Soldiers In A Storm

The Armed Forces In South Africa's Democratic Transition

Philip Frankel

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9780367096472
• eBook ISBN: 9780429976889
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: African Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Soldiers in a Storm: The Armed Forces in South Africa's Democratic Transition is a study of the role of the military in the creation and development of South Africa's new post-apartheid system. Philip Frankel asserts that the armed forces played a far greater role in the end of apartheid than is currently acknowledged in the literature, and that the relatively peaceful negotiations that ended apartheid would not have been possible without the participation of the South African National Defense Force and two major liberation armies.Frankel also examines the topics of military disengagement, civilianization, post-authoritarian political behavior on the part of militaries, and the process of democratic consolidation. He also discusses how many of these themes have been explored in the context of Latin America, and he points out that this is the only book that places these themes within the context of South Africa. This is an important case study with universal implications.

1

Negotiation: Forging the Military Pact

If military-political affairs were only left to a few efficient and reliable officers, the officers would soon agree to everybody’s satisfaction.

—Helmuth von Moltke, “The Elder” (1800-1891).

The enemies front is not the objective. The essential thing is to crush the enemies flanks ... and complete the extermination by an attack on his rear.

—Alfred von Schliejfen, Cannae (1913).

Contemporary democratic transitions take on forms that reflect power relations between elite incumbents and opponents seeking to dismantle authoritarian political systems. Some transitions are speedy to the extent that history has eroded the foundations of authoritarian power in a manner that precludes elites negotiating from strength. Others are substantially slower because of equity in power between the protagonists, one consequence of which is that the political arrangements governing the emergent democratic system become heavily dependent upon trade-offs of interest, complex political deals, and give-and-take in aligning agendas. All transitions, however, require negotiations of some sort or another, including political gamesmanship not only between stakeholders in civil society but also between military actors. This is especially the case where each player, as in South Africa, possesses their own armed forces.

Prelude: Talks about Talks, 1991-1993

It is semiofficially acknowledged that the first tentative and vague contacts—the proverbial talks about talks—between the SADF and MK (the armed wing of the ANC) took place in 1991, although there is some evidence to suggest informal discussions occurred between individuals from the South African military and MK as early as ten to fifteen years before. Certainly the Directorate Military Intelligence (DMI) and the Department of Intelligence and Security (DIS), the intelligence arms of the SADF and the ANC respectively, were in touch, if only to “penetrate” the other long before F.W. de Klerk’s groundbreaking speech of February 1990, which opened the way to political reform. The content of this speech, which politically legalized the ANC and its allies in the liberation movement, nevertheless stimulated communication, with both parties— SADF and MK—meeting secretly on several occasions from May onward to address technical military issues arising out from the Groote Schuur Agreement, the product of the first formal talks between the ANC and the South African government.

Commonality of political interest was soon evident despite the distance between the opposing parties. As at the Congress for a Democratic South Africa (CODESA) meetings, where the two, major political parties were determined to dominate outcomes behind the appearance of democratic multilateralism, the MK and the SADF agreed to exclude the “homeland” and other nonstatutory forces from participation in future discussions in order to avoid “complications.” Neither the small Azanian National Liberation Army (AZANLA) nor APLA (the military wing of the Azanian Peoples Organisation [AZAPO] and the Pan African Congress [PAC]) were, in any case, inclined to enter negotiations prior to the transfer of power; neither was MK (the largest of the liberation armies) especially keen to form a united front with these smaller and ideologically divergent organizations in deciding on the future of a new national defense force. The SADF, with its equally monopolistic inclinations, was not about to consult with its clones in the homelands and thus conceded that their presence would imply recognition of the so-called bantustans.

In any event, both parties were suspicious of the largest of these armies, the Transkei Defence Force, whose wily leader, General Bantu Holomisa, had been playing a complex political game to build a support base among the SADF, the ANC, and the PAC simultaneously. MK was also “painfully aware that in many respects the technical expertise and formal training of the Transkei, Bophutatswana, Venda, and Ciskei (TBVC) forces was a threat to its own role as the SADF’s major negotiating adversary.”¹ Holomisa and these forces were eventually to throw in their lot with the ANC when they were finally admitted to negotiations in November 1993. By then, however, the major decisions had been taken. This, plus the absence of other nonstatutory forces, did not “reduce the validity of negotiations”² but, as we shall see, posed several problems that would become evident once the armed forces amalgamated after the elections.

By early 1993, however, political negotiations in civil society at CODESA were beginning to deadlock as the ANC and the National Party—the two biggest players in the game—ran into disputes over essential questions, principles, and procedures with regard to power sharing. The SADF and Umkhonto now decided to take the initiative and enter into bilateral negotiations, for continued political uncertainty had obvious implications for the military balance of power between the state military and its opponents. Neither of the key negotiators at the Congress for a Democratic South Africa (CODESA, convened at the World Trade Centre in Kempton Park east of Johannesburg, ultimately brokered the agreement that led to the 1994 democratic elections), Roelf Meyer (lead negotiator for the government/National Party) and Cyril Ramaphosa (chief negotiator for the ANC) was seen to be especially well equipped to address the specific issues inherent in a military pact; perhaps more important, neither enjoyed the full confidence of the respective military leaderships. From the SADF perspective, Meyer, who had enjoyed a short and not particularly distinguished career as de Klerk’s previous minister of defense, seemed insufficiently forceful to be entrusted with the important business of securing the corporate interests of the armed forces under some new, as yet unclear political dispensation. His association with de Klerk, the archetype Machiavellian and cynically self-serving politician (in the view of some generals), had further damaged Meyer’s image as the person to negotiate the appropriate “fit” for the military within a postapartheid framework. The comparably sleek Ramaphosa, who had been involved in the struggle only on the internal front, was equally uncongenial to the hard men of MK, who, like their SADF counterparts, began to feel that direct military-to-military talks were needed.

As civil leaders appeared increasingly incapable of managing the violence outside the negotiating chambers, both sets of military leaders were reinforced in their mutual concurrence that it was essential to secure a degree of internal order so that political negotiations could continue. Both MK and the SADF were deeply concerned that “unstable elements”—APLA, the Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB), and, to a lesser degree, the Afrikaner Vryheidsfront—could derail political negotiations, but neither felt it could act unilaterally against military formations that were either ideologically akin or sentimentally inclined toward the opponent. In the case of the SADF, action against APLA or rogue elements in MK would have unacceptable political spin-offs; neither could its own leadership be seen to take decisive action against the militant white right wing, with its strategic pockets of support in the Commandos (largely white rural units), in the part-time forces, and in the military mainstream—unless MK could be recruited into an initiative under the umbrella of a “national” peace force.

“The purpose of negotiations,” noted an SADF official at the time, “is to find the best possible way to jointly manage conflict before, during and after elections.”³ Unstated was the view that MK appeared to be “on the bare bones of its arse,” with limited logistical control and infrastructure for its widely dispersed cadres in the Republic and camps to the north of the border. Confident that it could maneuver proceedings from a position of strength, the SADF welcomed intensified bilateral talks that, it believed, would catch MK off-balance.

These views were shared by the senior leadership of the South African Police (SAP, the old apartheid police), which, like its military counterparts, was deeply disturbed by the escalating political violence in the run-up to the April 1994 elections. The SAP, however, was reluctant (or institutionally incapable) of participating in the full-blown strategic management plan for elections—nor was the SAP especially welcomed by the military. Hence, the military bureaucrats were at the center of various efforts (by now launched on mandate from the Defence Command Council [DCC]) to devise a system to protect national and corporate interests in the unstable, unpredictable conditions of transition. Since the legalization of the ANC, the SADF had in fact begun provisionally examining the various costs, benefits, and options attached to transacting with MK, and during 1992 efforts were stepped up to work the variables into a systematic, if unfortunately termed, “total strategy” for negotiations. As the SADF recognized, this involved, inter alia, setting “minimum baselines” for the principles and process of eventual integration of all forces into the new national defense force that would inevitably follow elections. During 1992, for example, SADF strategists at Operations Division, because of several difficulties inherent in bringing the various armed formations together, toyed with the idea of “joint arrangements” with MK rather than full integration prior to elections. These included time constraints with elections looming, the possible diminution of SADF command and control once MK became part of a single defense force, and subsequent internal conflict within the SADF, including resistance from the “platteland,” that is, rightist elements in its part-time component.⁴ Ultimately, full preelectoral integration was elevated to the top of the agenda (for the SADF, if not MK), since this would simultaneously secure the armed forces the legitimacy they required; facilitate SADF participation in a National Peace-keeping Force (NPKF); and, perhaps most important, lock MK into a system of institutionalized control before the transfer of power to an unpredictable Government of National Unity.

The internal debate then turned its attention to the comparative costs and advantages of integrating MK members as a group or individually. Initially, there was a strong case for the latter: This would assist quality control over new MK recruits, maintain SADF hegemony, break MK cohesion, cream off its leadership (who could be anticipated to be among the first to apply for admission), and assist the inculcation of SADF organizational culture. Collective integration, in contrast, would compel MK to release information on its depots, organization, and personnel, notwithstanding the downside to this option—the economics of the exercise, the risk of “SAW troepe” (i.e., the national armed forces) being placed under MK commanders with their political commitments, and, once again, resistance from the right, both inside and, to a lesser extent, outside the military establishment.

Eventually the decision settled on the collective approach, so long as it would not impede SADF constitutional responsibilities and operational effectiveness. MK would settle for nothing less, and integration en masse held out several crucial symbolic and strategic advantages. At the metaphorical level, it would build local and international credibility for the SADF as a participant in a truly “popular” force. MK would be challenged to match this bona fides, and if it did not (or so it was calculated), it could be labeled as destructive to the transition process. Less prosaically, the collective approach would halt the dangerous tendency of MK cadres to disperse or exfiltrate throughout the country; it also spread the burden and responsibility for managing the mounting political violence.⁵

Debates of this type formed the backdrop to the first officially acknowledged bilateral contacts between the SADF and MK. As we have implied, they are still veiled in mystery, although it is commonly accepted that the intelligence services in both camps—the National Intelligence Service (NIS), Military Intelligence, and the ANC’s DIS—were important brokers in bringing together the military men as well as the ANC political leaders. Various clandestine meetings took place from the beginning of the 1990s, most at the Dome (the Military Intelligence College in the eastern suburbs of Pretoria), and they enabled each side to come to a direct appreciation of the other. NIS and Military Intelligence were in close contact with Mandela through intermediaries who visited the future president after he was transferred from Robben Island to Pollsmoor Prison on the South African mainland prior to his eventual release; Thabo Mbeki, whom the intelligence agencies contacted in both Europe and Africa; “Terror” Lekota (subsequently premier of the Free State region); and, above all, Joe Modise, who was correctly appraised as heir-apparent to the Ministry of Defence (MOD) under the proposed new government. From the purely military perspective, these first minor contacts were important not only in clearing up mutual misperceptions but also as a means of bonding the soldiers despite their political differences and historic enmity. While it would be an exaggeration to say, as some former SADF leaders do in retrospect, that reconciliation began in the military years before civil society, the personal relations quietly forged between individuals among the two major armed formations while the politicians were posturing were significant in circumventing the institutional obstacles that arose once deliberations became more serious, public, and formal. Certainly both armies realized that, in the absence of a military pact and irrespective of any political deals, South Africa would be reduced to a wasteland that neither wished to inherit.

Once power-sharing negotiations got under way, mechanisms were put in place to coordinate negotiation strategy on a more regular and formal basis. In late 1992, General “Kat” Liebenberg, Chief of the South African Defence Force (CSADF), volunteered the SADF to energize negotiations with Neil Barnard, chief of NIS; shortly thereafter it appears that delegations met at a secret venue east of Pretoria. Principles were placed on the table, although both parties emphasized that these were not “negotiations,” as the ANC had only “suspended” the armed struggle. Nevertheless, agreement was reached on several basic principles that eventually shaped the military component of transition, such as the apolitical and nondiscriminatory nature of a postapartheid military. SADF’s insistence on maintaining a large part-time component in the future defense force as a matter of economy soured the somewhat brittle atmosphere, largely because MK equated this arrangement with conscription, the maintenance of the white Commandos, and minority power in general. This reinforced the SADF perception, which it would later turn to its advantage, that MK had little information on the specialist aspects, structures, and chain of command of the South African armed forces, despite a good general knowledge of military matters. To the relief of the SADF, MK accepted the need to maintain high professional standards but then asserted that they could not be barriers to speedy af...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Preface
• Acronyms
• 1 Negotiation: Forging the Military Pact
• 2 Caesarian Section: The Birth of the South African National Defence Force
• 3 Smoke and Mirrors: Transforming the Armed Forces
• 4 Guns and Butter: Social Reconstruction and Rearmament
• Epilogue: Beyond the Millennium
• Select Bibliography
• Index