their businesses, and with the surge in the local economy they were pleased not to have sold. The government's transfer program was so ineffective that in 1977, a year after independence, the downtown businesses were all still owned by whites or the TDC except for a garage and one hotel. Even where whites were being bought out, Mricans were not taking over. Separate development did, of course, stimulate increased economic 16

Mayoral Minute, 1967-68, 1969-70.

[145]

Dismantling Apartheid

activity in Umtata. Outside capital, mainly for "prestige projects," arrived in unprecedented amounts as South Africa tried to give substance to the claims of independence. The Transkei budget increased from R38 million in 1972-73 to R328.3 million in 1978-79. The major projects included a twelve-story administrative building costing R13,670,000, a R30 million hospital, a R12 million airport, a R15 million military base, a R2 million presidential palace, and a R70 million university. 17 In addition, new housing was built to accommodate seconded white workers and the new African workers. Thus, while South Africa as a whole was experiencing recession, U mtata was experiencing a boom. Councillor Johns, a leading businessman noted: Independence has been a spur to the local economy. There is enormous building and expansion, so jobs in the artisan category are booming. There is home building, government building, the university-all with the accompanying sewage, water, and so on. This is not just for new construction but includes the expansion of the former African areas .... Transkei has been an economic stimulus to the entire eastern part of the province. The rest of the country is in a recession, but the South African government has injected so much capital into Transkei that salaries have risen and there is little unemployment for whites and Coloreds. 18 Johns was referring to the fact that in a four-year period, U mtata had acquired a new water system at a cost of Rl. 7 million, a new sewage system costing Rl.6 million, and an electricity system costing R1 million. Projections suggested that in the next five years another R12 million would be required for roads, sewage, and other capital expenditures. He continued: The vast majority of business growth started about six months ago [March 1977]. Even though there is no more job reservation, whites have had to be imported. Wages are still low here. I guess the government guidelines are between Rl.80 and R2.25 per day. I used to pay R2.50, which was considered low, but I couldn't have raised them and remained competitive. Two or three years ago, when the wages on the mines were increased from about 80 cents per shift (though there were benefits such as housing and food), Transkei workers left. Now there is a shortage of workers and competition for them is severe. Sunday Times, 10 October 1976; also see Daily Dispatch, 31 August 1976. Interview. Job reservation had existed before, so that now only whites and Coloreds were qualified for certain jobs. 17

18

[146]

Economic Dominance

Whites still dominated the commercial life of the town. According to Councillor Sparg, "The white businessmen who are leaving are leaving for normal reasons-retirement, age, health, and so on. The younger businessmen are staying. There is such financial benefit, the older ones are saying, 'Here's my chance to get out.' ... Whites face problems with property. If they don't sell to the South Mrican Bantu Trust [for inflated prices], they can't get their money out. They can't sell to other whites because of the citizenship requirement. Blacks can't afford those prices" (interview). Nevertheless, Pretoria's tactics for forcing whites out ofTranskei did precipitate a disintegration of the white commercial establishment in Umtata. The owner of a leading downtown shop discussed the demise of the (white) Umtata Chamber of Commerce: The U mtata chamber was between seventy-five and a hundred years old. It was the only chamber in Transkei (except maybe Butterworth). The businesspeople in other towns were members of the Transkei Civic Association. The chamber gradually faded out. It ended officially this year [1978], but interest had been waning over recent years. It was kept going during the early '70s by one or two people who kept records, and so on. Then when those people left, I was asked to take over. The chamber was kept alive mainly because of the medical and pension programs it received through its affiliation with ASSOCOM (Johannesburg) [Association of Chambers of Commerce and Industry of South Africa]. We were affiliated through the East London chamber, as sort of a branch. We have now been accepted into full membership of the East London chamber, so there was no need to keep this chamber alive. The records have been sent to the office in East London. Membership in the chamber varied, with the maximum being thirty to forty members. Until five years ago we held monthly meetings, had an annual dinner; most businessmen belonged. The chamber dealt with relevant matters such as postal problems, transportation problems, party lines, and the like. They also dealt with local matters, such as coordinating closings on holidays. The main benefit, though, was to allow employers and employees to participate in the medical program and pension scheme. There were lots of white businesses. The medical aid scheme and pensions were a big help to the small businessman because the big firms had their own programs. The small fellow got his help through the chamber. Then, since we were affiliated with ASSOCOM, we sent our big problems to them. Business in Umtata was all white until just about independence. Then the TDC started and gave financial support to blacks. They were buying out whites and putting blacks in. There was no forcing of whites to sell. Most would have sold in any case, due to ill health or age .... Blacks have [147]

Dismantling Apartheid

started a chamber in U mtata. It is just getting off the ground. Whites can join. I have received an application form. [Interview]

Whites did not join. In the economy, stratification remained heavily along racial lines. There were few benefits for the dominant elite in bridging the racial barriers in this area. Also the subordinate elite were afraid of continued economic dominance by the whites. As an official of the new African chamber explained: Whites are still entrenched in business here. There are a few blacks in the black area, the other side of Sutherland Street. But with the exception ofTDC garages, there are still no blacks in the main business area. Since we are still dealing with them, we can't have them with us. They haven't forgotten their old ways-of trying to replace us. We are not ready to admit whites. It would kill us. We can't have blacks and whites starting together. They have past advantages which make the situation unfair. Already some of them are using us as fronts to get ahead .... The TDC is beginning to receive applications from black-white joint ventures. Some people feel that the whites are using the blacks. They are asking why the blacks can't go it alone. [Interview]

The Mrican elite did enthusiastically support the government's buyout program. On this issue, there was congruence of interest between Pretoria's political objectives and the economic objectives of the subordinate bourgeoisie. Historically, it had been extremely difficult for Mricans to get started in business. Zuma explained: Traders were the only civilised outposts, the only ones with telephones, and so on. Consequently, the traders were advisers, since they could read and had knowledge of the law. They also gave loans. They were big deals in the community. There were no black traders, but there was no prohibition against blacks. It was a matter of blacks not having the trading tradition. Licenses would have been granted if blacks had applied. In fact, there was room for more traders-not all of the five-mile units were taken. Blacks started in business in the mid- to late-1950s. At least that was true in my district, Idutwya. It was also about this time that Bam [a leading entrepreneur] started the Broadway Cafe. [Interview]

As the rural areas of Transkei were Africanized during the late 1960s and early 1970s, an all-Mrican business organization was formed. Called the Transkei Chamber of Commerce, this group began in 1973 [148]

Economic Dominance

with branches in eight of the homeland's regions and about four hundred members. At the same time, a new Mrican chamber was started in U mtata. It called itself the Transkei Commercial Association and later the Central Transkei Chamber of Commerce. This group disbanded in 1977, but in late 1977 the Umtata Chamber of Commerce (African) was begun by several African businessmen. 19 "The emphasis is on quality people, with high potential and brains. Now we have thirty members," explained a prominent founding member. But there were not many Mricans in businesses of substance. "Blacks have been in business for some time-since 1952," reported George Cooper in 1977. "There are now thirty-two businesses in Ngangelizwe. It is mainly these people who are now buying in town. In addition, though, there are a number ofblacks in 'mushroom' businesses, buying products retail and reselling them in the rural areas at a profit .... Now about 60 percent of city businesses are black- or TDC-owned. Only 1 percent of garages are still white-owned." Of the 60 percent, however, the overwhelming majority were TDC-owned. Moreover, in sharp contrast to the social and political domains, with the exception of a very few joint ventures and a few alleged fronts, there was virtually no African-white cooperation in the private sector. Despite a few African successes, patterns of economic dominance shifted only slightly. Whites quickly resigned themselves to separate development; then business people determined individually whether it was in their financial interest to remain or to sell. Africans, desperate to establish footholds in commerce, felt that given the years of deliberate exclusion, they were entitled to preferential treatment. As a result of separate development initiatives, the public sector was by far the greatest economic force in the new Umtata. So much of the recurrent budget, not to mention funds for development, depended upon resources from Pretoria that individual African business advancement was of no significance in empowering the subordinate group economically. 20 19 The defunct white chamber was also called the Umtata Chamber of Commerce. At the time of my research in November 1977, the African chamber was only two weeks old, according to a prominent member, "having been formed as a result of difficulties with the old chamber." 20 African businessmen did ultimately benefit from U mtata's development. The most ambitious project to date is the proposed new bus terminus and shopping center. In the early 1980s, planners recognized that the existing Bridge Street bus terminus would

[149]

Dismantling Apartheid

Between 1968 and 1977, municipal expenditures increased from R689,421 to R2,652,95l. 21 During the year immediately following independence, expenditures rose by 23.3 percent. Before 1976, in addition to its grants to the bantustan, the South African government provided a subsidy directly to the municipality of U mtata. That subsidy ceased at independence, but Pretoria did continue to pay the salaries of the seconded municipal employees-an amount totaling R255,000, or 9.63 percent of the total municipal expenditure. 22 But even with the economic boom and the government subsidy, rates were forced up by 50 percent during the 1976-77 financial year. In 1976-77, rates had provided only 12.3 percent ofUmtata's income. Separate development had, in fact, sent Umtata finances into the red, mostly because 40 percent of the rateables belonged to the Transkei government and therefore were not taxed. Furthermore, the large number of seconded personnel paid no tax in Umtata. Nevertheless, it was precisely the presence of these institutions and "expatriates" that necessitated greater investment in municipal services. 23 soon be inadequate and identified the Circus Triangle as the site for a future bus terminus. According to a City Council directive, the Planning Division of the City Engineer's Department pursued the project. A private company subsequently negotiated to lease land at the Circus Triangle to develop an R18 million shopping center and agreed to construct, in the process, a Rl. 76 million bus terminus, the cost to be offset against the land rental (Mayoral Minute, 1985-86, p. 36). By 1986 the U mtata Chamber of Commerce had become an active force in U mtata politics as well as in its economy. The City Council received a petition from four suburban butcher shops to be permitted to open for business on Sundays and public holidays. This request was supported by the Umtata Chamber, which requested that the City Council remove all restrictions on the opening and closing hours of shops. Its position was that all shopkeepers should be allowed to decide their own hours. The council accepted the chamber's argument and extended shop hours to the maximum limits permitted by the Shop Hours Ordinance, No. 14, of 1930 and the Lord's Day Observance Act, No. 19, of 1895. 21 In 1971 the total municipal expenditure was R988,420. In 1981, it was R7, 153,584, an increase of 624 percent (Mayoral Minute, 1980-81, p. 4, report of the City Treasurer's Department). For subsequent years, the respective figures were R8.531 million in 1982, R10.888 million in 1983, R14.414 million in 1984, R16.440 million in 1985. In 1984, the council approved loans of Rl.ll4 million and R4.1ll million, most of which were to come from the Development Bank of Southern Africa at subsidized interest rates. Estimated expenditure in 1986 was R19.362 million (Mayoral Minute, 1985-86, p. 41). In 1985, inflation in Umtata was 18 percent, in 1986 it was 16.5 percent (Mayoral Minute, 1985-86, p. 6). 22 Mayoral Minute, 1976-77. By 1981 the amount of this subsidy was approximately R184,000 (Mayoral Minute, 1980-81, p. 3, report of the City Treasurer's Department). 23 The rising cost of electricity was a case in point. Before the influx of new people, Umtata's six-kilowatt generating station had been sufficient. With increased demand, the municipality wished to expand its capacity but was not allowed to do so by the

[150]

Economic Dominance

The result of all this was that although a few entrepreneurs benefited, economic subordinance remained the reality for most Africans. Before independence, conditions were poor largely because the only funds used in Ngangelizwe came from the Bantu Revenue Account. Rental fees, lodgers' fees, fines, and labor bureau fees went into this account, and all expenses were met from the income. Even the salaries of the white township administrators, which consumed about 45 percent of the total revenue, were taken from this account. Little was left to improve the quality of life. The manager of the Municipal Bantu Administration Department officially complained in 1972 that the Bantu Revenue Account was, "not even adequate for normal administrative purposes and there are insufficient funds to allow even for proper maintenance of the roads .... any form of development is impossible from this source."24 Before 1969, funds available for the residents of Ngangelizwe were even less. In that year, the Bantu Services Levy Act, No. 64, of 1952 was made applicable to Umtata. By taxing employers of African labor, the municipality hoped to receive additional annual revenue of R25,000, to be used for "a new water reticulation system, tarred main and access roads, reconstructed subsidiary roads, storm water drains, electric street lighting and possibly even water-borne sanitation." 25 Also in 1969, employers were required to pay a labor bureau fee of 20 cents per month for each African woman employed by them. 26 In a further attempt to earn additional revenue, the Town Council that year approved a loan of R6,000 for the establishment of a bottle store in Electricity Supply Commission. Umtata was thus forced to purchase electricity from East London at a cost of R15, 000 a month, 25 percent more than the cost of expanding the existing facilities. Moreover, given the necessity of buying some electricity, it became more economical for the municipality to buy it all, so it closed its generating station. The result was an electricity cost of3 cents rather than 2 cents per unit (Cooper interview). 24 Mayoral Minute, 1971-72. The actual status of the Bantu Revenue Account in 1971-72 was as follows: Expenses: Revenue: R30,084 Salaries, wages, and allowances Site and cottage rents R38,576 Water 8,000 Lodgers' fees 16,623 3,000 3,400 Road repairs and maintenance Fines Loan charges:interest and redemption 5,915 544 Sundry Building and installation maintenance 3,500 19,620 Labor bureau fees 12,999 R78,763 Total Sanitation R63,498 Total 25 Mayoral Minute, 1969-70. 26This fee was expected to add R3,000 to the Bantu Revenue Account.

[151]

Dismantling Apartheid

Ngangelizwe. Application was made for a liquor license, but when no response from Pretoria was forthcoming, the project was abandoned. 27 Over the years, additional income had been generated by taxing employers for each worker and by charging a fee for the recruitment of labor. There were still great shortfalls nevertheless. Desperately needed services were not provided, and by 1973 the deficit in the Bantu Revenue Account had reached R7,500. Loans on the beer halls constructed earlier to generate income had been redeemed, however, and "actual revenue is being derived from the sale of Bantu beer. The sums involved are very disappointing but may just be sufficient to balance the budget." "Registration fees" were increased from R.50 to Rl.50 per month per employer for ordinary employees, and from R.30 to R.50 per month for domestic workers. 28 Other funds were sought to improve conditions in Ngangelizwe. In 1972 the Town Council asked the Ministry of Bantu Administration and Development to take over Ngangelizwe and to allow council to use revenue from the Bantu Services Levy to meet its share of the expenses. According to the proposal, the Town Council, as agents for the South Mrican Bantu Trust, would continue to use the funds available to its Bantu Revenue Account for the administration and development of the township. 29 U mtata's mayor and the chairman of the NonEuropean Affairs Committee met in March 1973 with the minister of Bantu administration and development. After sending officials to U mtata to investigate the situation, the ministry agreed to the council's proposal. Ngangelizwe-along with Umtata's other black areas of Norwood and Ncambedlana-was to be transferred from the municipality to the South Mrican Bantu Trust. Plans were made to implement water and road projects totaling R613, 154. The new water system would give every site a tap; concrete water drains would be installed; the main bus route would be tarred; and all secondary roads would be reconstructed. The municipality would contribute a single sum of R160,000 from the Bantu Services Levy and thereafter R30,000 per year. 30 Because of the 1974 decision to grant independence to Transkei, however, the planned SABT takeover was rescinded. Mayoral Minute, 1969-70. Mayoral Minute, 1973-74, 1972-73. The increase in fees did not significantly augment income because almost half the employers were exempt on "some technicality" (Mayoral Minute, 1973-74). 29 Mayoral Minute, 1972-73. 30 Mayoral Minute, 1973-74. 27

28

[152]

Economic Dominance

Though N gangelizwe remained under the jurisdiction of the U mtata Town Council, the SABT did make an annual grant ofR90,000 for the township. Plans for this allowance were made by the N gangelizwe Township Advisory Board in consultation with the National Building Research Institute (Council for Scientific and Industrial Research), "in the belief that the local inhabitants, through their elected representatives, are in the best position to know what is needed and how best to allocate priorities within a limited budget."31 But the SABT subsidy was more than offset by new development activity associated with independence. At the end of 1976 the Ngangelizwe (formerly Bantu) Revenue Account showed a net deficit of R72,569. 32 The Transkei government agreed to meet the deficit. Even though there was insufficient improvement of living conditions, Pretoria's economic programs for Mricans were not limited to the entrepreneurs. The central government wanted ordinary Mricans to own their own homes. The houses and plots in Ngangelizwe, as a Bantu township, were owned by the municipality, and residents were only renters. With the advent of independence there were attempts to change the status of Ngangelizwe to a suburb, so that residents could acquire titles to their homes. In March 1976 the Town Council recommended to the Ministry of Bantu Administration and Development (a) that the Ngangelizwe township be deproclaimed and that occupiers be given title to their property; (b) that the government ofTranskei or the government of the Republic of South Africa provide the necessary funds, estimated to be about R415,224, which will be required immediately in order to give effect to this policy; (c) that the capital outlay ofR415,224 be recovered from the occupiers in due course by sale of the erven to the occupiers; (d) that the government ofTranskei adopt legislation enabling the municipality ofUmtata to levy a contribution ofRl.OO per employee per month from all non-domestic employers oflabour operating within its area of jurisdiction; (e) that the revenue derived from such a levy be used only for the purpose of subsidising the provisions and maintenance of municipal services in Ngangelizwe.33 Mayoral Minute, 1975-76. Minute, 1976-77. After independence, the provisions of the Bantu Labour Act and the Bantu Services Levy Act were replaced by the Labour Act of 1977. 33 Minutes of a special council meeting held 16 March 1976, to consider "the memo31

32 Mayoral

[153]

Dismantling Apartheid

Apparently the ministry took no action on the recommendation. In January and June 1977 the Umtata Town Council submitted essentially the same proposal to the Department of Local Government and Land Tenure of the Transkei government. 34 Again, no action was taken. Thus, the economic condition of Umtata's subordinate group changed very slightly. randum from the Department of Bantu Administration and Development on the future position of the white-controlled Transkeian municipalities and of the white municipal staff." 34 Mayoral Minute, 1976-77; Daily Dispatch, 26 August 1977.

[154]

[6] Ideological Dominance

The outsider visiting Umtata after independence could not avoid being struck by the ease with which apartheid was seemingly being dismantled. Even before the segregationalist laws were repealed, custom had already voided most of them, and following their official repeal there was surprisingly little intergroup conflict. The dominant group displayed very little bitterness; the subordinate group showed very little anger. Although tension was evident in specific instances, in general desegregation occurred without difficulty-largely because the two groups existed symbiotically, and neither could afford a serious rupture in their relationship. Yet neither could the outsider avoid being struck by the ease with which much of the old behavior persisted. "Yes, baas" remained a formula for pleasing dominant group members, many of whom still expected it. Many subordinate group members still selected secondclass facilities, went to the back door to be served, and usually deferred to dominant group members. Vehicles still seemed to rev their engines contemptuously and speed up as they approached Africans on crosswalks. In the shops, dominant group patrons continued to receive preferential attention. In the eyes of the dominant, subordinates remained a homogeneous and largely insignificant group. In part, this is explained by the economic, social, and other status differences between the two groups. Ultimately, however, the commonality in these observations is that while apartheid structures changed, the ideological underpinnings of apartheid had not been altered in any significant way. The laws were repealed, but the power of ideas was still at work. By [155]

Dismantling Apartheid

and large, despite modifications in the social structure, people continued to think in the same old ways. The role of ideology in the maintenance of dominance relationships is correctly attracting more attention from social theorists. 1 Many even see ideas as the primary means by which such relationships are established and perpetuated (Wartenburg, 1990: 6). Peter Miller, drawing heavily on Michel Foucault, agrees that ideology can be conceived as "the production of subjectivity," of world view. Power, he notes, "operates through the promotion of subjectivity.... It ... attempts to invest the individual with a series of personal objectives and ambitions .... It acts on the interior of the person, through the self" (1987: 2-3). 2 As elsewhere, social life in South Mrica is rooted in culture and organized in terms of symbols that reflect its ideology (Geertz, 1983: 21). Cultural ideology makes assumptions and establishes points of departure which are given, not subject to debate. That which an ideology take for granted has been called its "problematic." In any society, "fundamental change becomes the replacement of one problematic by another, not the surface alterations that are grounded within a single problematic and, to that extent, serve to reproduce a social formation, however modified" (Barnett, 1977: 275). Apartheid, as a form of human social organization, constitutes a culture and an ideology. 3 Its constituent ideas, myths, rituals, values, fears, norms, and symbolic behavior form an internally coherent system. The principal problematic in the apartheid system of course is white dominance. This could explain why so few ofUmtata.'s dominant group ever thought about being white and why they had so little interest in certain political issues. Some things are just "given." Leonard Thompson has discussed some main tenets of this problematic. One tenet, the idea that people of European descent are inherently superior to others, finds expression in the belief that "races are the fundamental divisions of humanity and that different races possess inherently different cultural as well as physical qualities" (1985: 69). Another tenet, the "vacant land" idea, justifies white hegemony over South Mrica on the grounds that Africans were not occupying the area when Europeans arrived. A third, the idea of the Covenant, interprets Michel Foucault, in particular, has inspired debate on this matter. The basic idea here is similar to Wartenberg's (1990) view that influence is the ultimate extension of power from "force" to "coercion" to "influence." 3 There are myths of origin, myths of European and African culture, and myth embodied in popular stereotypes. 1

2

[156]

Ideological Dominance

the Boer victory at Blood River in 1838 as signaling God's endorsement of Mrikaner rule. 4 Thompson correctly presents these tenets as myths. 5 But mythical or not, these ideas molded South Mrica's "social charter" and became major tools of domination. Apartheid ideology does not debate whether there are fundamental and meaningful differences between the races, whether whites are superior, or whether white dominance is legitimate; it takes these things for granted. Separate development preserved this problematic. This is why, despite desegregation, meaningful social change did not occur in Umtata. Hendrik Verwoerd's own statements about separate development made its relationship to apartheid explicit. If it were possible to retain one state in which the White man could continue to exercise his historic rule, Dr. Verwoerd said, that course would be preferred. But a throwing together of different communities into one common society, in a multiracial state, could not ensure the maintenance of goodwill. The people of South Africa could not accept the consequences of having a multiracial state unless the Whites, the Coloured and Indian were prepared to commit race suicide. It was only through a policy of good neighbourliness that there could be any hope of eliminating racial hatred. Separate states must, therefore, ultimately be created for the Bantu and the greatest possible degree of governmental separation must be given to the Coloured and Indians. [Race Relations Survey, 1962: 1977]

Even after independence and desegregation, many Umtata residents continued to express the ideas embodied in apartheid's problematic. Democracy won't work at this point in time. The Africans aren't ready for it.

Transkei's their country [unsaid: "Because South Africa is ours"]. Most people I know, black and white, are prejudiced. 4 The Slagtersnek myth, incorrectly locating the executions of Afrikaners by the British in 1816, firmly fixes the cultural notion of irreconcilable conflict between the two settler groups in South Africa. 5 They are now so regarded in contemporary South Africa. The liberals in the dominant group find these ideas distasteful. Archeologists have substantially debunked the "vacant land" theory, and the Dutch Reformed Church has even renounced its claim of divine right to rule South Africa.

[157]

Dismantling Apartheid The two groups have different cultures and different habits. Intermarriage is unnatural. Like lions and tigers mating. Only blacks should vote in Umtata, it's their town. Whites are here ... to bring knowledge to the blacks. They must learn to run their own affairs. The question is not one of race ... it's one of competence. Unfortunately, it takes many generations to be civilized. Tribal Africans are honest. One has protective feelings toward them. [Interviews]

These comments reveal how ideas presented as part of the "natural" order can become an integral part of the world view and self-image of many individuals, defining who they are and how they relate to others in the society. Jessica Benjamin's (1988) discussion of domination in gender relations offers insights into how this happens. Her analysis sees domination as a psychological matter, rooted in the paradoxical relationship between the self and the other. Domination (and submission) result from a breakdown of the tension between assertion of self and recognition of other. The self's wish for absoluteness clashes with its need for recognition. The other must exist in order to acknowledge the self. But the act of acknowledgment negates the self's notion of complete independence and control over everything outside itself. Marianna Torgovnick applies the same type of analysis to the "Western sense of self and other," explaining that "primitives" constitute the other to the Western self. In particular, she calls attention to the complex system of "images and ideas, and both visual and verbal modes of expression which contrast the 'primitive' with the 'westerner.'" These tropes "take the West as norm and define the rest as inferior, different, deviant, and subordinate." In the Western view, "primitives are like children .... Primitives are our untamed selves, our id forces-libidinous, irrational, violent, dangerous. Primitives are mystics, in tune with nature, part of its harmonies. Primitives are free. Primitives exist at the 'lowest cultural level'; we occupy the 'highest.'" Through the "lens of western myths" we see Africa as dark and dangerous: "Mrica is 'unknown' because Westerners do not know it .... The 'best' of Africa is white." In the end, however, "the West seems to need the primitive as a precondition and a supplement to its sense of self" (1990: 21, 41, 10, 246). [158]

Ideological Dominance

From the earliest days of European colonization, the principal justifications for European domination have been related to the notion of civilization. Africans were said to have failed to develop any form of civilization. Europe's task was to lead Mrica from barbarism to civilization. Indeed "civilization," "Western civilization," "Western Christian civilization," and lately, "Western democracy" and "capitalism" all eventually became vaguely synonymous (see, e. g., Lipscomb, 1955). In U mtata, the idea of a superior European civilization was supported by the corollary ascription of admirable virtues to traditional African culture. In the dominant group thinking, the "Reds" or "Xabas" were lauded as honest, hardworking, and honorable, while more educated, urban Africans were frequently feared as "uppity" troublemakers, anti-white radicals. As in the rest of South Mrica, the satisfying images of Africans were of quaint village women in traditional dress, performing traditional, nonthreatening tasks. These ideas were not always applied consistently however. Mystification serves to mask inconsistent thinking. Imprecise and variable notions about race, culture, history, universality, and nature are woven into a mystique that rationalizes and thereby protects the existing social order. The Xaba, for instance, were despised because of their "backwardness" and their lack of participation in "modern" culture, yet the preservation of the Xaba as conceptual reality affirmed the dominant group's permanent superiority. The idea of the Xaba-the original Mrican-was thus an essential concept in the ideology of European superiority, the one a prerequisite for the other. In the late 1970s more than three-fourths of Umtata's dominant group believed that whites possessed a higher level of civilization than the Bantu (blacks) and would continue to do so for many years to come (see Table 1). This belief is the contemporary version of the notion that races are inherently different and that Europeans are superior. Civilization is still largely ascribed. One cannot learn it. Furthermore, being 2,000 years "behind," Mricans cannot catch up. The notion that the dominant group will always be generations ahead rationalizes unequal social relationships in perpetuity. Very often a convenient lack of information, rather than prejudice, keeps the problematic intact. For instance, despite his lengthy tenure as a public figure, Arthur Chapman claimed to know nothing about Bantu education. He did not know what it was or how it was different from white education. Similarly, many dominant group members genuinely believed that Mricans did not have any legitimate grievances. In other words, among Umtata's dominant group the "natural order" was [159]

Dismantling Apartheid

not altered by separate development, and it was still a given that whites had proprietary rights in South Africa. Segregation was the secular ritual that expressed the idea of white superiority. The fact that there was extreme interdependence and frequent intimate interaction between dominant and subordinate group members made it all the more essential for a variety of symbolic forms to inculcate and enforce "ideal" race relations. Segregation, then, was not intended to prevent contact between Africans and whites; rather, it was intended to prevent equal-status contact. In this sense, apartheid can be viewed as a perpetual "social drama" in which all participants are compelled to ritually acknowledge the "ideal" relations between blacks and whites. As Verwoerd stressed, separate development was an alternative ritual, a different way of acting out "ideal'' race relations, in which segregation became redundant. The idea of separate, independent black states made the point about dominant-subordinate group relations in a much more forceful manner. Herein lies the key to the apparent ease with which desegregation occurred in U mtata; however, herein also lies the continuity of the apartheid problematic. How does change in a problematic occur? Marshall Murphree's (1983) discussion of white adjustment to sociopolitical change considers the distinction between "malleable" and "immalleable" attitudes. 6 Malleable attitudes are "little more than a reflection of social convention and behaviours determined by the social and political structure at any given time." They certainly do not constitute change in the problematic. Immalleable attitudes "may reflect certain 'primordial' sentiments-deep-seated fears, identity threats or deeply imbued basic values which are much more resistant to change." 7 Those ideas, attitudes, and sentiments that constitute the problematic of an ideology can feel as though they are primordial and would for that reason most likely be immalleable. Peter du Preez discusses the dominant group's immalleable ideology from another point of view. He distinguishes some fundamental "core constructs" that "govern the person's maintenance processes and constitute his identity." In earlier decades these constructs included the assumption that there was a single South African state consisting of several races. Later, the cultural ideology was revised so that South Africa was "multinational." In addition, there was the idea that national 6

7

Murphree cites Percy Cohen (1966) and Laurence Schlemmer (1978) in this regard. Murphree, 1983: 7, quoting P. Cohen, 1966. [160]

Ideological Dominance

and racial groups struggle to dominate each other and that those who do not join the struggle are lost. Even more fundamental in some thinking, therefore, was the assumption that white group identity must be maintained at all costs. Du Preez explains how this ideological system inhibits change on the part of many white South Africans: "The alternatives are unthinkable, and we are here referring to alternatives as they construe them." In particular, the alternatives to retaining grqup identity would be physical or cultural suicide (1972: 23). The majority of subordinate group members in a society also function within the ideological system of the dominant group. As Benjamin (1988) stresses, domination is a two-way system that transforms all parts of the psyche of the dominated as well as the dominators. Dominant groups determine the prevailing ideas and values for the entire society. Unless the subordinate group subscribes to these ideas and values, domination cannot occur. Ideological dominance, put simply, is the ability to impose one's self-serving world view on others in the society. To quote the administrator of the Transvaal, "We must strive to win the fight against the non-white in the classroom instead of losing it on the battlefield."8 So it was in U mtata. Formal education, as well as informal socialization, instilled the dominant group's world view and value system on the subordinate population. Before and after independence, many Africans spurned radicals and trouble-makers who challenged the status quo. As an African university lecturer explained: "The black man looked up to the white. Even if the black were better off than the white, he couldn't stand up to him .... in his mind, it will be quite a while before he realizes he is equal. ... Blacks have changed somewhat, but they are still not on a par with whites .... Also, the black had no power even to stand on his own in the face of physical force. He had no choice" (interview). Evidence of subordinate group internalization of dominant group ideas was everywhere. A prominent African businessman and member of the Trusted Ten, for example, asserted that there had been no black traders not because of any prohibition but because blacks did not have "the trading tradition. Licenses would have been granted if blacks had applied." Similarly, a Coloured informant, employed as a foreman in a local construction company, described his firm's multiracial annual party in the following terms: s Onderwysblad, 1 July 1961. [161]

Dismantling Apartheid

I was the only colored guest, but there were quite a few blacks (about ten in a group of two hundred). The only other Coloureds there were servants. They were a great embarrassment to me. After serving everyone, they joined in the party. They walked around with beer bottles in one hand, pieces of meat in the other. They spoke on several occasions in familiar fashion to the firm's directors. And they even started dancing on the dance floor. They had no partners. The whites quietly left the floor. Eventually they had to be asked to leave. I was embarrassed by my own kind because people will associate me as a Coloured with these people." At various other times, the same man had the following comments: Some people accuse me of thinking I'm white because I don't live with [Coloreds] or always associate with them. I just don't particularly like their life-style .... The quickest way to get me angry is for someone to talk about their white friends, their this, their that .... I don't like the fact that I and others cannot vote and that some of these young white boys are going to decide my future .... I'm not sure about one man, one vote. I'm not sure the blacks are ready; look at Rhodesia and elsewhere .... I usually like walking in the shade so I won't get darker. It is instructive to recall once again Mydral's observation that even subordinate group opinions of their own problems are usually secondary reactions to the primary forces from the dominant group. It is common for subordinate groups to internalize crippling, selfdeprecating ideas that serve to bolster the dominant group. Meaningful social change is therefore a matter not simply of altering the dominant group ideology but also of changing the thinking of the subordinate group. In fact, to the degree that it accepts the dominant view of the world, the subordinate group too will, paradoxically, feel disoriented if change occurs. Succumbing to ideological dominance can lead to intriguing rationalizations. In U mtata, for instance, many of the subordinate group beneficiaries of separate development found ways to justify their participation in Pretoria's program yet vehemently disavow complicity with the government's master plan. These people, many of whom now enjoyed high-paying jobs, lived in formerly white suburbs, and drove a Mercedes Benz or a BMW, claimed that Transkei was not a bantustan at all-that its independence was rooted in the region's history, not in separate development. They were not apartheid's lackeys; they were simply capitalizing on separate development to create a country they could justify on a historical basis. [162]

Ideological Dominance

Genuine social change, because it alters a society's problematic, is always confusing-for dominant and subordinate groups alike. People become uncertain of their roles, their new social identities, and the appropriate norms. Consequently, while the culture provides the broad parameters and the normative predispositions within which adjustments are made, the actual accommodation by individuals is partially a process in which actors react on the basis of their interests, options, values. To this extent, therefore, adjustment is an ad hoc ideology reformulation, "a process of rationalization and reconciliation of contradictory elements in the totality of their experience" (Murphree, 1983: 14). For dominant group members, rationalizing continued dominance rather than racial prejudice is often the principal driving force (Wellman, 1977). On the other hand, some adjustment is also a collective process. To avoid erosion of the root problematic, cultures such as South Africa's culture of dominance must be able to adjust to new social realities. They must be dynamic. They must adapt. In U mtata, where new rules governing dominant-subordinate group interaction demanded it, there was adaptation of relevant ideas, adaptations that protected apartheid's problematic. Where no such demand existed, old ideas were retained. 9 Therefore, whether there was structural change in Umtata is only one important question. Another is, what did any changes mean? Did people change their basic ideology? Did they change the way they understood their relationship to others? Did new symbols, new norms, new social forms contain the same or different meanings? The interpretive anthropologists correctly stress that meaning is conferred within a systemic context. Social life everywhere, says Clifford Geertz, is organized in terms of symbols whose meaning "we must grasp if we are to understand that organization and formulate its principles." Geertz's characterization of the way the world of gods often constitutes a template for the world of men applies to secular ideological "charters" as well as religious ones: "The state enacts an image of order. . . . the populace at large does not merely view that state's expressions as so many gaping spectators but is caught up bodily in them .... the sort of'we surrender and are changed' power of drama to shape experience is the strong force that holds the polity together. 9 Interestingly, 52 percent of my respondents indicated that their views on race relations had changed. Of these, 7l percent said their views had changed in a more liberal direction; 12 percent a more conservative direction. Significantly, over half (54 percent) said the change was due to the experience of living in U mtata.

[163]

Dismantling Apartheid

Reiterated form, staged and acted by its own audience, makes . . . theory fact" (1983: 21, 30). To gather data on changing ideas and attitudes, a stratified, random sample ofUmtata's dominant group was interviewed eighteen months after independence. 10 The outcome confirmed that some dominant group ideas seem indeed to have been malleable, while apartheid's problematic was not. Although only 14 percent thought ofTranskei as "home," the dominant group in Umtata appeared content with the new social order. The vast majority said their lives were satisfactory or very good, and they were optimistic about their future. Financial gain was the most attractive prospect. Nearly half gave an unqualified yes to the question of recommending Umtata to someone thinking of going there. 11 Almost half of the dominant population had been living in Transkei before the issue of independence surfaced. Their residence in the homeland was therefore based on considerations that had not anticipated the changes. On the other hand, slightly more than half came to U mtata after the announcement of independence. Their decision was thus made with full knowledge that some changes in race relations would be made. They had apparently already accommodated the notion of moving away from traditional apartheid. The malleability of certain norms and the immalleability of the problematic were clear. The most visible consequence of change in Umtata, for example, was desegregation. Prior to independence, the Pass Laws, segregated facilities, job reservation, prohibitions on cer10 The questionnaires were administered by white research assistants, male and female, Afrikaans- and English-speaking. 11 Only 17 percent were either fairly or extremely pessimistic about whites' future; one-fifth were neither pessimistic nor optimistic. Few respondents were able to give specific reasons for liking U mtata, but the most frequent were its multiracial character (5 percent), economic and financial benefits (12 percent), proximity to the Wild Coast (15 percent), peace and quiet (18 percent), and satisfactory work (5 percent). By far, lack of amenities, facilities, and consumer products was regarded as the biggest liability (28 percent). Some also complained about the social life (17 percent). The inability of noncitizens to buy property and the preferential treatment of Africans were regarded as serious drawbacks. The dominant group felt welcome in Umtata, and one in four planned to stay permanently. Nearly one-third expressed the desire to be Transkei citizens, mainly because they were "born and bred" there or because "one should throw his lot in with the others." Most did not want to become citizens, however, because they were uncertain about future events, did not want to give up their South African citizenship, or were put off by Transkei's lack of international recognition as a legitimate country.

[164]

Ideological Dominance

tain types of interracial contact were norms. It is fair to say that most of the dominant group approved of these norms. But much of the segregationalist legislation was repealed in 1976. Though desegregation did not lead to substantial racial integration, public desegregation became a fact, and norms apparently accommodated this reality. Desegregation had "no effect" on the patronage of public facilities for over two-thirds of the dominant group. 12 Similarly, doing away with job reservation posed few problems, even though both public and private sectors eliminated discriminatory covenants and appointed Africans to posts previously reserved for whites. In fact, 86 percent of the dominant group said that blacks should hold equal or higher jobs under certain circumstances. 13 Most said the only issue should be ability, experience, and qualifications. The new premium placed on merit illustrates that people's ideas can be malleable so long as the "new" ideas are consistent with their ideology's problematic. Although the idea of merit was a familiar concept, it had not previously been employed in the governing of intergroup relations. Its appeal in a postsegregation context-as opposed to affirmative action for instance-was that it rationalized continued privilege for the dominant group. The ideas among Umtata's dominant group regarding their political roles and their political rights also illustrates how some concepts can change while core constructs are unaltered. As required by apartheid, before 1977 whites had governed the town exclusively. Africans had no 12 The dominant group usually socialized in their homes. The most popular activities were sports, playing cards, dinner and dancing, drinking, talking, and watching television. Virtually none of this entertainment involved subordinate group members. By contrast, 85 percent had Africans working for them in their homes. Twenty-three percent reported that they used public facilities less frequently, noting that the "places are too disorderly"; they were "unaccustomed to mixing with blacks"; or the "facilities are dirty." 13 Care was taken, though, not to place Africans in decision-making positions where they would affect whites or in which they would supervise whites. Even where such instances appeared to exist, as in government, the white "adviser" or "subordinate" was usually effectively responsible to the whites elsewhere in South Africa who hired him and paid his salary. Moreover, crucial decisions by Mricans (for example, about wages and taxes) did not apply to whites as "foreign nationals." As a result of Pretoria's policy and whites' better education, appropriate experience, and incumbency, virtually none lost jobs in favor of Africans. Housing is another example. After 1976 Africans were not limited to renting poor-quality housing in the less desirable townships; they could legally buy homes anywhere in these towns. For most whites, however, though they accepted the principle of desegregated neighborhoods, having an Mrican neighbor had not yet become a reality.

[165]

Dismantling Apartheid

direct political voice. Only eighteen months after independence, however, 86 percent of whites accepted both groups' sharing a common voters' roll based on one person, one vote. Not a single respondent thought whites in Umtata preferred a whites-only franchise. 14 Regarding their own role, however, 27 percent of the dominant group did not know whether they were eligible to vote in municipal elections, and 36 percent were certain (incorrectly) that they were ineligible to vote. 15 Over half ofUmtata's whites subscribed to the apartheid idea that each group had political rights in its "own area." The frequent comment was, "It's their country." 1 6 The dominant elite was not prepared, however, to relinquish political control of the town so easily. They claimed to have rejected the old apartheid ideas and adopted the ideology that U mtata was now "nonracial." But just as shifting to a merit-based employment system provided an ideological framework for the dominant group to try to retain the most desirable jobs, the idea of a nonracial political system provided the conceptual basis for the elite to continue its political dominance. Some dominant group ideas were less malleable, and some ideas did not have to adapt because the social realities had not changed. Sharing schools was a case in point. The majority of U mtata whites opposed school integration, and since the privatized white schools in Umtata were not open to African children or intended to become so, there was no need to accommodate a new reality. Over half of the respondents explained that desegregation would lower the standard of education; 39 percent stated that whites either did not want to mix with Africans or felt superior to Mricans; and 37 percent said that whites did not want to be "swamped" by the larger numbers of Mricans. Even those who accepted school integration used apartheid reasoning; they said that discrimination against Africans was not appropriate because Transkei was an Mrican or multiracial country, or that "whites were in no position to object." 14 The

10 percent who "didn't know" came the closest. All whites became "aliens" and thereby ineligible to participate in Transkei national elections, but they could continue to vote in municipal elections. In actual fact, though, only 21 percent of whites did vote in 1977. All their votes were cast for members of the Trusted Ten, with Chapman and Johns being the most popular (19 percent), followed by Sparg, Lekota, and Zuma (18 percent). 16 One-fourth agreed with the proposition that Africans should be allowed to manage their own country and should start learning; with respect to the same proposition, a further 26 percent simply asked, "Why not?" 15

[166]

Ideological Dominance

Interestingly, and significantly, it seems that the people with the strongest links to Transkei found it most difficult to relinquish the symbols and structures of dominance. Only 16 percent of respondents born outside Transkei said that life in U mtata had changed for the worse, but 30 percent of those born in Transkei found life worse. Of permanent residents, 28 percent found life worse, compared with only 15 percent and 19 percent respectively of the seconded and transferred respondents. Forty percent of the whites who called themselves Transkeians found life worse, compared with 16 percent of"South Africans" and 17 percent of "Afrikaners." Although only 17 percent of the total white population thought that life was worse, 38 percent of the fluent Xhosa speakers, 50 percent of former property owners, and 22 percent of current property owners thought so. Similarly, on the subject of desegregating U mtata's schools, 60 percent of whites born in Transkei objected, as opposed to 47 percent of those born elsewhere in South Africa. To further gauge the degree of ideological adaptation in U mtata, the questionnaire used some of the same questions as those put to a national sample of whites. 17 The results showed significant differences between U mtata whites and whites nationwide, adding more weight to the conclusion that some norms, values, and ideas had adapted for the dominant group living in Umtata. Each sample was asked to indicate agreement with the statements shown in Table 1. The responses show marked differences between Umtata whites and whites nationwide on the three ideas about race relations. This suggests ideological change in U mtata, yet the change hardly altered the fundamental problematic. Most strikingly, over three-fourths of Umtata whites agreed that it would be years before blacks reached the same level of civilization as whites (see Preston-Whyte, 1976: 79). That is, despite the overwhelming support for allowing Africans the franchise, desegregation of public facilities, equal jobs, and the like, the dominant group in Umtata could not foresee the day when Mricans would be their social equals. Moreover, 52 percent believed that whites and blacks were not even inherently equal. It is apparent, then, that the underlying assumptions and premises of dominance were not significantly modified. 17 Schlemmer (1978), using the Market and Opinion Survey organization, randomly selected a sample of 1,352 Afrikaans-speaking whites and 946 other, mainly Englishspeaking whites.

[167]

Dismantling Apartheid Table 1. Agreement

Statement

Nationwide

Umtata

88%

76%

Inherently, the whites and the Bantu (blacks) are equals.

18%

48%

Bantu should not be allowed to mix with whites at all.

26%

3%

Even if the Bantu were to reach the same level of development as the white man, I should not want to mix with them on an equal footing.

40%

13%

It will be many years before the Bantu (blacks) reach

the same level of civilization as the white man.

Both samples were similarly asked about majority rule in South Africa. The question was, "Which two of the following would, in your opinion, be the most likely changes that would come about if nonwhites were to govern South Africa? Please indicate two of them." The responses are summarized in Table 2. 18 Since the dominant group in Umtata was mainly English-speaking, a further comparison was made with just the English speakers nationwide (see Table 3). 19 For some statements, there were no statistically significant differences in agreement between whites in Umtata and English-speaking whites nationally, but with regard to equal jobs, blacks living in white residential areas, and the repeal of the Immorality Act, the circumstances ofUmtata did seem to be related to different views. 20 It appears, on the whole, that dominant group ideology in South Africa does adjust in a postsegregation setting. This observation contrasts sharply with the belief that fixed racial images and stereotypes have an iron grip on white thinking in South Africa. It is simply not the 18 There

was a high (15 percent) no-response rate to this question. Fifty-nine percent of the nationwide sample but only 25 percent of the Umtata sample was Afrikaans-speaking. Because, as Schlemmer (1978) reports, "the English speaking group is more 'liberal' throughout the range of responses," comparison with only the English-speaking responses nationwide acts as a check on the underrepresentation of Afrikaans speakers in Umtata. Nienwoudt and Plug (1983) also found the attitudes of English-speaking whites toward Africans much more favorable. 20 Apropos the proposition that a more liberal social structure fosters more liberal attitudes, it is noteworthy that on the question of abolishing the Immorality Act the Umtata sample was significantly different in a more conservative direction. 19

[168]

Ideological Dominance Table 2. Statement

Nationwide Afrikaans

English

Umtata

The way of life and culture of the whites would have to change.

18%

46%

44%

The income and standard of living of the whites would be lowered.

34%

42%

25%

The language and culture of the Afrikaner would be undermined.

14%

9%

12%

Whites would intermarry with nonwhites.

9%

6%

15%

The order and security of our society would be threatened.

80%

50%

29%

The jobs and work security of whites would be threatened.

37%

29%

29%

Table 3. Statement

Agreement English Speakers Nationwide

Umtata

Admission of blacks to the same job as whites.

85%

96%

Blacks and whites together in sporting teams.

92%

93%

Blacks and whites worshiping together in the same churches.

88%

93%

Abolition of the Immorality Act.

53%

43%

Permission for certain blacks to move into white residential areas.

53%

82%

case that "blacks are seen as so radically and essentially different from whites that the idea of sharing anything with them or being influenced by them is almost inconceivable" (Fredrickson, 1985: 32). It does appear true, however, that in a postsegregation setting the problematic of white dominance can remain essentially unaltered. Whether conceptualized as "apartheid" or "separate development," [169]

Dismantling Apartheid

dominant group ideas as to who should be preeminent remained unchanged. Some of the ideological change in U mtata-support for one person, one vote; assigning jobs on the basis of merit; establishing nonracial political structures-appeared to be progressive, but in fact, much of it could be simply a reformulation of the old apartheid ideas. Clearly, ideas serve different purposes and have different meanings in different social contexts. Despite the stresses, most of Umtata's whites seemed to welcome many of the new ideas. The sharp inconsistency between the practice of apartheid and other culturally based ethical principles generated "cognitive dissonance" in many of them. Myrdal called attention to the contradiction between the founding values of the United States and the treatment of African Americans in his study An American Dilemma (1962). There appears to be a corresponding dilemma in South Africa. Crapanzano noted: "The life of those white South Africans with whom I talked. . . . impressed me as somehow truncated. I found signs of anxiety, helplessness, vulnerability, and rage that were not very far from the surface."21 Dissonance within the dominant group may also explain the finding that "black pupils tend to be more assertive, better [politically] informed and much more confident to debate and disagree in group discussion. . . . it bodes ill for whites' ability to operate comfortably in a nonracial environment."22 A charming elderly woman who had been in Transkei for fifty years expressed the kinds of contradictory sentiments that are commonplace in Umtata: "Africans have been quite well treated, compared with other places ... but I wonder whether they are ready ... look at the bribes . . . . I'm not belittling them, but they are in positions of trust .... they are not ready. I oppose 'one person, one vote' in South Africa .... I have no black personal friends. When Transkei independence was looming, I feared the blacks might run amuck." Elsewhere in the interview, she reported: Four years ago, my husband died suddenly. From that day on, the maid slept in the room with me, and I was very touched. These people are my friends .... Mary was brought to me by her mother when she was sick. She is slightly crippled. She has lived with me for over thirty years. The 21 Quoted in Fredrickson (1985: 30). The new nonracialism in the homelands offers such psychological relief that survey questions alluding to old apartheid norms were occasionally regarded as insulting. 22 De11Wcracy in Action, September 1989.

[170]

I de a logical Dominance

other girl, Nancy, is my old aunt's nurse. When she died, we couldn't afford to keep them on. But she stayed .... I'm paying poor wages-I can't afford more. But they each have a nice room, mattress, and food. If they bring in a law of minimum wage, I would have to get rid of them and tum them into the street .... The servants themselves say they would rather stay.... I was in a shop the other day and a black man walked up to me and said, "You're Mrs. Jones. I haven't seen you since the master died." With that, he pressed a 20-cent piece into my hand. I inquired later and found that it was a Xhosa custom. I didn't realize it, though I have lived among them for so long. It was a lovely gesture.

An Mrikaans-speaking Umtata resident had these remarks: Girls come to me and complain about these foreign whites. They pay high salaries-much more than I can afford-but they are terrible to work for. They don't get any food, don't get the hand-me-down clothes .... Here my girl's wage is basically pocket money. I take care of her other needs. Whenever she is sick, and she has a chronic illness, she comes to me. I say, "Now Margaret, we're off to the hospital." She protests because she is afraid of the injections. But she gets these asthma attacks. I then insist, and I tell her, "Get in the car." We go to the hospital, get the shots, and she's fine for weeks ... . On one occasion ... my girl was sick. I took her to the hospital and the doctor prescribed all sorts of medicine. I then took her home to [the location]. I stopped at the superintendent's office, told him my mission, and obtained a permit to enter the location. I went to the girl's address, and a large crowd of people came round as we arrived. I said to themsisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, friends, and so on-"You put this girl straight to bed." Then I turned to the group. I gave one some tablets and said, "You see that she gets these tablets every hour on the hour." Then I turned to the next one and said, "You see that she takes these tablets three times a day before meals." And so I went around the crowd until all the medicine was gone. Then I said, "If you don't follow instructions, you'll have to answer to me." With that, I left. Several days later a boy arrived with the largest bunch of flowers I've ever seen. He said it was a token of appreciation from these people. Later I was told that they were so frightened that they dared not disobey my orders. They still talk about the fire in my eyes .... But I don't know whether it's because these Scots, Irish, and so on, aren't used to having servants, but they treat them terribly. We went to dinner the other night at the home of a Scots family. I looked through the serving window between the kitchen and dining room, and the servants

[171]

Dismantling Apartheid

were still there. It was 11:45 P.M. and we were just starting our sweet. Dinner started at 7:30P.M., and that girl has to be in to serve them breakfast in the morning. It's disgusting. I've had girls come to me and say, "Can't you find me other work? ... The pay is good, but I can't work there." ... I've had many who say they want to work for Afrikaans families. They prefer Mrikaans. Firstly, they say that they can't understand the English of these people. Secondly, they don't treat them properly. I've found several girls work with new families from Europe, but soon they come and say they are unhappy. Because apartheid's harshness clashed with much of the intimate human interaction in U mtata, cognitive dissonance affected many in the dominant group. Doing away with the disconcerting aspects of apartheid without sacrificing the core problematic actually helped ameliorate dissonance for dominant group members. It allowed them to acquire a more satisfying self-image, while simultaneously retaining the institutions of their dominance. 23 A prominent psychologist put it this way in an interview: "The South African situation is paradise for whites. Transkei is the greatest paradise. It is the best of both worlds!" It is important to note that the dominant group already subscribed to democratic and egalitarian principles. Government by consent of the governed; one person, one vote; the right to freedom of movement; merit as the criterion for social rewards-these were widely accepted ideas. They were not employed in relation to the subordinate group but were nevertheless part of the dominant group's ideology. Therefore, its members, in adjusting to change in U mtata, were not compelled to adopt entirely new ideas. They were only asked to apply familiar ideas in a new but nonthreatening context. Presumably, this was easier than inculcating completely unfamiliar norms. Furthermore, ideological adaptation in Umtata was situationally specific. As Joe, Anna, and others pointed out (see "Portraits of Dominance"), the norms of Umtata did not apply in Pretoria. People who accepted the demise of job reservation were not agreeing to a universal norm of colorblind job opportunity; they were saying that Africans 23 Cognitive dissonance does not affect everyone equally. Vander Zanden, noting Gunnar Myrdal's idea that there was a struggle in America between the democratic creed of equality and justice and its segregated, castelike system, commented: "For most Southern whites there is no such moral dilemma. The doctrine of Negro inferiority or 'difference' serves to place the Negro beyond the pale of the America democratic creed" (1959: 399). A similar comment could be made for many U mtata whites.

[172]

Ideological Dominance

should enjoy equal access to jobs in U mtata. Or, even more obviously, supporters of one person, one vote in U mtata were not advocating that practice for all of South Africa. Like people elsewhere, whites in Umtata subscribed to more than one ideological system simultaneously, and they selected norms as the situation dictated. 24 Some argue that identity is at the heart of the matter. Crapanzano comments: What I found extraordinary about the identity play of the two white groups was the insignificance of non-whites. They simply did not enter the self-constituting discourse of the whites, although their potential threat to the whites' "way of life" (not their personhood) was certainly acknowledged .... Blacks, Coloureds, and Asians were not "significant others" from whose standpoint the white could look reflectively at himself and discover, so to speak, his identity. They were too different-and too distant. Here, I believe, we must take account of the ontological, or perhaps more accurately the psycho-ontological, dimensions of apartheid. It is more than a political stance. It is more than a response to a particular economic arrangement. It is an ontology that affects the very being of its adherents. Apartheid is the product of an essentialist racism in which people of color are considered to be quintessentially different from whites and cannot, as such, enter in any meaningful way into the formation of white identity. [1985: 39]

Because their individual and collective identities were inextricably linked to the problematic of apartheid society, whites in Umtata remained imbued with the culture of dominance even as the social structure changed. This explains, in part, why they could not initiate fundamental change. They did accommodate new circumstances in their social, political, and economic lives in the ways already described. More important, however, by exercising their only remaining powerand the ultimate power vested in all dominant groups-they reasserted control over the community's ideology. They quickly promoted the values, norms, ideas, and world view that best served their sectoral interests. In accepting a revised ideology, the subordinate group reinforced the dominant group's dominance. 24

See Epstein, 1958; Mitchell, 1960; A. Cohen, 1966.

[173]

[7] A Culture of Dominance

The objective of the U mtata study was to gather empirical information about the dynamics of social change. The ethnography demonstrates the strong impact of the forces of social control upon the forces of change. In particular, Umtata emphasizes the fact that socially dominant groups can significantly influence the direction and speed of the change process with a view to maximizing their continued dominance. It shows how social change can be "managed" and how manipulating change can be a mechanism of social control. We see how dominant groups use their power to impose self-serving norms and values on the society, creating a normative setting that is conducive to their continued dominance. Although these norms and values are primarily designed to serve the narrow, sectoral interests of the dominant group, they are represented as universal, as essential for the common good. Mechanically, we see how social change can occur if the bases of stratification are modified, allowing patterns of social group formation across old boundaries. By taking the initiative in this process, however, a dominant elite can ensure that it remains at the apex of any new social order. With respect to South Africa as a whole, Umtata focuses our attention on the culture of dominance that largely determines the behavior of the dominant group in that country-a culture whose world view makes it difficult to conceive of living with others without being in a privileged, superordinate, controlling position. The set of interlocking myths, fears, attitudes, values, ideas, and norms enmeshed in this culture has been described in the foregoing chapters. [174]

A Culture of Dominance

Events in Umtata were part of the separate development program and thus served the broader interests of white dominance in South Mrica. Except for the whites who continued to live in Umtata, the culture of dominance was not seriously challenged. The change that is pressing itself on South Mrica today, though, seems to threaten the culture of white dominance. In pressing for a democratic, egalitarian, nonracial system, this change is demanding that the whites relinquish their privilege. Some white groups, such as the radical right, have vowed to fight to the death. Others, such as the white elite, want to direct the change and preserve their dominance in many of the same ways as occurred in Umtata. In many surprising ways Umtata is a precursor of events elsewhere in South Africa. In the 1990s, dominant groups in small towns in the Cape-among them, Ashton, Montagu, and Robertson-have been confronted with consumer boycotts, demonstrations, and other actions in support of subordinate groups' demands for an equal voice in town affairs. 1 By and large, they are yielding. In areas of the Transvaal, such as Nelspruit-White River and Middelburg, subordinate group members and business leaders are meeting to negotiate a system of "one city, one tax base" nonracial local government. 2 Other white town councils and the dominant groups they represent are now actively seeking integration and cooperation with the subordinate groups with whom they live. Kimberley and the African township of Galeshewe, for example, have formed a joint municipal administration, after negotiations between the two councils and the Galeshewe Civic Association. The mayor reported, "We . . . had to work out an innovative new method of governing and administering the affairs of greater Kimberley within existing legislation." 3 Elements of this method included a liaison committee-representing the two councils and the civic association-to the town clerk of Kimberley, and financial assistance from the Kimberley City Council to Galeshewe. The central government has been supportive of the trend toward local authorities that are "autonomous, directly elected and nonracial" ever since the 1990 Thornhill report. 4 A 1991 government report on Weekend Argus, 2 June 1990. Business Day, 19 December 1990. 3 Sowetan, 8 October 1990. 4 The Thornhill Committee, a committee of the Council for the Co-ordination of Local Government Affairs, investigated the possibility of a uniform local government system and concluded that such a system would be neither feasible nor desirable. 1

2

[175]

Dismantling Apartheid

systems oflocal government eliminates all reference to race and offers four models for communities to choose from by means of negotiation. 5 In fact, the Council for the Co-ordination of Local Government Affairs, comprising both black and white local authorities, has proposed that the process of national negotiation on a new constitution begin at the local level and move from there to the regional and then to the national level. 6 U mtata casts interesting perspectives on national developments as well as municipal affairs. President Frederik W. De Klerk's remarks to the 1991 opening session of Parliament confirm that the entire South Mrican society is now in transition: "The South Mrican statute book will be devoid, within months, of the remnants of racially discriminatory legislation which have become known as the cornerstones of apartheid." Moreover, the substance of these remarks (New York Times, 2 February 1991) reveals how the dominant elite hopes to manage the change process by formulating its own particularistic and sectoral interests in terms of universalistic and national interests, by imposing its own definitions of the new values and norms, and by setting the parameters within which change will be negotiated: "On these broad basic values and ideals we can found a new South Mrican nation." Umtata shows how there can actually be substantial dismantling of apartheid in South Mrica without meaningful alterations in status and power relationships between dominant and subordinate groups. In other words, there can be "change, but no change." In Umtata, Mricans were historically subordinated as a result of their race and their class. Apartheid's preoccupation with race meant that allowing class to become a more important social variable partially redefined the basis of social status. Some Africans assumed positions that had formerly been closed to them; however, since virtually all the dominant whites possessed the requisite class credentials and the vast majority of Mricans did not, in practice there was little change in the day-to-day status positions of the dominant and subordinate groups. There was change in the social organization, but basic group relationships remained much the same. F. Van Zyl Slabbert, former leader of the Progressive Federal Party (PFP), is among the few white South Mricans to acknowledge candidly that "the underlying issue is not really Apartheid . . . [but] White 5 6

Argus, 21 January 1991. Sunday Times, II November 1990. [176]

A Culture of Dominance

Minority Domination: socially, economically and politically" (1987: 3). He has noted, perceptively: A major source of confusion between the South African Government and its opponents, both inside and outside the country, concerns the different contents given to the concepts of reform, dismantling apartheid, negotiation and democratic government. The key to two divergent sets of interpretations to these concepts revolves around two contradictory views on white political domination or white political "self-determination" (as it is euphemistically stated by the National Party Government). In the one case white domination is adjusted or "softened" to accommodate black, coloured and Asian aspirations and in this respect apartheid can be dismantled as much as is necessary to achieve this and the government declares itself willing to "negotiate" this process for purposes of"broadening democracy." In the other case "white domination" itself has to disappear at the end of dismantling apartheid and what has to be negotiated is not the process of dismantling, but the transfer of minority racial power to a democratic alternative based on a non-racial universal franchise. [1986: 1] With this point in mind, it is most significant that De Klerk has taken the liberty "offormulating a set of ... common values and ideals ... for the new South Africa." 7 The ruling group wants to adjust white domination, not do away with it. To retain its dominance, the current elite is trying to recapture its role as guardian of the society's value system. This is important because "the continuing influence of an elite depends upon two factors: (1) the continuing significance of their special functions, and (2) the degree to which they successfully perform that function" (Prewitt and Stone, 1973: 22). One special function of every dominant elite is to articulate the values and norms for the society as a whole. Recognizing this, South Africa's elite, through F. W. De Klerk, is now attempting to do just that. Since white supremacy is no longer a tenable ideology, to maintain its dominant position the elite must reject apartheid and become accepted as the legitimate voice of the majority of South Africans. Accomplishing this is the key to continued dominance! The text of the manifesto De Klerk unveiled in 1991 is itself of great interest. Among other things, it says, "We commit ourselves to the creation of a free and democratic political system in South Africa .. 7 Cape

Times, 2 February 1991. [177]

Dismantling Apartheid

All the people of our land shall participate fully at all levels of government on the basis of universal adult franchise; the government of the country shall at all times be based upon the consent of the governed; all people shall be equal before the law, and shall enjoy equal rights regardless of race, colour, sex or creed; ... all discrimination between groups of people or between individuals shall be eliminated and discriminatory legislation shall be repealed." 8 These values and those of apartheid, which De Klerk and the National Party championed until only a few years ago, are antithetical. Yet the mystification of South Africa's change process has thus far been so effective that few focus on this fact. Incredibly, one government minister even argued: "It is nothing short of an anachronistic portrayal to refer to the Government as an 'apartheid regime.' The Government is in fact part of the 'anti-apartheid struggle.' " 9 Similarly, few focus on the fact that the new values are actually the very ones that the liberation movements have espoused all along. At one point, Nelson Mandela even quipped that the ANC welcomed De Klerk's "belated acceptance of the principle that all people in our country are one nation." 10 But the core criterion for dominance is the ability to impose one's sectoral values on the society as a whole. Democracy and nonracialism have become public values only since the dominant group, out of selfinterest, embraced them. This is not at all to underestimate the effectiveness of the anti-apartheid struggle. Its persistent and forceful demands compelled changes on the part of the dominant group. Nonetheless, "democratic" government became national policy only when the ruling elite endorsed it. That it could make such a radical shift in fundamental principles in such a short period of time clearly shows that, rather than forfeit superordinance, the dominant elite in South Africa is willing to jettison many racist structures.ll As in Umtata, in order to justify its claim on continued dominance, the ruling elite is quickly incorporating the requisite values into its own stated ideology. Several points deserve emphasis. First, even in a society with a history of apartheid, theories of ethnicity are insufficient to explain these events. Rather, the concept of social dominance, especially with 8 Ibid.

Minister of Constitutional Development Gerrit Viljoen, quoted in "Update on Constitutional Negotiations," South Africa Briefing Paper, June 1990. 10 Business Day, 4 February 1991. 11 This fact supports the view that race is an epiphenomenon, a tool to be manipulated by dominant groups. 9

[178]

A Culture of Dominance

respect to dominant elites, provides a more relevant theoretical frame of reference. Second, there are crucial distinctions to be made between dismantling the institution of apartheid and altering the reality of dominance in South Africa. The dominant elite is seeking change in one, no change in the other. The government's handling of white demands underscores the fact that ethnicity is not the paramount variable in the current change process. Extremist right-wing organizations such as Orde Boerevolk, the Transvaal Separatists, and the Solidarity Party have called on President De Klerk to hold a referendum "in which all South Africans could exercise their choice for either a volkstaat or a unitary state." 12 Since the dominant elite no longer obtains its legitimacy from the white public, the government is ignoring this demand. Similarly, to gain initial support, the dominant elite, via De Klerk, had to promise to consult the white electorate before agreeing to a new constitution, but now that white support for the new dispensation is questionable, new plans are emerging for an "all-race" referendum in which white responses can be diluted by black votes. 13 Being able to isolate white responses could technically satisfy the commitment to consultation without giving whites the opportunity to reject an agreement acceptable to the dominant elite. In other words, ethnicity is not an overriding variable in the dominant elite's behavior. As in U mtata, the dominant elite will try to secure a broader mandate. It will become the champion of nonracialism and appeal to people of color to use merit rather than ethnicity as the criterion for leadership. Toward this end, it has already seriously begun to redirect public and private resources to its future black constituency. The new wisdom is, "Unless we can make social spending tangible to the majority, especially in the areas of job creation and housing, they will lose confidence in the negotiation process." 14 But the agenda clearly extends far beyond the negotiations to the actual election of a popular government, when the National Party wants to claim that it is already "delivering the goods." As in U mtata, segmentation and restratification that cut across ethnicity are being promoted throughout the entire society. Vastly enhancing the salience of social class permits new nonracial corporate groups to be formed, and status to be increasingly linked to class Star, 30 January 1991. South, 18-24 October 1990; Business Day, 12 October 1990. 14 Business Day, 25 January 1991. 12

13

[179]

Dismantling Apartheid

credentials. It may be an overstatement to refer to the dominant elite's behavior as a plan (implying a conscious, coordinated strategy) when in fact, groups within the dominant elite disagree in major respects. Their behavior is more likely to be an improvised reaction to new realities, changing as exigencies demand. The common thread, however, is the world view that insists upon their retaining disproportionate power and status in a post-apartheid South Africa. The manner in which events in the country as a whole have been unfolding sometimes resembles events in Umtata. Like the dominant group in Umtata, the dominant elite nationally is insisting on retaining exclusive control of the change process. While conceding the possibility of"certain transition arrangements ... to give the leaders of the negotiating parties a voice in the formulation of important policy decisions," De Klerk has tried to dismiss the popular demand for a constituent assembly and an interim government to bring the new South Africa into being. 15 The subordinate groups correctly see the government's alternative, an all-party conference, as an attempt to control the process of change, since "all-party talks would allow minority parties (like the National Party) unfair influence over our future." After all, they note, the National Party is an unrepresentative government that was elected by only 7 percent of the population. It should claim to represent only those voters. 16 But members of the dominant elite know "that they would be reduced to spectators in a one-person-one-vote constituent assembly." They could no longer dominate. Consequently, rejecting the argument that electing delegates to draw up a new constitution is the only fair way 15 The ANC argues that elections are necessary to ensure that the negotiators are truly representative: "Anyone else is an impostor, particularly those leaders of bantustans who say they are leaders when those ruling are a direct product of apartheid. We need to clear the deck and get people to choose who will represent them" (Financial Mail, 19 October 1990). 16 Business Day, 25 January 1991. Bishop Desmond Tutu expressed disappointment about De Klerk's position on this point, saying that the constituent assembly and interim government "are the proposals that the people want." On the other hand, Chief Buthelezi "endorsed Mr. De Klerk's rejection of a constituent assembly, saying negotiating parties must accept [that] their role would be to negotiate a new constitution" (Cape Times, 2 February 1991). Van Zyl Slab bert, a leading advocate of political change, has also rejected the idea of a constituent assembly, noting that where this formula has been successful, there was an external monitor, there had been no de facto government, and the problem of instability had been removed. By contrast, "there is no clear-cut agenda for the transition in South Africa," so a multiparty conference would be preferable (Business Day, 24 January 1991).

[180]

A Culture of Dominance

to ensure that all South Mricans have an equal voice at the table, the government insists that "the negotiation of a new constitution should be the responsibility of the representatives of all political parties which enjoy proven support and are committed to a peaceful and negotiated solution." 17 Similarly, the dominant elite has refused to give way to an interim government, despite its alleged commitment to democracy and representative government. Given the country's history, the subordinate group "cannot trust the apartheid government to supervise non-racial, democratic elections .... We do not trust De Klerk to be a player and a referee at the same time" (ANC, 1991). 18 Some even want the negotiations to be held outside South Mrica, in a neutral venue, supervised by an independent organization such as the United Nations. This is especially necessary, they argue, because the dominant group wields internal power in the form of the police, army, other security forces, the South Mrican Broadcasting Corporation (SABC), and other media. Like other dominant elites, however, South Africa's rulers regard their social, political, and economic preeminence as natural and legitimate. Thus, according to De Klerk, "the idea that the present, legally constituted government should relinquish its powers and simply hand over its responsibilities to some or other temporary regime, cannot be considered in a sovereign, independent state." 19 The world community responded favorably to F. W. De Klerk's announcement in February 1990 that the black political parties were to be officially unbanned, that Nelson Mandela would be released, and that the government wanted to negotiate with leaders of the country's majority. Why did the dominant elite ultimately yield to the pressures for change, opting to control it rather than resist it? It was clearly a change in strategy, not a change ofheart. Consider the situation in 1989 when De Klerk assumed leadership of the ruling National Party. During the decade of the 1980s the white community had become increasingly frustrated with the government. The 1982 split in the National Party, leading to the formation of the Conservative Party (CP), 17 Weekly Mail, 18-24 January 1991. The Labour Party rejected calls for a constituent assembly, opting instead for a "federal" system. 18The Azanian People's Organization (AZAPO) wants the government to hand over power immediately. It rejects the idea of an interim government because "any structure that is set up, which sustains the present power relations-even if it is for a limited period-cannot be accepted by AZAPO" (Business Day, 29 January 1991). 19 Cape Times, 2 February 1991.

[181]

Dismantling Apartheid

was early evidence of right-wing discontent. In its first national test the CP won 26 percent of the white vote, displacing the "liberal" Progressive Federal Party as the official parliamentary opposition. In the 1989 general elections, just after De Klerk's ascendancy, the CP increased its support, capturing slightly less than one-third of all white votes cast. In the early 1980s, white liberal disenchantment found expression in Alex Boraine's and F. Van Zyl Slabbert's resignation as Progressive Federal Party members of parliament and their formation of the Institute for Democratic Alternatives in South Africa (IDASA), which aggressively engaged the African National Congress in serious dialogue about the country's future. Between 1987 and 1989, IDASA sponsored three high-level meetings between the dominant elite (mainly Afrikaners) and the ANC, representing the subordinate elite. Given the imminence of change, hundreds of other prominent dominant group members followed IDASA's lead, defYing the government by rushing to consult with the subordinate group leadership. At first, beginning the process of change management, white academics and leaders of the English-speaking universities made contact. Next, major corporate leaders did the same. Then the floodgates seemed to open. One delegation totaling 120 city councillors, business people, academics, and members of various political organizations met in Lusaka, Zambia, in mid-1989 for the purpose of conferring with ANC leaders. At a different "cultural" meeting, also in Lusaka, forty-five dominant group writers-including such celebrated figures as Andre Brink and Breyten Bretenbach-endorsed the ANC call for selective cultural and academic boycotts of South Africa. White "safaris" to establish links with the subordinate elite in Lusaka increased, despite government opposition. Consequently, well before the government's announcement in 1990, the ANC had already effectively been unbanned, in part by virtue of the dominant group's need to enter into dialogue with the subordinate elite. The De Klerk government had no choice but to accept this reality officially. At the same time, the government was also severely at odds with the business community. The private sector wanted to give some subordinate group members a stake in the existing economic order so that the entire economic system would not risk being scuttled once the political structures changed. In addition, it was impressed by the fact that blacks would soon constitute nearly 90 percent of the population, making them the overwhelming majority of workers as well as the majority of consumers. The long-term interests of business simply [182]

A Culture of Dominance

could not be fulfilled without increasing the participation of these subordinate South Mricans. Hence, the business community pressed the government for speedy relaxation of certain apartheid policies so that it could develop the skilled work force and the vibrant consumer market it needed. 20 The dominant group malaise manifested itself in many ways. In 1986 and 1987, for instance, 23,885 South Mricans emigrated, abandoning the country of their birth to take up residence elsewhere. They were mainly young, white professionals. Indeed, since 1984, almost 2,000 engineers, 890 accountants, and 412 doctors and dentists have gone to live in other countries. 21 The dominant group also voiced its displeasure at the polls. Despite the benefit of incumbency and an unusually faithful constituency, the National Party suffered notable losses in the 1989 elections. One-third of registered white voters, more than a million, simply stayed at home, and the majority of those who did turn out actually voted against the governing National Party. It lost twentynine seats: seventeen to the growing Conservative Party, which campaigned on a platform of retaining apartheid, and twelve to the newly created Democratic Party, which campaigned on a platform of abolishing apartheid. The substantial disaffection among the dominant group, however, was dwarfed by soaring discontent within the subordinate groups. As early as 1986, even sympathetic outsiders observed that "the government is much weaker than it was in 1981. It does not command the authority, respect and legitimacy of major groups in South African society.... The government simply cannot exercise control over parts of South Africa, as in the black townships" (Huntington, 1986: 20-21). In fact, coupled with white displeasure, the new "alternative" culture among blacks seriously threatened to marginalize the ruling elite. Ignoring more and more apartheid structures, "the people" took control of major institutions such as schools, municipal bodies, and the consumer marketplace and used them in their own interests. A noteworthy case in point was the formation of the National Education Crisis Committee (NECC) in 1985, in which black parents and community 20 Some of the principal planners of apartheid foresaw the fact that the economy's dependence on African labor would become apartheid's Achilles' heel. For many years, the Ministry of Bantu Affairs and Development fought against "economic integration" and tried to regulate the private sector's use of African workers (see Pose), 1990). 21 "Info '89," annual information packet of the Human Awareness Program, Johannesburg.

[183]

Dismantling Apartheid

leaders throughout the country set their own priorities and designed their own programs. The theme was "People's education for people's power." As a result, effective control of township schools moved from government to students and parent-teacher committees. By 1991, officials of the Department of Education and Training were referring to many schools as "ungovernable" and threatening to close them. 22 In many other domains as well the dominant elite's control was collapsing. The United Democratic Front (UDF) quickly became the political standardbearer for the alternative movement. Some seven hundred subordinate group civic associations, Christian and Islamic groups, educational committees, trade unions, youth and women's organizations, sporting groups, and cultural associations came together under UDF's banner to demand the restructuring of the society. By 1987 the broadly based national UDF coalition claimed more than 2.5 million members. Desperately trying to suppress the subordinate group revolt, the governing elite reimposed the harsh state of emergency, banned the UDF, and intensified its repressive measures. But the new mood was infectious. "Alternative" and "people's" institutions mushroomed-in health care, in local government, in cultural affairs, in sport, in community development. The new element in this movement was that subordinate groups moved from simply opposing government policies to devising strategies with which to ignore or alter them. For example, in addition to opposing the segregation of public facilities, they adopted active methods to desegregate them. By 1988 the dominant elite could no longer control the mass, nonracial rejection of apartheid which was spreading throughout the country. IntensifYing the momentum, in July 1989, just one month before De Klerk assumed the National Party leadership, the Mass Democratic Movement (MDM) launched a national defiance campaign, 'calling upon people to defY unjust laws.' Resembling the massive defiance campaigns of the 1950s, the revolt included disregarding hospital apartheid, ignoring bus and beach segregation, organizing consumer boycotts, and declaring progressive organizations "unbanned." 23 Because MDM saw the masses as the major vehicle for change, grassroots structures such as churches, factories, schools, and local communities became powerful constituencies. The MDM Conference for a Democratic Weekly Mail, 18-24 January 1991. In the five weeks between 1 August and 6 September 1989, South Africa's election day, 2, 088 persons were arrested because of their involvement in anti-election protests and the MDM"s defiance campaign (Sowetan, 1 November 1989). 22

23

[184]

A Culture of Dominance

Future in December 1989, just weeks before De Klerk's startling announcements, was the "biggest gathering of black leaders since the drafting of the ANC's Freedom Charter at Klipfontein in 1955." 24 The growing marginalization experienced by the dominant elite in the late 1980s was not limited to alienation and insurrection at home. Internationally, South Africa was perhaps the world's most notable pariah. Even its few friends openly condemned its policies. The standing of the South African government suffered further in the world's eyes as a result of Nelson Mandela's well-publicized imprisonment. Everywhere, images of South Africa triggered responses of isolation and sanctions. To make matters even worse for the ruling elite, economic sanctions were biting. Most damaging were financial restrictions that prohibited new foreign investment and prevented South Africa from borrowing internationally, while compelling it to repay its debt. 25 These payments put great pressure on the country's foreign reserves. The financial situation was so critical that South Africa's ability to pay its 1990 debts, which had reached $21 billion, depended upon creditors' allowing some of the debt to roll over. 26 In sum, it became increasingly clear to the governing elite that the physical, legal, economic, and political repression for which South Africa was noted had not secured its dominance. Apartheid was not working. Minority government was not working. Speaking to South Africa's whites, De Klerk candidly admitted that "previous methods ... had proven to be counterproductive" and that "the old ways were being scrapped for the simple reason that they had not worked. " 27 President P. W. Botha's failure to take sufficient corrective action had only accelerated the ruling elite's precipitous slide toward irrelevance. This led to his ouster and De Klerk's rise to power. The new leader needed a bold initiative to restore the dominant elite's credibility and once again place control of the nation's political life firmly in its hands: hence the change in strategy. Being unable to impede change, the dominant elite-rather than continue the slide into insignificance''The MDM: An Assessment," South Africa Foundation Review, September 1989. EEC lifted its ban on new investment in December 1990 (Sunday Times, 20 June 1991). 26 Sanctions also closed many markets to South African uranium, coal, iron and steel, Krugerrands, farm produce, and some manufactured products. Even traders who were able to circumvent the restrictions were forced to share their profit margins with middlemen. Sanctions also prevented subsidized trade and placed some foreign companies in a position of being taxed in two venues (Sunday Times, 20 June 1991). 27 Weekend Argus, 10 February 1990. 24

25 The

[185]

Dismantling Apartheid

opted (as in U mtata) to orchestrate a political transformation that would protect its interests. Cleverly, De Klerk rushed to the forefront of the change movement, even presenting many of the subordinate groups' victories as his own. In early 1991, one political observer called him a master when playing the perception game .... it must be remembered that the dramatic things he has done to date are mainly connected with the dismantling of the formal and legal structures of apartheid. In sharp contrast to the prevailing perception, relatively little has been done about the dismantling of the informal and social structures of apartheid. In even sharper contrast to the prevailing perception, nothing has yet been done about the much-needed restitution to compensate for the harm done by apartheid and about the erection of democratic structures to replace the apartheid structures. 28

The new style and policies of De Klerk are part of the sociopolitical framework within which South Mrica's elite is trying to manipulate the change process. To a great extent, the official unbanning of the ANC and PAC (the Pan Africanist Congress), the release of Nelson Mandela, and the call for negotiations succeeded in restoring the dominant elite's centrality in the national political debate. 29 Overnight, it was back at the helm of South Africa's politics. Among whites, the appeals for peace and reconstruction from the liberal Democratic Party were largely neutralized by the government's commitment to end apartheid and negotiate with the ANC. By insisting on a South Africa in which "no group dominates the other" and a settlement that "safeguards white interests," De Klerk, in an extremely personable manner, simultaneously allayed some of the fears that the Conservative Party had been exploiting. Most dominant group members stopped seeing the government as part of the problem and came to regard it as the key to a solution. The subordinate group organizations were thrown off balance by De Klerk's tactics. Just as the popular rebellion at long last seemed to be achieving its aims, it was sent conciliatory signals. Alternative, democratic, nonracial, nonviolent institutions of all kinds were forced to rethink. The dominant group appeals for cooperation, negotiation, and 28

Cape Times, 5 February 1991.

29 This

radical policy change, incidentally, recalls the 1960s' dramatic shift to "separate development" when the Verwoerd regime was tottering in the wake of mass uprisings, the 1960 police shooting of 69 unarmed protesters at Sharpeville, and the flight of international capital.

[186]

A Culture of Dominance

conciliation were, by and large, reciprocated. In a major turnaround, therefore, even most anti-apartheid activists once again saw the ruling elite as a major player in the change process. In addition to its domestic triumphs, South Africa's dominant elite reestablished international legitimacy for its leadership. Western leaders quickly reanointed them. Washington and London expressed positive responses to developments in South Mrica. Though it would have been inconceivable just a few months earlier, during visits to Spain, Portugal, Greece, Switzerland, Germany, France, and Britain, President De Klerk and Foreign Minister Botha were lavishly feted by European heads of state. Steps were even taken to lift economic sanctions.30 In sum, South Africa's dominant elite was forced by increasing marginalization to alter its strategy. De Klerk has succeeded in recapturing some control over events by rushing to lead the country's transformation. From this position he is well placed to pursue the elite's sectoral interests. The parallels between this transformation and the transition that occurred in Umtata more than a decade ago suggest patterns in the change process. In Umtata, for instance, there was a lead-in to change 30 With these dramatic acts De Klerk, like Ian Smith, succeeded in recapturing the political initiative for his minority government. The National Party has shifted from a policy oflaw and order to a policy of negotiation, as Ian Smith eventually did. But unlike the military in Southern Rhodesia, the hard-line "securocrats" in the South African establishment have not been defeated on the battlefield. It is noteworthy that the existence of the Civil Cooperation Bureau (CCB), a clandestine unit of two hundred highly paid operatives within the South African Defense Force, has only recently been (accidentally) revealed. A commission of inquiry has already received conclusive evidence linking the CCB to bombings of anti-apartheid organizations, numerous political assassinations, and other hit-squad activities at home and overseas. Because of its shady operations, the millions in public funds allocated to the CCB, as well as its substantial cache of sophisticated weapons, were deposited where high officials would not be implicated. Now, De Klerk and his generals seem unable to disband the CCB or otherwise bring it back under their control. Large numbers of South African whites are still prepared to wage a third Boer War for liberation, rather than negotiate with Africans. The 1990 June by-election in U mlazi, a blue-collar, English-speaking constituency, shocked the government as the Conservative Party support there more than doubled, nearly producing an upset victory over the National Party. Although the CP is expanding as a political movement, the more serious threat comes from the ultra-right, such as the Afrikaner-Weerstandsbeweging (AWB), which thinks in terms of an armed response. The Boerekommandos, recruiting heavily from the military and from the nearly 2,000 policemen who have resigned since February 1991, are frequently shown by the media in their military training camps. They, too, have access to sophisticated weaponry.

[187]

Dismantling Apartheid

during which segregation in public places slowly disappeared. By the time the apartheid laws were removed from the statute books, they had not been operative for some time. The dominant elite has allowed a similar process to occur throughout South Africa. Enforcement of most petty apartheid laws was relaxed during the 1980s, and even some violations of major laws, such as the Group Areas Act, have often been deliberately ignored. There has even been considerable success in changing public norms. Increasingly, on the emotive subject of Group Areas, white residents' associations, for example, began to say, "Our official stand is 'live and let live' and if there are complaints about neighbors-whatever their colour-residents should approach the police." Rental agents supported the calls of politicians, business people, church leaders, and citizens' groups for an end to Group Areas. 31 The new norms are sometimes finding their way into policies. The Cape Town Council plans to construct a middle- to high-income, racially mixed residential area on a prime beachfront site. The Cape Times supports the venture, noting that declaring it "whites only" would be seen, "and justifiably so, as another example of whites hogging the best parts of the Cape to themselves . . . . Our view is, of course, that the Group Areas Act should immediately be scrapped in its entirety, and that people should be allowed to live anywhere they can afford." 32 While there have been many people, especially mixed couples, who violated the racial prohibitions of the Group Areas Act and lived in 31 Star, 12 March 1988; Argus, 21 March 1988. Transvaal NP leaders have stated that separate areas were "not always practical" (Star, 25 March 1988). Typically, one agent commented: "Speaking in a personal capacity, I am strongly in favour oflocal choice in the matter. If people in an area don't mind members of all races living there, so be it. The world hasn't come to an end because black people have been living in white blocks ... the State is going to have to face this issue sooner or later." With vacant flats in white areas and a housing shortage among blacks, "black people should be allowed to use unoccupied units in the white community. It would be good for the economy and save on capital costs." 32 Cape Times, 19 March 1988. Among other signs of changing attitudes was the 1987 marriage of Hendrik Koornhof and Raehana Bobert. Koornhof comes from a well-to-do, politically active Afrikaans family; his uncle, Piet Koornhof, was South Africa's ambassador to Washington. Bobert is from a working-class Malay family, with an Indian father and a Colored mother. Although the Mixed Marriages Act and the Immorality Act, which formerly forbade such marriages, had been repealed, "the wedding raised some eyebrows among Afrikaners of the ruling National Party." The Koornhof family was divided in its reaction, the ambassador's wife even offering to have Raebena reclassified as white "in order to save the family political embarrassment" (Sunday Tribune, 21 June 1987).

[188]

A Culture of Dominance

areas designated for other racial groups, one property developer is building a housing complex "where anyone is welcome." Midway between Johannesburg and Pretoria, Countryview is publicly promoted as "testimony to social harmony, communal spirit .... A place where the future has arrived." The promotional literature pictures interracial couples chatting across the back fence. One hundred fifty families had bought in the development by January 1991 and are living in "peace and harmony." This idyllic community is only for the well-to-do, however. Building sites are costly, and the prices of new homes "read like telephone numbers."33 Unlike whites in Umtata, though-where separate development was merely a variant of apartheid-as it becomes clear nationally that apartheid is finished, dominant group members are reaching out more and more frequently to establish relations with their subordinate group compatriots. One of the earliest and most publicized actions was that of Rev. Nico Smith and his family, who took up residence in the African township ofMamelodi in 1988. Newspapers reported frequently on his experiences and interactions in the neighborhood-all of which were positive and encouraging (Democracy in Action, monthly newsletter of the Institute for a Democratic Alternative for South Africa, May 1988). Some dominant group initiatives, like the IDASA-sponsored conference Women and Democracy in March 1989, were consciously intended to promote social change. To this gathering, eighty women were invited on the basis of the "influential roles they play in their sphere of work, community or organization, or because of their specific experience of the disruption and sorrow caused by conditions in our country today." The preparations included months of consultation and intensive training of the facilitators. 34 In September 1989, black and white women came together to reaffirm the spirit of the historic 1956 Pretoria march attended by 20,000 women of all races. Organized by Helen Joseph, the first person to be placed under house arrest in South Mrica, the 1956 protest "was against a whole spectrum of unjust laws. The women protested against ghetto housing and forced removals. They protested against passes, against Bantu education, black poverty and about racial segregation in general. " 35 Other initiatives were simply intended to promote good neighborliStar, 26 January 1991. Democracy in Action (monthly newsletter of IDASA), March 1989. 35 Democracy in Action, September 1989.

33

34

[189]

Dismantling Apartheid

ness. In February 1989 forty whites from Durban were taken on educational trips to Mrican townships, a first for the majority of them. In an unprecedented white march into an Mrican township in November 1989, a group of 1,000 whites, including children and senior citizens, marched through New Brighton to convey a message of"peace, goodwill, and hope" to township residents, after which representatives of both groups exchanged messages in the community hall. The whites were greeted by Africans 100,000 strong. In 1990 the orientation program for new students at the University of Natal included a bus trip through local African townships. 36 Even before the government officially accepted the need to repeal the Separate Amenities and Group Areas acts, many dominant group members were reaching out to find ways to desegregate their towns. As a compromise measure, the government had promoted the idea of officially designated "free settlement areas" where apartheid laws could be legally ignored. 37 There was great debate within the dominant group on this issue. Some supported free settlement areas as a first step toward removing the Group Areas Act; others opposed them because the concept acknowledged the legitimacy of segregation outside these areas. The more progressive white groups actually advocated an "open cities" policy. In Cape Town, for instance, the city council-which was controlled by the Democratic Party-passed a resolution in 1989 demanding that "Cape Town be restored as an open city with a common voters' roll, where people are free to live where they can afford, vote for whom they want and seek election to a city council free from racial discrimination." In addition to the ethical considerations, much of the political motivation for open cities was the need to retain power. The demographic realities were impressing themselves upon everyone. Because blacks are in the majority everywhere, "almost every major city in South Mrica is becoming an open city, and there is nothing the government can do to stop it." 38 Therefore, desegregating municipal 36 Evening Post, 25 November 1989; Democracy in Action, March 1990. Even in the conservative area of the Transvaal, after white vigilantes attacked a group of black Sunday School children, some dominant group members founded Forum Goodwill. Its first activity was a picnic for African children, after which Operation Awareness was launched in both the white and African communities. 37 There have always been such exemptions to some laws. In the most common instance, hotels and restaurants could apply for "international" status so as not to have to segregate. 38 Democracy in Action, May 1989, quoting the Cape Town resolution and a statement by the Rev. Beyers Naude.

[190]

A Culture of Dominance

life before being compelled to do so could prevent the dominant group from being thrown out altogether when there is majority government. Such a move also permits less overt mechanisms of dominant group power and control to be instituted. So just as there was a lead-in to change in Umtata, during which apartheid laws were ignored before being repealed, in communities throughout South Africa changes in dominant-subordinate group relations have been ahead oflegal changes. In fact, in the national change the dominant group is taking greater initiatives. The resulting dialogue is leading to the establishment of nonracial local governments, representing mergers of white town councils and Mrican township authorities. A case in point is the Greater Soweto Accord of1990, which brings Soweto and Johannesburg under one governing authority: the Central Witwatersrand Metropolitan Chamber, with Mricans exercising considerably more power than before. Meanwhile some of the myths and norms of apartheid are being publicly jettisoned, setting the stage for further changes in the social structure. Noteworthy in this connection is the decision that the Dutch Reformed Church had erred in its interpretation of the Bible, that apartheid is not scripturally based (Van der Merwe and Meyers, 1987: 85). In effect, this admission dismisses the myth of the Covenant, which portrayed Afrikaners as chosen people with a God-given mission to rule South Africa. Under the weight of overwhelming evidence, other myths have been similarly discredited. It is no longer tenable, for instance, to argue that whites found vacant land when they arrived in the Cape, or that there are ten separate black nations, or that cultures are unassimilable. As these myths are allowed to erode, so too does the ideological foundation of apartheid. More and more, De Klerk is personally promoting norms that contrast sharply with the apartheid platform on which his party came into power in 1948. In a full-page newspaper advertisement in 1991, he declared, "Politicians can work out a new South Africa but they can't make it work-only you can do that .... now is the time to think about the things that unite us .... now is the time to speak out loud and clear about these dreams that unite us-and, more importantly, to listen to the dreams of others." 39 In this new normative atmosphere, the dominant elite is systematically eliminating the main apartheid laws, manag3 9 Weekly Mail, 8-14 February 1991. The new values are not accepted universally, however. A Conservative Party town councillor was "compelled" to evict from his home a six-year-old African boy to whom he had been guardian for four years because of a public backlash (Star, 31 January 1991).

[191]

Dismantling Apartheid

ing the change process with a view to protecting its superordinate position. Early in the process the Immorality and Mixed Marriages acts were repealed. In 1990 the Separate Amenities Act was voided. Provisions were even made for some school desegregation. By 1991 the Group Areas Acts, the Land Acts, and the Population Registration Acts had been repealed. Later I will show how elimination of apartheid laws can further the sectoral interests of the dominant elite. The focus here, though, is on the elite's management of the change process. In U mtata, the prelude to political change included the dominant elite's aggressive establishment of ties with the subordinate elite. The multiracial Trusted Ten was the outcome. Similar attempts at fusing dominant and subordinate elites have been occurring for some time throughout South Africa. As early as 1988, a few white political leaders were publicly calling for political ties across racial lines. New Republic Party leader Bill Sutton, emphasizing white self-interest, observed that whites would have to include blacks in Parliament if they wished to remain part of the decision-making process, "because in 20 years time there [will] be 50 million blacks in South Mrica and only 7 million whites . . . . In any hard-headed appreciation of South Africa, it is a black country with white overtones .... The future of whites will be decided in black politics." The whites' best hope for a political future, he said, was to "remain part of the processes of Parliament in which the black majority was represented." Sutton actually proposed that the number of white MPs be cut from 178 to 100, Coloured MPs from 85 to 50, Indian MPs from 45 to 25 "to make room for the inclusion of black representatives without undue cost to the taxpayers." 40 Most white politicians did not go as far as Sutton, but there have been continuous attempts by segments of the dominant elite to negotiate with the subordinate elite. In one interesting "fusion" attempt, the Progressive Federal Party sought alliances with MPs from the Colored and Indian houses of Parliament. The Prohibition oflmproper Political Interference Act having been repealed, and multiracial political parties being able to exist legally, in 1988, three Progressive Reform Party MPs (Indian) joined the PFP (before it was subsumed into the Democratic Party) in a first step toward the "de-ethnicising" of political parties. 41 Business Day, 22 March 1988. Cape Times, 21 March 1988. All the political parties in the House of Representatives (Colored) and House of Delegates (Indian) are by ideology nonracial. In practice, 40 41

[192]

A Culture of Dominance

As early as 1987, the government claimed to have had "a significant shift in ... thinking about negotiations with black leaders and organizations" and became "determined to initiate discussions with a far wider range of black people and organizations than ever before, including organizations strongly opposed to government policies."42 The deputy minister of constitutional planning, Stoffel van der Merwe, was handpicked by P. W. Botha to spearhead an "all-out effort to bring relevant black leaders to the negotiating table." Even radicals could be included, according to van der Merwe. 43 In 1988 the government claimed a "significant breakthrough in its closed-door talks with black leaders on a new constitutional deal." 44 In truth, however, it appears to have had little success in getting genuine Mrican leaders to participate in its National Forum scheme. Even Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi refused to join. 45 The point here, though, is that many in the dominant elite, even in the government, have long been scrambling to create a however, they have been as ethnically based as the white parties. These efforts therefore are the first attempt to fuse anti-apartheid parties within the parliamentary system. 42 Business Day, 26 June 1987, p. l. 43 Star, 26 June 1987. Newspaper accounts said the initiative was likely to include holding informal exploratory talks about talks with people in detention or prison; talking very cautiously to certain leaders about the conditions for releasing Mandela and other long-term political prisoners before beginning more substantive constitutional talks; possibly even approaching Mandela himself about talks on talks (though he remained in prison because he refused to comply with a government demand that he agree to abandon violence); and canvassing homeland leaders and black urban representatives about mechanisms for electing blacks to talk to the government within the statutory framework of a National Council. 44 Sunday Tribune, 27 March 1988. "A series of events, strategies and structures paved the way for the establishment of new constitutional bodies such as the multiracial Regional Services Councils, the multiracial Provincial Executives and most recently a Joint Executive Authority for KwaZulu and Natal. These structures are not only the result of negotiations, but are forums where black and white have the opportunity to negotiate, bargain and compromise about issues at local and regional level." The government still did not have a sufficient number of black leaders amenable to the idea of a National Council to "confront the vital task of accommodating blacks in the decisionmaking process"; nevertheless, "negotiations with individual leaders in all communities ... take place on a continual basis." 45 The government tried to create a National Forum to devise a new constitution for South Africa but did not succeed in attracting credible Africans. Those leaders who could claim to be authentic spokespersons were either in prison or refused to participate. ChiefButhelezi consistently stated that such talks depended on "the unshackling of black democracy and the freeing of Dr. Nelson Mandela, Mr. Zeph Mothopeng and other political prisoners" ("Reaction to the State President's Latest Constitutional Proposals," Ulundi, 21 June 1988).

[193]

Dismantling Apartheid

subordinate elite with whom it could join and control. Even for the government, the debate has not been whether to involve the subordinate group in the political system; it has been how to involve the subordinate group without relinquishing dominant group privileges. The most dramatic instances of dominant elite efforts to fuse with the subordinate elite were the enormous number of visits to the banned ANC by leading whites. As early as 1985, the Anglo-American Corporation chairman, Gavin Reily, led a delegation of businessmen to Zambia to confer with the ANC. In the first six months of 1989 more than 450 South Mricans made eleven "official visits" and held sixty-five "significant meetings" with the ANC in Lusaka. Various groups debated a South Mrican Bill of Rights, the role of whites in a future South Africa, and the Freedom Charter. The later delegations included both influential individuals and delegates from specific organizations and constituencies. 46 The Democratic Party publicly advocated talks with the banned ANC: "If you want peace, you must talk to your enemies. You do not make peace with your friends. You must talk to the ANC, not because it is a pleasure, but because the political issues must be solved." 47 So persistent were these contacts that government spokesmen complained, "It is now fashionable to be able to say you had been to Lusaka to meet the ANC, like driving a Mercedes or having a swimming pool." 48 It is ironic in this context that the final break between P. W. Botha-lifelong National Party activist, prime minister, and state president-and the party he had served all his life came as a result of a proposed meeting between F. W. De Klerk, and President Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia. In September 1990, after De Klerk announced the new policy of negotiation, the attempt to link politically with the subordinate group took on a significant new dimension: the National Party actually approved measures that would allow people of color to join its ranks. Realizing that the last all-white election has already been held, NP politicians know their only hope of retaining power is to treat the subordinate groups as constituents. In the debates about opening the party to people of color, the pragmatists argued, "Let's be quite clear about this. A party which depends on the support of only 5% to 10% of Star, 22 and 26 June 1989; Business Day, 4 July 1989. Citizen, 24 July 1989. 48 Ibid.; Argus, 30 June 1989.

46 47

[194]

A Culture of Dominance

the population in a country with 30 million people cannot play a decisive role." 49 Expressing the new mass-oriented political objectives, De Klerk is now claiming that the National Party has "the potential to attract wide support across colour lines" and, as a result, will have a "hand on the tiller of government in South Africa for a very long time." 50 Some opinion polls supported this assessment, indicating that as many as 22 percent of black South Mricans would be prepared to vote for the National Party. 51 Explaining ways the dominant elite can continue to govern (reminiscent of the strategy used in U mtata), De Klerk added, "I also believe we must bring together those who share the same principles"; forming a "moderate alliance" would create a new multiracial group with an even chance of winning an election. This "new vision" is so powerful that the government has found the confidence to modify its insistence that minority rights be explicitly guaranteed in the constitution. Why place constitutional limits on its power base? Why concede majority rule? According to the National Party, the best way for whites to "guarantee a say in the future South Mrica [is] through participation in a moderate multiracial alliance ... part of a bigger whole, based on political principles."52 Rejecting the defensive, laager approach, the dominant group would seek protection in "a co-operative outreaching to other groups." They have in mind a kind of Trusted Ten on the national level, which they could dominate. Regarding Mrican partners, De Klerk specified, "It's quite possible that the Inkatha Freedom Party [IFP] and the National Party can move into an alliance, but I don't think they will be alone." In addition to Mangosuthu Buthelezi, the dominant elite is courting pro-government political parties, including Ximoko Xa Rixaka's Ximoko Progressive Party (Gazankulu); Nelson Ramodike's United People's Party of South Mrica (Lebowa); Gabriel Ramushwana's Maanda Nga-u-Phfana (Venda); and similar parties to be formed in KwaNdebele and QwaQwa. This alliance strategy, if successful, would "overpopulate the talks and enEastern Province Herald, 9 October 1990 . Times, 8 May 1991. Since that time, five members of the (Colored) Labour Party have decided to join the National Party (The Star, 16 May 1991). 51 Star, 14 October 1990. A May 1991 street survey in the Johannesburg area, however, indicated that only 2 percent of Mricans would vote for the National Party, compared to 39 percent for the ANC, 12 percent for PAC, 5 percent for AZAPO and 4 percent for Inkatha (Cape Times, 16 May 1991). 52 Star, 12 October 1990. 49

.5o Cape

[195]

Dismantling Apartheid

sure division within black ranks." 53 Mrican parties are not the only targets of this strategy. In 1991, "in an astonishing coup," thirty-five former Labour Party MPs switched allegiance to the National Party, making it the opposition in the (Colored) House of Representatives. The presence of such groups during constitutional negotiations "would ensure 'pliable' black voices that would temper any militancy from the ANC .... in the event the talks deadlock between the ANC and De Klerk, and the ANC was to walk out, there would remain at the table a crowd of these black organisations that would continue to talk and eventually reach some agreement with the Government in the name of the black people."54 Research claims to show that De Klerk "enjoys significant support in all population groups, which would make him an excellent candidate forthe presidency in a system similar to Nigerian federalism, generally regarded as one of the best systems for a country consisting of a number of minorities." Confirming this, a 1990 newspaper poll indicated that though 51 percent of"elite" black men preferred Nelson Mandela, 86 percent believed F. W. de Klerk was doing a good job. Suggesting that the dominant elite has accurately assessed its future constituency and is correct in abandoning its ethnic orientation, virtually no dominant group white men supported Mandela, and only 68 percent supported De Klerk. 55 In moves that replicated the Umtata strategy of bringing African advisers into political structures (such as the Town Council) still under dominant group control, the government in mid-1990, proposed the formation of a National Council "to enable black leaders to serve in an advisory capacity at Parliamentary level." That option was rejected by the subordinate elite. The need to bring subordinate elite into institutions still controlled by the dominant group was sufficiently strong, however, that the government has continued to seek some "interim arrangement" of"informal channels" and "merely advisory" structures that would allow subordinate group organizations to "influence decisions in Parliament." Later, President De Klerk even suggested the formation of a cabinet of "competent South Mricans from all parties." The idea that an Mrican would serve in a cabinet formed by the National Party government was rejected by the ANC, but the social

Cape Times, 8 May 1991; Sowetan, 25 October 1990. Post, 30 May 1991; Sunday Tribune, 26 May 1991; Sowetan, 25 October 1990. 55 Democracy in Action, March, 1990; Cape Times, 1 October 1990. 53

54 Evening

[196]

A Culture of Dominance

control imperative to make such appointments is instructive. 56 In order to manage the change process, the dominant elite must lure the subordinate groups into structures it can manipulate and control. As the frantic search for links with subordinate group leaders documents, long-established political norms are being altered very quickly in South Africa as the established elite struggles to find a way of ensuring its continued dominance. For instance, there has always been a strong central government in South Mrica and "a well-developed welfare state for Whites and especially for Afrikaners." Particularly after the National Party took office in 1948, "the bureaucracy was systematically enlarged and additional parastatals were developed to create lucrative opportunities mainly for Afrikaners, and a variety of welfare (or redistributional) programmes were launched to uplift the mainly Afrikaans-speaking poor-Whites" (Terreblanche, 1989: 16, 15). The National Party has not tried to disguise its use of state institutions to provide Afrikaners with employment and the skills to enter the commercial and industrial world (Welsh, 1974: 261). By the 1970s, Mrikaans speakers dominated the government and other key institutions, including the permanent army, which was 85 percent Afrikaansspeaking (Enloe, 1980: 56). By the 1980s the South African government employed in excess of one million people, not including those in the commercial/industrial public sector such as the Post Office, the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC), the South African Transportation Service (SATS), and parastatals such as the South Mrican Iron and Steel Corporation (ISCOR), the Electricity and Supply Commission (ESCOM), and the Armaments Corporation of South Africa (ARMSCOR). Moreover, there is no competition for defense contracts, because the manufacture of arms is concentrated in a state monopoly. A national banana marketing board has been used to drive Indian farmers out of that business, and citrus fruit is handled by another bureaucracy. The wine growers in the Cape province benefit from membership in a tightly organized, statesponsored cooperative. So whereas the whites, particularly Afrikaners, have been protected for more than four decades by an elaborate socialist economic system operated by a huge civil service, the blacks have been left to fend for themselves under the strictest of capitalist rules." [Ungar, 1990: 25]

In this manner, large numbers of dominant group members have used the state apparatus to acquire job security or to propel themselves into the middle class. 56

Business Day, 29 August 1990; Star, 29 August 1990; Cape Times, 6 May 1991. [197]

Dismantling Apartheid

Now that political change is inevitable, however, the dominant elite is aggressively trying to recast the political norms. 57 Consociation and federalism, with a weak central government, are suddenly popular political prescriptions, being described as plural democracy. In particular, a "canton" system of "autonomous, relatively small and, if required, culturally homogeneous local authorities" is regarded as promising ("Post-Apartheid South Africa, 1986). One very revealing argument claims, "A federalist approach implies that in practice each geographical level of government should in the main have its own source of revenue and be independent of income transfers from other authorities." 58 This is a device, akin to the "ward" option in Umtata, to avoid majority rule. It is simultaneously a device to perpetuate dominant group interests. A federal system of the kind many in the elite are now trying to justify, with a weak central government, would not be able to muster the authority or the resources to engage in the socioeconomic uplift of disadvantaged South Africans. The state would not be a force in ensuring that national resources were fairly distributed. Furthermore, competition and conflict among the units would very likely undermine the sense of national unity and national purpose so essential to South Africa's future success. Even the most liberal white political party, the Democratic Party, has based its platform on these revised political norms: "The DP does not stand for one-man, one-vote, in a unitary system. It envisages a federal system based on a universal adult franchise. It proposes federal states or provinces that will conduct their affairs in whichever way they choose, provided this does not conflict with the constitution or Bill of Rights. The central government should deal only with matters of national concern, such as foreign affairs and national finance." Instead of the existing winner-take-all system, "each party would be represented at all levels of government in proportion to its support, including the Cabinet, so they would be obliged to negotiate with each other before laws were passed. This would insure a government that took into 5 7 As noted in the chapter "Portraits of Dominance," Anna and others conceptualized and compartmentalized various levels of social action in order to cope with inconsistencies and contradictions; this was necessary to maintain the "logic" of apartheid. Now, dominant elites are composing new definitions, new ways of conceptualizing and compartmentalizing social action-constructing a new "logic" for the new South Mrica. These redefinitions reflect their dominant interests and priorities. 58 van Zyl, 1986: v.

[198]

A Culture of Dominance

account the opinions of all South Africans." 59 As for a new parliamentary structure, in late 1990 the President's Council proposed a bicameral system in which one chamber would be elected on a countrywide proportional basis (rather than absolute majority) and the other would comprise ethnic or interest groups. The second chamber would have a veto right over the chamber elected by popular vote. 60 The government has launched an "enormous propaganda onslaught," developing "a so-called reform rhetoric to create the impression that it was concerned about the ethical qualities of a political system such as freedom, equality, participation, human rights, democracy, etc." (Terreblanche, 1989: 7). 61 Under this guise, though, it is implanting ideas aimed at preserving the old patterns of dominance. One such idea was the necessity for the future South Africa to protect group rights as well as individual rights. The minister of education explained that the government was "no longer talking about races but about cultural groups." At this early stage, the dominant elite was trying to bargain for political participation on a group basis: "There would be a counting of groups and not ofheads."62 The justifications were elaborate. In a document calling for freedom and equal rights for all South Africans, the powerful Broederbond too advocated group rights. 63 Others agreed. The South African Federated Chamber of Industries, in a document titled "Post-Apartheid South Africa," described the protection of group rights as "one of the truly key issues to be resolved" (1986: i). This document maintains that there is an essential difference between race and ethnicity. The former should be rejected as a principle of political organization in South Africa, but the latter must be accepted as a political reality. The campaign to establish group rights as a democratic norm was so successful among whites that the Democratic Party pledged to "protect our nation's various cultures, religions and languages and . . . prevent majority domination. " 64 Additionally, in recent years, considerable effort has been devoted to showing that constitutional safeguards for minority groups are consis22 July 1989; Citizen, 24 July 1989. Business Day, 25 October 1990. 61 The new terminology included such phrases as "power sharing," "ending apartheid," "broadening democracy," "self-determination," "minority rights," "negotiation and compromise." 62Argus, 30 June 1989; Citizen, 24 July 1989. 63 Business Day, 30 June 1989. 64 Business Day, 24 July 1989. 59 Argus, 60

[199]

Dismantling Apartheid

tent with democracy. Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, Alexis de Tocqueville are among the great men alleged to have recognized that unchecked majoritarianism as an instrument of government is a formula for mischief and minority oppression. It is asserted, further, that the 1975 Helsinki Accords and the new constitutions in Eastern Europe demonstrate that the international tide of constitutionalism supports explicit protection of minority rights. 65 The fact that the group rights issue was subsequently abandoned by the dominant elite in favor of a multiracial approach, however, is further evidence that dominance, rather than race, was its ultimate concern. 66 The dominant elite has been trying to redefine some of the other principal tenets of democracy. A normative case for avoiding a one person, one vote political system maintains that great efforts must be expended to avoid a "tyranny of the majority" and the "brutal effects of simple majority systems." Ignoring previous practice in South Africa and the Western tradition with which it wants to affiliate, reputable individuals became committed to "the proposition that divided societies must, at all costs, avoid 'winner-take-all' outcomes."67 Majority rule is taking a back seat to the interests of continued dominance over subordinate groups. There are two crucial points here. The first is that these new political norms for the dominant group in South Mrica are being promoted primarily because they would serve its sectoral interests, helping to create conditions that would favor continued dominance by the present elite in the new South Mrica. The second point is that although apartheid norms have changed-indeed, many appear to have been literally reversed-the social objectives have not. The norms are still norms favoring white dominance, still intended to protect and promote dominant group interests. Change management by the dominant elite also means trying to dictate the parameters and scope of the negotiation process. Hence, the government "is bent on showing everybody that the game will be played according to its rules." It tries to punish organizations, such as the PAC, which refuse to "subscribe to the principles of peaceful solutions and developments in South Africa." 68 Similarly, it attacks the 65 "Negotiating Constitutional Liberty," South African Foundation Review, July, 1990. 66 Further building emotional opposition to the idea of majority rule, reference is almost always made to "black majority rule," as though this were less democratic. 67 City Press, 9 July 1989. 68 The Sowetan, 20 November 1990; Business Day, 20 November 1990.

[200]

A Culture of Dominance

ANC methods of broadening its political base, asserting that, "mass action is legitimated by a refusal to negotiate, but when it is used simply to gain an advantage in negotiations, or to coerce political rivals by fear to do what they would not voluntarily do, it exceeds the limits oflegitimacy." The government tries to persuade others that mass mobilization, boycotts, and intimidation call into question ANC's stated commitment to peace. 69 Fearing that the ANC will have achieved control over most black areas before there is a political settlement, the government-sponsored Citizen newspaper complains that while the government abides strictly by the letter and spirit of the Groote Schuur and Pretoria Minutes, "the African National Congress talks peace while it wages a relentless campaign to collapse the Black local authority system." Further, it declares, "it is no use pretending that the ANC or its affiliates are using only acceptable democratic methods to achieve their aims. Mass protests, marches, stayaways and boycotts are organized to disrupt as well as to demonstrate the ANC's strength so that Blacks are convinced of the ANC's invincibility."70 Justifying possible action against subordinate group rivals, the government argues that "no government can allow mass action which is launched with the expressly declared aim of breaking down existing legal and constitutional structures of government or of reducing existing structures to ungovernability." Even De Klerk has publicly admonished blacks that irresponsible groups "want to keep a struggle alive, while there is no need for a struggle anymore .... go forth and spread the message that the clenched fists have to open to become praying hands and working hands .... There are still many people and organisations who want to make the country ungovernable. They must not succeed." 71 Meanwhile, responding to the changed conditions, the dominant elite was revising its strategy for dominance by earnestly abolishing grand apartheid. In fact, it seems remarkably easy for broad change to 69 7

Star, 18 and 20 November 1990.

°Citizen, 17 November and 3 December 1990. The media are always prime vehicles

for disseminating the dominant elite's ideology, values, norms, and world view. Media monopoly control in South Africa has become so blatant, though, that Archbishop Tutu attacked the press as racist. He correctly argued that references to black-on-black violence and the tags "tribal" and "ethnic" did not accurately describe the cause of the destruction that was sweeping the country. "What about the violence of forced removals, children that have starved in a country that is a net exporter of food, detentions without trial and a 'twak' [an expression of disgust] education system?" (Cape Times, 16 May 1991). 71 Citizen, 6 December 1990; Evening Post, 6 May 1991. [201]

Dismantling Apartheid

occur in social policy and even social norms when the governing elite's interests are at stake. What has not changed, of course, is the elite's pursuit of its particularistic interests, even in the manner in which apartheid is dismantled. The Pass Laws are an excellent example. The 1980s reversal of the longstanding policy of preventing Africans from settling permanently in white urban areas marked a major departure from grand apartheid. The decision to allow "orderly urbanization" of Africans, however, must be understood in the light of demographic trends. The governmentfunded Human Sciences Research Council projected that had the old apartheid policies been retained, the black population in South Africa would have reached an astounding 846 million by the year 2100. But because of the correlation between urban population and low fertility, scrapping the so-called influx control laws radically reduces this projection to 132 million. Furthermore, the researchers say, if influx control goes and industrialization is promoted, the black population by 2100 will only be 73 million. 72 Thus, the policy of allowing permanent African residents in the urban areas and of increasing economic opportunities for them is not simply a change of heart. Given the demographic realities, it is in fact essential to the long-term objectives of the dominant group. Similarly, the government has approved new models for white schools that open the way for multiracial schooling. 73 But the desegregation model requires that 80 percent of the white parents have to vote in a referendum on opening their school, and 72 percent must vote in favor; then the governm~nt must approve the opening, and at least 50 percent of the pupils must remain white. Forty-four Transvaal schools had applied for open status as of November 1990. By January 1991, 112 of the 720 schools in the Cape Province had voted on opening, 107 in favor. But it is evident that while the dominant elite gains politically by abolishing mandatory school segregation, preferential access to education for white children is still well protected. Moreover, even those schools that are now open are still not accessible to most people of color; in keeping with restratification, only the elite of color have the opportunity to study there. 74 Daily Dispatch, 8 October 1986. Derrwcracy in Action, March 1990. In 1990, 159,840 classrooms were needed for black pupils. By the year 2000, there will be 471,000 white and 5.5 million black children between the ages of six and eleven. 74Argus, 21 January 1991. 72 73

[202]

A Culture of Dominance

There are other examples. Anticipating changes in its control of the Parliament and in light of the dearth of senior subordinate group lawyers, the ruling group has announced that in future it wants a Supreme Court to be the ultimate decision-making authority on constitutional issues rather than Parliament, as is now the case. 75 While this is an eminently sensible arrangement and will encounter little opposition, it is nevertheless self-serving on the part of the dominant elite. They preferred Parliament to be the ultimate arbiter when they controlled the Parliament. Now that they expect to control a Supreme Court, they want a Supreme Court to be the ultimate arbiter. More recently, the government repealed the infamous Land Acts (which reserved 87 percent of the land for exclusive ownership and occupation by whites) in order to base land ownership on free market and contractual rights. In the wake of hundreds of years of preferential treatment for the dominant group, repealing the Land Acts in this manner simply assures its continued monopoly of land, because only a few subordinate group members can afford land in an open market. Indeed, even though the government may be prepared to provide land for small-scale African farmers, property rights and titles are to be strictly protected, so simply repealing existing laws could mean that the dominant group acquires even more land. 76 Furthermore, the sanctity of private property is now promoted by the dominant group, despite the fact that for over seventy-five years the Land Act, the Native Land Act, the Group Areas Act, and other legislation were used to expropriate African land and give it to dominant group members. The sanctity of private property is clearly a selective virtue. Rev. Allan Hendrickse, leader of the Labour Party, quipped, "It's a case of apartheid is dead, long live apartheid." 77 In this case, the subordinate groups may block the elite's wishes, but this initiative illustrates how removing apartheid can be orchestrated in such a way that dominant group privilege is still effectively entrenched. The same is true for the repeal of the Group Areas Act in June 1991. This act reserved the lucrative central business districts for dominant group businessmen. Subordinate group entrepreneurs were relegated 75 Eastern Province Herald, 10 October 1990. 76The South African Development Bank has identified nearly eight million hectares of arable land on which 500,000 small farmers could be settled (Sunday Times, 18 November 1990), and the government has said it might consider land restitution for as many as 3.5 million "victims of apartheid" (Daily Dispatch, 8 May 1991). 77 New Nation, 30 May 1991.

[203]

Dismantling Apartheid

to the informal sector, specializing in hawking and operating shebeens and spaza (informal, unlicensed) shops in the townships. 78 Given this history, simply repealing the Group Areas Act may actually prove a boon to dominant group enterprises that have the capital, business experience, and contacts to outmaneuver the subordinate groupeven in the populous black townships which they can now legally invade. Consequently, African business groups have asked for, but did not receive, "a sunset clause" as protection for black business "from white competition for say five years while there is catching up." 79 Dominant group efforts at ensuring privilege extend beyond political maneuvering and dismantling apartheid in a self-interested fashion. In the politics and social life of the new South Africa, some sharing by the dominant elite with the subordinate elite is clearly unavoidable and, indeed, essential. Inculcating self-serving norms, however, can help safeguard dominant group power and preeminence, despite the sharing, and allow the dominant group to consolidate many of the advantages it acquired as a result of apartheid. Norms of redistribution, for instance, are strongly opposed, and the values of justice, equity, and fairness promulgated by the subordinate groups are largely ignored. Some members of the dominant elite go so far as to argue that "the key to social harmony [lies] in having some level of inequality in society" so people will have something to aspire to. 80 In U mtata, once open discrimination against Mricans was no longer feasible, the dominant group entrenched itself by quickly instituting a rigid nonracial "merit" system. A similar phenomenon is well underway throughout South Africa. Spelling out the popular new social norm for his company, the chairman of the Anglo-American Corporation explained, "Our aim is to make every job part of a nonracial career path, available on the basis of merit alone, not to create a kind of apartheid in reverse at the expense of white employees. " 81 Most major companies now have policies of "equal opportunity," declaring their commitment to the advancement of employees on merit and without discrimination. Unions representing the subordinate groups are correct in regarding the merit system as "ensuring a white monopoly of top positions. "82 City Press, 5 May 1991. "Black Business Chambers of Commerce in a Changing South Africa," South Africa Foundation Review, September 1990. 80 Business Day, 24 January 1991. 81 Gavin Reily in Financial Mail, 21 July 1989. 8 2 Weekly Mail, 18-24 January 1991. 78

79

[204]

A Culture of Dominance

The emerging opposition to affirmative action for subordinate group members in the new South Mrica is particularly striking, given the many decades of conscious affirmative action for the dominant group. Mention has already been made of the enormous public resources that were earmarked for Mrikaner upliftment after the National Party assumed power in 1948. But even that was not the beginning. Between 1925 and 1928, for instance, the Department of Railways and Harbours "followed a definite policy of employing European labourers to perform work for which previously non-Europeans had almost exclusively been used, and at a higher rate of pay." White laborers increased during this period from 4, 760 to 15,878 as temporary, low-paid African employees were replaced by higher-paid whites with full job tenure. This policy was applauded because "it not merely aims at using the unskilled white man to replace the native ... but gradually increases the numbers of unskilled whites [who] have been taken into permanent service" (Carnegie Commission, 1932: 23). In like manner, for over ninety years, the question was raised "whether gold mines could not dismiss at least a part of their huge native labour force and replace these by white men, so as to create more employment" (Carnegie Commission, 1932: 30). In fiscal year 1929-30, the Union government spent more than £36,064,000 chiefly on behalf of poor whites, according to the findings of the Carnegie Commission's inquiry into the poor white problem (Table 1), which supported this affirmative action for whites: Long-continued economic equality of poor whites and the great mass of non-Europeans, and propinquity of their dwellings, tend to bring them to social equality. This impairs the tradition which counteracts miscegenation, and the social line of colour division is noticeably weakening .... a policy of protection by reservation of work to the European should be treated as merely a measure of transition for a period during which the poor white is given the opportunity to adapt himself to new conditions in South Africa" (1932: ii).

One result of many decades of affirmative action for the dominant group is that by 1991 South Africa's public service, with the exception oflaborers, was only 25.8 percent black. 8 3 Because circumstances have changed, the dominant elite is now making the case that affirmative action is antithetical to nonracialism 83

Business Day, 28 January 1991. Including laborers, the figure is 38 percent black. [205]

Dismantling Apartheid

and merit. The public is being programmed to understand that affirmative action means "the implementation, one way or another, of racial quotas irrespective of merit." 84 One partisan understood the choice to be "between affirmative action, often called positive discrimination, on the one hand, and equal opportunity based purely on merit on the other." 85 The dominant elite's normative disapproval of affirmative action is particularly ominous, for as we saw in U mtata, it wants both to define "merit" and to implement the merit system. As in U mtata, policy with respect to affirmative action will affect the composition of the public service in the new South Africa. As advisers to politicians and implementers of policy, senior government officials will play a powerful role in policy-making. How "a nonracial approach," "democratization," and "equal opportunity," affect the country will depend largely on how such concepts are shaped by the administrative machinery. A new and expanded civil service is in fact expected, including larger social welfare departments, regional administrations, a larger police force, and substantial Mricanization. Here, however, the dominant group government plans to "insist that 'professional' recruitment and promotion criteria apply in the military and the bureaucracy. The majority government would have to accept that professional competence, not race or political allegiance, determines who joins the defence force and civil service and who is promoted by them .... In practice, the effect would be to ensure that the key arms of the government remained significantly white for some time." 86 Significantly, as in Umtata, only minimal "sharing" in the economy is envisaged. The proposed new economic norms of free enterprise, deregulation, and privatization threaten to keep virtually all of South Mrica's economic resources in dominant group hands. Perhaps most noteworthy of all are the dominant elite's plans for privatization. Now that it may no longer have exclusive control of the state, the longstanding policy of maintaining major state enterprises no longer serves its members' particularistic interests. So, capitalizing on the ideological support in Britain and America for a laissez-faire economic strategy, they plan to "sell the family silver" -that is, most of the country's major Financial Mail, 21 July 1989. "Black Management Development: Some prospects," South African Foundation Review, January 1990. 86 "The Government's Negotiations Approach: A Possible Scenario," and "Negotiations: Prospect for Success," South African Foundation Review, August 1990. 84

85

[206]

A Culture of Dominance

economic and strategic resources-to themselves, under the guise of privatization. 87 In 1989, the minister of finance, reversing the policy of promoting state-owned companies, explained that a major, cohesive package to help South Mrica adjust to the international situation was emerging which "would include the selling off of State enterprises which could be run as a business." 88 Eventually, the list of assets to be sold included the South Mrican Coal, Oil, and Gas Corporation (SASOL), SATS, Posts and Telecommunications, ISCOR, the Aluminum Corporation of South Mrica (ALUSAF), the State Forests, ESKOM, the sorghum beer industry, South African Airways, and the Meat Board. Selling government and parastatal operations to private investors "kills three birds with one stone. Firstly, it reduces public expenditure, thereby negating the need to keep raising taxes. Secondly, it shifts operation of several key activities into the hands of shareholders who are motivated by profit and therefore want to make such activities run more . . . productively. Thirdly, it makes funds available for government to devote to badly needed infrastructural projects instead of to wages." 89 The adjustment the minister planned for the national economy was to transform the huge public assets into private dominant group assets before the subordinate groups could have a say in their disposition. The shares would be sold to financial institutions and on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange-a "nonracial" marketplace in which the dominant elite would be well placed to take control of these assets. Privatization also means that funds will be available to increase social reforms and African embourgeoisement without putting excessive squeeze on the white working classes and thereby triggering a rightwing revolt. It means that as Africans enter politics they will not be able to control key areas of the economy. It means, further, that the future position of the dominant elite will be secure because of its control over the economy. Not only the dominant elite but, in many cases, other dominant group members could benefit: stock purchasing "concessions" could be given to civil servants whose jobs would move from the civil service to the private sector. 90 As a result, the dominant group in general, as well as the dominant elite, would share in the private ownership of the nation's public assets. 19 July 1989. Cape Times, 17 February 1989. 89 "Hope for South Africa's Economy," South Africa Foundation Review, April1988. 90 Argus, 19 July 1989. 87 Argus,

88

[207]

Dismantling Apartheid

The privatization maneuver not only involves the transfer of public assets into private hands; it also involves jobs. The hundreds of thousands of dominant group members who benefited from the government's job creation program and affirmative action for whites would receive job security as private sector employees. The Commission for Administration in the Department of Administration and Privatization is still looking for more "public sector jobs [which] can be handed over to the private sector."91 Future governments would not be able to discharge these people and would not have these posts to distribute to their constituencies. Social mobility for subordinate groups via the state bureaucracy would be partially curtailed. The privatization of South Africa's economy would, in this manner, effectively perpetuate the present patterns of economic dominance by placing most major assets in the private hands of the present dominant group and by seeing to it that it continues to control tens of thousands of key jobs. Figuratively speaking, the Ship of State, formerly the principal tool of white dominance, would be scuttled in order to ensure that economic relations remain unchanged. The public outcry and counterthreats of nationalization have caused this policy to become less overt, but there are still plans to raise money for further privatization. 92 Along with the strategic manipulation of the society's norms, other changes in the social structure, as in U mtata, are being selectively encouraged, notably, social segmentation and restratification along class lines. 93 The hope is that subordinate group embourgeoisement will support the dominant elite by instilling dominant group values and calling attention to class interests. This, by the way, is not an entirely new strategy of social control. As early as 1960 it was argued that the townships could be stabilized by permitting urbanized Mricans greater freedom of movement and employment, thereby creating a "loyal middle-class type Bantu" (Posel, 1990: 5). 94 It has also been a longBusiness Day, 15 February 1989. Business Day, 25 January 1991. 93 Sunday Times, 13 March 1988. Recognizing the power of the white working class, however, the dominant elite concludes that "political reform cannot be achieved without ... rapid economic growth [which] tends to ameliorate opposition to reform by those classes who experience reform as relative loss of status-in South Mrica's case, the lower classes of white workers" (Business Day, 15 March 1988). 94 And theoretically, it is not a surprise. "Elite circulation" is a concept used by Mosca and Pareto to refer to the changing composition of elites and to the recruitment of outside talent into the ranks of the elites. 91

92

[208]

A Culture of Dominance

standing policy to exercise control over the education of subordinate group leaders as a means of social control. In the early decades of this century, one of the motives for establishing the South Mrican Native College at Fort Hare was "the fostering of a black elite to mediate the demands of the majority, and the reliance on the 'civilising' potential of education to dampen revolutionary energies" (Singh, 1991: 10). Now, in these times of rapid change, the activities of the dominant group universities have become the backbone of the social control process. Like universities everywhere, they pursue teaching, research, and training within parameters set by the dominant groups, producing the elites and functionaries required by the existing stratification system, and they have set themselves the task of training the subordinate group intellectuals (Singh, 1991: 5). In the past, so-called English universities-Witwatersrand, Rhodes, Natal, Cape Town-enrolled very few students of color. 95 In the 1980s, however, these universities committed themselves to nonracialism. By 1986, 20 percent of the University of Cape Town's students were subordinate group members. 96 It had instituted a "vigorous programme of recruiting black students with academic ability" and allocated 35 percent of all scholarship funds to these students. 97 Though still a long way from reflecting South Mrican society, the university plans to Africanize as rapidly as possible (Moulder, n.d.: 3). By 1987, 25 percent of the first-year students at the University of Witwatersrand were "disadvantaged," largely Mricans. Over all, it had 20 percent black students. 98 In addition, 15 percent of the students in the Faculty of Business Administration were from the subordinate 9 5 In 1959 the legislature enacted the Extension of University Education Act, which established separate colleges for various racial groups and prevented black students from enrolling in white universities. A permit system was established for "exceptions," but in general, white universities could no longer admit black students. In January 1986 the government withdrew the permit ruling but retained the statute giving the minister the right to apply a quota system (Weekend Argus, 11 January 1986). 96 In June, the figures were 3.5 percent Mrican, 10.5 percent Colored, and 2.4 percent Indian (University of Cape Town Press Release, 1986); later in the year, updated enrollment figures showed 10,342 white, 439 African, 1,295 Colored, 299 Asian, and 18 Chinese students enrolled. 97The University of Cape Town Fund in New York raised $209,000 in 1985. The Kellog Foundation approved a grant of $450,000 over seven years to provide scholarships for thirty-six black undergraduates and postgraduate fellows (Monday Paper, 613 October 1986). 98 Star, 12 March 1988.

[209]

Dismantling Apartheid

group. Significantly for the creation of a subordinate elite with a commitment to free enterprise capitalism, the target was to have a 40 percent black enrollment in business administration by 1992. 99 Sixty Mricans entered Witwatersrand's engineering program in 1988. Natal University aims at admitting 67 percent African students by 2010, instead of the 13 percent it currently enrolls. Both Natal and Rhodes have already modified their admissions process "to make allowances for the inadequacies endemic in black education, and try to test potential to succeed at university rather than proven academic record." Other dominant group universities, even some Mrikaansspeaking ones, have moved in the same direction, consciously opening their doors to subordinate group students. By 1989 there were 5,599 Mrican students enrolled in the English-speaking white universities, twice the number enrolled in 1985. 100 The business community, another powerful segment of the dominant elite, is joining the universities in actively fostering subordinate group embourgeoisement, recognizing that otherwise, "white business runs the very real risk of alienating itself permanently from its major consumer market, from its future business partners, and from its natural allies in advancing common business interests and on free enterprise principles." 101 Because "the black business sector retains the capacity to act as a critically important bridge between white business and the black majority," black business is perceived as "a potential ally of white capital." The business community hopes that embourgeoisement of the subordinate elite will stave off a demise in the capitalist system, once there is political change. 102 Weekly Mail, 26 June-2 July 1987. woweekly Mail, 1-7 February 1991.

99

101 "Black Economic Empowerment," South Africa Foundation Review, August 1988, p. 4. 102 "Between a Rock and a Hard Place," and "The Failure of Black Advancement," South Africa Foundation Review, August 1988. The Sullivan Principles, and similar employment codes, are the most visible business contribution to this effort. They demand that employers desegregate all eating, comfort, and work facilities; provide equal and fair employment practices for all employees; give equal pay for equal or comparable work; provide training programs to prepare substantial numbers of blacks for supervisory, administrative, clerical, and technical jobs; and increase the number of blacks in management and supervisory positions. In addition, the signatories agree to work to eliminate laws and customs that impede social and political justice and to improve the quality of employees' lives outside the workplace, in housing, transportation, schooling, recreation, and health. During 1983-85 the Sullivan signatories increased the number of black managers in their companies from 3. 7 percent to 5 percent (Hauck, 1987: 6).

[210]

A Culture of Dominance

In addition to providing substantial financial and technical assistance to subordinate group entrepreneurs, the dominant group private sector, in a dramatic reversal, is investing heavily in activities and programs to promote black managers within its own ranks. The rationale is that "longer term health of the private sector and of the free market basis of our economy will be greatly assisted by the emergence of a strong black representation in senior management levels .... For the wider society, black management advancement, like black economic empowerment as a whole, will be a critical part of the recipe for a democracy in a post apartheid South Mrica." The private sector has had limited success, though. Subordinate group members complain of tokenism, collegial prejudice, and excessively narrow career paths. In view of the apartheid social structure, it is difficult for them not to feel "profound alienation" in the corporate environment as well as in the broader society. 103 The dominant group, by contrast, perceives educational background, cultural deficiencies, poor communication skills, and lack of exposure to Western business concepts as the major impediments to greater progress in this area. 104 These perceptions say a great deal about how a merit system, as a substitute for affirmative action, is likely to work. The corporate community will not be deterred, however. Because "nerves in business circles have been jangled by ANC hints of trying to break the concentration of economic power in the hands of South African business giants," the South African Chamber of Business decided on a high-level meeting with the ANC "to discuss an overall economic strategy to cope with the massive tasks facing South Mricaand to identifY common ground." Big businesses have even developed a funding relationship to the ANC: "By talking to the ANC and by replenishing its coffers, their plan may be to ensure that the 'moderates' in the ANC triumph over the communists." 105 Just as giving is part of the business elite's strategy, soliciting business barons has paradoxically become an important component of the ANC's strategy of internal fund raising. These links may be having a social control effect. Talk of nationalization is said to have so offended the dominant elite that later ANC documents on economic policy are 103 "Black Management Development: Some Prospects," South African Foundation Review, January 1990. t04''The Marginal Man: Black Management Development," South African Foundation Review, January 1990. 105 Star, 3 and 20 October 1990.

[211]

Dismantling Apartheid

much softer on this issue: "We are very conscious of the critical importance of . . . the confidence in the future of both the national and international business communities and investors." 106 Although it asserted that market forces by themselves will only perpetuate existing disparities of income and wealth, the ANC draft economic policy of October 1990 elicited the newspaper headline, "Business Approves of Shift in ANC Nationalisation Policy." 107 The dominant elite's goals seem clear. Finding, as in Umtata, that they must cooperate with the subordinate group, they want to interact with the subordinate elite and use that elite to hold the "masses" at bay. Many analysts see De Klerk's release of Nelson Mandela as further support for this proposition: "Mandela emerges in his seventies as the government's kind of practical politician, not attracted to radical solutions for complicated problems. And De Klerk has cleverly co-opted Mandela into the process of figuring out what to do" (Ungar, 1990: 25). Because of their respective needs, some even anticipate an eventual alliance between the National Party and the ANC, like the Trusted Ten. One American commentator wrote: I am convinced that for all the public posturing and nasty rhetoric, the basic deal has already been cut-that the National Party and the ANC are effectively becoming a ruling coalition and only the details of their historic bargain remain to be worked out. . . . De Klerk and Mandela, of course, need each other desperately. Each recognizes that the cost of winning an armed struggle against the other's forces is prohibitive, and neither one sees himself as having any viable alternative negotiating partners. [Ungar, 1990: 24]

For their own good reasons, many subordinate group members are themselves assisting the subordinate group embourgeoisement. They have formed organizations such as the Get Ahead Foundation, whose major activity is to provide loans to black businesses. 108 Similarly, a group of prominent Mricans have formed Black Equity Participation Ltd. to promote business ownership by blacks (Hauck, 1987: 11). The Soweto Investment Trust Company, a spinoff of the Soweto Chamber of Commerce and Industries, aims to promote black businesses by 106

Star, 20 October 1990. Press, 7 October 1990.

107 City

108 South Africans are not the only people actively supporting African embourgoisement. Between 1988 and 1992 the British government planned to spend R80 million "on students and on education, training and community projects'" for Africans (Sunday Tribune, 13 March 1988).

[212]

A Culture of Dominance

providing short- and long-term financing. The company describes itself as "a private business venture initiated by a trust and run by businessmen with a proven track record for entrepreneurial expertise and success."109 In 1990 the National Industrial Chamber (NIC) was formed to assist black manufacturers. no All these activities aid and promote a subordinate elite that is firmly tied to many of the values, norms, ideas, and interests of the dominant elite. Throughout the 1980s this subordinate elite, composed of urban professionals, skilled workers, and entrepreneurs, burgeoned nationwide. In particular, associations of the African middle class, such as NAFCOC (an association of businessmen), the Black Lawyers Association, the Black Management Forum, and the Media Workers Association, proliferated.ll 1 As the embourgoisement process proceeds, middle-level jobs-clerical, sales, artisan, and supervisory jobs-are opening to subordinate group members at a steady rate. nz While wages for blacks in the manufacturing sector, for example, were growing at a rate of nearly 6 percent, white wages in manufacturing grew at only 4.8 percent.ll 3 Furthermore, because the subordinate group is the new growth market, advertising strategies and the media are changing. Marketing resources are being channeled to the black market away from the white sector.ll 4 Supporting the increased salience of class in social stratification, the society is now providing more rewards to blacks who successfully negotiate embourgeoisement. Better job opportunities are available, and salaries are going up; apartheid barriers are coming down. ns Even before the repeal of the Group Areas Act, a major concession in govern109City Press, 27 March 1988. no Business Day, 11 October 1990. 11 1Jbid., p. 20. NAFCOC, sensitive to its relations with working-class Africans, among other things is set up to hear and adjudicate grievances against its members. The Black Lawyers Association encourages its members to give free legal services to victims of apartheid. The African managers who created the Black Management Forum in 1976 push affirmative action in the corporate community. 112 Africans' real personal income increased by 28.6 percent between 1970 and 1975, and by 3.3 percent between 1975 and 1980, mainly because of embourgoisement. The gap between black and white incomes was still substantial, however: in 1984, African per capita income was 9. 9 percent that of whites. Between 1975 and 1.984 the pitifully small African share of the net national income rose from 11.1 percent to 13.3 percent (Sinclair, 1986: 19). 113 "Bridging the Economic Gap," South Africa Foundation Review, September 1990. 114 Pretoria News, 29 May 1991. 115 The government also attempted to stem the dissatisfaction of Coloreds and Indians by, for instance, granting monthly increases to pensioners (approved in March 1988) in

[213]

Dismantling Apartheid

ment policy, for instance, was that leasehold and freehold titles for Mricans in urban areas became (theoretically) available. Reversing the apartheid premise that Mricans are only temporary sojourners in the white towns, 24,331.5 hectares ofland were set aside for middle-class Mrican housing-all of it in areas otherwise reserved for Africans. In practice, though, the process of surveying, eliminating bureaucratic difficulties, and dealing with other details of implementation meant that very few Africans actually acquired titles to their homes. N evertheless, doctors, lawyers, university professors, successful business people, and even civil servants were encouraged by the prospect of doing so. 116 Most of the crucial questions with respect to the transition in South Africa have to do with how successful the dominant elite will be in managing the change process. How well will it be able to impose the norms, values, and institutions that can ensure its continued dominance? Will segmentation and embourgeoisement create a subordinate elite that will identify with the interests and ideology of the dominant elite? It is not at all certain that the dominant elite will in fact succeed in its engineering goals. First of all, it is having difficulty keeping the allegiance of most whites. A large segment of the dominant group is rebelling. One reason is that under apartheid all whites were privileged, but significant restratification could change that. Decreasing the salience of race and increasing the salience of class alters the status position of many in the dominant group. This largely explains the panic and fierce resistance that have erupted among working-class whites. The dominant elite's incremental reforms have heightened their sense of declining social position. Some are annoyed: one well-meaning informant "opposed apartheid" but felt that the new atmosphere was "tilting things the other way." Many have expressed their annoyance, as in this letter to a newspaper in 1988: order to narrow the gap with white social pensions. At that time, the average difference was R51 per month (Cape Times, 21 March 1988). 116 Weekly Mail, 11-17 March 1988. Sam Tuntubele, an entrepreneur, became the first African officially to buy a freehold house in the Western Cape; in 1988 he purchased a four-bedroom house in a new RIO million upmarket black housing development called Faircape Homes. The director of Faircape explained, "Research has shown blacks want their own Constantia [a high-prestige, luxury neighborhood]. The only reason they would have considered living in Constantia was to own a decent home" (Cape Times, 19 March 1988). Tuntubele's company serves as a liaison between white and black businessmen: "We want to arrange for black subcontractors to work on housing development schemes." In addition, given the risk of receiving a hostile reception in the African townships, he plans "to approach these companies and ask them if we can handle the transportation of their goods into the townships" (Cape Times, 19 March 1988).

[214]

A Culture of Dominance

President Botha's advertisements call on me to tighten my belt as I pay my telephone bills, light and water, rampant inflationary food bills, transportation costs and mortgage. Unfortunately, none of my living expenses can be termed allowances and nothing is tax free. I didn't get any special payments when moving from one position to another, no golden handshakes or anything remotely exciting like that. I didn't have any pension to look forward to and this country is not "high" on social security. What I am saying is that my belt is already pretty tight. So I was wondering if perhaps President Botha could pull his in just a little bit. 117

Others are protesting more vigorously. The repeal of the Land Acts, for instance, provoked open revolt from rank-and-file whites. De Klerk explicitly promised to protect white land titles and to prevent any form of expropriation. In addition, given the legacy of apartheid, an open market system will effectively ensure that whites retain disproportionate ownership ofland for years to come. 118 Nonetheless, white farmers vehemently opposed any alteration of the laws governing land occupation and ownership. To dramatize their opposition, just days before the opening of the parliamentary session in which the Land Acts were expected to be repealed, 10,000 white farmers drove their tractors, pickup trucks, and vans into the capital city of Pretoria and camped in the center of town. The city center was immobilized. Police, with tear gas and dogs, were brought in to evict the demonstrators. 119 On another occasion, "in an atmosphere reminiscent of the American Deep South in the sixties with its notorious lynch mobs," Africans who reclaimed the land from which they had been forcibly removed "were attacked by . . . rightwingers on horseback and in bakkies [pickup trucks] before dawn. Their houses were burnt down and they were assaulted by the self-styled 'law enforcers.' ... the rightwingers kicked down doors, smashed belongings and assaulted [Africans] with sticks and batons." 120 Then after De Klerk's speech unbanning the ANC, 30,000 CP supporters converged on Pretoria to declare their opposition to his policies. Cries of "traitor" met the announcement that the final pillars of apartheid-the Group Areas Act, the Land Acts, and the Sunday Times, 20 March 1988. us South Africa has a land area of about 122 million hectares, 85 million under the control of 50,000 white commercial farmers. The average white farmer has a holding of 700 hectares of which 286 are arable, while the average African farmer has a holding of 13 hectares of which 0. 9 is arable. White farmers receive at least twice as much assistance as the 1.2 million black farmers (Weekly Mail, 25-31 January 1991). U9 Star, 30 January 1991. 120 Argus, 11 May 1991. 117

[215]

Dismantling Apartheid

Population Registration Act-were to be repealed. Such events offer dramatic evidence that dominant group members who see their interests threatened are rebelling against the dominant elite's agenda. The substantial stresses have in fact resulted in classbased fission within the dominant group. In the 1980s, when the National Party started to "reform" apartheid, working-class whites objected.121 In 1982, capitalizing on these sentiments, Andries Teurnicht led a right-wing break from the National Party to form the Conservative Party, which "advocates a reversal of tentative racial liberalization policy." 122 By appealing to the old norms of dominance, Treunicht has been able to rally the dominant group non-elite. Treunicht accused the government of carrying out a coup against its own people. Others asserted, "The fight is now on for the survival of white people." 123 In a 1986 interview, a Conservative Party MP explained: I believe there are racial differences. Why else would it be impossible to transfuse blood between the races? Whites get illnesses if given black blood .... The land is already fairly distributed. [With the homelands], one must include Bechuanaland, Basutoland, and Swaziland, which are also part of South Africa. Furthermore, much of the white area is not arable. I'm thinking particularly about the Karoo. So the land distribution is already as it should be .... The same is true for the distribution of wealth: 66 percent of white taxes already goes to blacks. 124 . . . The government is already redistributing the wealth, through income redistribution. As regards assets, you must talk to Harry Oppenheimer [chairman, Anglo-American Corporation]. He owns over half of all the assets in South Mrica-gold mines, and so on .... The Mricans comprise distinct and incompatible "nations," the Zulu, Xhosa, Sotho, Tswana .... The whites? Oh, it's only myths and the media which divide the English and the Afrikaners. They can live together in one nation. We will have to talk to the Coloreds and Asians about their homelands. 12 1 S. J. Terre blanche, 1989: 17, says, "I am of the opinion that it is wrong to regard the extreme Right-wing in Afrikaner circles as mainly an ideological phenomenon." He, too, sees it as a working-class response to the "impoverishing effects" oflow economic growth. 122 New York Times, 3 March 1988. 123 Business Day, 4 February 1991; Cape Times, 2 and 5 February 1991. 124 In addition to the subsidies for black education, health, housing, and transportation, he was including some of the funds for the police, army, government departments that administer apartheid, the cost of maintaining separate facilities, the cost of the homelands, and so on.

[216]

A Culture of Dominance

This MP punctuated his comments with statements about the failures of majority government elsewhere in Africa and about the communist threat. When pressed further, however, he conceded, "The bottom line is that I want to be governed by my own race." The dominant group non-elite, especially those who have recently emerged from "poor white" status, are likely to subscribe to this view of the world. Their status is most threatened by the impending changes. 125 Like their counterparts in U mtata, they interpret the dominant elite's policies as a sellout of their interests. They complain of" the increasing impoverishment of whites because of . . . narrowing the wage gap and redistribution of wealth and income; the ousting of whites from their traditional employment opportunities; and the forced integration in the labour sphere, with the attendant social disruptions and related problems." 126 A nonracial, egalitarian South Africa is not compatible with their world view. They have learned to feel entitled to ascribed status and privilege. They believe their dominance is justified. So it is not just the material interests of the dominant group's working class that are in jeopardy; the psychological and emotional bases of their self-image are being undercut as well. 127 The Conservative Party petitioned the government to protect white incomes, arguing that white workers have become steadily poorer since the mid-1970s despite their patriotism and hard work: "The Government is busy impoverishing and neglecting whites on an outrageous scale." The CP rejects racially integrated systems of local government, for instance, because "white ratepayers will have to pay five times as much in municipal tariffs." 128 The party promises that if it comes to power not a single cent of the white man's money will be spent on blacks (Terreblanche, 1989). 12s Cowell, 126

1986: 64.

Business Day, June 26, 1987, p. 4.

127 Pierre Hugo (1983) has persuasively argued that students of white South Africa must give more salience to the effect of fear on white behavior. His research shows that Afrikaner farmers in the Transvaal believe that majority rule will threaten whites' physical safety, undermine the Afrikaner language and culture, lower incomes and living standards for whites, and promote black discrimination against whites. It is easy to see how working-class Afrikaners, as contrasted with the white bourgeoisie, feel themselves vulnerable and consequently fear change in a way that the well-to-do will not. While Hugo sees whites' fears as "primordial," it seems to me that some of them derive from their class positions. 128 Star, 25 March 1988; Sunday Star, 28 January 1991.

[217]

Dismantling Apartheid

The Conservative Party will probably never have a chance to come to power because there will probably never be another all-white election. Nevertheless, white right groups can disrupt the dominant elite's guidance of the change process. They are heavily armed, and some of their "more violent offshoots have claimed credit for bombings at the homes or offices of Cabinet members and Johannesburg city councillors; at opposition newspapers; at Jewish institutions; and at bus stops frequented by black commuters" (Ungar, 1990: 25). Furthermore, the potential for a conservative coup is increased by the thousands of disgruntled policemen and soldiers whose sympathies are likely to be with the right wing. Focusing on its particularistic interests, the dominant elite disapproves of the white right. Most observers agree that De Klerk's declarations in the 1991 opening session of Parliament "confirmed a clean break with the Afrikaner right." 129 The dominant elite argues that the Conservative Party is "on a losing wicket with dreams of partition which [take] no cognizance of the realities of an industrializing country's needs"; to maintain a 3 to 5 percent national growth rate, 80,000 black managers would be needed, pointed out one MP from the Progressive Federal Party. Projections show the shortage of skilled manpower increasing to 442,000 by the early 1990s. As these needs cannot be met without the black population, he concluded that the Conservative Party could not implement its policies without being prepared to live with a negative growth rate. 130 In his 1987-88 budget speech, Minister of Finance Barend du Plessis "identified 'equal opportunities for ... the accumulation of wealth' as a priority if the 'less privileged' were to be convinced of the merits of free enterprise. Reports from the national security management system confirm that redressing black social and economic grievances must be a kingpin in the government's security strategy: 'without welfare, security is doubtful.' " 131 In other words black socioeconomic improvement is a sine qua non for economic and social stability and for the security of the dominant elite. Among the practical consequences of this orientation were a 40 percent increase in black education spending and a 40 percent increase in the budget for social services, compared with a 35 percent increase in security spending and a 26 percent increase in funds for homeland development. Business Day, 4 February 1991. Business Day, 26 June 1987, p. 4. 131 South Africa Foundation News, September 1987, p. 3.

129 130

[218]

A Culture of Dominance

Mrikaners who have joined the ranks of the dominant elite agree, calling for the same policies and reforms as the English-speaking elite. A highly respected group of thirty-four academics at Stellenbosch U niversity broke publicly with President Bothajust before the 1987 white elections. The Discussion Group '85, which included some of "Afrikanerdom's heavyweight political thinkers," warned that "only farreaching and rapid change, leading to a non-racial democracy, can save South Mrica from political, economic, and social disaster." 132 The class-related conflicts within the dominant group are sometimes misinterpreted as ethnic problems. A National Party MP contrasted the "protect our culture" objectives of the Afrikaners with the "protect our wealth" objectives of the English. Afrikaners, he said, are "wrestling with the problem of what a black majority government will mean to the Mrikaans culture and language," while the English "want to be part of a political movement that can beat the extremists . . . . they would support [the President] if he forged an alliance with Mandela."133 In truth, however, what he was describing was the difference between the working class and the elite in the dominant group. 134 The right wing notwithstanding, however, the greatest threat to the dominant elite's change management efforts comes from the subordinate non-elite, who sense that they will not share in the rewards to be enjoyed by the new subordinate elite. They will not be among the few subordinate group members who enjoy new status and new opportunities. They will not be able to escape the constraints of race, because their class credentials will be inadequate. For them, African embourgeoisement is frightening because it raises the specter of subordinate elite co-optation and little change for the vast majority. 13·5 132 Sunday Times, 13 March 1988. The Afrikaner bourgeoisie, sometimes referred to as "thinking Afrikaners on the platteland and in the Pretoria establishment," may well be coalescing (like the Afrikaner working class) as a class-based corporate actor. Their Afrikaans weekly newspaper, Vrye Weekblad, is "aimed at people striving for a democratic and just South Africa, particularly Afrikaners" (The Star, 22 March 1988). Afrikaners on the right are organizing as well. An Afrikaner freedom foundation has been formed "to work for the establishment of a sovereign state separate from the Republic, and its activities [will] include books, writings and meetings throughout the country.... Minority domination as practiced in the RSA today is morally unjust and untenable. Citizenship on an equal basis for one mixed population leads to free association and oneman-one-vote despite all claims to the contrary and despite complicated systems and guarantees which are being bandied about" (Sowetan, 24 March 1988). 133 "Nation Building Update," South African Foundation Review, July 1990. 134 Derek Christophers, Sunday Times, 20 January 1991. !35 According to some, this is precisely the government's strategy.

[219]

Dismantling Apartheid

The editor of The Sowetan, Aggrey Klaaste, expressed this sentiment in comparing South Africa with the United States. "The dominant culture in America, i.e. the wealthy white communities, co-opted by accident or design most black leaders as role models from the ghetto.... if the American situation is to become a model for South Africa, we would have an incredible nightmare on our hands." 136 Others predict that growing class differentiation cannot be avoided. Political analyst Lawrence Schlemmer has called the social and political aspirations of the African working class and African middle class irreconcilable. The "urbanizing, tradition bound people" and the "intellectual leadership of a modern resistance movement" are clashing, splitting "black political culture down the center." 137 The tensions are certainly very strong. Organizations such as Black Equity Participation have been criticized as schemes to "allow a few individuals to make capital out of the struggle to end apartheid and exploitation," and trade unions are cautious about cooperation with black business men (Hauck, 1987: 11). Black workers perceive black managers as traitors: "Upward movement by individual blacks to management levels is seen as bourgeois and elitist-a move to the enemy camp." 138 In the townships, black managers and businessmen are frequently labeled "opportunists," and there is "increasing pressure on black enterprise to take an unequivocal line in relation to the 'liberation struggle.' " 139 While some are co-opted, others in the subordinate elite are desperately trying to avoid becoming allies of dominant group interests. Many are deciding to stay in the townships, rejecting opportunities to move to better accommodations. Many acknowledge that the dominant elite wants the subordinate elite to act as a "buffer between the howling mobs in the ghetto and the white community.... [If we were] weighed down by heavy mortgages . . . we would have a sense of ownership of home and property ... [and] would thus not create social problems" (Sinclair, 1986: 20). They are sensitive to their precarious position. They know that they have to be active in politics in self-defense and in solidarity with the masses so as to avoid the appearance of betraying their poorer brethren. 136 "Nation

Building Update," South Africa Foundation Review, July 1990. Unrest Is Far from Over," South African Foundation Review, October 1990. 138 Inside South Africa, March 1987, p. 8. 13 9 "Between a Rock and a Hard Place," South Africa Foundation Review, August 1988, p. 2. 137 "The

[220]

A Culture of Dominance

For these reasons, the patterns of segmentation and restratification that occurred in U mtata may not replicate themselves throughout all of South Mrica. The power relations in Umtata under separate development and those in the country as a whole are different. Many subordinate group leaders will not affiliate as readily with dominant corporate groups, though they will be lavishly courted and feted. The situation in the country as a whole is also different from that of Umtata in that the national subordinate elite wants to replace the present dominant elite, not be absorbed by it. Acting like a dominant elite, subordinate group leaders are themselves aggressively trying to shape norms and values for the new South Africa. A popular commitment to mass-based democratic decision-making, built through years of grassroots organizing, requires even prominent leaders to obtain a mandate from the people and to report back to them as part of their accountability. Accompanying the ethic of democracy is an ethic of anti-elitism in which the nonelite are seen as determining public policy. The ANC is actively promoting constitutional principles that contrast sharply with those of the dominant elite. For instance, while the government was making the case for group rights, the ANC wanted to promote a single national identity, loyalty "binding on all South Mricans," and a Bill of Rights guaranteeing fundamental human rights to all citizens without regard to race, color, sex, or creed. The dominant elite opposes affirmative action; the subordinate elite insists that "the state and all social institutions shall be under constitutional duty to take active steps to eradicate, speedily, the economic and social inequalities produced by racial discrimination." With respect to land, for example, the dominant elite simply removed the discriminatory legislation; virtually every subordinate leader believes the new policy should involve the "implementation ofland reform in conformity with the principle of affirmative action, taking into account the status of victims of forced removals." 140 Mandela's speeches assert that affirmative action is necessary to remove existing imbalances in education, housing, and job opportunities: "Without affirmative action apartheid will end and its immoral consequences will remain, including black poverty, illiteracy and disease .... Affirmative action is needed, resulting in all people having fair access to land." 14l 140 For a full text of the ANC's "Constitutional Guidelines,"' see "Piecing Together a New South Africa," Weekly Mail, 7-13 October 1988. 141 Financial Mail, 12 October 1990.

[221]

Dismantling Apartheid

Early in 1991 the ANC issued a draft Bill of Rights. In addition to incorporating provisions from the constitutions of other countries and various human rights conventions, the draft specified rights to shelter, education, health, work, and freedom from hunger. "Also protected are worker's rights, women's rights as well as the rights of disabled persons and children. Affirmative action and environmental rights are also guaranteed." 142 The subordinate elite is now promoting its values and norms within the dominant group, trying to influence dominant group politics. Until recently, the theory of national democratic struggle contended that because the subordinate communities had the greatest interest in opposing apartheid, given their historical exclusion from institutions of power, the bulk of the people in the anti-apartheid movement should be people of color.l 43 Now, however, to strengthen their hand in the negotiations, regional offices of the ANC are placing high priority on increasing their white membership. 144 The liberation organizations have always coordinated with groups such as the Johannesburg Democratic Action Committee (Jodac), the Cape Democrats, the National Union of South African Students (Nusas), the End Conscription Campaign, and the Black Sash." 145 In the past several years, however, Mandela has been appealing to "ordinary" whites, assuring them that the culture and religious beliefs of various groups will be respected and that structural guarantees will be written into an ANC constitution to ensure that they will not be dominated. 146 The recent subscribers include Mrikaans intellectuals and people inside the Parliament who have been more willing to identify with the anti-apartheid cause. 147 The ultimate power of the subordinate group is, of course, its ability 142

Star, 31 January 1991.

143 "The

MDM: An Assessment," South Africa Foundation Review, September 1989. Argus, 1 October 1990. 145 Upfront, October 1988, p. 15. Upfront is a journal "working to transform South

144

Africa into a nonracial democracy"; it presents the viewpoint of many UDF affiliates and, among other things, debates the role of white democrats in the struggle. On the question of whites honoring the anti-apartheid call for a boycott of elections, these groups admit they are in a difficult position: "UDF affiliates, recognising the elections as an initiative by the state to regain control, are calling on the white community to use all avenues to increase opposition to Nationalist Party rule .... They also recognise that while the strategy of non-participation in government structures has been the most effective means of registering opposition for millions of South Africans, the boycott strategy is not necessarily appropriate in white areas." 146 Cape Times, 15 May 1991. 147 Democracy in Action, December 1989.

[222]

A Culture of Dominance

to withhold its participation in the dominant elite's orchestrated change process. For domination to occur, the dominated must accept it. In U mtata, the dominant and the subordinate elites cooperated because they needed one another. Likewise, say some analysts, the subordinate elite would have difficulty effectively governing the country without dominant group support, because the bureaucracy and security establishments are still in dominant group hands-but without the support of the subordinate elite the dominant elite could not muster the public support to stay in control. Analogous conditions in Umtata led to the formation of the Trusted Ten. Some pundits note that, similarly, the National Party and the ANC are "already locked in strained interdependence." In many ways, they say, "the Government and ANC are already partners in setting up negotiations. They represent the middle ground .... A political alliance should actually grow between them, rather than that they should plan to be adversaries." 148 The subordinate elite, therefore, has substantial leverage, made even greater by the fact that the dominant elite cannot return to its old power base. Exercising its power to withdraw from the conciliation process, in May 1991 the ANC actually suspended constitutional talks with the government "until such time as progress is made in regard to demands in its open letter." One of these demands was that the government act to end the political violence then spreading throughout the country. 149 The potential for ANC, PAC, and AZAPO withdrawal from dominant group processes was a big factor in the government's attempt to establish other Africans, such as Buthelezi and other homeland leaders, as bona fide subordinate group representatives. The economy may also mitigate against the success of the dominant elite's change management efforts. Reformers long argued that economic growth approaching 6 percent per year was essential to stability because only through expansion of the economic pie could the needs of the subordinate groups be met without taking resources from the dominant whites. For its part, the ANC has projected that a 9 percent growth rate over the next twenty years will be required to provide jobs for all South Africans. 150 In recent years, however, the economy has not been performing well. In 1991 the country was said to be losing 148

Star, 13 and 19 October 1990. Post, 18 May 1991. Similarly, the national executive committee of the

149 Evening

ANC Women's League sent a memorandum to President De Klerk demanding that he and his government resign if they were "unable to bring an end to this violence" (New Nation, 10 May 1991). 150 Evening Post, 21 May 1991.

[223]

Dismantling Apartheid

1,300 jobs a day, while the number of job seekers was increasing at the rate of 2. 6 percent per year. 151 If the economy cannot provide jobs, the working-class population-dominant and subordinate-will become more unsettled and pressure the elites to abdicate. The subordinate non-elite rebellion, in particular, could intensify, and the subordinate elite could be forced to cut its ties with the dominant group. Apparently aware of this danger, the finance minister declared in May 1991 that because the market system would be slow to address social imbalances during this period of little economic growth, the government should step in and kick-start the process by helping in the redistribution of wealth. 152 The ultimate challenge to the dominant elite's attempt to manage the change process, however, is the "culture of resistance." The many years of intense repression have spawned a counterculture among subordinate group members, a culture of alienation, rooted in deep mistrust of dominant group intentions and dominant institutions. This culture is particularly strong among the youth, who continue to be a major force in subordinate group politicization and who are decreasingly subject to the direction of the older generations. The culture of resistance also lingers in many grassroots organizations. They constantly warn that "the danger of the imposition of a neo-colonialist solution upon our people is a very real danger.... Post-independence Mrica is filled with examples of constitution-making in which the people had no part or say-constitutions which have served simply to perpetuate the basic colonial character of the economy and society." 153 In December 1990 these sentiments were strongly expressed at the first ANC national conference inside South Africa in thirty years. The grassroots delegates severely criticized the leadership, displaying "the anger and impatience that is festering within the black community. There is a suspicion that State President F. W. De Klerk has his own agenda, 'that of retaining white domination in a new form.' ... It was almost a repeat of the PAC conference the week before." 154 As many other South Africans also point out, white dominance is indeed the central issue in the country's process of change. The current negotiations about a constitution and particular events such as the Evening Post, 24 May 1991. Star, 30 May 1991. 153 Democracy in Action, March 1989, p. 4. 154 Sowetan, 17 December 1990. 151

152

[224]

A Culture of Dominance

right-wing assassination of Chris Hani and township violence should not obscure this fundamental fact. Dominant group behavior, therefore, may well be the most important single determinant of the viability of social organization in the new South Africa. Umtata's empirical lesson demonstrates a dominant group in South Africa can succeed in managing the speed and direction of social change and that its point of departure in this engineering is its continued privilege. For the dominant group in South Africa, apartheid has been a complete culture. Culture is being correctly recognized as an important variable in social conflict. Peter W. Black and Kevin Avruch, for instance, maintain that understanding deep-rooted conflict actually requires using the notion of culture, "in which culture is understood as an inherent feature of human consciousness, the vehicle by which humans achieve meaning" (1992: 8). The concept of culture in this sense directs attention to factors that govern people's behavior-particularly their socially constructed understandings of self and personhood and their concepts of being and action. Because apartheid has provided its primary world view, the vast majority of South Africa's dominant group is unaware of the culture of dominance that undergirds both their sense of self and their sense of an appropriate social order. The culture of dominance is equally invisible to many non-South Africans who enjoy positions of social dominance in their own societies. Making the same point with respect to the dominant gender, Peggy Mcintosh calls our attention to "men's unwillingness to grant that they are over-privileged, even though they may grant that women are disadvantaged ... [and the fact that because] men work from a base of unacknowledged privilege[,] much of their oppressiveness [is] unconscious" (Mcintosh, 1989: 202). The same is true, she emphasizes, with respect to ethnically based dominant groups in the United States: "whites are taught to think of their lives as morally neutral, normative and average, and also ideal, so that when we work to benefit others, this is seen as work which will allow 'them' to be more like 'us'" (Minnich, quoted in Mcintosh, 1989: 202). These statements apply equally well to the dominant group in South Africa. For an egalitarian, democratic society to emerge, not only must the legal structures of apartheid be eliminated, but the hidden systems of culturally based advantages that that group now enjoys must also be dismantled. Will it agree to weaken its privilege, or will it try to preserve these hidden systems? Will it agree to abandon ethnically [225]

Dismantling Apartheid

based power systems, or will it try to reconstruct power systems on slightly modified bases? The case of Umtata suggests that the elite in the dominant group will aggressively pursue forms of social segmentation and social restratification so that the emerging social order continues to provide them with intrinsic advantages. In short, they are likely to perpetuate some form of the culture of dominance.

[226]

Appendix

The Umtata sample included 100 adult respondents from the white population of about 4,000: 88 percent were born in South Mrica; 65 percent were seconded or transferred to U mtata; 18 percent were "permanent residents"; 15 percent described their status in other terms; 2 percent said the question of legal status was not applicable to them. Fifty-two respondents were male heads of household, 45 were wives, 2 were adult sons, and 1 was an adult daughter; the sample was 46 percent female and 54 percent male. Eighty-four percent were married, and 66 percent were employed. Thirty-six percent had passed matric, 26 percent had not done so; and 37 percent had postmatric education. Sixty-six percent indicated English as their home language; 25 percent Mrikaans; 5 percent, both; 4 percent another home language. Seventyfive percent of the sample identified themselves as South Africans, 6 percent as Afrikaners, 10 percent as Transkeians. Politically, 40 percent supported the National Party; 12 percent, the New Republic Party; 13 percent, the Progressive Federal Party, with other parties having much smaller representation. Religiously, 28 percent were Methodist, 26 percent Anglican, 23 percent Dutch Reformed, 5 percent Presbyterian, 4 percent were Catholic; 24 percent attended church once a week or more; 47 percent attended once in three months or less often. At the time of the interview, 9 percent were property owners: twothirds of this group owned residential property; one-third owned leisure property; 11 percent owned commercial property. Only 11 percent had acquired their property during the previous year; most had been property owners before independence. [227]

Appendix

Among the questions asked were these: 1. "Do most whites in U mtata feel that only whites should be allowed to vote for Town Council, or do they feel that black property owners and residents should also be allowed to vote on the same rolls?" The responses: 86% 0% 10% 2% 2%

both blacks and whites whites only don't know other no response

2. "Do most whites in Umtata object to blacks sharing the same hotels, restaurants, bars, cinemas, and so on, or do most whites not object?" The responses: 78% 12% 4% 5% 1%

do not object object don't know other no response

3. "Do most whites here think that blacks should or should not hold jobs equal to or higher than whites, assuming, of course, that the blacks have equal or higher qualifications?" The responses: 86% 5% 5% 3% 1%

blacks should blacks should not don't know other no response

4. "In your opinion, would most whites in U mtata object to having a black neighbor or would they not object?" The responses: 61% 16% 6% 2% 1% 11% 3%

not object object don't know other no response depends upon the neighbor some would, some would not object [228]

Appendix

5. "Would most white parents in Umtata object to black children attending the same schools as their children, or would they not object?" The responses: 33% 49% 15% 2% 1%

would not object would object don't know other no response

6. "Do most whites in Umtata object to blacks and whites in Transkei being allowed to intermarry, or do they not object?" The responses: 17% 52% 18% 5% 3% 5%

not object object don't know other no response it's up to the individual

[229]

Bibliography

Adam, H., and K. Moodley. South Africa without Apartheid. Capetown: Longman, 1986. Adam, Heribert. South Africa: Sociological Perspectives. London: Oxford U niversity Press, 1971. ANC. "Bury the Racist Parliament." Flyer, January 1991. "ANC Guidelines Must Be Debated by All." Derrwcracy in Action, March 1989. Archer, Sean. "Defence Expenditure and Arms Procurement in South Africa." Lecture, University of Cape Town, Center for African Studies, 22 March 1989. A State in the Making: Progress in Transkei. Pretoria: Department oflnformation, 1970. Barclays National Bank Limited. Economic Conditions in the Republic ofTranskei. Natal Witness, 1977. Barnett, Steve. "Identity, Choice, and Caste Ideology in Contemporary South India." In Symbolic Anthropology, ed. J. Dolgin, D. Kemnitzer, and D. Schneider. New York: Columbia University Press, 1977. Barth, F. "Segmentary Opposition and the Theory of Games." Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 89.1 (1959): 5-21. Beinart, William. The Political Economy of Pondoland, 1860 to 1930. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Beinart, William, and C. Bundy. Hidden Struggles in Rural South Africa. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1987. BENBO, Black Development in South Africa. Pretoria: Bureau for Economic Research and Bantu Development, 1975. Benjamin, Jessica. The Bonds of Love: Psychoanalysis, Feminism, and the Problem of Domination. New York: Pantheon, 1988. Bernardi, Bernardo, ed. The Concept and Dynamics of Culture. The Hague: Mouton, 1977. Berry, J. W. "Social and Cultural Change." In Handbook of Cross-Cultural Psy[231]

Bibliography chology, vol. 5, Social Psychology, ed. Harry C. Triandis and Richard W. Brislin. Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1980. "Between a Rock and a Hard Place." South Africa Foundation Review, August 1988. Black, Peter W., and Kevin Avruch. "The Role of Cultural Anthropology in an Institute for Conflict Analysis and Resolution." Human Peace 9 (Fall1992). "Black Communalism." Statement, meeting of the Black Peoples Convention, 3031 May 1976. "Black Economic Empowerment." South Africa Foundation Review, August 1988. "Black Management Development: Some Prospects." South Africa Foundation Review, January 1990. Blalock, A., and H. Blalock. Introduction to Social Research. Engelwood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1982. Bond, George C. "Discussion: The Dilemma of Dual Fabrications of the Past." Paper presented to Rutgers University Anthropology Seminar, 28 November 1989. - - . "Fieldnotes: Research in Past Occurences." In Fieldnotes: The Making of Anthropology, ed. R. Sanjek. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990. Boonzaier, E., and J. Sharp. South African Keywords. Cape Town: David Phillip, 1988. Bothma, Michael. "Boundaries Redefined: The Concept of Community amongst 'Whites' in a Small South African Town." Research proposal for departmental seminar, anthropology Department, University of Cape Town, May 1989. Bottomore, T. B. Classes in Modern Society. New York: Pantheon, 1966a. - - . Elites and Society. Middlesex: Penguin, 1966b. Boudon, Raymond. "Why Theories of Social Change Fail: Some Methodological Thoughts." Public Opinion Quarterly 47 (1983): 143-60. Brownlee, F., ed. The Transkeian Native Territories: Historical Records. Lovedale: Lovedale Institution Press, 1923. - - . Transkei Native Territories. Westport: Negro Universities Press, 1970. Bundy, Colin. The Rise and Fall of the South African Peasantry. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979. Burgess, M. Elaine. "Race and Social Change in South Africa: Divergent Perspectives." Journal of Ethnic Studies 11.1 (1983): 46-71. Burton, M., and J. Higley. "Invitation to Elite Theory: The Basic Contentions Reconsidered." In Power Elites and Organizations, ed. G. W. Domholf and T. R. Dye. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1987. Campion, H. The New Transkei. Sandton: Valiant, 1976. Carnegie Commission oflnvestigation on the Poor White Question in South Africa. "The Poor White Problem in South Africa." Stellenbosch Proecclesiadrukkery, 1932. Carter, G. Separate Development: The Challenge of the Transkei. Johannesburg: South Africa Institute of Race Relations, 1966. Castaneda, J. G. "Overseas Education and the Strengthening of Civil Society in Latin America." Paper presented to Conference on Overseas Education and International Development, Princeton, N.J., May 28-29, 1991. [232]

Bibliography Charton, Nancy C. J. "Black Elites in the Transkei." Politikon 3.2 (1976): 61-105. Cohen, Abner. The Politics of Elite Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1966. Cohen, Percy. "Social Attitudes and Sociological Inquiry." British Journal of Sociology 17 (1966): 341-52. Cohen, Robin. Endgame in South Africa? Trenton, N.J.: Africa World Press, 1988. Cohen, Ronald. "Ethnicity: Problem and Focus in Anthropology." Annual Review of Anthropology 7 (1978): 379-403. Cowell, Alan. "To the Far Right of Apartheid." New York Times Magazine, 23 November 1986, p. 64. Crais, C. White Supremacy and Black Resistance. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. Crapanzano, Vincent. Waiting: The Whites of South Africa. New York: Random House, 1985. Daniel, D. C., and Don Nanjira. The Status of Aliens in East Africa. New York: Praeger, 1976. de Jongh, M. "Interaction and Transaction: A Study of Counciliar Behaviour in a Black South African Township." Ph.D. diss., Rhodes University, Grahamstown. 1979. --."Veracity and Validity in Black Urban Research in South Africa: Problems of Practicability and Perception." In Truth Be in the Field, ed. P. Hugo. Pretoria: UNISA, 1990. Derricourt, Robin M. Man on the Kafue: The Archeology and History of the Itezhitezhi Area. New York: L. Barber, 1985. Dolgin, Janet, David Kemnitzer, and David Schneider, ed. Symbolic Anthropology. New York: Columbia University Press, 1977. Dornhoff, G. W., and T. R. Dye, ed. Power Elites and Organizations. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1987. Dovidio, J., and Ellyson, S. "Patterns of Visual Dominance Behavior in Humans." In Power, Dominance, and Nonverbal Behavior, ed. S. Ellyson and J. Dovidio. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1985. Dubow, Saul. "Race, Civilisation, and Culture: The Elaboration of Segregationist Discourse in the Inter-War Years." In The Politics of Race, Class, and Nationalism in Twentieth Century South Africa, ed. S. Marks and S. Trapido. New York: Longman, 1987. - - . "The Idea of Race in Early 20th Century South Africa." Paper for Africa Seminar, University of Cape Town, 26 April1989. du Preez, Peter. "Construction of Alternatives in Parlimentary Debate." South African Journal of Psychology (1972): 23-40. --."Explanations of Racial Antagonism." Social Dynamics 3.1 (1977): 17-25. Ellyson, S., and J. Dovidio, ed. Power, Dominance, and Nonverbal Behavior. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1985. Enloe, Cynthia H. Police, Military, and Ethnicity: Foundations of State Power. New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Books, 1980. Enslin, Penny. "Apartheid Ideology in South African Education." Philosophical Forum 18.2-3 (1986-87): 105-14. [233]

Bibliography Epstein, A. Politics in an Urban African Community. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1958. Evans-Pritchard, E. E. Nuer: A Description of the Modes of Livelihood and Political Institutions of a Nilotic People. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1940. ''The Failure of Black Advancement." South Africa Foundation Review, August 1988. Fernandez, James W. Persuasions and Performances: The Play of Tropes in Culture. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1986. Foster, D. "Mark of Oppression?" Racism and Psychology Reconsidered." Centre for African Studies, University of Cape Town, October 1992. Fredrickson, G. "White Silence." New Republic, 23 December, 1985, 29-30. Freer, Pamela. South Africa to 1990: Growing to Survive. Special Report no. 239. London: Economist Publications. 1986. Frelich, M. "The Meaning of 'Sociocultural.'" In The Concept and Dynamics of Culture, ed. B. Bernardi. The Hague: Mouton, 1977. Fugard, Athol . "Master Harold" and the Boys. New York: Knopf, 1984. Furnivall, J. S. Colonial Policy and Practice. London: Cambridge University Press, 1948. Gagiano, Jannie. "Regime Support in the Ruling Segment: A Study of Political Attitudes among White University Students in South Africa." Draft copy, University of Stellenbosch, Department of Political Studies, August 1989. Gann, Lewis H., and Peter Duignan. White Settlers in Tropical Africa. Baltimore: Penguin, 1962. Geertz, Clifford. Local Knowledge. New York: Basic Books, 1983. Gellner, Ernest. Plough, Sword, and Book. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988. Glazer, N., and D.P. Moynihan. Beyond the Melting Pot. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1963. Gordon, R. "The Field Researcher as a Deviant: A Namibian Case Study." In Truth Be in the Field, ed. P. Hugo. Pretoria: UNISA, 1990. Green, N., and R. Lascaris. Third World Destiny. Tafelberg: Human & Rousseau, 1988. Hammond-Tooke, W. D. The Tribes ofUmtata District. Ethnological Publications no. 35. Pretoria: Department of Native Affairs, Union of South Africa, n.d. Hare, R. M. "Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity in South Africa?" Philosophical Forum 18.2-3 (1986-87): 159-70. Harper, R. "Power, Dominance, and Nonverbal Behavior: An Overview." In Power, Dominance, and Nonverbal Behavior, ed. S. Ellyson and J. Dovidio. New York: Springer-Verlag, 1985. Hauck, D. "What Happens When US Companies Sell Their South African Operations?" South Africa Review Service. Investor Responsibility Research Center (IRRC), May 1987. Herman, Edward S., and N. Chomsky. Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media. New York: Pantheon, 1988. Hirschmann, David. "Changing Attitudes of Black South Africans toward the

[234]

Bibliography United States of America." Paper, Institute for Social and Economic Research, Rhodes University, Grahamstown, January 1987. Hugo, Pierre. "Perspectives and Constraints on Change in South Africa." Paper presented to an informal seminar in the northern Transvaal, March 1983. - - . "White Politics in South Africa: Fieldwork Planning and Practice." Working Document in Mrican Politics no. l. Pretoria: Department of Development Administration and Politics, University of South Africa, 1988. - - , ed. Truth Be in the Field. Pretoria: UNISA, 1990. Hunter, Monica. Reaction to Conquest. London: International Mrican Institute, 2d ed., 1961. Huntington, S. "Whatever Has Gone Wrong with Reform?" Die Suid Afrikaans (Winter 1986): 19-22. James, Wilmot, and Lieb Loots. "Class and Income Inequality, South Mrica 1980." Social Dynamics 11.1 (1974): 74-83. Rondebosch: University of Cape Town. Johnson, Walton. "Blacks Researching a White World." In Truth Be in the Field, ed. P. Hugo. Pretoria: UNISA, 1990a. - - . "Privatisation in South Mrica." TransAfrica Forum 7.2 (1990b): 45-53. - - . "DeKlerk's UDI" TransAfrica Forum 9 (Fall1992): 15-29. Jones, R. "Remarks Addressed to the Workshop on Rural Poverty and Development in Transkei." Proceedings of the workshop. University of Transkei, 2628 April1985. Kennedy, D. Islands ofWhite. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1987. Killian, Lewis M. White Southerners. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1985. Kluegel, James, and Eliot R. Smith. "Whites Beliefs about Blacks' Opportunity." American Sociological Review 47 (1982): 518-32. Kuper, L., and M. G. Smith. Pluralism in Africa. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1969. Laurence, Patrick. The Transkei: South Africa's Politics of Partition. Johannesburg: Ravan Press, 1976. Leons, M., and F. Rothstein. New Directions in Political Economy. Westport: Greenwood, 1979. Lewellen, T. C., "Political Anthropology." In Handbook of Political Behavior, ed. S. Long, vol. 3. New York: Plenium Press, 1981. Liebenberg, Ian. "Serious Oversights in Lijphart's Solution for SA." Review of Power-Sharing in South Africa by Arend Lijphart. Democracy in Action, April 1989, p. 19. Lipscomb, J. F. White Africans. London: Faber and Faber, 1955. Lodge, Tom. ''The Politics of Refusal." Leadership 5.1 (1986): 19-23. Loudon, J. B. White Farmers and Black Labour-Tenants. Cambridge: Mrican Studies Centre, 1970. Mcintosh, Peggy. "White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack." Peace and Freedom, July/August 1989. Macquarrie, J. W., ed. Reminiscences of Sir Walter Stanford. Vol. 2. Cape Town: Van Riebeek. Society, 1962. [235]

Bibliography Magubane, Bernard M. The Political Economy of Race and Class in South Africa. New York: Monthly Review Press, 1979. - - . "Social Inequality: The South African Case." In Social Inequality: Comparative and Developmental Approaches, ed. G. Berreman. San Francisco: Academic Press, 1981. Marcus, John T. ''The World Impact of the West: The Mystique and the Sense of Participation in History." In Myth and Mythmaking, ed. Henry A. Murray. Boston: Beacon Press, 1968. Maree, J., and P. J. de Vos. Underemployment, Poverty, and Migrant Labour in the Transkei and Ciskei. Johannesburg: South Africa Institute of Race Relations, 1975. Marquard, Leo. The People and Policies of South Africa. 3d ed. London: Oxford University Press, 1962. Master Plan ofGreater Umtata. Pretoria: Department of Bantu Administration and Development, 1976. Memmi, Albert. The Colonizer and the Colonized. Boston: Beacon, 1991. Meyer, Gabi, Hendrik W., van der Merwe, and Wanita Kawa. Conflict Accommodation: Towards Conceptual Clarification. Conflict and Peace Studies Series no. 1, Centre for Intergroup Studies, University of Cape Town, 1986. Miller, Peter. Domination and Power. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1987. Mills, C. W. The Power Elite. New York: Oxford University Press, 1956. Mitchell, C. Tribalism and the Plural Society. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1960. Moulder, J. Black into White and White into Black. University of Cape Town pamphlet, n.d. Muller, E. H. W. "Address on the Administration of the Transkeian Territories. 1924. Muller, N. D. "Population, Migration, and Unemployment in Transkei, 19701982." Institute of Management and Development Studies Paper 10, 1983. - - . "Aspects of the Political Economy of Drought and Water in Transkei." Institute of Management and Development Studies Paper 13, 1984a. - - . "The Political Economy of Poverty and Rural Development Action in Transkei." Institute of Management and Development Studies Paper 15, 1984b. - - . "The Profile of Poverty in Transkei." In Rural Poverty and Development Strategies in Transkei, ed. N. Muller. Umtata: University ofTranskei, 1985a. - - , ed. "Transkei Profile.": Institute for Management and Development Studies Paper 1, 1985b Murphree, Marshall W. "Sociology and the Study of Race: Contemporary Perspectives for Southern Africa." Social Dynamics 1.2 (1975): 111-24. - - . "Attitudinal Factors in White Adjustment to Socio-political Change in Africa." Unpublished paper, 1983. Myrdal, Gunnar. An American Dilemma. New York: Harper & Row, 1962. Nandy, Ashis. The Intimate Enemy. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1983. "The National Party: Challenged by a Changed Support Base." Africa Insight 17.3 (1987): 188-91. [236]

Bibliography Nattross, Jill. "The Migrant Labour System and South Africa's Economic Development." South African Journal of Economics 44.1 (1976). "Negotiating Constitutional Liberty." South African Foundation Review, July 1990. Nienwoudt, J. M., and C. Plug. "South African Ethnic Attitudes: 1973-1978." journal of Social Psychology 121 (December 1983): 163-71. Nye, William P. ''The Emergent Idea of Race: A Civilization-Analytic Approach to Race and Racism in the United States." Theory and Society 5 (1978): 295-344. Omark, D., F. Strayer, and D. Freedman, eds. Dominance Relations. New York: Garland STPM, 1980. Orum, Anthony. Sociological Theory and Political Sociology: Introduction to Political Sociology. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice- Hall, 1983. Pakendorf, H. "The National Party: Challenged by a Changed Support Base." Africa Insight 17.3 (1987). Patterson, M. "Social Influence and Nonverbal Exchange." In Power, Dominance, and Nonverbal Behavior, ed. S. Ellyson and J. Dovidio. New York: SpringerVerlag, 1985. Peires, J. B. The House ofPhalo. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981. Pettigrew, Thomas F. Racially Separate or Together? New York: McGraw-Hill, 1971. Pillay, Pundy. "The Economic and Political Implications of Privatisation in South Africa." Paper presented to the Center for African Studies, University of Cape Town, n.d. Pose!, Deborah. "Rethinking the 'Race-Class Debate' in South African Historiography." Social Dynamics 9.1 (1983): 50-66. --."Structure and Experience in the Making of Apartheid." History workshop, University of Witwatersrand, February 1990. "Post-Apartheid South Africa: The Protection of Minority and Group Rights." Memorandum for Federated Chamber of Industries, August 1986. Potgieter, H. L. The Transkei and Its Places. Umtata: Transkei Publications, 1960. Poulantzas, Nicos A. State, Power, Socialism. London: Verso, 1978. Pred, Allan Richard. Lost Words and Lost Worlds: Modernity and the Language of Everyday Life in Late Nineteenth Century Stockholm. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Preston-Whyte, Eleanor. "Race Attitudes and Behaviour: The Case of Domestic Employment on White South African Homes." African Studies 35.2 (1976): 7189. Prewitt, Kenneth, and A. Stone. The Ruling Elites: Elite Theory, Power, and American Democracy. New York: Harper & Row, 1973. Puzzo, Dante A. "Racism and the Western Tradition." Journal of the History of Ideas 25 (October-December 1964): 579-86. Race Relations Survey. Annual. Johannesburg: South African Institute of Race Relations, various years. Rebusoajoang. "Education and Social Control in South Africa." African Affairs 78 (311) (1979). [237]

Bibliography Rhoodie, N. J., and W. L. du P. le Roux. "Whites' Attitudes towards the Desegregation of Public Amenities in Randburg: A Case Study." South Africa Journal of Sociology 16.2 (1985): 49-58. Rogers, Cyril, and C. Frantz. Racial Themes in Southern Rhodesia. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962. Saunders, C. "The Annexation of the Transkeian Territories, 1872-1895." Diss., Oxford University, 1972. - - . "The Birth of the Transkei," paper delivered at conference on the history of the Transkei and Ciskei, Grahamstown, Feb. 5-7, 1973a. - - . "The Transkei Rebellion of 1880-81: A Case Study ofTranskeian Resistance to White Control," paper delivered at University of Botswana, Lesotho, and Swaziland History Conference, Gaberone, 1973b. - - . Historical Dictionary of South Africa. Metuchen, N.J.: Scarecrow, 1983. Saunders, C., and R. Derricourt. Beyond the Cape Frontier: Studies in the History of the Transkei and Ciskei. London: Longman, 1974. Schermerhorn, R. A. Comparative Ethnic Relations. New York: Random House, 1970. Schlemmer, Lawrence. "Racial Attitudes in Southern Africa: The Contributions of Culture, Economic Interests and History." In Cooperation and Conflict in Southern Africa, ed. Timothy Shaw and Kenneth Heard. Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1976. - - . "Theories of the Plural Society and Change in South Africa." Social Dynamics 3.1 (1977): 3-16. --."White Voters and Change in South Africa: Constraints and Opportunities." Optima 27.4 (1978): 63-83. Selznick, P. 1VA and the Grassroots. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1949. Sharp, John. "Can We Study Ethnicity? A Critique of Fields of Study in South African Anthropology." Social Dynamics 6.1 (1980): 1-16. Simkins, C. "Agricultural Production in the Reserves of South Africa, 1918-1969." journal of Southern African Studies 7.2 (1981): 256-83. Sinclair, M. "The Effect of Economic Growth on Social and Political Change in South Africa." South Africa Review Service. Investor Responsibility Research Center (IRRC), May 1986. Singh, Mala. "Transforming the South African Universities: The Contradictions of Democratisation." Paper prepared for the Southern African Research Program, Yale University, April199l. Sklar, R. "The Nature of Class Domination in Africa." In African Politics and Problems of Development, ed. R. Sklar and C. Whitaker. Boulder, Colo.: Lynne Rienner, 1991. Smith, A. "The Hotnot Syndrome: Myth-making in South African School Textbooks." Social Dynamics 9.2 (1983). Smith, M. G. "On Segmentary Linages." journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 86 (1956), pp. 39-80. South Africa 1974: Official Yearbook of the Republic of South Africa. Johannesburg: South African Department of Information, 1973. [238]

Bibliography Southall, Roger. "The Beneficiaries ofTranskei 'Independence.'" Journal of Modern African Studies 15 (1977): 1-23. - - . South Africa's Transkei. New York: Monthly Review Press, 1983. Souvenir Brochure Issued on the Occasion of Umtata's Fiftieth Year as a Local Authority. Umtata: Municipality of Umtata, 1932. Srinivas, M. N. "The Dominant Caste in Rampura." American Anthropologist 61 (1959): 1-16. Steele, Shelby. The Content of Our Character: A New Vision of Race in America. New York: St. Martin's, 1990. Stokes, Randall G. "Afrikaner Calvinism and Economic Action: The Weberian Thesis in South Africa." American journal of Sociology 81.1 (1975): 62-81. Stoler, Ann Laura. "Rethinking Colonial Categories: European Communities and the Boundaries of Rule." Comparative Studies-Sociology and History 31.1 (1989): 134-61. Stone, John. Colonist or Uitlander? Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973. Terreblanche, S. J. "Corruption and the National Party." IDASA lecture, University of Cape Town, 12 April1989. Thoenes, P. The Elite in the Welfare State. New York: Free Press, 1966. Thomas, Wolfgang. Labour Perspectives on South Africa: Proceedings of a Workshop on Organized Labour in South African Society. Cape Town: D. Philip, 1974. - - . "Socio-economic Development in Transkei in the Context of Southern Africa's Urban-rural Nexus: Macro and Micro Perspectives." Institute of Management and Development Studies, fact paper no. 3, Umtata, 1982. Thompson, Leonard. The Political Mythology of Apartheid. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985. Torgovnick, Marianna. Gone Primitive: Savage Intellects, Modern Lives. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990. The Transkei-A Bantu Homeland. Fort Hare: Fort Hare University Press, n.d. Transkei Development Corporation Limited: Fact Sheet. Port Elizabeth: E. H. Walton, n.d. Transkei Economic Revue. Pretoria: Bureau for Economic Research re: Bantu Development (BENBO), 1975. "Transkei National Development Framework." Unpublished draft. Department of Bantu Administration and Development, 1972. Transkei Official Tourist Guide. N.d. UNESCO. Research on Race Relations. Paris, 1966. Ungar, S. "The Authoritarian Center." New Republic 1 (October 1990): 23-25. ''The Unrest Is Far from Over." South African Foundation Review, October 1990. "Urban Growth in South Africa 1936-2000: A Demographic Overview." Comp. S. P. Cilliers and C. J. Groenewald. Occasional Paper no. 5, Research Unit for Sociology Development, University of Stellenbosch, July 1982. Valdes, J. G. "A Well-Known Story: The Chicago Boys in Chile." Paper presented to the Conference on Overseas Education and International Development, sponsored by the Institute for International Education and the Educational Testing Service, Princeton, N.J., 27-28 May 1991. [239]

Bibliography van der Horst, Sheila. Native Labour in South Africa. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1942. VanderZanden, J. W. "The Ideology of White Supremacy." journal of the History of Ideas 20 (1959): 385-402. van Wyk, Koos. "Foreign Policy Orientations of the PW Botha Regime." Paper presented to the 33rd Meeting of the Mrican Studies Association, 1987. - - . "State Elites and South Mrica's International Isolation: A Longitudinal Comparison of Perception." Politikon 15.1 (1988): 63-89. - - . "Some elite perceptions and South Mrica's Bilateral Relations: A Comparison of Two Surveys." Politikon 16.2 (1989): 75-85. van Zyl, J. C., "Post Apartheid South Mrica." Memorandum for Federated Chamber of Industries, August 1986. Van Zyl Slabbert, F. "Escalation of the Conflict in South Africa." Paper for conference held by Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, 23-24 October 1986. --.''The Dynamics of Reform and Revolt in Current South Mrica." Lecture one: "From Apartheid to Reform: The Ideological Preparation for the Total Onslaught." Institute for Democratic Alternative for South Mrica. Tanner Lectures, Brasenose College, Oxford, October-November 1987. Vermeersch, E. "An Analysis of the Concept of Culture." In The Concept and Dynamics of Culture, ed. B. Bernardi. The Hague: Mouton, 1977. Wartenberg, Thomas E. The Forms of Power: From Domination to Transformation. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1990. Webster, Eddie. "Competing Paradigms-Towards a Critical Sociology in Southern Mrica." Social Dynamics 11.1 (1985): 44-48. Weinrich, A. K. H. Black and White Elites in Rural Rhodesia. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1973. Wellman, David T. Portraits ofWhite Racism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977. Welsh, David. ''The Political Economy of Mrikaner Nationalism." In South Africa: Economic Growth and Political Change, ed. Adrian Leftwich. New York: St. Martin's, 1974. - - . "The Nature of Racial Conflict in South Africa." Social Dynamics 4.1 (1978): 29-39. Wilson, F. Migrant Labour in South Africa. Johannesburg: South African Council of Churches, 1972. Wilson, Monica. ''The Early History ofTranskei and Ciskei." African Studies 18.4 (1959): 167-79. Wilson, M., and L. Thompson, The Oxford History of South Africa. Oxford: Clarendon, 1969. - - . "The Growth of Peasant Communities." In The Oxford History of South Africa: Part II. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975. Wilson, W. J. The Declining Significance of Race. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978.

[240]

Index

advisory council: political dominance of, in municipal government ofUmtata, 108-36 affirmative action: dominant group control of civil service in U mtata, 132; Mandela on, 221; opposition to, in new South Africa, 205-6 African National Congress (AN C): dialogue with dominant group members before unbanning of, 182; dominant elite's criticism of mass action, 201; draft of economic policy, 211-12; on need for elections, 180n; promotion of national identity, 221; proposed Bill of Rights, 222; unbanning of, and restoration of dominant elite's centrality in national political debate, 186 African Ratepayers Association, 118, 119, 120, 123 Afrikaners: domination of South African state apparatus, 197; interpretation of class-related conflicts as ethnic problems, 219; interviews with, in Umtata, 70-76, working-class resistance to reforms of dominant elite, 214-18 Afrikaner-Weerstandsbeweging (AWB), 187n agriculture: white settlement ofTranskei, 24-25; working-class whites and land tenure in new South Africa, 215 Anglican Church, 80 apartheid: assumption of irreconcilable racial cultures, 67 -68; as culture and ideology, 156-57; dismantling of, in Umtata, viii-x, 22, 87-102, 176; ideology of, and ethnicity in South Africa, 74n, 155-56;

implementation of, in Umtata, 35-45; inconsistency between practice of, and ethical principles, 170-72; myths underlying, 78; reforms ofBotha government, 8; relations between English and Afrikaners, 75-76; separate development and social order in U mtata, 48-49; social structure and individual values, vii-viii; socioeconomic and demographic pressures to dismantle, 3-4 Auruch, Kevin, 225 Azanian People's Organization (AZAPO), 181n Bantu Authorities Act (1951), 30n Bantu Investment Corporation (BIC), 140 Baptist Church, 80 Barnett, Steve, 22n Barth, F., 16 Basuto, 26n Belgian Congo, 85 Benjamin, Jessica, 158, 161 Biko, Steve, 56n Bill of Rights, 222 Black, Peter W., 225 Black Consciousness Movement, 7 Black Equity Participation, 220 blacks, use of term, 3 Boerekommandos, 187n Boer War, 157 Bophuthatswana, 12 Boraine, Alex, 182 Botha, P. W., 8, 185, 194 Bottomore, T. B., 13 Bretenbach, Breyten, 182

[241]

Index Brink, Andre, 182 Broederbond, 71n, 199 Buthelezi, Mangosuthu, 60: on constitution and political change process, 180n; dominant elite and political change process, 195; refusal to accept independence until release of Mandela, 56n; refusal to participate in National Forum, 193 Cape Colony, and annexation ofTranskei, 27 Cape Municipal Ordinance of 1974, 32-33 Cape Town, "open cities" policy of, 190 Cape-Xhosa war of 1877-78, 26 churches, segregation of, in Transkei, 80. See also Dutch Reformed Church Civil Cooperation Bureau (CCB), 187n Ciskei, white settlement of, 24, 25 citizenship, of whites in Transkei after independence,53,54,61-62 civic associations, x; multiracial after independence in Umtata, 92-93 civilization, as justification for European domination, 159 civil service, and continuity of white elite in municipal government of U mtata, 106-7, 129-33, 135 class: dominant groups and politics after independence in Transkei, 117-36; embourgoisement of middle-class Africans, ix; ethnicity and configuration of corporate groups in social structure, 136; as instrument of subordination in South Africa, 18-19; and privatization of schooling, 97 -98; racial desegregation and middle-class Africans, 93; social segmentation and restratification by, in new South Africa, 208-26; and strategy of dominant elite in South Africa, 179-80. See also middle class; working class coalitions: multiracial political, after independence in Transkei, 117-36 cognitive dissonance, of apartheid and ethical principles, 170-72 Cohen, Abner, 15, 104 colonialism, and justifications of white domination and control, 25-26 conflict, political, in municipal government ofUmtata, 107 Conservative Party (CP), 181-82, 183, 21618 constitution, and political reform process in new South Africa, 180-81 cooperation: political, in municipal government ofUmtata, 107; subordinate groups and success of dominant group, 108

[242]

Council for Co-ordination of Local Government Affairs, 176 Crais, C., 25 Crapanzano, Vincent, 14-15,77, 170, 173 culture: and assumptions of apartheid, 6768; definition of, 6-7; development of new alternative among South African blacks, 183-84; ethnicity as social instrument, 97; ideology and social structure, 156; as variable in social conflict, 225 dating, interracial, and social control, 94 decentralization, as industrial policy, 145 De Klerk, F. W.: criticism of subordinate group rivals, 201; dominant elite and process of political change, 176-78, 180-81, 185-87, 191; policy of negotiation, 19496; political relationship with Mandela, 212; praise of, for political reforms, 2; promise to protect white land titles, 215 democracy: dominant elite and redefinition of principal tenets of, 199-200; as ethic of anti-elitism in new South Africa, 221 Democratic Party, 183, 186, 194, 198 demographic pressures to dismantle apartheid, 3 dependency theories, of subordinate group behavior, 135n desegregation. See segregation dominance: analyses of cultures of, 7-8; economic, in Transkei, 137-54; historical roots of, in Transkei, 23-47; ideological, in Transkei, 155-74; implications of study of U mtata for South Africa's culture of, 175-226; interviews as portraits of, in U mtata, 48-76; overview of culture of, in South Africa, 19-22; political aspects of, in Umtata, 103-36; social aspects of, in U mtata, 77 -102; and theories of group behavior, 4-6, 8-10 du Preez, Peter, 7-8, 160-61 Durkheim, Emile, 19n Dutch Reformed Church, 71, 75, 80, 157n, 191 economic life: continued white dominance of, in Transkei after independence, 13754; dominant elite's plans for privatization in South Africa, 206-8; influence of, on dominant elite's change management efforts in South Africa, 223-24; and international sanctions against South Africa, 185; policy of separate development in Umtata, 61; pressure to dismantle apartheid, 3; role of, in management of social change, 13-15; white fears oflosing

Index power after Transkei independence, 8184 education: continuation of white dominance of, after Transkei independence, 96-98; dominant elite in South Africa and preferential access to, 202; and ideological dominance, 161, 166; of subordinate group leaders as means of social control in South Africa, 208-10; twelve-year program of, in South Africa, 6ln. See also universities Eiselen, Werner, 67 elites: civil service and white domination in municipal administration ofUmtata, 1067; and cultures of dominance, 20-22; definition of, 10; interdependent relationship between dominant and subordinate groups, 103-5; and politics after Transkei independence, 117-36; social segmentation and restratification, 15, 17-19; as unit of analysis. See also dominance; ideology; social structure emigration: from Umtata and character of white institutions, 95-96; of white professionals from South Africa, 4, 183 employment: expatriates and civil service in Umtata, 133; segregation of, in Umtata, 80. See also civil service; wages Ervin, Sam, 78 ethnicity: interpretation of class-based conflict as ethnic conflict, 219; as social instrument, 97; as unit of analysis, 9, 13-14 ethnocentrism, in European worldview, 12 Evans-Pritchard, E. E., 15-16 fear: role of, in maintaining culture of dominance, 86-87; white concern for physical safety after Transkei independence, 8487; working-class Afrikaners and resistance to reform, 217 federalism, and political norms of dominant elite, 198 Foster, D., 16-17n Foucault, Michel, 156 Fugard, ~Athol , 73n Furnival, J. S., 138 Gangelizwe, Chief, 33-34 Geertz, Clifford, 163-64 Gellner, Ernest, 6 gender, and social segmentation and restratification, 16n. See also women Glazer, Nathan, 5 Gluckman, Max, 15n Goodenough, Ward, 6 government: domination of South African

state apparatus by Afrikaners, 197; transformation ofUmtata's municipal after independence, 104, 105-36. See also civil service; politics Greater Soweto Accord of 1990, 191 Group Areas Act: business districts and repeal of, 203-4; dominant group and desegregation, 190; and implementation of apartheid laws in Umtata, 35; interracial couples and desegregation, 188-89; as mechanism of"influx control," 78; and zoning provisions in U mtata, 144 Harper, R., 10 Helsinki Accords (1975), 200 Hendrickse, Allan, 203 Herkroodt Commission, 37-38 Hoernle, R. F. A., 67 homelands: independence of, as fictitious, 12n; race relations and policy of separate development, 30-31 hospitals, segregation of, before and after Transkei independence, 79, 92, 98-99 housing: advisory board and allocation of, 112; continuation of discrimination after independence,99-100, 133 Hugo, Pierre, 85, 217n Hunter, Monica, 51, 52, 58n identity: African National Congress and promotion of national, 221; individual and collective, in apartheid society, 173; redefinition of white in South Africa, ix ideology: conformity of, in South Africa, 76n; continuation of white dominance after independence, 155-74; media and dominant elite and, 20ln Immorality Act: interracial marriage andrepealoL94,95, 192 India, and myths justifYing caste system, 2 industry: economic policy in Transkei, 14042; policy of decentralization of, 145 Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP), 195 Institute for Democratic Alternatives in South Africa (IDASA), 182, 189 interpersonal relationships, political dominancein, 127 Kelly, W. H., 6 Kennedy, D., 7, 87n Kenya, 7, 85, 118 Khoi, 24 Klaaste, Aggrey, 220 Kluckhohn, Clyde, 6 KwaZulu, 56n

[243]

Index labor: development of system of migrant, 29; recruitment and exploitation of Mrican, 57; regional bureaus and migrant, 138-39 Land Acts: dominant groups and repeal of, 192, 203; implementation of, and history ofTranskei, 29; working-class whites and resistance to repeal of, 215 law, administration of, and white dominance, 100-102 Lesotho, 26n, 27 Mcintosh, Peggy, 225 Mafikeng, 12 Mandela, Nelson: on affirmative action, 221; dominant elite and political change process, 196; on group rights and constitution, 222; imprisonment of, 56n, 185; political relationship with De Klerk, 212; release of, as symbol of change in South Africa, ix, 186; on values and political change process in South Mrica, 178 marriage, interracial, and social control in South Mrica, 94-95, 188 Mass Democratic Movement (MDM), 18485 Matanzima, Kaiser, 62 Mau Mau uprising, 85 mayor, and municipal politics and race in Umtata, 126, 129, 134 media, and dissemination of ideology of dominant elite, 201n Methodist Church, 80 Michels, Robert, 13n middle class: Mrican in U mtata, 118-19; embourgeoisment of Mrican, ix. See also class Miller, Peter, 156 Mills, C. W., 104 missionaries, in Transkei, 28, 34 Mixed Marriages Act, 94, 95, 192 Mkwayi, Jabulani, 104 Mosca, Gaetano, 13n Moynihan, Daniel P., 5 Municipal Bantu Administration Department, 110 Murphree, Marshall, 160 Myrdal, Gunnar, 5, 162, 170 myths: cultural ideology of apartheid, 64, 157, 191; and culture of dominance in South Mrica, 77 -78; justifications of white dominance in South Mrica, 2, 4950, 66; and segregation in U.S., 50n Nandy, Ashis, 5-6

[244]

Natal University, 210 National Education Crisis Committee (NECC), 183-84 National Party: Mrikaners and domination of state apparatus, 197; economic policy of separate development in Transkei, 36; implementation of policy of apartheid, 30; losses in 1989 elections, 183; shift from policy oflaw and order to policy of negotiation, 187n, 194-96. See also De Klerk, F. W. Native (Urban) Areas Acts of 1923 and 1945, 29 Native Land and Trust Act of 1936, 29 Native Laws Amendment Act, 138 Ngangelizwe Advisory Board, 108-36 Non-European Affairs Committee, 113-14 "open cities" policy, 190 Orde Boerevolk, 179 other: colonialism and discourse of, 25, 26n Pan Mricanist Congress (PAC), 186, 200 Pareto, Vilfred, 13n Pass Laws: apartheid in Umtata, 78, 112; dominant elite and reforms in new South Mrica, 202; and social control after repeal of apartheid, 100 pluralism, as theme of studies of South Mrica, 13-14 police, 112 politics: and ideological dominance, 165-66; in interdependent relationship between dominant and subordinate groups, 103-5; and municipal government ofUmtata after independence, 105-36; and mythology of apartheid, 50. See also civil service; government Population Registration Acts, 192 Poulantzas, Nicos, 19n power, definition of, 9, 19n Pred, A. R., 19 prisons, 90n privatization: and continuation of white social dominance after independence in Transkei, 96-98; dominant elite and economics in new South Mrica, 206-8 Progressive Federal Party, 192 propaganda, government, and preservation of old patterns of dominance, 199 race: as demarcation of status groups in Umtata, 48-49; dominant groups and politics after independence, 117-36;economic stratification among lines of, 148; and evo-

Index lution of social structure in U mtata, ix; history of relations in Transkei, 28-33; and ideological adaptation in Umtata compared to South Africa, 167-70 Reily, Gavin, 194 resistance, culture of, and dominant elite in new South Africa, 224 Rhodesia, 7, 118, 187n right-wing organizations, and white working-class resistance to reforms in new South Africa, 179, 187n, 218 Roman Catholic Church, 80 San,24 Saunders, C., 26, 27 Schermerhorn, R. A., 9 Schlemmer, Lawrence, 220 segregation: and assumptions about dominance in white South African world view, 50; continuation of, after Transkei independence, 89-90; extent of, in U mtata in 1970s, 78-80; and ideology of white superiority in South Africa, 160, 165 Separate Amenities Act, 192 Sharp, John, 50 shipwrecks, and European arrival in Transkei, 23 Smith, Ian, 187n Smith, M.G., 16, 138 social mobility, subordinate and dominant group criteria for, 136 social structure: advisory boards and municipal government, 109-16; and dismantling of apartheid in U mtata after independence, 87-102; ethnicity and configuration of corporate groups and, 136; and individual values, vii-viii; politics and link between social change and social control, 104; race and evolution of, in Umtata, ix; segmentation and restratification in, 15-19 Solidarity Party, 179 South Africa: economic policy of separate development in Transkei, 137-54; implications of U mtata study for national culture of dominance, 21, 175-226 South African Bantu Trust, 29, 137, 152-53 Soweto rebellions (1976), 85 sports, desegregation of, 90-92 status, definition of, 9 Steele, Shelby, 5 Sullivan Principles, 210 Supreme Court, proposed, 203 Sutton, Bill, 192

taxation, as economic policy in Umtata, 150-52 Thompson, Leonard, 50, 156-57 Thornhill report, 175 Torgovnick, Marianna, 158 Town Council, ofUmtata, 105-36 traders, and African-white relations in Transkei, 51-52, 57-58 Transkei: history of white settlement of, 2333; and South African law, lOOn. See also Umtata Transkeian rebellion of 1880-81, 26-27, 34-35 Transkei Development Corporation (TDC), 137, 142-43, 145 Transkei National Independence Party (TNIP), 54 Transkei Territories Civic Association (TTCA), 31-32, 36-37, 40-41, 60 Transkei White Citizens Association (TWCA), 40-43 Transvaal Separatists, 179 Tutu, Desmond, 180n, 20ln Tylor, Edward B., 6 Umtata (Transkei): description of, 10-13; history of, 33-45; Ngangelizwe and African subordination in, 46-47; race as demarcation of status groups, 48-49; relevance of study of, for South Africa, 21, 175-226 United Democratic Front (UDF), 184 United States: character of racism in, ln; interracial interaction in South, 52; mythology of segregation, SOn universities: dominant groups in, and social control process in South Africa, 209-10 University of Cape Town, 209 University of Witwatersrand, 209-10 Upfront (journal), 222n Valdes, Juan Gabriel, 20 values: apartheid and cognitive dissonance, 170-72; Mandela on political change process in South Africa, 178; social structure and individual, vii-viii van der Merwe, Stoffel, 193 van Wyk, Koos, 14n Van Zyl Siabbert, F., 176-77, 180n, 182 Verwoerd, Hendrik, 2, 157, 160 violence: anti-white reaction and incidents of, in Transkei, 81; white right-wing organizations and, 187n; working-class whites and repeal of Land Acts, 215

[245]

Index voting, and eligibility for registration in Umtata, 120 wages: advisory board and concern about, in Mrican community, 114-15; gap between black and white incomes in South Mrica, 213n. See also civil service; employment ward system, in municipal politics ofUmtata, 120, 135 Wild Coast, 61 Wilson, W. J., 21-22 women, and anti-apartheid movement, 189. See also gender working class, and resistance to incremental

[246]

reforms of dominant elite in South Mrica, 214-18 worldview: European ethnocentric, 1-2; and segregation and assumptions about dominance, 50 Xaba, 159 Xhosa, white settlement in Transkei, 23, 24 Xhosa Development Corporation (XDC), 60, 141-42 zoning: contention between government and dominant elite in Umtata, 144-45; and race in Umtata, 40

Anthropology of Contemporary Issues A SERIES EDITED BY

ROGER SANJEK

Chinatown No More: Taiwan Immigrants in Contemporary New York BY HSIANG-SHUI CHEN

Farm Work and Fieldwork: American Agriculture in Anthropological Perspective EDITED BY MICHAEL CHIBNIK

The Varieties of Ethnic Experience: Kinship, Class, and Gender among California Italian-Americans BY MICAELA DI LEONARDO

Lord, I'm Coming Home: Everyday Aesthetics in Tidewater, North Carolina BY JOHN FORREST

Chinese Working-Class Lives: Getting By in Taiwan BY HILL GATES

Accomnwdation without Assimilation: Sikh Immigrants in an American High School BY MARGARET A. GIBSON

Prayingfor justice: Faith, Order, and Community in an American Town BY CAROL J. GREENHOUSE

Distant Companions: Servants and Employers in Zambia, Igoo-Ig8s BY KAREN TRANBERG HANSEN

R-.:: Spiritist as Needed: A Study ofa Puerto Rican Community Mental Health Resource BY ALAN HARWOOD

Dismantling Apartheid: A South African Town in Transition BY WALTON

R. JOHNSON

Caribbean New York: Black Immigrants and the Politics of Race BY PHILIP KASINITZ

The Solitude of Collectivism: Romanian Villagers to the Revolution and Beyond BY DAVID A. KIDECKEL

Nuclear Summer: The Clash of Communities at the Seneca \Vomen's Peace Encampment BY LOUISE KRASNIEWICZ

Between Two

World~:

Ethnographic Essays on American Jewry

EDITED BY JACK KUGELMASS

American Odyssey: Haitians in New York City BY MICHEL

S. LAGUERRE

From Working Daughters to Working Mothers: Immigrant Women in a New England Industrial Community BY LOUISE LAMPHERE

Sunbelt Working Mothers: Reconciling Family and Factory BY LOUISE LAMPHERE, PATRICIA ZAVELLA, AND FELIPE GONZALES, WITH PETER B. EVANS C reativitylAnthropology EDITED BY SMADAR LAVIE, KIRIN Cities, Classes, and the Social Order

NARAYAN, AND RENATO ROSALDO

BY ANTHONY LEEDS. EDITED BY ROGER SANJEK

Lesbian Mothers: Accounts of Gender in American Culture BY ELLEN LEWIN

Civilized Women: Gender and Prestige in Southeastern Liberia BY MARY H. MORAN

Blood, Sweat, and Mahjong: Family and Enterprise in an Overseas Chinese Community BY ELLEN 0XFELD

The Magic City: Unemployment in a Working-Class Community BY GREGORY PAPPAS

State and Family in Singapore: Restructuring an Industrial Society BY JANET W. SALAFF

Uneasy Endings: Daily Life in an American Nursing Home BY RENEE RosE SHIELD

Children of Circumstances: Israeli Emigrants in New York BY MOSHE SHOKEID

History and Power in the Study of Law: New Directions in Legal Anthropology EDITED BY JUNE STARR AND JANE F. COLLIER

"Getting Paid": Youth Crime and Work in the Inner City BY MERCER L. SULLIVAN

City of Green Benches: Growing Old in a New Downtown BY MARIA D. VESPERI Renunciation and Reformulation: A Study of Conversion in an American Sect BY HARRIET WHITEHEAD

Upscaling Downtown: Stalled Gentrification in"Washington, D.C. BY BRETT WILLIAMS

Women's Work and Chicano Families: Cannery \Vorkers of the Santa Clara Valley BY PATRICIA ZAVELLA

,!7IA8A1-ejjjca!