President Cyril Ramaphosa’s announcement that the military is to be deployed to help combat gang violence and illegal mining in the Western Cape and Gauteng has been widely welcomed by both affected communities and opposition political parties.
That is hardly surprising: residents of townships and informal settlements on the Cape Flats have been terrorised by gangsters for years, with hardly a weekend going by without reports of innocent victims caught in the crossfire as rival gangs battle for territorial control to ply their criminal trade.
Similarly, traumatised communities in the vicinity of abandoned mines in Gauteng are being all but held hostage by illegal miners, who continue to act with apparent impunity.
Few would dispute the president’s statement in last week’s state of the nation address (Sona) that such organised crime is “the most immediate threat to our democracy, our society and our economic development”. Nor is he acting outside the bounds of the constitution, which permits the president, as commander-in-chief, to authorise the employment of the defence force “in co-operation with the police service”.
However, there is also good reason for disquiet over the decision, which amounts to an admission that policing in South Africa is in a state of crisis.
In line with constitutional requirements, Ramaphosa duly assured the nation that parliament will be formally informed of the timing, location, duration and cost of the deployment.
And as in previous internal deployments — such as the July 2021 unrest and, more recently, to combat illegal mining — the soldiers’ role will be restricted to supporting police operations, with soldiers providing perimeter control and handling logistics. Arrests and investigations remain the responsibility of the SAPS.
However, there is also good reason for disquiet over the decision, which amounts to an admission that policing in South Africa is in a state of crisis. It confirms the worst fears that have been stoked by the testimony of witnesses before the ongoing Madlanga commission of inquiry into criminality, political interference and corruption in the criminal justice system.
The demoralised SANDF is also arguably not equipped to perform even this limited role. Soldiers are trained for warfare, not law enforcement, and as during the troops’ deployment to enforce Covid-19 lockdowns, there is a high risk of abuses of power.
The use of soldiers to suppress crime is also not sustainable; organised criminals are quite capable of going underground temporarily — quite literally in the case of illegal miners — only to resume their nefarious activities when the troops are withdrawn.
This has been proven repeatedly through Operation Prosper, an initially temporary but now seemingly permanent deployment of troops in support of police that was launched in 2018. Incidents of serious crime were reduced briefly but soon resumed.
Root causes unaddressed
Such temporary relief will be welcomed by beleaguered communities, but the root causes of crime and contempt for the law — poverty, unemployment, poor service delivery and an entrenched culture of violence — will not be addressed simply by sending in the troops.
Ramaphosa has linked the military intervention to recommendations flowing from the Madlanga commission, including the implementation of lifestyle audits, re-vetting of senior police leadership and strengthened procurement oversight within the criminal justice system.
And he has acknowledged the need for socioeconomic interventions such as improved street lighting, expanded social services and community-based prevention programmes as part of a longer-term strategy to combat crime.
Unfortunately, the president’s track record of over-promising and under-delivering and announcing grand plans that do not materialise means few will take him at his word. Delivery and results are what count — and keep incumbent parties in power.
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