Politics at the grassroots in South Africa

May 10, 1995
Issue 

Between December 1994 and February 1995, a dozen members of the West Australian South Africa Solidarity (WASAS) group visited South Africa on a work and study brigade. The group ran workshops with grassroots organisations struggling to deal with family violence, child abuse, health care issues and prisoner's rights in the new South Africa. Green Left Weekly's LISA MACDONALD interviewed two members of the brigade, joint coordinator ANGIE HARTWIG, who spent 14 weeks in the country, and South African-born Perth community worker Bernie Fisher, about the problems and concerns facing South African urban communities one year after the abolition of apartheid.

Which community organisations did you work with in South Africa?

BF: Both Angie and I spent most of our time in the major cities of Johannesburg and Durban, where we had contact with a number of organisations, but worked principally with three major groups — the ANC Women's League, the South African Prisoners Organisation for Human Rights (SAPOHR) in Johannesburg, and the advice desk for women at Durban's Westfield University, which dealt with family violence and child abuse issues, and community education.

Almost all of the people we spent our time with were urban black South Africans because, although apartheid has broken down in theory, it is still there in practice. Even the community groups are all organised along colour lines.

What are the most immediate needs of the black communities you worked in?

AH: For the majority of South Africans, there are still a huge number of basic needs unmet, including the ordinary day-to-day things such as housing, electricity, sewerage and health care. Then there is a second layer of problems such as child abuse, domestic violence, drug abuse and so on which continue to plague the people.

BF: Very little has changed in a day-to-day sense. Things have improved in terms of attitudes, in particular black people seeing themselves as equal and being able to stand up for themselves. There is also freedom of movement for black people now, and that's a big change. But other than that, their daily lives have not changed.

Under apartheid there was always poverty, people living and begging on the streets. But it was only ever black people begging. Today, there are still many black people on the streets, but they have now been joined by probably nearly as many white beggars.

What role are the grassroots community organisations playing in trying to meet some of these basic needs?

BF: Some really interesting things are happening in the non-government organisations [NGOs]. Because they have fought a 50 year war from the grassroots level and basically won it in the end, black South Africans have highly developed networks, ways of working and degrees of organisation at the community level.

However, now that apartheid has been abolished and all these grassroots organisations are legal, they face a dilemma. Being legitimate organisations, they can organise and advocate for people at a grassroots level more effectively but, at the same time, the election of the ANC means that suddenly the government, which had always been the enemy, is supposed to be their government.

I noticed a lot of schizophrenia over that. People are trying to figure out where they stand now. On the one hand they had, at least in principle, supported the ANC and fought to get it into power. On the other hand, now that the ANC is the government, it has different priorities and agendas so people often have to struggle against the government, against the ANC. They've always been and feel that they must still be loyal to the ANC, but they don't necessarily like what the ANC is doing, so what do they do?

The ANC Women's League, for example, has real identity problems at the moment. They are asking, "Who are we? Are we part of the government or are we here for all women?". They're torn between wanting to get services to the people by working within the system and not losing their independence and grassroots base. They are asking themselves the question, "Do we become part of the system or do we fight the system?".

AH: Funding really highlights this. None of the organisations we worked for received any government funding to provide community services. Few NGOs do. They tend to rely on funding from international donors. Now all these organisations are finding that the government wants to centralise their international donations and administer all NGO funding through the government. This is really frightening the NGO sector.

In addition, some of the more radical groups such as the Power of Women group, which has done some wonderful work through grassroots campaigning, who don't get any money at the moment, are worried about relying on government money. They are concerned about what sort of criteria they are going to be subject to.

Were the community leaders you worked with optimistic about the potential of the Reconstruction and Development Program and the new government to carry out rebuilding quickly?

BF: It's a real mix. Among the black people generally there is optimism. Mandela is still seen as god, and so long as Mandela is there, most people will back the system. But at the same time, particularly within SAPOHR, there is a lot of talk about the "gravy train" — that is, that there are people in the ANC who have gone into government just for themselves.

AH: There are a lot of questions and fear about whether the organisations are going to be able to retain their autonomy and deliver to their members the types of services they need. But generally, most of the people I spoke to realise that it is a long term-project and that there is no quick fix solution that the government can deliver within the first year or two.

Of course, that is a hard reality to face when your needs aren't being met. Being patient when you see white South Africans still living off the fat of the land while 20 minutes down the road the black people in Alexandria still live in absolute squalor is immensely difficult, and there are those who are saying that things have to happen quicker.

BF: On the question of patience, it seems to depend on where you are on the ladder. The more educated, economically better off black people feel that it is going to take time, and they will live with that. Those at the bottom of the heap, the ones who have no education and who are living in the townships in the worse possible conditions, are saying they want something to happen now — they want electricity, sewerage, education. This is true for the majority of people still.

What role is mass mobilisation playing in meeting people's needs?

AH: People power is very strong. There is a real sense of community-level empowerment and very strong and active civics, many of which are connected to the ANC.

People know in general what the issues are and they know what they want. In the absence of resources from the government, they also know that the only way to achieve their goals is to campaign in a political sense. So there is a lot of mass mobilisation.

Among the women especially, I felt that there was still a strong sense of links between politicians and the grassroots. Now that apartheid has been officially dismantled, women are very clear about the issues they face and where they want to go with their struggle. They are really mobilising around the issues of child-care, women in employment and rape — all the issues that they've always confronted. They are also looking to mobilise beyond the ANC Women's League so as to link all of the women's groups and create an even more powerful momentum for change.

What role are young people playing?

BF: African children anywhere from 8 or 9 years old have been fighting on the streets, taking the bullets, throwing the stones throughout the country's history. The young people have been at the forefront of the struggle. They have led it because they haven't been prepared to put up with the system in the same way as many older black people were.

Now Mandela is saying, "Go back to school. You're not going to get jobs if you're not educated." It's fine saying that, but when you've been on the streets throwing stones for the last 10 years, when you know how to steal, kill and plunder but have no education, going to school to learn the alphabet is very difficult.

It is these young people who are the most impatient about the slow pace of change. They don't want to wait. Of course they are also open to manipulation by anti-government forces, and that's a real danger for the future.

AH: The last time I was in South Africa, prior to the elections, I was struck by the high level of consciousness about social change, the strong desire for a new South Africa and the recognition that they [young people] would play an important role in bringing it about.

The student movement has always been very strong in South Africa, and it looks like it will continue to be. Because of the struggle they have carried out, there is a high level of consciousness about the issues and a high level of organisation among young people today.

I found incredible strength among them too. Given how limited their options have been and continue to be, just being able to resist things like involvement in crime or drug use is an indication of that strength.

The youth want to be part of building the new South Africa, but they also need strong leadership. Chris Hani was such a leader for the youth, and his murder really upset the apple cart. No-one has emerged yet to take his place.

Did you leave South Africa feeling confident about the prospects for peace and social justice?

BF: The world is sitting back saying that it's all OK now, but it's not. As long as South Africa can survive the next 10-20 years, there's hope, but it is still on the knife edge. The council elections coming up in August are going to reflect that. It is probably going to be a much dirtier campaign than the elections a year ago. It can still all go wrong.

AH: That's true. But I also saw a strong sense of never giving up on the struggle and a recognition that there still is a struggle to be fought. The overwhelming feeling is, "We've been through so much and we're still standing up. We're not going to take more crap."

There's a real sense of comradeship too. There's no bitterness about the past, because black South Africans knew that they were part of a much bigger struggle than simply black against white.

Most importantly, there is a strong commitment to passing on that sense of struggle, of not giving up, to their children. This gives me a lot of hope.
[For more information about WASAS or the next brigade to South Africa, write to WASAS, 44 Denis St, Subiaco WA 6008. Ph/fax (09) 227 9276.]

You need Green Left, and we need you!

Green Left is funded by contributions from readers and supporters. Help us reach our funding target.

Make a One-off Donation or choose from one of our Monthly Donation options.

Become a supporter to get the digital edition for $5 per month or the print edition for $10 per month. One-time payment options are available.

You can also call 1800 634 206 to make a donation or to become a supporter. Thank you.