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Contemporary South Africa has been described as ‘the most important experiment in democracy since the end of the Second World War’ (Smith, 1996:31). The consolidation of this democracy depends on the capacity of the post-apartheid state to meet human needs. This book presents an argument for shifting resources from the military towards this goal. Throughout Africa, the military has been a major obstacle to achieving democracy, and war has been instrumental in the continent’s development crisis. It has meant death and injury for millions, absorbed vast amounts of national resources, caused ecological damage, destroyed infrastructure and social organisation, distorted production, and created millions of displaced people and refugees. Even when there has been victory in liberation struggles against colonial rule, or cease-fires after civil wars, real peace has often been short-lived and democratic government has not been realised. Frequently, the reason for this is the failure to demilitarise. The successful transition to peace and democracy in South Africa, as elsewhere, depends on a process of demilitarisation that involves shifting power and resources away from armed formations and military elites. South Africa is among some 40 countries that have changed from authoritarian to democratic rule over the past twenty years. In this political transition, restructuring the military is crucial. Huntington points out that ‘In almost all cases, the new democratic regimes have reduced the size of their military forces and attempted to instil in them a greater sense of military professionalism. By and large, the new democracies have been reasonably successful in establishing civilian control, in orienting their militaries towards professionalism, in reducing military power, in constricting military roles and in establishing patterns of civil-military relationships that resemble those in established democracies’ (Huntington, 1993:36). It is debatable whether South Africa has achieved this. The shift from separate to sustainable development in South Africa depends partly on how the new government deals with the military resources it has inherited from the apartheid era. These resources are extensive: the Government of National Unity (GNU) inherited the most powerful army in sub-Saharan Africa, with sophisticated weaponry, infrastructure and equipment, and an extensive arms manufacturing capability. South Africa became highly militarised during the period 1976-90 as resources were mobilised for war at political, economic and ideological levels (Cock & Nathan, 1989). However, a process of demilitarisation has been under way in South Africa for some time. This is evident in the closure of several military bases, in dramatic reductions in defence expenditure, in significant conversion initiatives in the defence industry, in the abolition of conscription, and in the downsizing of the military to conform to notions of a ‘core’ force. Thousands of South African National Defence Force (SANDF) personnel have been retrenched, retired or transferred in line with rationalisation programmes undertaken by the Department of Defence. The merger of eight different armed forces into the new SANDF involved significant moves towards the creation of a more representative structure. Demilitarisation is also indicated by the 1989 decision to dismantle the nuclear weapons industry and the 1997 ban on the use, production and trade in anti-personnel land-mines. Since 1994, attempts have been made to secure the subordination of the military to civilian control. These include the establishment of a Defence Secretariat and the re-examination of the mission, roles and tasks of the SANDF through the White Paper on Defence (1996) and the Defence Review. The new policy framework is a significant break from the past. Laurie Nathan argues that the White Paper on Defence (1996), which sets the policy framework for the Defence Review, is ‘an agenda for demilitarisation’. However, it is arguable that the Defence Review has interpreted the Defence White Paper as an agenda for rearmament. The emphasis is on the creation of a modern, technologically advanced ‘core’ force. Furthermore, while prioritising the function of territorial defence, the new policy does not strictly limit the defence force to this and situations of national emergency. The provision in the Constitution for the deployment of the SANDF ‘for service in support of any department of state for the purpose of socio-economic upliftment’ [my emphasis] is problematic. The task of socio-economic upliftment belongs to other state agencies in co-operation with civilian society. Deploying soldiers in this role is reminiscent of the ‘winning hearts and minds’ programmes of the Total Strategy doctrine of the apartheid army, the South African Defence Force (SADF). Increasing concern is voiced at the deployment of the SANDF in supporting the police in essentially political tasks. Internal deployment peaked at 20500 during the April 1994 elections. Gavin Cawthra points out that ‘this was a far more extensive operation than at any time during the State of Emergency and the SANDF claims that more troops were deployed internally at this stage than during the Angolan war’ (Cawthra, 1995:3). Although the numbers have declined, thousands of SANDF soldiers are still deployed on a daily basis in policing tasks. SANDF deployment in both roles – policing and development – is being used to legitimise military and defence expenditure. While Nathan argues that the ‘White Paper states explicitly that the new approach to security does not imply an expanded role for the armed forces’, Seegers points out that ‘the SANDF has warmed to civilianised and developmentalist notions of its tasks’ (Seegers, 1996:320). Most importantly, the secondary functions of the SANDF do not require a technologically advanced army. The SANDF has now completed the training of two battalions for peace-keeping operations. It is conceivable that the SANDF will playa role in regional crises, such as those in Lesotho and in the Great Lakes Region. However, participation in peace-keeping operations requires further public debate within a broad policy framework of demilitarisation. The process of demilitarisation initiated in South Africa is complex and uneven, and has had some contradictory consequences. For instance, the proliferation of small arms is partly the outcome of incomplete disarmament and demobilisation in post-conflict peace building. This has increased the supply of guns and maverick banditry throughout the region and represents a form of privatised militarisation. Besides the private-public tension, there is a tension between the local and the global: the increasing emphasis on arms exports from South Africa is, to some extent, a consequence of the reduction in domestic defence procurement. The relation between development, defence and security cannot be considered in purely narrow, national terms. In addition, the ideology of militarism, which views violence as a legitimate solution to conflict and problems, remains intact. Demilitarisation needs to go beyond restructuring state institutions and recast social relations in a much broader project of social transformation. As the 1996 National Crime Prevention Strategy document asserts, ‘we need to weave a new social fabric, robust enough to withstand the stresses of rapid change in a new-born society.’ One has to acknowledge that the argument for demilitarisation rests on potential long-term benefits. In the short term it may produce additional costs; examples include the cost of paying and retraining demobilised soldiers, assisting arms industries in transition, and the environmental clean-up of former military bases. These may be costly enterprises, but the argument is that the costs involved in demilitarisation – in the transfer of resources for social and economic development – will help to tackle the real threats to collective security: environmental deterioration, poverty and social instability. There is much agreement on which the demilitarisation debate can build. In some ways there is a converging of interests between the current military’s commitment to rationalisation and the demilitarisation movement’s conversion agenda. Military leaders stress that ‘downsizing and reshaping our defence force will save considerable funds’ (Deputy Minister Kasrils, cited in Sunday Independent, 1 December 1996). Both Kasrils and the White Paper on Defence clearly prioritise ‘the daunting task of addressing poverty and the socio-economic inequalities resulting from the system of apartheid’. The argument for further demilitarisation is based on the negative impact of the military in terms of its direct destructive effects and the diversion of resources, skills and technology which could be employed in economic and social development. There is a need to move beyond the narrow understanding of conversion as referring mainly to shifting the defence industry to civilian production, to that of a multi-dimensional process involving the orderly redirection of human and material resources employed in military activities to development. This broader understanding of ‘conversion’ was the objective of the Group for Environmental Monitoring (GEM) project ‘Redefining Security: Militarisation and the Ecology of Southern Africa’, initiated in 1993. GEM is committed to expanding the conceptual framework of conservation and conversion. The key notion is that we need to move beyond conservation in the sense of protecting threatened plants, animals and wilderness areas, to the broader understanding that conservation refers to the natural resource base on which all economic activity depends. While GEM is concerned broadly with linking concepts of biodiversity to sustainable development, this particular project aimed to conduct research that would empower civil society to engage meaningfully in debates about future defence policy. Environmentalists are concerned about defence issues for three reasons: because of the direct, negative impact on the environment; the military’s consumption of scarce resources; and the relation between environmental scarcity and conflict. As Gavin Cawthra argues, rethinking the notion of ‘security’ is the key to understanding the links between demilitarisation, environmental protection and sustainable development. The legacy of armed conflict over the last 30 years and the process of militarisation in southern. Africa have created a precarious, mutual vulnerability in the region. Current threat analyses confirm that there are no military threats. The White Paper on Defence (1996) acknowledges this and the Deputy Minister of Defence has admitted publicly that ‘there is no conventional enemy threatening to invade us’ (Ronnie Kasrils speaking on television, 6 October 1996). While Kasrils argues that, in an unpredictable world, one needs high defence expenditure as an insurance policy, this only makes sense if there is a strong likelihood of attack by a foreign power. Without this, security and defence needs have to take into account the variety of security problems prompted by the effects of poverty, war, drought, disease and social dislocation. It is increasingly recognised that a broader concept of security – one which emphasises ecological and developmental factors – is necessary. Rethinking security involves confronting a powerful paradox: that the military – the institution meant to ‘protect’ and ‘defend’ – in reality represents a threat to security. As Dr Rosalie Bertell, from the Toronto-based Institute of Concern for Public Health, stated at the World Women’s Congress for a Healthy Planet, in 1991: ‘It is the military who are destroying the earth, and they are doing so in the name of “national security.” ’ The Congress agreed that
This paradox is clearest in the growing body of evidence on the disastrous environmental impact of military activity, including research, development, weapon production, testing manoeuvres, the presence of military bases and the disposal of toxic wastes, in addition to the direct impact of armed conflict. Militarisation, poverty and the environmentIf further evidence was required of the negative environmental consequences of military activity, the Gulf War has supplied it in abundance. The Gulf War demonstrated ‘that wars and environmental protection are incompatible’ (Renner, 1991:2). However, environmental damage is not limited to episodes of war and armed conflict, but is implicit in militarisation, the process whereby resources are mobilised for war. Military activities, even in peacetime, affect the environment. ‘Such activities include the production and testing of weapons, training and exercises, the establishment of military bases and installations, the maintenance of a state of alert and combat readiness, and accidents of various kinds’ (United Nations, 1991:12). Furthermore, military activities consume resources urgently needed for economic development and environmental protection. For example, approximately 20 per cent of the world’s scientists are engaged in military research to the detriment of research into environmental issues such as alternative energy sources and conservation. High defence expenditure means that less is available for safeguarding our deteriorating environments. THE SADF AND THE DESTRUCTION OF WILDLIFE War in the southern African region has taken its toll on wildlife. In October 1994, President Mandela appointed a commission under the chair of Mr Justice Kumleben to investigate the alleged smuggling of and illegal trade in rhino and ivory horn in South Africa. One of the key allegations was that the South African Defence Force (SADF) had covertly slaughtered and destroyed elephant herds and rhino in neighbouring countries, especially Angola and Mozambique, and had been involved in the sale and export of ivory and rhino horn. It was alleged that such operations were sanctioned by authorities in the SADF and ministers of state. Allegations of SADF involvement in the decimation of wildlife date to the mid- 1970s. For example, a submission by a consortium of non-governmental organisations to a United States Congress Subcommittee stated that ‘The South African military has cynically aided the virtual annihilation of the once-great elephant herds of Angola.’ In the same year, Jonas Savimbi said South Africa had provided aid to UNITA ‘but not at any price. We pay for aid with our diamonds, timber and ivory’ (Kumleben, 1996: 19). A member of the South African parliament, Rupert Lorimer, took up this issue and, in 1988, an internal military inquiry was appointed under Brigadier Ben de Wet Roos. This inquiry was closed to the public and the findings were kept secret. Kumleben described this inquiry as a ‘charade’ and ‘not an honest attempt to fulfil its terms of reference and seek the truth’. Military personnel who gave evidence before the Kumleben Commission described it as superficial and ‘slap-dash’ (ibid., 89) The Kumleben Commission uncovered startling evidence of SADF involvement in the decimation of elephant and rhino. One of the witnesses at the Kumleben Commission was Colonel Jan Breytenbach who was stationed in western Caprivi, Namibia, from 1970 to 1975. He described an area called Cuando Cubango in southeast Angola as ‘breathtaking . . . I’ve never seen anything like it in my life before . . . the number of animals and the diversity of wildlife species was such that it put the Kruger National Park completely in the shade. When we’re talking about elephants, we’re talking about tens of thousands of elephants roaming all over the place, hundreds of rhino, huge herds of buffalo, especially along the Luiana River, sables, roan antelope, tsessebe, blue wildebeest, zebras’ (ibid., 26). When he returned in 1983, ‘The elephants were . . . over a thousand strong, and they diminished – decreased gradually as we were going along until 1987 when I only could count about 180 elephants’ (ibid., 27). The Kumleben Commission concluded:
At the time of publication of the Kumleben Commission’s findings, a number of ex-conscripts called in to a Johannesburg-based radio station to confirm Kumleben’s conclusions. Some described seeing 300-400 shot elephants and described the activities of the SADF as ‘barbaric’, while another commented, ‘We were sent into an area to decimate everything there whether cattle, ivory or people’ (Radio 702, 18 January 1996).
(Source: The Kumleben Commission) The world’s armed forces ‘are a major cause of environmental degradation across the globe’ (Finger, 1991:220). Renner estimates that the military sector’s share of oil and energy use world-wide is about 3-4 per cent and double this if indirect use is included (Renner 1991). He also points out that about 0,5-1 per cent of the planet’s land mass is used for military bases alone. The operations of the armed forces may account for 6-10 per cent of global air pollution and the armed forces of the world are the largest producers of hazardous chemical and nuclear waste. Within the United States, the military is the largest generator of hazardous waste. The Pentagon’s annual toxic output – nearly 500 000 tons – exceeds that of the top five US chemical companies combined (Birchem, 1992:1). Most military bases world-wide ‘are probably heavily contaminated. The US Department of Defense has found almost 15 000 contaminated sites in about 1 600 military bases within the US alone. It is likely that the pollution problems are even worse on the US bases abroad’ (Finger, 1991:221). Thus ‘with its choreographed violence, the military destroys large tracts of the land it is supposed to protect’ (Birchem, 1992:2). The relation between militarisation and environmental degradation is particularly obvious in the southern African region. The cost of SADF-sponsored wars in Angola, Malawi, Mozambique, Namibia, Zambia and Zimbabwe has been estimated as involving the loss of 1,5 million lives and US$45 billion since 1980 (Steiner, 1993:3). In 1992, the death toll in the Angolan civil war reached 1 000 per day. While the human and economic costs of these wars have been relatively well documented, their environmental impact has been neglected. Johnson and Martin maintain that the impact of apartheid on the region in ecological, economic and human terms ‘represents a holocaust’ (Johnson & Martin, 1989:11). Ecologists returning to Mozambique’s Gorongosa National Park and Maromeuy Delta report that the war has decimated much of the area’s wildlife. ‘All that is left are small numbers of the previously abundant impala, waterbuck, hartebeest and nyala’ (Dutton, 1994). Furthermore, there are reports that anti-personnel land-mines were sown in unmapped localities throughout these parks. About 20 million land-mines, or one-third of the world’s total, are located in southern Africa. Alex Vines relates how land-mines have been a major source of human injury and suffering. Angola has the highest rate of amputees in the world and there are millions of internal refugees displaced by the war in which the SADF played a central role. In 1996, the Kumleben Commission found that the SADF was involved in the illegal smuggling of ivory and rhino horn from Angola and Namibia from mid-1975 to 1986. The SADF has acknowledged that it ‘helped’ UNITA sell ivory from elephants killed during the Angolan war (General Magnus Malan, cited in The Star, 19 January 1996). The Madimbo Corridor wilderness area in the Limpopo River valley has been degraded by military activities over decades. According to a recent report, ‘concrete slabs and abandoned buildings of old bases litter the wilderness and the area has been carved up by numerous roads now eroding into dongas in the sandy soil’ (Allen, 1996:7). Another example of direct damage to environmental resources is evident in the SADF’s responsibility for herbicide contamination. In the 1970s, a sisal hedge was planted on the Zimbabwe border as a security barrier. The use of illegal and dangerous herbicides to remove it caused a major ecological disaster, contaminating farmers’ crops and natural vegetation along the Limpopo River. ‘Herbicide contamination was detected in soil in the Limpopo Valley and in water from Messina to the Kruger National Park’ (The Star, 22 February 1996). Apart from direct environmental damage, general environmental deterioration – damage to the natural resource base on which all economic development activity depends – is a direct threat to security. Southern Africa could become caught in a cycle in which environmental scarcity and degradation lead to tensions, local disputes and violence, which lead in turn to civil and inter-state wars, and thus to further environmental degradation. This has been termed the ‘greenwar factor’ – the recognition that ‘in the complex web of causes leading to social and political instability, bloodshed and war, environmental degradation is playing an increasingly important role’ (Bennett, 1991:2). As Raymond Williams warned, ‘the continuation of existing patterns of unequal consumption of the earth’s resources will lead us inevitably into various kinds of war, of different scales and extent’ (Williams, 1982:55). Southern Africa’s population of about 145 million is expected to double within the next 25 years, resulting in scarcities of some non-renewable resources, unless present consumption patterns are altered. Martin Rupiah indicates how water could become a source of conflict and tension in the region. Other direct threats are poverty and the proliferation of light weapons, which is linked to increasing rates of violent crime. A World Bank study established that almost half of South Africa’s population lives in poverty. In this study, poverty is defined as an income of R301 or less per adult per month. The study found that the bottom 20 per cent lived on an income of R118 or less per adult per month. These figures are cold and lifeless indicators of human misery, hunger and homelessness. At the same time, South Africa has one of the most unequal distributions of income in the world. The current defence budget clearly absorbs resources which could be invested in infrastructure such as housing, clinics and schools. Civil society needs to be empowered to question why the state is spending R875 million on 12 Rooivalk attack helicopters. The Rooivalk project has soaked up some R1,17 billion in research and development money and has failed to create more than a few hundred jobs. While much attention has been given to the relation between the military and political power in South Africa, as Feaver points out, ‘less obvious, but just as sinister, is the ability of the military to destroy society by draining it of resources’ (Feaver, 1996:152) Another direct threat to security is the rising level of violent crime related to the proliferation of light weapons. Light weapons are a development issue: land-mines impede post-conflict social and economic recovery, and the availability of small arms exacerbates political violence and social instability, and has direct effects on economic development. Post-apartheid South Africa is undergoing a ‘domestic arms race’ in which sub-state groups (principally, organised crime and private citizens) have acquired arms and are contributing to the militarisation of society. Firearm killings are the fastest-growing form of violence in South Africa; every day, 19 people are murdered with a firearm. The main cause of the proliferation of light weapons is the armed conflict that has taken place in the region, and ineffective disarmament and demobilisation in post-conflict peace building. The main source of small arms is leakage from the various armed formations involved in these conflicts. Many weapons are returning to South Africa in a ‘boomerang effect’. The solution to the problem of violent crime and the proliferation of light weapons is complex, but in the immediate short term it requires a massive shift of resources from the military to the police.
1. Introduction. Part 2. Jacklyn Cock 1998 |
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