Shepherds & Butchers

Judge van Zyl broke with tradition and announced that he would not be producing a sketch plan of the prison to incorporate in the record of the trial what we had observed of the various sections of Maximum Security Prison. ‘We all know what we have seen, and I am not going to compromise the security of the prison.’ He ignored the fact that any member of the public could pick up a copy of the aerial photograph from the municipal offices around the corner.

Labuschagne’s family were sitting in the front row immediately behind the wooden barrier between the well of the court and the public section, on the defence side. His sister Antoinette sat between their parents. I wondered what went through her mind as she watched her brother admitting to the things he had done. Antoinette had attended every session so far. It reminded me of my grandmother’s wisdom: a sister’s loyalty knows no bounds.

One of the spectators on the balcony coughed and I looked up. A row of faces looked down on us. I wondered about them as they must have wondered about us. What did they think of us? Did they see us as gladiators or as monks, dressed in secret robes and engaged in a strange, ritualistic duel? I imagined I could feel their hostile gaze on the thinning spot at the crown of my head. I hoped that they had been properly searched at the entrance. Who were these people? Were they capable of killing? What business did they have here? It was, after all, a work day.

Judge van Zyl interrupted my thoughts. ‘Are counsel in agreement with the details I mentioned to them in chambers?’ he asked.

James Murray and I stood up and faced the bench. We exchanged a glance and then spoke at the same time. ‘We are, M’Lord.’

‘I will read my observations into the record then.’ The Judge turned the page and continued recording the Court’s observations during the inspection. I had to concentrate because everything recorded in this fashion would become evidence in the case.

‘The different sections of the prison will be described here in the order that we inspected them yesterday. C Section and the kitchen do not feature in the evidence and will be ignored. Special features pointed out by counsel will be described in detail. Where necessary I shall endeavour to give my own impressions of the atmosphere of the prison.’

The Judge paused for a moment when the Assessor on his left tugged lightly at the sleeve of his robe. They had a quick, whispered conversation. The Assessor pointed at Labuschagne, who was standing in the witness box. The Judge spoke directly to him.

‘There’s no reason for you to stand through all of this. I’m sorry, I should have noticed earlier. You may return to the dock and sit down until we have finished recording the Court’s observations at the inspection in loco.’

Labuschagne stepped out of the witness box and walked around the prosecutors’ end of the table to the door in the dock. For a moment he faced the spectators in the gallery behind the dock. He briefly made eye contact with his parents, but immediately lowered his gaze, turned and sat down.

The Judge resumed, and spoke for a long time before he concluded. ‘That completes our observations with regard to Section A1, with the exception of the atmosphere. We were there for about half an hour, from about two o’clock, and it was very quiet during the whole of that time. The prisoners were in their cells. The doors were locked. The only movement or sound was that of the guard on the catwalk; he came around every so often.’

Wierda slipped me another sketch. He must have made it overnight. It showed A Section in fine detail but we would not be able to use it.

So this was Wierda’s escape, I thought. While I was looking at the sights and features of Pretoria to take my mind off the case, he was making sketches.

I was looking at his sketch, my thoughts elsewhere, when the Judge asked, ‘Is there anything counsel would like to add to the observations I have recorded thus far?’

‘I turn now to describe B Section and, so far as it may be relevant, C Section.’

I studied Wierda’s work more carefully as the Judge read more of his observations into the record. This was Labuschagne’s place of work, the place where the agony of the Pot was felt most keenly. The sketch reduced all of that to a few strokes of a pen on a page.

I vaguely heard the Judge say, ‘There is another door in the chapel that takes one into the main passage of B Section. B Section, like A1 Section, consists of a passage with a catwalk overhead, and steel doors on either side.’

Wierda handed me yet another sketch, of B and C sections. He had near perfect recall.

The Judge droned on about B and C sections and concluded, ‘It remains for me to record the details of our observations in that part of the complex described as the gallows building. I’ll record those details after the long adjournment.’

Then he turned to me. ‘Would the defence be able to continue with the examination-in-chief of the defendant in the meantime?’

I motioned to Labuschagne to return to the witness box. The registrar stood up and reminded him that he was still under oath. Labuschagne nodded. We settled down for the session.

I made room for my notebook and adjusted my reading glasses. I could feel in my voice that the stress of the trial was beginning to take its toll. My voice had dropped half an octave as it always does under stress. The examination-in-chief had now already taken more than a day. When the Judge caught my eye I nodded and continued.

‘Mr Labuschagne, let’s move on to what happened during the three weeks from the twentieth of November to the tenth of December 1987. How did you experience those three weeks, as a whole?’

He was ready and spoke immediately. ‘We were very busy. There was never a day’s rest. It felt as if we were emptying the place, but as fast as we carried coffins out through the garage they were processing new arrivals at reception. It was like a conveyor belt.’ That sounded rehearsed.

‘Can you recall the numbers involved?’ I asked, knowing well that he had memorised the details.

‘Yes. We had been quiet the first half of November. We hanged three on the sixth and another one on the twentieth. Between the twenty-sixth November and the tenth December we had to hang thirty-two. We hanged four on the twenty-sixth November and then seven on the third, seven on the eighth, another seven on the ninth and the last seven on the tenth.’

‘Were you present at any of those executions in November and December?’ I knew the answer, of course, but the Court needed to hear it from Labuschagne’s mouth.

‘Please continue. What else happened during that period, from the twentieth until your arrest?’ I realised my question was too vague to make sense. ‘Tell the Court about the arrivals and departures from the prison. Take your time and use the register to refresh your memory.’

Labuschagne took his time before he answered. ‘Two prisoners came off the rope on the twentieth and transferred out.’

‘That’s what we said when someone won an appeal or got a reprieve. The ones waiting under sentence of death we said were on the rope, and the others came off the rope.’

Labuschagne checked the register before he answered. ‘Some warders came across from Central and took them away. On the twenty-third we let two more out as they were found not guilty on appeal. We took them to the gate and handed them over to their lawyers or their family. On the thirtieth five more were found not guilty on appeal and we let them go too. On the same day three others were reprieved. They were transferred to Central. On the first of December another one was found not guilty on appeal. He had been under a double death sentence; we took him out through the guardhouse at the front gate. He didn’t want to wait for his family to come and pick him up, so we took him to the main control boom at Potgieter Street and let him go. He just walked down the street.’

Labuschagne concentrated on the register, turning from page to page where we had stuck notes to guide him to the relevant parts quickly. ‘The same day another one’s sentence was changed to twelve years and he was taken away to Central. On the tenth one prisoner died of natural causes. I can’t remember the details because I was involved in escort duties.’

‘Thirty-two or thirty-three came in between the first of November and the tenth of December.’

As I was about to ask another question the Judge intervened. ‘Are all these details apparent from the register, what is it, Exhibit G?’

Wierda handed me our next set of exhibits and I held them up. ‘We have taken the liberty of transcribing the relevant entries in the register, M’Lord. It would facilitate not only the examination-in-chief but also the Court’s ability to follow the evidence without having to take detailed notes at the same time. May we hand that up to assist M’Lord and the Learned Assessors?’

The usher handed the sheets around. When Judge van Zyl had taken a perfunctory look at his copy, he asked, ‘We don’t have to give this a new exhibit number, do we? It is merely a transcript of what is in the register?’

The registrar shook her head. It was her function to keep track of the exhibits.

‘There are two qualifications, however, M’Lord,’ I said. ‘We have excluded from the transcript any entries that were made after the tenth of December because we want to maintain the situation as it was up to that date. And we have not listed the new arrivals the defendant has mentioned. This is an exit list. The admissions after the tenth December are not relevant to this case because the defendant never got to know them.’

I waited for Judge van Zyl to make eye contact or to give me the nod to continue, and then decided to hammer the point home a little less subtly.

‘The prisoners on this list are the ones who, one way or the other, left the prison during those last six weeks. They are the ones whom the defendant had got to know so well during their stay, or should I say, his stay in Maximum.’

‘I don’t like the idea of the names being used here,’ Judge van Zyl said, ‘but it is a public record, isn’t it?’ He did not wait for an answer. ‘Give us a moment to read the details.’ He adjusted his spectacles and read the extract slowly. I watched his eyes dart from column to column. As he read, a grim look spread across his features.

Wierda’s pencil went tap tap tap against his teeth and I put my hand on his arm to stop him.

NAME	V-NO	PLACE-SENTENCED	DATE	JUDGE	OUTCOME	DATE
Edward Phatack Tshuma	V3207	Johannesburg	28/8/84	Vermooten	Commuted to life imprisonment	20/11/87
Simon R Moatche	V3208	Johannesburg	28/8/84	Vermooten	Executed	26/11/87
Michael Mfeka	V3410	Durban	6/9/85	Broome	Commuted to 20 years imprisonment	30/11/87
Schalk Johannes Burger	V3420	Klerksdorp	19-20/9/85	Schabort	Commuted to life imprisonment	20/11/97
Joseph George Scheepers	V3421	Klerksdorp	19-20/9/85	Schabort	Executed	26/11/87
Kanton Klassop	V3473	Grahamstown	10/2/86	Mullins	Executed	3/12/87
Ishmael Mokone Marotholi	V3506	Bloemfontein	9/5/86	Edeling	Executed	8/12/87
Zacharia Molefi Kodisang	V3507	Bloemfontein	9/5/86	Edeling	Executed	8/12/87
Richard Busakwe	V3508	Bloemfontein	9/5/86	Edeling	Executed	8/12/87
Keta Richard Mkhatyiwa	V3520	Johannesburg	23/5/86	Vermooten	Appeal succeeds; not guilty, disch. on both counts	1/12/87
Khuselo Selby Mbambani	V3541	Cape Town	3/6/86	Nel	Executed	10/12/87
Willy Jacob Mpipi	V3564	Johannesburg	29/7/86	Vermooten	Executed	3/12/87
Johannes Mohapi	V3565	Johannesburg	29/7/86	Vermooten	Executed	3/12/87
Johannes Stefanus Delport	V3574	Bloemfontein	28/8/86	Hattingh	Executed	3/12/87
Jacobus Wynand Bosman	V3575	Johannesburg	28/8/86	Vermooten	Commuted to 15 years imprisonment	30/11/87
Annele Booi	V3602	Bloemfontein	11/9/86	Edeling	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	30/11/87
Abel Moeketsi	V3603	Bloemfontein	11/9/86	Edeling	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	30/11/87
David Tswele	V3604	Bloemfontein	11/9/86	Edeling	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	30/11/87
Government Sogelle	V3605	Bloemfontein	11/9/86	Edeling	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	30/11/87
Monde Nose	V3606	Bloemfontein	11/9/86	Edeling	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	30/11/87
Mncedisi Stamalatyi Khongwana	V3614	Grahamstown	26/9/86	Jansen	Appeal succeeds; death sentences set aside and replaced with 12 years impr.	1/12/87
Johan Christiaan Wessels	V3615	Bloemfontein	2/10/86	Smuts	Executed	26/11/87
Jerome Debishire	V3621	Johannesburg	17/10/86	Stegmann	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	23/11/87
James Dladla	V3623	Johannesburg	17/10/86	Stegmann	Appeal succeeds; conviction and sentence set aside	23/11/87
William Harris	V3625	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Brian Meiring	V3626	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Christoffel Michaels	V3627	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Herold Japhta	V3628	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Jan Swartbooi	V3629	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Pieter Botha	V3630	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Anthony Morgan	V3631	Cape Town	8/10/86	Van den Heever	Executed	9/12/87
Gerald Zibanile Njilo	V3636	Scottburg	31/10/86	Law	Executed	6/11/87
Joseph Gcabashe	V3663	Scottburg	12/12/86	Broome	Executed	10/12/87
Mnuxa Jerome Gcaba	V3664	Scottburg	12/12/86	Broome	Executed	10/12/87
Jomyt Mbele	V3680	Tzaneen	29/1/87	Curlewis	Executed	3/12/87
Case Rabutla	V3681	Tzaneen	29/1/87	Curlewis	Executed	3/12/87
Clifton Phaswa	V3682	Tzaneen	29/1/87	Curlewis	Executed	3/12/87
Jim Kgethang Mokwena	V3695	Johannesburg	27/2/87	Vermooten	Executed	26/11/87
Mlungisi Luphondo	V3705	Grahamstown	5/3/87	Cloete	Executed	6/11/87
Siphiwo Mjuza	V3721	Cape Town	6/3/87	Lategan	Executed	10/12/87
Stanley Allen Hansen	V3747	Swellendam	8/5/87	Friedman	Executed	8/12/87
John Louw	V3748	Cape Town	8/5/87	Tebbutt	Executed	20/11/87
Andries Njele	V3752	Johannesburg	20/5/87	De Klerk	Executed	10/12/87
David Mkumbeni	V3753	Johannesburg	20/5/87	De Klerk	Executed	10/12/87
Nicholas Phopho Khupula	V3767	Johannesburg	12/6/87	Van Dyk	Executed	5/11/87
Nicolas Prins	V3768	Cape Town	9/6/87	Williamson	Executed	8/12/87
Sizwe Goodchild Leve	V3769	Cape Town	27/5/87	Nel	Executed	8/12/87
Stanley Smit	V3770	Cape Town	5/6/87	Munnik	Executed	8/12/87
Willem Maarman	V3771	Cape Town	4/6/87	Van Heerden	Executed	10/12/87
Whanto Silinga	V3793	Port Alfred	24/6/87	Kroon	Died of natural causes	10/12/87
Zinakile Matshisi	V3817	Potchefstroom	20/8/87	Hartzenberg	Commuted to 15 years imprisonment	30/11/87

When he had finished reading, the Judge slowly put the schedule down on the bench. He put his hands under his chin and leaned on his fists, elbows on the table, and rocked slowly. I waited for him to make eye contact, the signal that I could resume the examination-in-chief, but still he gave no sign that he was ready.

At last he leaned forward and spoke under his breath. ‘They gave them four for the first three weeks of the month, and then they gave them thirty-two for the next two. What were they thinking?’

Labuschagne answered, even though the question must have been rhetorical and not meant for his ears. ‘I don’t know, sir. We asked the Major what was going on. He said that the Minister of Justice had been too busy with other things to sign the documents.’

James Murray was quickly on his feet to object, but Judge van Zyl stopped him. ‘I did not intend to ask a question.’ I was still standing. ‘Carry on,’ he said.

‘Mr Labuschagne, could you please tell the Court what happened on the twentieth of November?’

‘Just a moment,’ said the Judge. He still had the sheet we had given him in his hand. ‘Did you say that there were thirty-three new admissions in the six weeks before the tenth December and another nine after that, to the seventeenth?’

The magnitude of the operations at Maximum was beginning to filter through at last.

Labuschagne stood upright, in the fashion of a soldier, with his hands resting on the wooden sides of the witness box and his face raised to meet the scrutiny of the Judge, apparently at ease with the subject matter of the questioning.

Look up at the Judge. Watch his pen. Stop when you see him taking a note. When he stops writing, carry on. Don’t be in a hurry.

I repeated my question. ‘What happened on the twentieth of November last year?’

‘We first had a hanging and then we had to take six prisoners to the office. We told them to pack their stuff and took them to the office.’

I turned to the bench before I spoke again. ‘M’Lord, we are going to have to start using names from here on.’

The Judge pondered the issue for a while and then, after conferring briefly with his Assessors, said, ‘Be careful how you do it.’

Labuschagne did not have to look at the register. ‘We took Tshuma, Moatche, Burger, Scheepers, Wessels and Mokwena.’

I saw some movement at the prosecution table and hesitated before I asked the next question. Sanet Niemand was talking to the man sitting behind her. I had forgotten about him.

‘So what happened at the office?’ I asked, keeping an eye on the prosecution table. The discussion became more animated. James Murray rose to object. I sat down quickly.

‘We object to this evidence,’ he said as soon as he was on his feet. ‘It is not relevant to any issue at this trial. It also deals with matters that are protected by public interest privilege.’

I was ready as soon as he sat down. Wierda and I had prepared for every possible objection, including this one. I had the law and our argument ready and knew that an experienced judge would give us free rein in a case like this.

‘We submit firstly,’ I argued, ‘that the evidence is relevant to the defendant’s state of mind. Any event that took place in the days preceding the events of the tenth of December last year and that had or might have had an effect on the defendant’s state of mind as it was at the time is relevant. Secondly, we submit that the privilege claimed by the prosecution does not cover this situation but cases where the identity of an informer needs to be protected. We would suggest that Your Lordship should allow the evidence to be presented on a provisional basis. The Court may determine its relevance and admissibility at the end of the case when all the other evidence has been led and the importance of this evidence has been explained by the expert witnesses we intend to call.’

Judge van Zyl pondered the matter. I was afraid that he would rule against us and added, ‘We have to use the names, M’Lord. To the defendant these were real people, not just numbers as they might be to us.’

I repeated the question. ‘Mr Labuschagne, I asked you to tell the Court what happened at that meeting when you took the six prisoners to the office on the twentieth of November.’

Labuschagne shifted uncomfortably in the witness box. Something had unsettled him. Perhaps it was the man behind the prosecutors.

‘The Sheriff read them their letters and told them what was going to happen.’

While Labuschagne was answering I whispered to Wierda, ‘Who’s the man behind the prosecutors?’

Wierda leaned back to see behind me, and then he scribbled on a piece of paper: The Warrant Officer.

‘What did the State President decide to do in these cases?’ I asked Labuschagne. I took a closer look at the Warrant Officer: brown suit, late forties, military bearing, closely cropped hair, thinning on top. Ruddy complexion of an alcoholic. Broad, strong hands. Otherwise anyone’s uncle.

‘Tshuma and Burger were reprieved and the other four were going to be hanged.’

Labuschagne again glanced at the Warrant Officer before he spoke. ‘He dealt with each prisoner separately. We took them into the office one by one. He told the four they were to be hanged on the twenty-sixth.’

‘The admin people took over and asked the ones to be hanged for the details of their relatives so that they could be informed. They then sent them tickets to come for a final visit and for the funeral service.’

That did not account for Tshuma and Burger. Labuschagne must have read my thoughts and added, ‘The other two were transferred out to Central.’

‘We took their measurements.’ Labuschagne used we, hiding in the collective. I suppose I would have been slow to admit my involvement if I had been in his shoes.

‘The Warrant Officer and I took them,’ he added when I was slow with my next question.

‘What measurements did you take?’ I hurried the questions so that he wouldn’t have time for intrigue or scheming before answering.

‘We first weighed them without their shoes. The Warrant Officer wrote down their weight. I measured their height, from the floor up to behind the ear. Then I measured their necks.’

I decided to test him. ‘How did it feel, measuring their necks, when you had known them for so long?’

I let him off the hook. ‘What happened after these tasks had been completed?’

‘We took Moatche and Mokwena to the Pot in A1. Wessels and Scheepers were taken back to C Section.’

‘Yes.’ He looked at me and, when I did not follow up on his answer, continued on his own. ‘Moatche asked me why he was going to be hanged if Tshuma had been reprieved. He said the whole thing had been Tshuma’s idea, to rob passengers on the train. I told him I did not know, but it was the same for Burger and Scheepers. One was reprieved and the other one was to be hanged.’

‘I went to our archives section and I read Moatche’s case record. And after that I started reading some of the others. I tried to work out why some were reprieved and some were not. But I just got confused. It did not make much sense to me.’

‘We went back to our normal duties, guarding the prisoners, taking them for family visits and so on. In the Pot they could talk and sing and we read the Bible with them and tried to keep them calm.’ There was a pause. ‘And we serviced the gallows equipment.’

It was time for the tea break. ‘Would this be a convenient time, M’Lord?’ I asked, and inclined my head towards the clock.

The Judge glanced up from his papers and said, ‘Yes. The Court will adjourn for half an hour.’

It had started raining, so we walked around in the atrium. Round and round we went, with Wierda alternatively telling me about the next case and the features of the building.

The central atrium was about sixty metres long and thirty wide. A very large copper chandelier hung directly under the cupola. I calculated that there were a hundred and twelve marble columns in the atrium; they formed a natural pathway along the outer perimeter and in two places their placement created passages across. Wierda and I traipsed along these paths on marble tiles of black, grey, ivory, red and brown. Heavy wooden benches were arranged between the columns as public seating and Wierda and I eventually sat down under an alcove with a bust of E J P Jorissen, the Transvaal Republic’s Secretary of Justice and a contemporary of Wierda’s great-grandfather.

I leaned back against the wall and stretched my legs. There was some intricate relief work on the ceiling at least fifteen metres above the floor: a boy and a girl sitting back to back with a globe on a pedestal between them. The girl held an open book, ready with her pen to record the verdict; the boy held the scales of justice and was checking whether they were in balance.

I wondered if we could make them coincide in our case, but in the relief above our heads they were facing away from each other.

Palace of Justice

28