BY PATRICK BOND
JOHANNESBURG — If you had a choice, which city would you choose to
host the 2002 “World Summit on Sustainable Development” — also known as
Rio+10 — in which 60,000 delegates will jaw-jaw about the world's social
and environmental problems? The site picked by the United Nations in December
was Johannesburg, South Africa.
The main Rio+10 conference will take place in what passes for Johannesburg's
new business district, a hedonistic edge-city called Sandton. It's about
24km north of the traditional city centre which was originally built during
the 1890s gold rush — and then rebuilt many times, ultimately to become
Africa's most intimidating concrete canyons.
From an investor's standpoint, democracy wasn't good for that part of
town. Beginning in the late 1980s, black South Africans were allowed into
the CBD without their “pass books”. Over the past decade, virtually all
Johannesburg's white-run corporations fled the desegregating inner-city.
Mid-1970s office blocks — such as the Carlton Centre, Africa's tallest
building at 50 storeys — are now valued at 10% of their replacement cost,
thanks to mass white capitalist disinvestment and “red lining” by banks.
In Sandton, the southern hemisphere's plushest suburb, a huge, faux-Italian
“public” square was built and quickly surrounded by skyscrapers, banks
(including a brand new Citibank tower), boutiques for the ubiquitous nouveau-riche,
five-star hotels, a garish convention centre, Africa's biggest stock exchange
and other architectural detritus showcasing brazen economic power.
Because of South Africa's crime hysteria, a fortress mentality prevails
in Sandton. The cutting-edge high-tech surveillance systems, staffed by
poverty-level black security workers, compare closely with those described
in author Mike Davis' landmark work about Los Angeles, City of Quartz.
As for transplanting Mediterranean themes to the African high veld, you
can imagine the culture clash.
Last December there was a vibrant power struggle between South African
security guards and their sweatshop-style employers. While small black-run
security firms agreed to union demands for a minimum monthly wage of US$200
— hardly compensating for the life-threatening work of guarding the rich
in the world's most unequal country — this was considered an “excessive”
sum by the white-owned firms, many of which are run by former cops from
the era of apartheid.
Alexandra
Just a few kilometres to the east lives Sandton's reserve army of labour.
The impoverished township of Alexandra is home to an estimated 300,000
people crammed into about five square kilometres of mainly squalid housing.
In January, there was an outbreak of cholera spread by the murky Jukskei
River which cuts through the township. Epidemiologists say the disease
was brought to “Alex” by Zulu migrant workers returning to the city from
the holiday break. The national epidemic, which dates from last August,
has sickened more than 54,000 people, leaving at least 137 dead as of February
20, 117 in KwaZulu-Natal. Another 500 contract the killer disease every
day. Deaths have been reported in four of South Africa's nine provinces.
The reason is simple: nearly seven years after the formal end of racial
apartheid, most South Africans still rely upon untreated water. There has
been virtually no installation of inexpensive rural pit-latrine sanitation
since 1994.
At the epidemic's epicentre, in deep rural KwaZulu-Natal, the outbreak
was preceded by destitute people, who could not afford the US$7 connection
fee, having their piped water cut off. For the 17 years before, water had
been supplied free by the apartheid regime.
The apartheid-era migrant labour system is still dominant. Rural women
continue to carry many of the labour reproduction costs that a normal capitalist
economy would internalise. Add to this the unserviced shack settlements
which have popped up in many Johannesburg environs and you get a lethal
public health bomb, being detonated again and again by poverty, unemployment,
evictions of poor people from formal townships, and cut-offs of municipal
services like water and electricity.
Contributing to the madness, Johannesburg's African National Congress
council announced, just as the cholera bug appeared, that they would redouble
the “credit control” system against people not paying for services — by
cutting services to more poor residents.
Then Gauteng provincial government housing bureaucrats announced that
thousands of long-time Alexandra residents living in shacks along the Jukskei
would be evicted in a two-week exercise reminiscent of apartheid forced
removals (not on race grounds, however, South Africa now has full-blown
class apartheid now). People are being moved dozens of kilometres away
to already overcrowded shantytowns.
The Gauteng provincial government is led by the high-profile former
trade union federation leader (and South African Communist Party central
committee member) Sam Shilowa.
Forced removals
On February 13, hundreds of residents attempted to prevent the evictions
of more than 1000 families. On television screens throughout the world,
there were scenes of hundreds of security men wearing red overalls (dubbed
“red ants” by the residents), led by stereotypical white bosses, bulldozing
houses and possessions. When residents began fighting back, the police
moved in with rubber bullets, tear gas and stun grenades and quelled the
dissent. At least eight people were seriously injured. A man was wounded
by gunfire and taken to hospital.
The February 13 Panafrican News Agency report of the evictions provided
graphic details of the shock many residents felt at the African National
Congress provincial government's actions: “After a day of tension, which
saw violent clashes with police and security guards, exhausted residents
sat despondently on the demarcated empty pieces of land, with their furniture
around them, wondering how they were going to sleep in case it rained.
“Some had bits of zinc which they managed to salvage from the roofs
of their brick houses and were attempting to build shacks with them.
Joyce Mbathani who has two children, age 13 and six, sat around attempting
to build some kind of shelter. `Look, I have a new fridge, a cell phone,
a freezer which work with electricity. What am I going to do with them?
Now we are dumped here in the veld with chemical toilets and water in tanks.
What happens to my furniture? The children go to school in London Road.
I don't know how they are going to get there', she said with tears in her
eyes.
“David Dlamini, who remained behind in Alexandra waiting to be moved
the next day said he had no idea if he was going to Diepsloot or to Extension
Seven. He said he had never seen this type of treatment at the hands of
the apartheid government. `We voted for this government because it is black
and we thought it would look after us, but look how it is treating us like
animals throwing us into the veld. They must move us into houses', he said.
“Community leader Bishop Mampe Maredi said the people, many of whom
were the poorest of the poor, were being treated like dogs. `Even the previous
government treated people better than this', he said.
“South African National Civic Organisation Alexandra branch chairperson
Philemon Machitela also slammed the move. `The timing is wrong. These are
forced removals. People don't know where they are going to. People should
not be moved to Diepsloot but to land in Linbro Park, Frankenwald, Marlboro
and Tsutsumani where there are empty houses', he said.”
Water apartheid
The fact that filthy water was the excuse for the apartheid-style evictions
is ironic. Johannesburg's water is increasingly sourced from a massive
World Bank-funded dam complex in Lesotho, several hundred kilometres to
the south. In one of the world's most impressive cross-catchment projects,
water shoots down from the Maluti mountains into the river systems that
supply Johannesburg, through a tunnel 42km long, built at a cost of US$2.5
billion.
Community activists in Alexandra recently joined with Lesotho rural
groups to demand a moratorium on further dam building. They argue that
rich white Johannesburgers should pay more to water their English gardens
and fill their swimming pools, and to local government to repair leaking
apartheid-era pipes through which half the township's water drains before
reaching the people.
Activists have regularly complained to Lesotho government officials,
South Africa's former water minister Kader Asmal, who is also chair of
the World Bank's World Commission on Dams, and to the World Bank itself.
The World Bank's in-house “inspection panel”, which can cancel unsound
projects, refused to consider — or even fully investigate — the activists'
case.
South African environment minister Valli Moosa on February 19, announcing
the themes for Rio+10, said that an important topic at the conference would
be ... wait for it ... water management!
The glitzy Sandton Convention Centre will be the main staging point
for Rio+10. South Africa's best environmentalists, union organisers and
social/community activists are making preparations for protests. Alexandra
will host one of the most exciting “convergence centres” of progressive
activists yet established.
[This article is based on an earlier article written for http://www.zmag.org.]