Collateral damage
FW’S concern about a possible right-wing uprising was not for nothing, and radical elements within both the defence force and the right-wing underground caused him to sleep poorly at night.
He was not comfortable with his own security forces, and not confident that he would have the support of the defence force and police should the right-wingers become restive and start a violent unprising. In an extremely subtle war of words, threats of a bloody rebellion regularly reached FW’s ears from political platforms.
Early in 1992, the so-called ‘Inner Circle’ had begun sending threatening letters to ministers and key figures in the NP government. There was speculation that this was nothing more than a scare campaign, but some viewed it as a warning, designed to intimidate FW and his team of negotiators at CODESA.
The fact is, in addition to the pressure exerted by the ANC, FW was being placed under increasing pressure by the right wing and his security forces.
This must have troubled him immensely, because, throughout his political career, he had not enjoyed strong links or a good relationship with the South African security forces. In fact, he had always kept his distance from the securocrats and the country’s generals – until, as state president, he also had to assume supreme command of the defence force.
On 16 March 1992, the ministry of law and order received the first of a series of threatening letters from the Inner Circle. It was addressed to the minister, Hernus Kriel, and was sent to his postbox at parliament in Cape Town.
Every time that you support the CODESA negotiations, you will be reminded that another circle exists. It is the Inner Circle, a well-structured group of former members of the South African Defence Force, Military Intelligence, special forces, police task force, security police and the National Intelligence Service.
As a formal covert group, we have observed your political initiatives over the past 18 months with growing concern. We are prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt and offer you the chance to prove your sincerity by negotiating a feasible alternative for a new South Africa.
Until such time as progress has been made, under pressure from the ANC and the shameful appointment of Roelf Meyer as Minister of Defence, we will not consider utilising the considerable abilities of our resources (to which the general staff of the defence force, the police and senior management of National Intelligence can testify, having made use of them previously and continuing to do so) but, as the command cell, we have no other choice but to warn that we will not allow our families and our country to be handed over to a communist-controlled CODESA, an interim government or the ANC.
We insist, most earnestly, that you consider your position very carefully, because as a group, we have committed ourselves under oath to the following:
Should you ever leave South Africa after surrendering the country to communists in order to settle elsewhere in the world, even if only for a brief period or holiday, we will hunt you and your family down wherever you are, and wipe you out.
If you continue to ignore the growing concern of the silent majority of people who refuse to bow down to communism, we will unleash our ability to wage a war of attrition against you that will be incomparable to anything on earth.
The members of the Inner Circle are committed to this country for which we have given our blood and our lives, while most of you, and your children, stayed home or spent time at your own request, as indicated in our files, in relatively safe environs such as choirs in which the new Minister of Defence so tellingly served. [It was public knowledge that Roelf Meyer had spent his period of national service in the air force choir, known as the Canaries.]
We are by no means taking matters lightly and nor should you. In order to avoid bloodletting in the country and for the sake of both your and our good health, TURN AWAY from the path that you are currently on, or face the consequences.
Such intimidation campaigns, rumblings in right-wing circles and rumours of dissent in the security forces did not pass unnoticed in the corridors of power. The right-wing threat, and claims that a large number of security force members supported it, gave the government serious cause for concern.
They were indeed between a rock and a hard place. At CODESA and on public platforms, the ANC constantly complained about the ongoing violence and accused the NP government of deliberately doing nothing to stem it. On trains around the Witwatersrand there were daily attacks, and in Natal Inkatha relentlessly targeted ANC supporters.
FW almost certainly believed that he had plucked out the heart of the whore in December 1992, when he had purged his defence force of ‘renegades’ at DCC, and that the new year would bring peace and a positive atmosphere at CODESA.
But two horrific incidents in mid-1993 and an ensuing bloody balls-up by the government would drastically complicate negotiations and weaken the NP’s position still further. Ironically, all three events could probably have been avoided if FW had not decided the previous Christmas to disband his defence force’s covert intelligence arm.
On Sunday 25 July, while the evening service was in progress, a gang of heavily armed APLA cadres entered the St James Church in Kenilworth, Cape Town, and opened fire on the congregation. The next attack, shortly afterwards and not far from the first, took place at the Heidelberg Tavern in nearby Observatory, where pub patrons were mowed down.
The public called for retribution, and the government realised that it would have to act against APLA bases in order to prevent more bloodshed.
On 8 October, a defence force Special Forces team was sent to Umtata where, under cover of darkness, they stormed an APLA ‘safe house’ in AC Jordan Street and killed everyone inside. To put it mildly, it was a gigantic fuck-up.
It wasn’t an APLA hiding-place after all, and the assault force shot dead five children as they lay sleeping.
Among the soldiers FW had sacked the previous year were senior intelligence agents who had worked on the PAC desk at the Directorate Covert Collection. They had informants and agents in APLA’s underground structures, and would almost certainly have received advance knowledge of possible attacks. With the help of well-placed sources, they would also have been able to identify the true location of APLA safe houses in the Transkei.
For several months the sacked DCC members had waited quietly to see what would happen to them, but in February 1994 they decided to break their silence. In an exclusive interview with me, some of them accused the government of directly linking their dismissal to the bloody surge of violence throughout the country.
South Africa’s first democratic elections were approaching, and FW and his government were becoming panic-stricken about the violence that simply could not be brought under control.
The DCC members told me that the unstoppable flow of illegal weapons to the battlefields of Natal and the East Rand, as well as to underground right-wing groups, could be ascribed to the dismantling of DCC.
‘The government did the country a terrible disservice by curtailing DCC’s functions,’ a senior spokesman explained to me in the presence of a delegation of sacked members.
‘The situation can never be restored, because the irreparable damage and thousands of dead that have turned South Africa in recent years into the most violent country in the world are directly linked to the flood of illegal weapons due to inadequate intelligence within the security forces.’
The words of the DCC members were not yet cold when I was contacted by concerned right-wingers, who wanted to talk to me in utmost secrecy. It was obvious that they feared for their lives, and first wanted an assurance from me that their identities would be protected.
It then emerged that one person had been authorised to speak to me by a group within the Inner Circle. Their reason for revealing certain secret plans was the fear that the monster that had helped create them was getting out of control. They feared a bloody civil war ‘within weeks or even days’, they explained.
From our discussions it became clear that the underground planning to which they referred was in the hands of the Afrikaner Volksfront’s military wing. The AV was a highly responsible organisation that had distanced itself from Eugene Terre’Blanche and the brandy-and-Coke squad of the Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB). Under the leadership of a popular and highly respected former defence force chief, General Constand Viljoen, the AV consisted largely of a section of the country’s farming community, which had previously held protest actions against the government’s reform process under the aegis of the Boere Crisis Action.
There was, indeed, a terrifying secret plan to seize control, violently if need be, of key towns and cities throughout the country at a specific juncture. Bear in mind, all those farmers, and most other AV members, were trained soldiers who had served through the years as national servicemen and Citizen Force members. Many had seen action on the battlefields of Angola.
They claimed that the AV had infiltrated the intelligence services of the security forces to such an extent that they would have ample early warning of any planned police raids on their cell structures.
They also explained that the depth and width of support and sympathy within the security forces for their objectives had made it easy for them to stash weapons and meet clandestinely. ‘Sometimes we sit in cafes and laugh at them as the security police storm into towns to carry out raids.’
They claimed that large caches of arms and ammunition, including armoured vehicles, had been hidden on farms between Brits and Thabazimbi. From the beginning of 1994, the organisers had stopped sleeping on their own farms in order to make it more difficult for the police to pick them up. Telephones were used only in extreme emergencies, and all communication was in code.
Although planning for the armed uprising had begun in earnest ten months earlier, the end of 1993 saw a feverish rush to finalise the plan.
The concerned group made it clear to me that they still supported the concept of an independent homeland, but were no longer convinced that an uprising was the way to go.
Their fears had been fuelled by right-wing politicians who spouted talk of violence at public gatherings, but hadn’t the faintest idea of the extent of underground planning that was taking place under their very noses. When certain individuals began to grasp the full implications of an armed uprising, however, they started getting cold feet.
I was told that the government takeover had already been planned down to the finest detail. The underground structures consisted of civilian and military wings. The civilian wing in each region would be responsible, under the protection of the military wing, for appointing a citizens’ council of fifteen men to replace the existing town council and local government.
More than fifty-two towns and cities formed part of the plan, with the Western Transvaal (North West province) and the Bushveld most strongly represented. The district of Brits was considered the best-organised region, with 700 ready and willing ‘troops’.
The first phase of the lightning campaign would see all police stations in the target area neutralised and taken over. The Brits target area had five police stations. These would be taken over by ‘sympathetic serving and retired police officers’.
Brits had already been divided into four regions under a single commander who, in turn, would receive his orders from the high commander. The regions were Beestekraal, Wenholt, Mooinooi and the town itself.
All over the Western Transvaal, planning meetings were held at night under strict security measures, and every member was electronically searched for bugging equipment or tape recorders.
The plan was that, as soon as the order was issued to move into action, sixteen roadblocks would be set up in the Brits region. Heaps of sand for sandbags had already been offloaded next to the roads at demarcated points. Bulldozers and trucks had been parked and hidden nearby for rapid deployment.
Once the target areas had been taken overnight, the towns and cities would be sealed off from the outside world for three days. This would be regarded as the ‘cooling-off period’, when black townships and internal resistance would be ‘brought under control’.
This had to be done with minimum force. At this time, too, the leaders would appeal to the police and defence force to join the rebellion.
I was told that the networks planned to use deadly cyanide bullets to quell any resistance in black townships as quickly as possible. Further inquiries in this regard referred to ballistic and chemical experts at the police forensic laboratory revealed that the addition of cyanide to a bullet would be lethal.
A hole would simply be drilled into the bullet point, the poison injected and the cavity sealed with a plastic plug. The victim’s unbearable agony would serve as a deterrent for any further resistance.
Confronted with these allegations, AV spokesman Stephan Manninger did not exactly deny the underground activities, but said he was not aware of them. However, this did not mean that he was not alert to and deeply worried that something of this nature was on the cards, he said.
‘We have to avoid a Bosnia-type situation in the country at all cost.’ But he expressed his understanding for the impotent frustration of those on the ground who felt that the negotiations ‘cannot produce a positive outcome’.
He said the greatest fear of the AV was that the gatvol factor would see matters spiral out of control. ‘We have warned that we do not want to become part of the problem before we’ve been given the chance to be part of the solution. Do not force us to become part of the problem,’ Manninger warned.
There were not enough Rennies on earth for the heartburn FW suffered over the right-wing underground’s plans, and on top of everything, the general staff of his defence force had more fuel to add to the fire.
At just about the same time that the right-wingers were finalising plans to overthrow his government, FW’s generals requested a meeting with him. They warned him that the security situation in the country was on a knife-edge, and that right-wing groups in particular could provoke widespread violence, even an attempted coup, at any moment.
Should this happen, said the generals, a significant number of military officers and troops could be expected to actively support the dissidents rather than remaining loyal to the government. I was told that in security circles, the expectation was that up to 60 per cent of the security forces – or more – would turn their backs on FW.
The crisis was exacerbated when General Constand Viljoen said in a radio interview: ‘A government would have to scrape the barrel to muster enough defence force members to act against right-wingers.’ It was clear that Viljoen was confident of the support he could muster. He was one of the best-loved military leaders of his time, a true soldier’s soldier who enjoyed the respect of virtually every troop and officer who had served in the Angolan conflict. Thousands of veterans and still-serving defence force members had followed him without question during that war, and many would willingly have done so again.
There was never any doubt that FW took his generals seriously. The government took their warning to heart and regarded it in a grave light. No one questioned the veracity of the general staff’s caveat, and according to military experts it was never the intention of the generals to present the government with a different agenda. They simply gave FW a factual assessment of the situation.
The right-wingers fully expected the government to launch an internment campaign prior to the elections in order to confine defence force and police members to camps so as to counter any possible uprising. There was a strong feeling that dissident serving defence force members and pensioners who had been involved for years in covert anti-ANC intelligence structures, such as the CCB, DCC, Military Intelligence, Koevoet and Vlakplaas, would be targeted for internment. Right-wingers said it was significant that numerous police investigations were under way against suspected activists, yet no one was arrested. They anticipated that, at a given moment, the police would initiate a widespread swoop on suspects – on the strength of piles of dossiers – in an attempt to thwart a violent takeover. And that is exactly what happened.
Few people appreciated just how close the country truly was to a bloody civil war that night in 1994 when, literally minutes before registration closed for political parties taking part in the general election, General Viljoen decided to go to the polls rather than follow the path of armed resistance. His last-minute decision effectively defused a situation that would otherwise have plunged the country into a bloodbath overnight.
Meanwhile, the ANC had not been angelically idle. They were furiously busy behind the scenes, gathering information about the dirty tricks and disinformation campaigns perpetrated against them by the security forces.
To this end, agents of the ANC’s intelligence division, the Department of Intelligence and Security (DIS), had no compunction about pulling dirty tricks of their own against the enemy. Judging by documents that fell into the hands of NI, blackmail was but one of the methods used by DIS to collect sensitive information that could be used against FW and his security forces in the merciless propaganda battle between ‘us’ and ‘them’.
On 31 March 1994, DG Grewar, deputy director-general of NI, sent an official letter to police commissioner Lieutenant General Johan van der Merwe, to which he attached a copy of a document that appeared to have been drawn up by the ANC in order to ‘persuade’ members of the intelligence community to cooperate with the organisation.
Dear General
Attached is a copy of correspondence received by a retired senior member of the National Intelligence Service.
The document purports to be from an ANC Working Group and contains, inter alia, threats that it would not be in the recipient’s best interest for the contents to be made known to anyone else. A copy of the document has also been sent to the ANC.
The deputy director-general of NI, Mr DG Grewar, would like to discuss this matter with you at your convenience.
When the threatening letter was sent out, a whole group of former police officers had already made their way to Shell House in Johannesburg and spilled their guts to the ANC. Among them were the late General Jaap Joubert, former national chief of detectives, who had been appointed to oversee the investigation of the CCB by Brigadier Floris Mostert and his team; Dirk Coetzee, John Horak, Martin Dolinchek and Brigadier R McIntyre.
The letter that Grewar sent Van der Merwe and the ANC had been addressed to Paul Gough, retired senior NI member, and it was obvious that they wanted to recruit him so that, like the above-mentioned ‘joiners’, they could acquire sensitive information. The letter said:
We, former members of the security forces and the ANC, attach a document for your information. As a veteran intelligence man you will immediately appreciate the value of the information in the enclosed document.
This document is being made available to you so that you can grasp the full implications of the proposal that we have for you. You should also note that there are members and former members of the security forces who have placed their formidable capacity at our disposal.
We have irrefutable proof of your involvement in the case of Ishmael Ebrahim and the fact that you were involved in a conspiracy to murder him. However, we are concerned with investigations into heinous and even more serious crimes in which NI was involved and we believe that you might be able to assist us in this regard.
We are prepared to offer total amnesty, protection and any guarantees you might deem necessary. We are also convinced that you will be able to make a valuable contribution to a future intelligence industry.
However, you should be aware that disclosure of this document to anyone else would not be to your advantage. Kindly consider the proposals carefully. We will be in touch with you telephonically.
The letter was signed by someone on behalf of the so-called ANC Working Group.
The attachment that was sent to Gough was marked Top Secret, and headed: Pre-election strategy: Isolation of FW de Klerk, key ministers and senior government officials. The contents were as follows:
The strategy that we have implemented has proved successful and it is vital that we exploit the opportunities at our disposal in the coming weeks.
We have successfully persuaded various former members of the police, the defence force and NI to confess to the gruesome deeds that they carried out in the past. Comrade Mandela has guaranteed them total indemnity and full recognition of their disclosures about past unlawful acts, as well as those they are still involved in.
These members have been made available to the Goldstone Commission, and this has led to the current revelations, which have totally driven a wedge between the police and FW de Klerk.
In the wake of the disclosures we have been approached by various members and former members of the security forces and NI who are willing to testify, provided they are granted indemnity, their positions are assured and all pension and medical benefits are guaranteed.
These people include Lt Gen Jaap Joubert, Brig McIntyre, Brig Paul Abrie, Botes (ex-CCB), who were in positions that saw them involved in and with access to operations that will see far more exposed than what [sic] the Goldstone Commission has uncovered.
We have already approached Judge Goldstone to find out if it is possible that the evidence of these witnesses can be used during current investigations. The judge is prepared to accommodate us as far as possible, but has indicated that his mandate is limited and that he has already heard testimony that exceeds his mandate.
The following strategy will therefore be presented to Comrade Mandela for consideration. However, it cannot be emphasised enough that if even the slightest leak about the strategy occurs, the entire plan could face ruin.
STRATEGY
The evidence at our disposal must be carefully protected and preserved. Sufficient funds must be made available to ensure witnesses do not get cold feet. Judge Goldstone is willing to assist us as far as possible in this regard.
If used strategically and correctly, the evidence available to us will totally destroy the following people and must, therefore, effectively neutralise the National Party and its current election campaign: FW de Klerk, Pik Botha, Gerrit Viljoen, Dawie de Villiers, Kobie Coetsee, Adriaan Vlok, Roelf Meyer, Hernus Kriel, Johan van der Merwe, Niel Barnard, Mike Louw, Kat Liebenberg.
The list also includes retired generals who do not presently occupy key roles and are thus not really of interest.
The following is confirmed and FW de Klerk can thus be confronted publicly with it.
• The security branch, NI and MI were, and remain, actively involved in the collection of information, including technical surveillance, related purely to the political activities and strategy of the ANC and other organisations. This information continues to be presented at regular intervals to the Security Council and the cabinet. These operations are conducted with the ongoing knowledge of FW de Klerk and other members of the aforementioned council and cabinet.
• Kat Liebenberg, Johan van der Merwe and Niel Barnard were involved in a project to eliminate so-called radical political leaders. We are in possession of various sworn statements that will be made available to Judge Goldstone. However, it is not clear whether or not the judge will be permitted to investigate these matters within the existing parameters of his mandate.
• Niel Barnard ordered the abduction of Comrade Ishmael Ebrahim, with the clear understanding that he was to be killed after interrogation. The reason for this was to protect the NI agent, Thami Zulu, in Switzerland. Lt Gen Jaap Joubert raised his objection to the plan, however, and the police were eventually forced to charge Comrade Ebrahim and take him to court. There is a good chance that Paul Gough, a retired member of NI, can be persuaded to corroborate Gen Joubert’s evidence if he is offered a senior position in a new intelligence structure.
• It is also possible that Niel Barnard can be convinced that he should break away from the present regime and align himself openly with the ANC’s efforts to get rid of rebel groups in the defence force and NI. However, we would have to make the first approach to Barnard, and due to the fact that this could easily blow up in our faces, it would have to be done in such a way that he could not point a finger at us.
• FW de Klerk and Kobie Coetsee were fully informed about all the activities of the CCB long before their heinous crimes were exposed by the Harms commission.
• Pik Botha was involved in a love affair with a woman in Johannesburg. Niel Barnard was ordered by PW Botha to get rid of Pik and a covert operation was set in motion by NI in accordance with his wishes. Sworn affidavits containing all the details are available [according to the report].
• During the recent transfer of power in Walvis Bay, Kobie Coetsee slept with another woman. Sworn statements are available.
• FW de Klerk and Hernus Kriel had major differences about NP policy and following Kriel’s recent divorce, Kobie Coetsee was told to get rid of Kriel. Coetsee used NI to tap Kriel’s telephones and it was established that he was involved in an extramarital relationship that had started before he was divorced. Possibly because of Coetsee’s own culpability in such an affair, he did not use this information against Kriel.
• Adriaan Vlok has been implicated in various acts of sabotage and murder carried out by the security branch. Sworn statements are available.
• The telephones of various senior government officials are being tapped by NI on the instructions of Kobie Coetsee. Full details are available.
In order to get maximum results and the greatest advantage from this evidence, it should be handled as follows:
• Matters not related to horror deeds and irregular activity by FW de Klerk should be placed at the disposal of Anton Harber [former editor of the Weekly Mail] along with the sworn statements. He is willing to publish the information on condition that the ANC supports him financially in the event of legal action.
• All information relating to horror deeds and irregular activity by FW de Klerk will be disclosed at a media conference by Comrade Mandela and other top ANC leaders. After this, developments will be closely monitored and Comrade Mandela and all ANC leaders should continually appeal to serving and former members of the security forces and NI to come forward and confess the horrendous deeds of the past, offering the clear assurance that they will be granted full indemnity and protection. In the current climate, the chances are good that more members and former members will respond – particularly in the case of the police, who have been totally overwhelmed by revelations before the Goldstone commission.
• FW de Klerk and the others will undoubtedly deny the allegations against them. They must be offered the chance to do so often, then challenged to submit to polygraph tests to disprove the allegations against them.
• There is no doubt that such a challenge will be rejected and in all probability they will offer arguments about the unreliability of the polygraph. However, we have extensive access to scientific researchers who are capable of dismissing all such excuses. We also have sworn affidavits to the effect that members of NI are regularly subjected to polygraph tests, with Kobie Coetsee’s approval.
• In the highly unlikely event that they accept the challenge, we have more than enough acceptable evidence to confront them with facts that they would not be able to deny. They would unquestionably fail such polygraph tests.
It is not known whether or not the ANC responded to Grewar’s inquiries about this document.
As the general election crept ever closer, the police generals and members of the security branch became increasingly nervous, since it was obvious that nothing was being done about the question of general amnesty. The hapless Kobie Coetsee folded completely, and Roelf Meyer was too much of a lightweight to save the day.
On 12 April 1994, the police played their last card before the election, using Peter-Don Brandt, national secretary of the newly established South African Police Union (SAPU), to place pressure on FW as a last resort:
Dear President
In my capacity as national secretary of SAPU and in keeping with a request that I should act as an intermediary, I wish to address this correspondence to you. I trust that you will appreciate the sensitive nature of this matter and that it will consequently enjoy your personal attention.
It has come to SAPU’s attention that there is a large group of members who, in the light of current circumstances, are giving serious consideration to the disclosure of highly sensitive information, should the question of amnesty not receive urgent attention. It has also come to SAPU’s attention that should such information be made public, it would implicate cabinet ministers, among others.
Since SAPU has warned on previous occasions that the question of amnesty for members of the SAP demands attention, SAPU fully understands the fears of especially former security branch members and serving members of specialist units.
It is common knowledge in informed circles that from the late eighties to about the middle of 1991, the SAP was required to carry out secret strategic projects. This involvement was authorised at the highest level and was regarded as an essential countermeasure against the revolutionary onslaught. Furthermore, it is readily accepted in police circles that during that period, members of the SAP might have taken part in operations that are not condoned by law.
We are fully aware that you can do only that which your office allows, but the current situation is becoming increasingly volatile and there is an urgent need to defuse it. Members are desperate to secure their careers and future and do not wish to leave this in the hands of an ANC-dominated government.
An offer has already been made that would allow them to apply for amnesty but this would mean that their names would be published, which would be damning with a view to the future.
In addition, the members are of the opinion that they acted purely on the orders and in the interest of the state and that it is grossly unfair to expect them now to apply for amnesty as individuals.
It is wholly unacceptable that ANC members who murdered and maimed defenceless women and children in cold blood currently hold positions at various public institutions, while the Goldstone Commission is persecuting members of the security forces who placed their futures on the line in the interest of state security.
We would appreciate it if you could give this matter your urgent attention and furnish us with a response so that we can determine how to proceed in protecting the interests of our members.
The police had good reason to be worried. There were too many skeletons in the closet to keep the doors closed forever. History ultimately confirmed this through the ghastly deeds that were rolled out, piece by piece, during Eugene de Kock’s trial and at the TRC, and the greatest fear of the police was that if such information surfaced after the election, the ANC would make a feast out of revenge.
On the other hand, the police – and the defence force – were privy to terrible secrets about which ANC cadres had been on the payroll of the intelligence structures. These were the so-called impimpis, who had long sent a shudder down the collective spine of the ANC government every time someone threatened to make that list of names public.
It was fairly general knowledge, and the ANC was thoroughly aware, that the security police, Military Intelligence and NI had built up a formidable network of informers within ANC structures both in South Africa and abroad over the years. And the collaborators were not confined to foot soldiers. Some were extremely high up in the ANC hierarchy, hence the fear in ANC ranks that one day someone would release that list.
That there are still people who have copies of the list – complete with informer numbers and details – is a certainty. Fortunately for the ANC, those who control access to the lists are responsible individuals, otherwise chaos would long since have reigned in government ranks.
It is entirely likely that, over the years, there have been high-level talks between the ANC and people like ex-commissioner Johan van der Merwe and his generals about the handling of the impimpi lists, because whenever threats to go public bubble to the surface, there is tough and desperate caucusing behind closed doors until calm is once again restored.
The old NP regime sacrificed the security forces to the endless but empty promises of FW and his ministers in a policy of appeasement to ensure a peaceful and controlled transition.
In 2002, Anthony C LoBaido conducted interviews in South Africa with former members of the security forces and the department of foreign affairs for WorldNetDaily.com.
An ex-colonel from 32 Battalion told LoBaido there was no doubt that if the generals had stayed true to their commissions – their oath to serve their country rather than the National Party – they would almost certainly have been able to stop FW and his ‘traitors to the nation’, because they were fully aware of developments.
‘Unfortunately for the country and its future, their salaries and benefits took precedence over the interests of the country and its people. If one looks at the pension packages that these spineless officers received – they were decommissioned with massive payments far above normal pension benefits – they blatantly betrayed their commissions.
‘Of all the options that De Klerk had, they went for the worst one – total capitulation, as dictated by the UN, the American state department and the British foreign office.’
A former senior official with the strategic communication section at the department of foreign affairs described the situation to LoBaido as follows:
‘De Klerk was never really involved with the security forces and the security system. He readily accepted the propaganda put out by the mass media, which was aimed at discrediting the state security system. De Klerk was naive, and he believed he would be the hero of the world for dismantling the state apparatus. He was, and continues to be, the darling of the world for that.
‘The generals were loyal to the constitution, and it would never have entered their heads to overthrow the De Klerk government. In both cases, it was a mistake. De Klerk should have kept the state apparatus intact until the end of the political negotiation process and the generals, when they saw capitulation looming, should have seized control so that a more equitable dispensation could have been negotiated.’
Another senior officer and former air force pilot confirmed to WorldNet-Daily that the generals would never have carried out a coup d’état. Their attitude was that they had bought time for the politicians throughout the bush war in order for a political strategy and policy to be put in place.
In 1989, FW addressed his generals at the Phalaborwa military base and told them that he was taking over in order to continue waging the political war. A general and personal friend told me afterwards that the generals who attended the meeting unanimously agreed that FW didn’t understand the situation at all, and, from that point on, would disregard both his generals and Military Intelligence.
‘He did, and he lost,’ was the officer’s final word on the situation.
Tragically, many others lost as well, and with the dawn of democracy’s second decade it had become abundantly clear that, freedom and the franchise aside, a vast number of South Africans had lost far more than they gained.
Thanks to Constand Viljoen’s dramatic eleventh-hour decision to lead his right-wing followers to the polling booth rather than plunge the country into a bloody civil war, the transition from NP to ANC rule was generally peaceful. In time, the terrible ‘black-on-black’ violence that raged before the 1994 election abated. At every level of society, the last bastions of apartheid were systematically dismantled. In the sporting arena and every other field, the international community threw its doors open to South Africans. Suddenly we were welcome everywhere, and everyone was welcome in our country to witness the ‘miracle’ that had taken place on Africa’s southernmost tip against all odds: a negotiated political settlement, supported by a constitution that could serve as a model for the world.
Dirty tricks were out, transparent government was the order of the day. Vengeance made way for veracity; arch-enemies embraced one another as new friends – it was the high tide of hope and optimism; the Rainbow Nation was one.
But, no matter how sincere Nelson Mandela’s message of reconciliation was, no matter how fervently ordinary South Africans wanted to believe in a bright and better future, it wasn’t long before the first cracks appeared and, in due course, some of them deepened into ravines.
The so-called Government of National Unity – the very instrument that the Afrikaner Broederbond had envisaged hijacking in order to get its claws on power once again – saw its arse after little more than two years. The once omnipotent National Party simply faded away and, in 2004, finally disappeared. By then it had become evident that the sins of the ANC regime weren’t all that different from those of the NP. Corruption, nepotism, propaganda, promotion and economic progress for a small elite at the cost of the majority; self-enrichment, abuse of power, empty election promises followed by inadequate service delivery; protection of party luminaries guilty of irregularities, cover-ups of scandals – and yes, even a whole new range of dirty tricks aimed at discrediting and neutralising political opponents. The names and faces were new, but it was the same old story.
And, for some, life was in certain ways even harder than under apartheid. Crime, accompanied by unprecedented levels of brutality, stalked every citizen of the land. Unemployment and poverty were rampant, and despite constant reminders that the national economy was booming, foreign investment wasn’t forthcoming. While long-established industrial sectors such as clothing and textiles cut back operations dramatically, the private security sector burgeoned by the day, as individuals forked out millions in an effort to protect their lives and property from hijackers, robbers, rapists and wanton killers.
Criticism of the ANC government’s policies or lack of workable solutions for the AIDS pandemic, crime, housing shortages, health care, the uncontrolled deluge of illegal immigrants from other African states, public transport, an infrastructure that was steadily crumbling and numerous other everyday problems was often lambasted as racism or – twelve years after the ANC came into power – the heritage of apartheid.
As the ANC became embroiled in a fierce internal struggle over the choice of its future leaders, a small group of the new black elite, with fingers in every pie imaginable, became millionaires overnight. For many black Africans with the right struggle credentials, the new South Africa was paradise. But for many more, both black and white, the new dispensation that FW and his cronies had negotiated had little to offer in the way of a future.
It wasn’t long before some of the NP stalwarts, like Pik and Kortbroek van Schalkwyk, openly joined the ANC. Others simply vanished from the scene or watched from the sidelines – from wine farms in the Cape, townhouses on exclusive golf estates, or in gentrified coastal resorts – as the results of their handiwork unfolded.
Voices that had been raised for years in defence of apartheid fell silent. Principles for which other people’s children had to give their lives on the Cape Flats or the plains of Angola were suddenly no longer worth fighting for. Politicking made way for mute submission. It was just about impossible to find a single person who had ever voted for the NP.
The generals and ministers who had schemed and caucused to keep the former regime in power at all costs, folded up their tents and took the road from Total Onslaught to Total Surrender. The Dicks and Ferdies and Fatmen and Vinks of the past took their pension money and opened bed and breakfasts on the platteland or at the coast. And when tourists from abroad booked into their establishments, the hosts could not stop talking about how they, the ordinary citizens of the country, had never known about the human rights violations and horror deeds, or realised how much people in the townships had suffered, and isn’t it bloody marvellous that we are all free and equal at last?
And when the ANC showed signs from time to time of carrying out exactly the same dirty tricks that had marked the apartheid era – such as when Bulelani Ngcuka, the most senior prosecutor in South Africa, was accused of having been an impimpi, or when some of NI’s most senior officials concocted a sickening smear campaign against Jacob Zuma’s political opponents, or when Jackie Selebi refused to step down as police commissioner following revelations about his ‘close friendship’ with Glenn Agliotti, alleged Godfather of organised crime, a despairing and defeated people merely shook their heads and poured another brandy or cup of Rooibos.
The problem, of course, is that the past was not magically wiped out or buried under the multicoloured new South African flag. Reconciliation was not a fluffy down comforter that wafted over a country for which so much blood and sweat and tears had been shed. Anyone who thought that was what CODESA had been about was as seriously misguided as those who believed that democracy would mean a roof over the head of every individual, a car in the garage and a roast chicken on the table every Sunday. Reality seldom, if ever, resembles the dreams conjured up by political rhetoric.
Yet, sadly, there were opportunities for genuine unity that were rejected or lost, for reasons that might only become clear to future generations. One example was the official opening, on 16 December 2006, of the ANC’s Freedom Park in Pretoria.
Whether or not the SADF had fought a righteous war on the border and in Angola, an entire generation of white South African men would carry the physical and emotional scars for the rest of their lives, for no other reason than that they did not falter at their country’s call.
A heated response was thus to be expected when Dr Mongane Wally Serote announced towards the end of 2006 – ironically, on the Day of Reconciliation – that no fallen soldier from the old SADF would be honoured on the new Wall of Remembrance at Freedom Park in Pretoria.
‘Those South African soldiers did not fight for freedom,’ Serote said, while at the same time announcing that the names of Cubans who had died in Angola would indeed be added to the wall.
A stream of protest letters to newspapers after the announcement offered a distinct picture of the feelings of parents, relatives and friends of South African soldiers who had died during the bush war.
Dr (Lt Col) Koos Bezuidenhout of Florida wrote to Beeld, strongly objecting to the ‘political hypocrisy’ inherent in the government’s decision not to honour SADF soldiers who had died for their country. In his words: ‘At that time, I was forced to interrupt my studies and go and take part in the border war as a national serviceman. I was prepared to sacrifice my life for my country. Is that not the honourable way of serving one’s country?’
Bezuidenhout questioned the double standards of the government, which conveniently ignored the fact that ‘Cuban soldiers in Angola represented a repressive communist regime which continues – to put it mildly – to be guilty of gross human rights violations and the denial of freedom.’ A golden opportunity for reconciliation and nation-building had been squandered, Bezuidenhout wrote. ‘Instead,’ he said, ‘Serote will accomplish a deepening of division.’
Bezuidenhout was by no means alone in his opinion. Chris van der Merwe of Benoni’s words illustrated the great division that still existed in the new South Africa: ‘For me, this is the final proof that our government never had any intention of reconciling people, but has a deliberate plan to promote division and reverse racism ... After Pres Thabo Mbeki [said] that Freedom Park is there to unite our nation, suddenly there is no room for our people. And then they wonder why I will never go to any of the parks, gatherings or inaugurations, nor want to know anything about them; why I have developed an aversion to that group of gravy train passengers who call themselves the government.’
Many question marks still hang over incidents, documents, publications and television programmes that the lie factories of ComOps and StratCom presented to the world as truth under the banner of Total Onslaught. Some of this unfinished business may yet be concluded in time, but there is much about which we will probably never know the truth.
However, it is a matter of urgent necessity that efforts should continue to expose the secrets that lie at the core of our recent past. I have tried, in this book, to shed light on some of them, while other people have long been engaged in putting the jigsaw puzzle together, and will hopefully be able to add more pieces in future.
That is as it should be. But we also need to take great care that we do not become so absorbed with reconstructing the past that we lose sight of the present and, especially, the future. The National Party was able to get away for too long with sinister plans and programmes and propaganda, for the simple reason that it became too big; too strong, too powerful. The results were tragic.
It would be nothing less than catastrophic if the ANC were to be followed equally blindly, allowed to reign with an equal lack of accountability; left to govern just as arrogantly and in its own interest rather than that of the people.
South Africa’s citizens, all of them, are indeed, and finally, free. Perhaps the time has come for us to launch a Total Onslaught of our own, mindful of French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s words: ‘Man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains.’
We need to guard vigilantly against being trapped yet again in the chains and shackles forged on clandestine anvils by politicians who have no conscience, and their ever-willing collaborators. Because, in the words of the classic pop song, ‘Me and Bobby McGee’, freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.