Segal, L. & Simpson, G. (1990). Off the Rails: Violence in the Railway Strike of 1987. Paper presented at ASSA conference, July.
Lauren Segal & Graeme Simpson
Paper presented at South African Sociological Association conference, July 1990.
Lauren Segal is a former Researcher at the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation.
Graeme Simpson is a founder and former Director of the Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation.
Introduction
The dramatic escalation of violence in South Africa's industrial arena during the mid-1980s has been well-documented in a variety of sources. Several authors have offered insightful explanations as to the causes of this violence, explanations which range from the deficiencies in the mechanisms for conflict resolution in industrial conflict (such as the absence of the right to picket), to the politicisation of the trade union movement in the context of a generalised upsurge of violence in the wider community.1
These explanations provide an essential framework in which to locate violence in industrial conflict. It is not often, however, that there is a specific focus on the individuals directly involved in that violence. Yet this seems to offer a vital prism through which to analyse the relationship between collective experience and individual.
The psychological profiles of the eight men convicted of the murder of four scabs in the 1987 SATS strike, which were prepared by Lloyd Vogelman and submitted to the trial court as part of the extenuation case, provide a unique opportunity to investigate the issue of strike violence from the personal perspectives of those involved.2 The insights gained from such an investigation seek to elucidate several areas of study. Firstly, they shed light on some psychological variables which potentially contribute to explanations of the individuals' behaviour in the strike situation. Secondly, the explanations for violence expressed by the accused themselves appear to validate certain sociological models that have been used to explain the escalation of strike violence. The intersection of both sociological and psychological evidence forms the springboard of this analysis and hopefully throws up some new variables for consideration of violence in industrial disputes.
In an investigation of the eight psychological profiles (of those who pleaded guilty to murder), one may expect to find certain distinguishable characteristics which would single out the accused and which would justify their appellation as "murderers". This is especially so in a case such as the SATS murders, where the killings were particularly brutal.3 The most startling feature of this investigation, however, is that there are few, if any, such characteristics. Seven of the eight accused have no criminal record and have never before been involved in violent confrontations. There is indeed little in their social and psychological histories which would allow one to speak of their "criminal predisposition", or which would distinguish them from the thousands of other people who have grown up under the grinding poverty and oppression of South Africa's apartheid society. In the words of David Dison, their defence lawyer, they are
… in the main, God-fearing working-class people with strong roots in their communities and with all but one exception, no criminal record.4
Their particular personal attributes do not offer an immediate answer to the question as to what drove this group of ordinary people to go to Prolecon on the 28th April 1987 and murder four non-strikers. This question becomes more puzzling and complex when one considers the extremely brutal fashion in which the murders were carried out.
Far from offering any explanations, the commercial press focused primarily on the gruesome details of the murders while paying scant attention to the context in which the killings occurred. It is impossible, however, to understand the brutal tragedy and the actions of the strikers unless they are placed against the backdrop of the bitter conflict between the South African Transport Services (SATS) management and the South African Railway Workers and Harbours Union (SARHWU) which culminated in the two parties' failure to reach a negotiated settlement. Based on the evidence at hand, this paper attempts to show that the extreme situational forces operating at the time were essential in explaining the cause of the strikers' aberrant behaviour. The particular confluence of events eroded the individuals' proclivity to uphold behavioural and moral norms. Indeed, the legal defence team argued that these situational factors reduced the "moral blameworthiness" of those who had pleaded guilty to murder.
It cannot be alleged that the conduct of the accused was due to inner vice on the part of the accused but that something transpired during the 6-week SATS strike which removed the element of rationality from the accused and caused them to behave in a manner alien to them.5
The logical conclusion of this argument is that any reasonable person could react to the prevailing circumstances in a manner similar to the people on trial. It is therefore essential to examine the circumstances which shaped the course of this bizarre occurrence.
Collective Bargaining and Conflict Escalation in the Strike6
From the very outset, the potential for successful collective bargaining at SATS was extremely remote. Firstly, employees in SATS were specifically excluded from the scope of the Labour Relations Act 28 of 1956. Workers' basic rights of freedom of association, collective bargaining, orderly withholding of labour and protection under the law were, therefore, denied to them.7 Secondly, SARHWU was not a recognised union at the time of the strike.
The union was initially launched at a congress in Grahamstown in July 1986 as part of Cosatu's programme to organise "one union per industry" on a national basis. This meant that at the time of the strike, less than nine months later, SARHWU was still a fledgling union, arguably lacking in skills and knowledge in terms of organising, bargaining and dealing with management in a strike scenario. The union had a membership of 10 500, approximately 6 300 of which were in the Southern Transvaal region of the South African Transport Services.8 The tenuous collective bargaining environment was further complicated by the existence of another trade union, the Black Trade Union of South African Transport Services (BLATU), which was regarded by the workers as a 'sweetheart union' and was seen to be entirely unrepresentative of their interests, yet which was clearly accorded recognition by management.9
The origins of the dispute can be traced back to the 12th March 1987. The spark which set the dispute in motion was the dismissal of a driver, Andrew Nedzamba, from the City Deep branch, following a dispute over a cash irregularity of R40-40. The dismissal clearly fed into wider grievances of the workers who came out on a solidarity strike claiming that SATS habitually dismissed people in March in order to avoid the payment of bonuses in April. Workers contended that often these same workers would subsequently be re-employed at a lower wage than previously.
The following day, the SATS Regional Manager, Mr le Roux met with BLATU officials in an attempt to resolve the issue. On this occasion, BLATU demanded the unconditional reinstatement of Nedzamba. SARHWU officials offered to assist in resolving the issue but this offer was rejected by SATS. Three days later, on Monday 16 March, le Roux failed to arrive for a follow-up meeting with the workers at the plant. These factors appear to have combined to create the first seeds of distrust and suspicion amongst the workforce over management's good faith.10
This distrust was rapidly exacerbated by the contradictory approach adopted by the SATS management. Just days after le Roux had refused to meet with SARHWU representatives, another management figure, Mr Berndt, agreed to meet with both BLATU and "another three worker representatives". Implicit in this concession was the recognition that BLATU was not fully representative of the workforce in the plant. Adding insult to injury, when the meeting did transpire, Berndt demanded that workers return to work before negotiations over the Nedzamba issue could begin.
By this stage, the demands of the workers had developed from the single localised issue to a series of demands which required more protracted negotiations if they were to be resolved. These demands included:
- the unconditional reinstatement of Nedzamba;
- full payment for days on strike;
- that all future disciplinary actions be open to worker assessment; and
- abolition of all racial practices in the management machinery.11
Wednesday March 18 was a crucial day in the strike. Firstly, it was the first occasion on which the police were involved in the strike. Berndt, having presented workers with a court interdict ordering them not to interfere with the work process, called the police who were involved in evicting some workers from the premises. Secondly, by this time, news of the strike had spread to other SATS branches, with the result that at the same time that another SARHWU offer to negotiate with SATS was turned down, Kaserne workers were taking a decision to join the strike.
The following day, SARHWU officials repeated their offer and were refused by le Roux on the grounds that he was bound by policy and was not allowed to enter into negotiations with the union. A suggestion that the parties go to independent mediation was also rejected by SATS, who then entered into negotiations from which non-BLATU representatives were excluded.
The events of March 16-19 were crucial to the process of escalating conflict within the dispute. The apparent intransigence of management was clearly evident to workers through the refusal to even meet with their union representatives and was dramatically compounded by the involvement of the police at the request of SATS. The growing frustration of workers in this context can be easily understood and, not surprisingly, the atmosphere was becoming increasingly tense and acrimonious. It was in this climate that thousands of workers gathered at Cosatu House on Saturday March 21- Sharpeville Day. In a tense atmosphere, hundreds of police gathered outside the building and eventually forced workers to leave in groups of twenty to go to Doornfontein Station.
On the following Monday, a special Government Gazette was published which conferred powers of mass dismissal on the General Manager of SATS. Not only did this raise the spectre of potential dismissals for striking workers, thereby dramatically increasing the stakes in the dispute, but worker frustration was also exacerbated by the obvious ease with which SATS policy could apparently be changed. For the workers this amounted to throwing down the gauntlet – SATS were seen to have actively chosen a path of confrontation rather than collective bargaining as a means of resolving the dispute. Strike action quickly spread to Germiston, Springs, Bosfontein and Jan Smuts. In the meantime, membership of the SARHWU had swollen to approximately 16 000 out of 23 000 workers in the Southern Transvaal region alone. At this stage, workers were beginning to gather regularly at Cosatu House in Johannesburg and at the union offices in Germiston.
In the week which followed, once again requests by the union to negotiate were turned down, as were suggestions of independent third party mediation. By the end of March, negotiations had broken down completely – primarily on the basis of SATS' refusal to recognise SARHWU as a negotiating partner. On Tuesday March 31, SATS issued a notice to employees threatening to replace black strikers with white workers on a permanent basis as well as advocating a "no work – no pay" position to the strikers. Despite refusing to recognise SARHWU, SATS management still blamed the union for the strike and claimed that the latter were engaged in mass intimidation.
For the SATS workforce, faith in the collective bargaining procedures as a means of resolving the conflict was all but extinguished by this stage. In desperation, the union approached the Minister of Transport to intervene, claiming that SATS was deviating from the principles of collective bargaining entrenched in the South African industrial relations system. Still SATS management insisted on negotiating only with BLATU.
Levels of frustration amongst the workers were becoming critical as the strike neared four weeks duration. This was compounded by increased police action and the detention, by April 7, of 305 SARHWU members under the emergency regulations. Monday April 13 to Thursday April 17, witnessed a rapid escalation in the levels of violence used by workers in the strike. Throughout the week, trains and other SATS property were being destroyed and police action increased as well.
In what almost appeared to be a move designed to provoke violence, on Monday April 20, SATS announced that all non-strikers and BLATU members would receive bonuses. On the same day, SATS publicly accused SARHWU on SABC of being a front for the South African Communist Party and of having political intentions beyond those of work-floor issues. In so doing, management assisted in focusing attention on intra-worker conflicts in the course of the dispute. At the point at which attacks on scabs began, the full significance of this divisive approach became apparent.
Wednesday 22 April 1987 was a key turning point of the strike. The conflict was dramatically escalated when police shot and killed workers at Germiston Station and then lay siege to Cosatu House. On the same day, SATS announced that all striking workers were summarily dismissed. From this point, the strike descended into the spiral of violence which almost inevitably left the four scabs dead. On the night of April 27, the first scabs were assaulted at Cosatu House against the explicit instructions of the strike co-ordinating committee, signalling the final breakdown of control of any collective discipline within the strike.
The diary reveals gross irregularities and arbitrary decision-making on the part of the railways. The most serious inconsistency was management's lack of a clear policy as to who they were prepared to negotiate with. Initially they were prepared to negotiate with non-BLATU representatives while later they refused to include workers outside of BLATU structures. The fluctuations in their stance not only severely compromised management's credibility in the eyes of the workers, but also prevented a stable negotiating team from being established. By later restricting negotiations to the City Deep workers only, SATS was effectively attempting to limit the grievances to that of Nedzamba's dismissal, and were thereby ignoring the further issues which had arisen.
Management's intransigence, their refusal to recognise and negotiate with SARHWU, coupled with the union's inexperience in organising strike action, were to prove a lethal combination in fuelling the flames of the dispute. There was perhaps no factor more significant in the escalation of conflict in the strike than the SATS decision to dismiss workers and employ strike-breakers.
The tensions were further heightened by the role of the police who were clearly involved in supporting management from early on in the strike. Minor skirmishes between workers and police was a consistent feature of the strike and the shooting of striking workers was perhaps the most important turning point in the gathering on the pavements or in the street around Cosatu House resulted in massive overcrowding inside the building and to the development of an aroused, highly aggressive crowd situation inside the hall, which lent itself to a breakdown of self-restraint and increased disinhibition on the part of many of the workers who were participating.
A Closer Look at the Personal Profiles of the Accused
The table below indicates the most basic biographical information about the accused. It is followed by a more in-depth look at the common features which can be identified in the lives of the eight men. In seeking the unifying characteristics of the accused, this section only briefly attempts to reflect the differences in either personal traits or the varied motivations of these people (despite the fact that differences became clear during the interviewing process). These differences are overlooked since it is the common sociological variables which may offer some pointers as to why peaceable people with dedicated family lives and accepted social orientations were able to adopt the role of killers in the strike situation. It is, however, important to note that not all of the eight were actively involved in the actual killing. They nonetheless pleaded guilty to being part of, or knowing of, the plan to murder the non-strikers.
Table 1: Summary of Biographical Details of the Accused
| Name | Nos of Dependents | Education | Occupation Prior to Arrest and Salary |
| David Dzevhe | Std 6 | Clerk – R405 P/M | |
| Jacob Machaka | Std 5 | Driver – R822 P/M | |
| George Maungedzo |
4
|
Std 1 | Worker – R350 P/M |
| Wilson Matshile |
9
|
Std 4 | Shunter |
| Takalane Mamphaga |
5
|
Matric | Assistant Electrician – R280 P/M |
| Phineas Netshituneulwane |
3
|
Std 2 | Cleaner – R380 P/M |
| William Rhikotsa |
8
|
Std 4 | Cleaner – R380 P/M |
| Bongane Sibisi |
7
|
Std 3 | Loader |
Living Conditions at the Time of the Strike
Following is an in-depth look at the common features which can be identified in the lives of the eight men. In seeking the unifying characteristics of the accused, this section only briefly attempts to reflect the differences in either personal traits or the varied motivations of these people (despite the fact that differences became clear during the interviewing process). These differences are overlooked since it is the common sociological variables which may offer some pointers as to why peaceable people with dedicated family lives and accepted social orientations were able to adopt the role of killers in the strike situation. It is, however, important to note that not all of the eight were actively involved in the actual killing. They nonetheless pleaded guilty to being part of, or knowing of, the plan to murder the non-strikers.
Despite the diversity of living arrangements amongst the accused, certain overarching features draw together their different environments. For a start, each of the accused was living under extremely insalubrious conditions at the time of the strike.
Overcrowding and lack of proper facilities were the most obvious problems. Johannes Ncoba, for example, lived in a four-bedroomed house with seventeen other people. He slept in the kitchen along with the rest of the boys in his family. The house had electricity but had no water or bathing facilities. Mr Matshile lived with his wife in a single room behind the church where she worked, while Mr Mamphaga shared a one-bedroomed house with four other people.
Mr Sibisi lived in Mtshangu Village in Soweto where there was no running water or electricity. The absence of these facilities meant that Mr Sibisi had to queue for water in the evenings, live by candlelight and endure living near four mobile toilets serving over 1 000 people. Sibisi and his wife shared a single bed, while his child slept on the floor. Despite these hardships, he argued that conditions were still better than in the SATS hostel as at least he could have his family with him.
David Dzevhe did not share the good fortune of living with his family. He was housed by SATS in the Delmore Hostel where no visits from women were permitted, and where the standard of food was so bad that it was preferable to skip meals. He lived in a dormitory and had virtually no space for personal belongings.
Each of the accused thus endured hardships in their home environment. The physical hardships were compounded by the strain of having little or no privacy or space for personal activities. Vogelman expresses little doubt that living under these sorts of conditions impinged on the behaviour of the individuals within their working environment. Their living arrangements were likely to have induced higher levels of stress and frustration and were thus likely to have increased the propensity for outbreaks of aggressive behaviour. He explains that:
… these stress-inducing conditions would undoubtedly have been transported into the strike situation and would probably have had an influence on the behaviour of the accused during the strike.12
Occupational History
The occupational histories of the eight, who worked for varying lengths of time at SATS prior to the strike, are peppered with incidents of frustration and dissatisfaction. It is unquestionable that their experiences in the workplace, which included certain earlier antagonistic incidents, engendered a feeling of hostility towards SATS management, and thereby eased the decision for the accused to participate in the call to strike. The following extracts are telling illustrations of the crude treatment meted out to the workers by the SATS management.
-
In 1982, Mr Sibisi went home to visit his mother. During this leave period, there was a strike at SATS. He returned to work to discover that he had been dismissed. After lodging a complaint, he was re-employed – in another department, and with a salary reduction from R156-00 to R136-00 per month.
-
Mr Mamphaga's experience as an employee of SATS was one of overt racial discrimination to which he felt powerless to respond. He expressed deep dissatisfaction at being called a "kaffir" by his "master" but although he "felt bad about it … there was nothing [he] could do, [he] only had to continue working at this place."13 Mr Mamphaga also speaks of resentment for his job of "cleaning the white man's changeroom", washing the "white man's cars" and "cleaning of the coaches".
David Dzevhe's work history at SATS was a particularly gruesome one. His leg was amputated after an accident in the workplace. Although he acknowledges some responsibility for the accident, saying that he had momentarily lost his concentration, he bears intense anger towards the SATS management. He claims that they consistently failed to consult the workers about job allocations and they did not take the skill of the individual worker into account. David was allowed one month's unpaid leave in order to recuperate. On returning to his job, he discovered that he had been allocated to a different department. His salary at the time of the strike was R405, half the salary received by his white counterpart for the same job.
More generally, it would appear that there was little opportunity for black employees to advance up the SATS hierarchy. Several of the accused expressed feelings of drudgery and boredom in the workplace. The salaries that they received were abysmal.
Despite the strong sense of injustice expressed by the accused over their working conditions, none had laid formal complaints against management. Fear of dismissal and the difficulty of obtaining jobs elsewhere are the most obvious explanations for their apparent acquiescence. They had taken on employment at SATS after extended periods of job-hunting. Most importantly, each of the men was a central breadwinner in their families, and thus felt strong pressures and obligations to maintain a job so as to continue supporting them. Furthermore, none had joined a union or participated in worker campaigns prior to the 1987 strike. Neither had they been actively engaged in the political arena.
Religious Beliefs
With one exception, the accused were members of a church community and viewed themselves as practising Christians. Their religious affiliations point to an awareness of and/or a willingness to accept Christian moral codes and ethics. Although religious convictions/orientations do not necessarily prescribe or determine the behaviour of individuals, such convictions do suggest that the killings were antithetical to the individuals' perceived behavioural and moral standards.
The picture painted thus far is of ordinary, reasonable men, free from inner vice. This leaves us to investigate the circumstances which compelled their eventual part in the killings.
Joining the Strike
The accuseds' lack of both union and political experience became manifest during the strike. Their 'organisational naïvety' meant that they had nothing to measure this particular experience against, and their expectations of the strike situation was therefore based solely on their own personal standards of judgement. This created a situation in which the individuals had an overdeveloped sense of their own power and unrealistic expectations within the dispute. Moreover, without a history of organisational discipline and accountability, they were ill-equipped to deal with some of the obstacles that arose during the course of the strike.
Their lack of experience is exemplified by the following examples. Mr Mamphaga claims not to have heard of Cosatu House prior to the strike and states that he only became a member of SARHWU on the first day that he went to Cosatu House.14 Mr Netshituneulwane also joined SARHWU at the time of the strike, for the simple reason that 'SARHWU was the trade union which most of the transport workers were members.'15 Mr Rikhotso's first visit to Cosatu House prompted his joining SARHWU. David Dzevhe was an exception to the rule that the accused became members of SARHWU just during the strike itself. He had joined the union two months prior to the strike when he realised that 'as an individual I could not solve the problems I met at the factory floor'.16 Considering this lack of union experience, it becomes pertinent to ask what in fact propelled the accused to join SARHWU and to participate in the strike.
The compulsion for them to join the strike appears to have arisen out of a general sympathy with the plight of Mr Andrew Nedzamba. Loyalty to a fellow worker was expressed as the initial over-riding concern in the decision to strike. Over the course of events however, Andrew's situation came to reflect the accuseds' own dissatisfactions and insecurities that they experienced in the workplace and his case bore with it the hope that the strike would result in an improvement of general working conditions at SATS. The workers' solidarity with Andrew's situation was clearly expressed by Mr Mamphaga:
Everyone kept on saying we are now tired about the handling of conditions here at work. We have to side with Andrew because Andrew's case was also involving us. The manner in which we are being handled by our employer it does not satisfy us and all of us then joined the strike.17
Thus, in the eyes of the accused, the unfair treatment meted out against Andrew became coterminous with the unfair treatment that they had suffered at the hands of the SATS management, and as Mr Rikhotso explained,
… dat indien nou Andrew's se voorval nou regkom, dit is moontlik dat ander probleme of klagtes wat ek ook self gehad het kon ook reggestel word.18
The accuseds' initial involvement was largely premised on the belief that the strike would only last a few days and that because of the number of workers on strike, the 'railways would want to negotiate'.19 Mr Netshituneulwane went as far as to express a distinct faith in the desire of those in authority to resolve the conflict:
Wel, vandat ek aan die staking deelgeneem het ek gedink dit sal net 'n kort tydjie neem … . Ek het nie moed verloor nie … . Ek het daarvan gehoor [dat die vervoerdienste nie meet met die werkers wil praat nie]. Mnr Hayes hulle het daaroor gepraat maar ek self het dit nie geglo nie en verder het ek nie moed verloor nie.20
For Mr Netshituneulwane, it appeared unquestionable that the worker representatives would attain their demands. This trust was echoed by David Dzevhe who thought that 'the conflict seemed easy" and that the bosses would not want to destroy us because of this minor problem.'21 Mr Maungedzo stated that: 'I thought it [the strike] would be a matter of about 2 days or three days.'22 The failure of the negotiations, however, and the subsequent prolongation of the strike slowly eroded the initial sentiments of the accused. The management's failure to fulfil the workers' expectations served to engender the belligerent attitudes that were to characterise the accuseds' actions in the latter half of the strike. Wilson Matshile succinctly captures, albeit naively, the general feelings of the workers after they learnt that management had not met their demands:
I felt bad because I did not want to think that management would not agree. Management is like a mother with two children, if the children cry, 'Mommy, we want food', then the mother must try to give the children what they need. Management show me that they are not like that and I felt very cross and angry.23
The above statements clearly indicate how the initial perceptions of the accused were that the balance of the forces was in favour of the workers and that SATS had little option but to negotiate. As the reality of the situation unravelled, the unmet expectations induced deep feelings of frustration which increased the participants' potential for aggression.
The growing sense of management's intransigence was overlaid by the continual fear of the possibility of dismissal. This fear was expressed repeatedly during the interviews. As has been shown, each of the accused was the central breadwinner and thus losing their jobs was coupled with the welfare and survival of their families. In the case of Mr Maungedzo for example, Vogelman claims that 'his financial situation is likely to have made [him] feel desperate and inadequate, as he could not assist his family and because he was forced to become dependent on his brother, as well as angry with SATS and the non-participants who he blamed for his predicament.' The workers did not receive any money during the strike, a situation of which they were unaware before going on strike. They merely presumed that if they were not dismissed then they would be paid. Few of the accused had savings to sustain them without regular pay cheques and Mr Mamphaga felt that he and his family would 'suffer greatly' without his monthly remunerations. A further pressure was the possibility of being blacklisted and therefore the inability to find jobs elsewhere.
The Meeting of Workers at Cosatu House
The detailing of conditions at Cosatu House during the strike is an important precursor to an understanding of the murders. Initially, strikers gathered each day at both the World Centre in Germiston and Cosatu House in Johannesburg. After the killing of workers by the police in Germiston, and the refusal of SATS to allow them the right of assembly at their respective work depots, all the strikers met in what became known as the "big hall" in Cosatu House. Daily police presence around Cosatu House ensured that workers did not gather informally outside the building, creating a situation where up to 5 000 workers would be in the big hall. The atmosphere in the big hall is graphically described by Mr Mamphaga:
At Cosatu House there were too many people in the big hall. It was very noisy. People used to sing and dance and there was a chairman. Some days they [other workers] would come and give us support about the strike, but mostly the people would complain and shout and talk about things that had happened to them on the railways. I was sometimes scared to go to Cosatu House because there was a lot of noise and people were very aggressive.24
Despite the fear expressed by Mr Mamphaga, his interviews reveal that he too became infected by the spirit of the meetings and the behaviour of the crowd, and quickly shared the sense of outrage expressed by fellow strikers. This was equally true in the case of the other participants. Mr Mamphaga 'also [got] angry when [he] heard how workers were treated. It made [him] feel angry towards the railways for not meeting the demands.'25 David Dzevhe stated that the problems discussed in the hall
… made me feel angry because they reminded me of my own problems. Sometimes you can have a problem but you live with it, but then others say they have the same problem and they complain about it and from then on you begin to feel pain.26
For Netshituneulwane, the meetings served to raise his expectations and he reports being told often that negotiations were continuing and that the strike would be resolved. At one point, he describes the meetings in a rather jolly fashion, a place where people came together to sing and dance and complain. There is evidence, however, that over time, the general tenor of the meetings was that of unruliness and disorder.
The degeneration of the proceedings can partially be explained by the inability of leadership figures to direct and control the meetings. A key leadership figure was one of the accused, namely Bongani Sibisi who, despite his lack of union experience, was elected as the chairman of the meetings in the big hall. Mr Sibisi's election was clearly a fortuitous event. He describes it in the following manner:
The secretary of SARHWU told that one person in the meeting needs to keep order … because everyone was talking and no-one was listening. The people elected someone … but he didn't accept because he said that he could only speak Venda and most of the other delegates spoke Tswana, Xhosa, Zulu and Shangaan … . They then elected a second man to chair but he said that he was incapable because of his language and he pointed to me in preference. This man knew me from the time that we travelled together on the train.27
At the time, Sibisi expressed a strong concern and fear over his ability to control the meetings. He accepted the position, however, because of crowd pressure which, he said, made it very difficult for him to refuse their mandate. As a reluctant leadership figure who had no prior experience in chairing meetings, the gathering of over five hundred angry, striking workers presented Sibisi with a formidable task. He experienced difficulties in controlling the meeting from the outset. This may be attributed not only to his lack of experience but also to the failure of the shop stewards' committee to guide him in the decision-making process. The shop stewards were engaged in meetings with officials rather than concentrating their energies on the strikers themselves. It is patent from the interviews that as the strike wore on, Mr Sibisi was increasingly overwhelmed and helpless in controlling the emotive outbursts inside and outside of the big hall. He describes the duress that he was under in the following way:
I did not have time to eat. I was thinking all the time. I was angry all the time because so much was wanted from me. There was lots of fighting and I had to stop the fighting … I also had to be cool all the time, for example when the police loud-hailed that people must go inside but when I went outside to tell the others to come inside they would say to me that 'the police must go away'. I had to be cool with these people and tried to persuade them all the time to go inside.28
Sibisi was told repeatedly by the workers to adopt a less moderational tone and was urged by some members of the crowd 'not to be afraid [but rather] to hold up [his] fist and shout Amandla … and encourage the workers to strike.'29 It was under these pressures that, rather than tightening the reins over democratic procedures and enforcing order, Sibisi began to accept instructions from individual workers themselves. Thus as the democratic consultations in the big hall whittled away, the decision-making process became increasingly fragmented, a factor which contributed significantly to the strikers' violent behaviour towards the scabs and non-strikers.
The only other leadership figure amongst the accused was Machaka. Despite his lack of experience, he was elected as a shop steward which 'was probably based on a perception of [him] as a responsible and efficient individual'.30 His attendance at the shop steward meetings is likely to have heightened his commitment to the striking workers.
It is clear from the above that the collective experience of the meetings served the important function of generating strength and courage and a feeling of "unity in action" amongst the strikers. An ethos of collectivity was facilitated by the clearly defined identity of the group – the people gathered in the hall were all workers at SATS, they were all part of the same union, they all saw themselves as oppressed and striking for better conditions. While the daily meetings were thus a vital building block for the morale of the workers, the particular sets of conditions in the big hall unwittingly facilitated the outbreak of violence.
Firstly, the gross overcrowding made the hall unconducive to rational debate and orderly conduct. The almost inevitable breakdown of order gave the general impression that new norms of behaviour were being sanctioned during the strike. As a consequence, anarchic and destructive behaviour came to be accepted as the status quo. Secondly, the gradual loss of control was accompanied by the increasing use of emotionally charged rhetoric to explain and deal with the daily occurrences. In the general melee that ensued, it became difficult to resist being 'swept along' with the highly charged responses of the crowd. Thirdly, the accuseds' lack of familiarity with mass meetings probably prevented them from discerning what was 'right and wrong' in this situation or from making appropriate interventions to reinstitute disciplined procedures. In this way, the accused both served to produce, and were the product of the disorganised and directionless meetings. Fourthly, the act of thousands of workers coming together and airing their grievances augmented the accuseds' own sense of injustice and their increasingly negative feelings towards SATS. The sense of shared experience allowed for a confidence to develop around the fairness of their demands as well as sanctioning hostile behaviour towards SATS, the police and the scabs. The absence of any leadership figures who could take charge of the chaotic situation and guide the proceedings, was the final ingredient which made the outbreak of violence almost inevitable.
Turning Points and Attitudes towards the Non-Participants
There were two decisive turning points which catapulted the strike in a new direction. The first was the announcement of the dismissal of all strikers on the 22 April. The government sanctioned this action by giving SATS the legal right to dismiss the strikers. The second was the violent action taken by the police in an attempt to stop the strike. Both events displayed the obvious partisanship of the government and the state in the strike. They highlighted the fact that throughout the strike, there were a number of agencies operating to suppress the collective protests, challenges and actions of the strikers. Mr Mamphaga states that after the events of the 22nd of April the mood within the big hall changed substantially:
One was now able to see that there was no order in the hall. Every person or every man would do whatever he felt like doing right inside the hall.31
The dismissals came as a rude shock to several of the accused whose lack of prior experience in the strike situation had not prepared them for the actuality of a mass dismissal. David Dzevhe considered dismissal a threat rather than a possible reality because he felt that with thousands of workers on strike, 'it was impossible that SATS would dismiss all of us and all the workers, because if they did, they would collapse.'32 Mr Netshituneulwane also said that he was not able to believe that he was dismissed, which again reflects an ignorance about the consequences of going on strike. Considering the accuseds' position as major breadwinners in their families and the psychological importance of being employed and receiving wages, the prospect of no longer having a job produced intense anxiety.
At this point, some of the accused showed conflicting feelings about whether or not to return to work. On one hand, they were desperate to retain their jobs and to continue to be able to support their families. On the other hand, there was a real disenchantment over SATS failure to attend to their grievances. The accuseds' ultimate decision to continue striking has various explanations. These include the depth of feeling that had developed at this point around the issues at stake. Through the course of the meetings in the big hall, a stark picture of the injustices suffered by the workers had been painted. The moral pressure operating in such a large group of strikers was also a considerable factor in the decision to continue striking. Moreover, the accuseds knew that it was unlikely that they would find other jobs with improved work conditions. The possibility of other alternatives would have timeously acted as 'a valve to siphon off the energy of the group.'33 Instead, the decision to remain on strike increased their own sense of desperation, and the antagonistic feelings towards management and strike-breakers magnified tenfold.
The situation deteriorated further after the police's vicious onslaught against the strikers. It should be noted, however, that this was not the first time that police had taken violent action against the strikers. According to Mr Sibisi, the police had provoked the anger of the workers well before their mass attack on the 22nd of April:
It must have been about the first week in April … and this was the first time I saw people get very angry. It was when the police came and threw out the workers' belongings onto the yard and burnt the workers' clothes and put them into a bin. They broke our cooking pots … , they beat the workers with sjamboks on their backs; they shouted that the people mustn't sit in the depot because they are not working. After this I missed my bank book, my workers certificate, my shoes, my boots, my clothes, my textbook for my training college at the railways.34
Mr Mamphaga's earliest experience of police violence was right at the beginning of the strike when the police arrived at this depot.
[They] were carrying guns, teargas, sjamboks … and told us to leave the premises. 'If you do not want to work you either leave the railway premises. If you do not want to leave we are going to take you out by force.' We left the railway premises though we were not satisfied about it because we had hoped that our management would solve this problem.35
Later, while catching a train home, Mr Mamphaga was 'surprised to see teargas being sprayed into the coaches … [making] everybody angry.'36
The early introduction of the police into the dispute demonstrated SATS' preference for force as a means of resolving the conflict. It contributed to a sense amongst the workers that violence was indeed an acceptable modus operandi in resolving the dispute. The rapid spiralling of violent incidents produced a growing desensitisation as to the consequences of violent actions and the close association between the police and management quickly placed the police outside the realm of "neutral mediators" of the conflict. Mr Dzevhe explained how the police's use of violence severely undermined their credibility:
I did not trust them because they always used force during the strike. They did not mind to shoot an unarmed person. They went out of their way not to fulfil their mandate of protecting society. Instead of protecting society, they kill society … I knew a man that was killed that was staying at the Delmore hostel with me and I felt very sad and angry … because it was out of my control. There is nothing I can do against the police because they can also shoot and hurt me.37
Police violence on the 22nd of April, however, far exceeded any of prior incidents in both its scale and brutality and provoked a new aggression and sense of powerlessness amongst the strikers. Mr Netshituneulwane explains how
I felt very sad and painful about the attack on Cosatu House … I thought that the police were trying to provoke the workers and were trying to start a fight with the workers. I was also angry and helpless in that the police were trying to force us back to the railways.38
Below is an account of the scene which greeted the strikers on the 23 April after the police attack:
Now at the entrance of Cosatu House I saw blood stains, window panes had been damaged or broken, there was not a lot of people at the meeting … . Now what worried us, we the workers, was the teargas which was being sprayed inside the Cosatu House. Now that made everyone in the hall to cough … there was nothing … we could do … because that was the only place that we could meet.39
Rikhotso adds that:
Mense was baie kwaad want ander werkers was geskiet en hulle het daar gesels oor die begrafnis van die mense en op die manier hoe ek dit gesien het na die 22ste wat daar in die Cosatuhuis gebeur het was nie soos voorheen nie, dit was net deurmekaar en daar was nie orde.40
The violence, together with the mass dismissals, introduced an urgency and panic into the proceedings. There was now a clear realisation that the strike was unlikely to bring benefits to the strikers and could in fact engender major personal losses. This realisation, together with the reservoir of hostility that had built up, resulted in the strikers resorting to what they believed was now the only hopeful channel for change, namely violence. Mr Machaka states clearly the way in which violence came to be accepted by the workers:
The workers felt that for years they had struggled peacefully and had got nothing. They believed that there was nothing to lose by using violence and maybe it may achieve something. After Doornfontein and Germiston, the workers' actions were not clear, they did not have much thought to them.41
It further emerged through the interviews that the accused perceived themselves as under attack, and thus saw actions of violence as defensive, a means of protecting their jobs and rights as workers. Mr Netshituneulwane explains how the police action on Cosatu House was seen as an interference with the workers' right to gather freely:
I saw that the workers were angry because they were not happy, as police came to the meeting where they were not invited, where they were not wanted or needed … I thought that the police were trying to provoke the workers and were trying to start a fight with the workers. I also thought that they were trying to force us to go back to work.42
The focus of the strike thus shifted away from finding a common strategy to deal with SATS' intransigence, towards working out quick solutions and ways to punish those who were perceived as impeding the progress of the strike. The scabs and non-strikers were the obvious targets to lash out against for a number of reasons. Firstly, SATS was too powerful and superior an enemy to take on and be granted any sense of immediate gratification. Secondly, retaliatory violence against the scabs was both a means of "correcting" what the strikers believed to be the latter's unjust behaviour and of stopping the prolongation of the strike. The strikers and the accused identified scabs as contributing to, or being the partial cause of, their problems. David Dzevhe expressed the common opinion towards the scabs:
… they were prolonging the strike, because they did not care about other people, because they were ignorant of what was going on and they knew we wanted our rights … they care for themselves more than they care for others.43
Mr Netshituneulwane explained that the scabs
..are some of the people who caused the management of SATS not to come and discuss or talk with us, and I even thought within myself that seeing the people were going back to work one by one the Sats (sic) … would also think that we are going back to work.44
The disciplining of scabs was also part of the desire that workers act as a collective and that any divisions would undermine the strength of the workers. The attitudes which developed were polarised in that individuals were either seen to be with the strikers or against the strikers; police action on the 22nd helped to transform feelings of indifference towards the non-participants to feelings of antagonism. The scabs were placed in the same camp as the police and management and were called "impimpis". Mr Machaka questioned why the non-participants should benefit from the success of the strike while they were not prepared to make any sacrifices.
Mr Maungedzo describes his support for the initial assaults against the non-participants in the following way:
I heard about the non-strikers that they were being assaulted … I was also angry about it … well, I thought that it was a good thing that they should be punished.45
Wilson Matshile likewise saw violence as the appropriate way of dealing with the non-participants:
If people don't want to listen, just give them a little bit of a hiding, then they will listen … I think it is the right punishment.46
David Dzevhe claims that the co-ordinating committee were against the beatings but the people in the hall refused to listen because their "anger was too much". At this point, Mr Sibisi was no longer held in a position of authority and the suggestion to punish the scabs was presented as a fait accompli to the strikers in the big hall. The absence of leadership figures actively resisting the violence against the non-participants is likely to have encouraged the beatings. Sibisi's attempts to prevent the non-participants from being severely assaulted were largely futile:
The hall was very full and the people brought the scabs. While they were in the hall, the scabs – there were three to five of them, were beaten, pushed, kicked from the door to the stage. I was trying to stop the people. I told them from the stage not to hit them because they would injure them. When they came to the stage they were still being hit and I tried to physically prevent them from being beaten.47
He relates another attempt to contain the violence after the workers had gone to receive their payslips and were beaten by the police:
Later I heard that some women were beating other women very badly in the small hall. I went to the small hall and found that some women were beating this other woman like a dog. Everyone was pulling her, kicking her, hitting her with her shoes … I stopped them and took the women that was beating the others to the shop stewards' committee.48
The strikers' belief that violence was the correct form of punitive action against the scabs has been partly shown to be the product of the already bloody legacy of the strike. Management's refusal to compromise, and their apparent alliance with the police encouraged the strikers' belief that stronger measures were not only desirable but necessary in achieving their demands. Thus the decision to participate in punishing the scabs was firmly wedded in the accuseds' growing sense of the loss of power and control over the future of their working lives. Punishing the scabs was one means of overcoming the strikers' own growing sense of helplessness, despite the fact that the primary source of their frustration was SATS. Psychologically, loss of power and control is likely to be accompanied by a reduction in calculated thought before violence is commissioned.
The event which triggered off the brutal killings was the discovery of a work ticket in the possession of the scabs. The scab was publicly arraigned in front of the gathering in the big hall, during which time he admitted to having lied about not working. This confession, together with his status as scab, laid the foundation for what was to follow. The trigger incident by itself could not have caused the events that transpired. It was, however, the final precipitating factor in a long line of happenings. The killings did not represent a hiatus in the behaviour of the strikers, but were rather the extreme point of the generalised and legitimised use of violence.
The 28th April – The Day of the Killings
Word had reached the general body of strikers that the scabs were being held in the small hall adjoining the main hall in Cosatu House. David Dzevhe describes the intensity of the crowd's response to this information as being potentially uncontrollable and destructive:
When the workers at Cosatu House knew that someone was working they always wanted to get hold of him. On the 28th of April, the workers were wild and it came to my mind that the mass wanted to get inside the small hall.49
Mr Maungedzo added that the people were singing 'tramp the mpimpi, let the mpimpi be killed'.50 Mr Mamphaga captures this hatred felt toward the 'impimpis' – when he went to the small hall and saw the non-participants he became 'fed up and did not know what to do. I appeared to be a mad man and I was not certain of my whole thinking whether I was in my senses.'51 He did not witness the non-participants being beaten in the small hall, but could see from the bruises on their faces that they had been badly assaulted. He explains that the small hall was extremely crowded, but that no-one seemed sympathetic to the plight and pain of the scabs, a factor which is likely to have strengthened the impression that the violence carried out against them was socially appropriate and 'normal'.
The initial proposal that the four deceased and Mr Paluwe (the non-participant who escaped), should be killed was expressed during the commotion in the small hall. It was shouted out by a group of workers and the rest of the people in the small hall went along with it. At this stage, no pretence was made to uphold the processes of democratic functioning and thus, the arbitrary decisions of the crowd became the order of the day. There were no discussions around the consequences of killing the scabs. Mr Sibisi had essentially ceased to be a leadership figure in the strike. He was now afraid of the crowd's potential responses to his attempts to contain their aggression. On the 27th, he had been severely criticised for letting three suspected non-participants go and was cautious about intervening in matters in the small hall. This is illustrated by his account of the first time he heard that non-participants were in the small hall:
At about 11 am. I was told that there were two in the small hall who were found to be working. I told the people that told me that I did not want to go there because there were too many troubles in the small hall. If I go there and get these people free, what are they going to say to me again if they were so angry about getting the others free yesterday.52
Sibisi then lodged a complaint with the shop stewards' committee about his lack of control, but the shop stewards were busy and unable to lend him any support. This left him isolated and more powerless than before. Nonetheless, Sibisi did intervene to protect a women who was suspected of being a scab and ensured her release from Cosatu House. This action provoked still further criticism of him from the workers. Soon thereafter, Sibisi saw the five non-strikers. He was aggressively warned by the crowd in the small hall not to talk to the victims. He believed that the appropriate strategy was to return to the big hall and try to appeal to the crowd for their support to stop the killings. But by this stage, the crowd completely lacked discipline, and his authority had been so undermined that his call for assistance was rejected:
I went back to the big hall which was rowdy and tried to speak … I explained the situation that I was not allowed to speak to the scabs in the small hall and that they were going to be killed. I asked the crowd that was listening what I must do. Then many screamed without even putting their hands up that the impimpis must be stamped out and others shouted why am I so interested in their plight.53
Once again, Sibisi attempted to enlist the support of the shop stewards' committee, but without any success. They no longer felt able to assert their control over the crowd. Sibisi was warned by the crowd not to intervene on two further occasions. He had become exhausted, disillusioned and intensely frustrated. Finally Sibisi did not want to, and could not face, social rejection as a consequence of his actively opposing the collective will of the workers. He complied with the plan to kill the non-strikers by arranging for a car to take the scabs to a place where they could be killed.
Mr Machaka was likewise drawn into the killings around the issue of a vehicle. When he first heard the strikers' request for his car, he became 'very frightened' and from the outset, demonstrated his resistance to the plan:
It came about that I was elected to participate in the crime because I was the only one who had a car. The others tried to get a car from others but had not succeeded. It was well known that I had a car. When they approached me, I told them that I was wearing a star and that I was a Christian and therefore cannot speak of killing.54
He ultimately complied under the duress of the threat made to his life. At this stage, he was well aware of the violent capability of the crowd and had also witnessed Sibisi's unsuccessful attempts to stop the killings. Sibisi also advised him that the crowd was not going to change their minds and that he should save his own life. It was again under the threat of death that Mr Machaka drove the car to Prolecon. He describes his feelings of anxiety at the time:
Driving the car, I felt frightened and worried. I felt frightened because of the threats that had been made to me that I would be killed if I did not drive the car. I also feared that they might go and hurt my family if I refused.55
According to Mr Maungedzo, there were many workers who tried to get into the car to transport the deceased to the site of the killing. He had to run 'in order to succeed'.56 Mamphaga confirms this opinion:
Lots of workers, a lot of groups of people went out to the car, they also said 'we are going there'. If the means of transport was a truck I think everybody would have gone there because everybody wanted to get inside that car.57
People were cheering as the non-strikers were led to the car. The enthusiasm of the workers must have created the general impression that the event to take place was strongly sanctioned by the collective. Furthermore, the heightened emotions within the group appeared to have overridden any possibility for contemplation that might normally have taken place around the killing of non-participants. The pressure to conform was overwhelming. Mr Rikhotso states that there was one individual who attempted to resist the assaults on the non-participants. He says that he was threatened and told that if he collaborated with the non-strikers, he would also be beaten.58 This incident reinforced the perception that those who rejected the "will of the crowd" would themselves be assaulted.
The antagonism towards the non-participants, as outlined in the previous section, laid the foundation for the majority of workers being swept along and conforming to the crowd's behaviour. Within the frame of logic in operation at the time, participating in the killings was desirable because it was portrayed as socially constructive, as a way of ending the strike and as a means of strengthening and empowering the workers. It was seen to be part of the general cause of the strike.
Mr Netshituneulwane was part of the first load of people that went to the site of the killings. Below is his account of what he witnessed at Prolecon and his consequent reaction:
You see when we left the car, in other words from the road up to where the people had been killed at that stage I also had strength in me. Now when the stabbing started … I became scared. I then thought within myself this was not good, it would be better for me to leave the scene … I then walked in the direction of the road … I then noticed the very same car stopping a distance away. I also noticed people coming out of that car and I also saw a person running away … I then walked to Park Station …59
Mr Netshituneulwane clearly experienced extreme anxiety at Prolecon. He had never seen a dead body before nor anyone being killed. Witnessing such an event reinvoked the social and moral codes that he usually adhered to, with the result that he disassociated himself from the rest of the activities at Prolecon. He claims that he did not attempt to stop the killings because he had little power.
The "same car" Mr Netshituneulwane refers to, was the car that had returned to Cosatu House to pick up the remaining two non-participants. The scene was a repeat performance of people struggling to be the ones to get into the car. Mr Mamphaga describes how he managed to get inside the boot:
Though there were many who were struggling to get into that vehicle … I discovered myself inside the vehicle. Now in the boot I'm not so certain there were about three or four of us. The vehicle then pulled away and what I remember very well is that nothing was being discussed on the way.60
The silence in the car allowed for a period of self-reflection and Mr Mamphaga began to feel unsure about the murdering of the scabs. Nonetheless, Mamphaga was swept up in the violence at Prolecon, and participated in the murders by throwing a stone over the first three deceased. The strikers dispersed after realising that Mr Paluwe, who had escaped during the second car trip, had probably gone to inform the police.
Conclusion
The eight accused of murdering the four scabs during the SATS strike were far from bloodthirsty individuals who set off on a premeditated, and single-minded crime of revenge. In general, the plan to kill the deceased was not well coordinated or thought out. The place where the killings occurred was only decided on once the accused were in the car. This is clear from their own statements cited in the previous section. A mixture of fear, coercion and heightened emotionalism were the driving forces which precipitated the accused to participate in the killings. The force of situational variables was overwhelming.
In different ways, each of the eight experienced deep remorse over their actions in the aftermath of the killings. For Mr Machaka, his remorse is inseparable from a sense of disbelief in his actions:
I am still not right about it because this is not the right thing to have done before God. I still cannot sleep sometimes the whole night. I cannot sleep. I keep thinking through the night that since I was born I have never been involved in such things. It is the first time that I have been arrested and I know that it is not good especially before God …61
For Sibisi, the whole process tarnished his sense of idealism about the objectives of the strike. He was severely depressed and expressed deep concern for his family:
I can't sleep because the whole time I think about my wife and children and about what our aims were … to build a home and to stay there with my wife and children. Now its all a dream because of this case. Maybe I'll never go out. I know I'm innocent and only God can help me. Now everyone is blaming each other … but they don't know.62
The individual histories reflect that the accused were generally law-abiding citizens. Their behaviour was seemingly appropriate in their hostile situation in which they felt attacked. The accuseds' lack of knowledge of the negative consequences of going on strike, enhanced their initial feeling of power and confidence which was severely punctured by the intransigence of management and the prolongation of the strike. The interplay between the strong state of emotional arousal caused by the conditions in the big hall and the particular course that the strike took, resulted in the death of the scabs rather than as a result of the accuseds' inner vice or criminal pathology.
The SATS dispute was finally settled on the 5th June 1987. Management capitulated to most of the demands put forward by the 18 000 workers dismissed on April 22. The settlement agreed that
- all dismissed workers would be re-employed;
- no benefits would be lost;
- no victimisation would result;
- workers in detention would be re-employed; and
- permanent status would be granted to employees.
Yet, management still refused to recognise SARHWU and continued to flirt with BLATU and attempt to crudely divide and rule the SATS workforce. The result was the same clumsy managerial intransigence during the strike of 1989. In that case, the victims of the violence were the striking workers, who were brutally massacred by organised groups of non-strikers while police and management figures looked on. It would appear that many of the factors which explained the violence in 1987 were consistent in 1989 – but this will have to be the subject of another paper at another time.
Notes:
1 In particular we refer here to: Webster, E, and Simpson, G, "Crossing the Picket Line: Violence in industrial conflict", Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation Seminar Paper, No.3, May 1990. See also Shane, von Holdt, K, SALB and Vogelman, L, SALB, etc.
2 There were 18 accused altogether. These eight pleaded guilty to murder whilst the others pleaded not guilty and were eventually acquitted on the murder charge. This paper is primarily based on the testimonies of the eight convicted of murder. Four of these eight were eventually sentenced to death and are currently on "death row" in Pretoria Central Prison. Leave to appeal has been granted to these four. The remaining four were sentenced to terms of 15-20 years in prison.
3 The four victims were all found to have multiple stab wounds, had a 28-kilogram rock dropped on their heads and the bodies were then burnt.
4 Dison, D., "Violence and the Law: An examination of some recent trials", Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation Seminar Paper, No.8, October, 1989.
6 The brief diary of events summarised here is not based on any objective set of 'facts'. It is drawn from documentation submitted to the trial court which may not have contained information which was deemed irrelevant to the merits of the case against the particular accused. However, the expert testimony of Mark Anstey, an Industrial Relations expert from UPE, which outlined the escalation of conflict in the strike, was largely upheld by the court. This analysis has been coupled with the perceptions of the workers involved in the strikes as drawn from the individual interviews. This is an important clarification as the workers acted accordingly to their own 'perceptual screen' and it was through this screen that their actions and management's counter-actions were filtered.
7 Bendix, W, Bibb, P, Ibbotson, J, "The 1987 SATS Strike: An IR Institutional-environmental Perspective"
8 Overview of historical events relating to the charge in the matter of State v Sibisi and 17 Others.
9 For a further discussion of the role of BLATU and its relationship to both the SARHWU and SATS, see Joffe, J, "Violence and the Law in the 1989 Railway Strike", Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation Seminar Paper, No.2, April, 1990.
10 Molemohi's testimony … Anstey, M, "Process Analysis of the SATS Strike in Terms of Conflict Escalation", p.6, submitted to the court in S v Sibisi and 17 Others (unreported).
12 Vogelman, L., "Psychological Arguments Explaining the Behaviour of the Accused in the SATS Trial", Unpublished Manuscript.
15 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Netshituneulwane. Submitted to the court in S v Sibisi and 17 Others.
16 Vogelman, L., Profile of David Dzevhe. S v Sibisi and 17 Others.
19 Vogelman, L., Profile of Jacob Machaka.
21 Vogelman, L., Profile of David Dzevhe.
23 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Matshile.
24 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Mamphaga.
25 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Mamphaga.
26 Vogelman, L., Profile of David Dzevhe.
27 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Sibisi.
28 Vogelman, L., Profile of Bongani Sibisi.
30 Vogelman, L., Profile of Jacob Machaka.
32 Vogelman, L., Psychological Profile of David Dzevhe.
34 Interview with Sibisi, p.8.
37 Vogelman, L., Profile of David Dzevhe.
38 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Netshitenuelwane.
39 Vogelman, L,. Profile of Mr Mamphaga.
41 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Machaka.
42 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Netshituneulwane.
43 Vogelman, L., Profile of David Dzevhe.
45 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Maungedzo.
46 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Matshile.
47 Interview with Bongani Sibisi, p.12.
49 Vogelman, L., Profile of David Dzevhe.
52 Vogelman, L., Profile of Bongani Sibisi.
54 Vogelman, L., Profile of Jacob Machaka.
55 Vogelman, L., Profile of Jacob Machaka.
61 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Machaka.
62 Vogelman, L., Profile of Mr Sibisi.
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CSVR is a multi-disciplinary institute that seeks to understand and prevent violence, heal its effects and build sustainable peace at the community, national and regional levels.
