I have read thousands of books and have written countless reviews and informal impressions. But I have seldom experienced being so emotionally invested in a publication as in this case. The book cuts to the bone, exposes our hidden selves, confronts us with our darkest thoughts and fears, and rips apart our fragile worldviews. I have spent the whole of my adult life in the criminal justice system, but the relevance of this book is not limited to those within the legal or security fraternities; if you are a South African, this book is relevant.
Crime is out of control. Vigilantism is on the rise. Undisputed facts. We silently cheer those attempting to eradicate crime, both legal and not-so-legal, and we call for the rise of the likes of Dirty Harry and John Wicks, but what does it mean? Do we know what we are asking for?
Let’s start with the basics: vigilantism and mob justice. Vigilantism, law enforcement undertaken without legal authority, often gives rise to mob justice, where suspected criminals are violently punished by a group. In 2022 around 27 000 murders were recorded in South Africa, 1894 thereof were attributed to vigilantism and mob justice. During the first nine months of 2023, the latter number was already at 1472.
Mob justice generally starts with the blowing of whistles, quite literally. Like a well-choreographed movie scene, the actors appear, brandishing sjamboks, sticks, and stones. The suspect is dragged into the open, undressed, and assaulted by any means available and by anyone close enough to do so. Gogo’s get an honorary opportunity to inflict punishment. The soundtrack is a combination of cries for help, cheering, whistleblowing, and ululating. The pitiful creature, once a human being, but now the object of the unbridled fury of a homogenous group who has lost all sense of individuality, is tied behind a vehicle and dragged through the streets before being discarded like garbage. Was he guilty? Who cares. Alternative justice has been served.
This is a generalization, of course, but the author revisited several similar cases that had occurred, such as the murders of Calvin Ndlovu and Thabo Mahlangu in Phasha 2006, the Zandspruit revolt and Durban uprisings in 2021, and the aftermath of the gang rapes of eight women near Krugersdorp in 2022, amongst several others. He interviewed witnesses, community members, police officers, and survivors and viewed hours of footage. The universal response to these incidents being: “I don’t condone what happened here, but…” (29)
But. The loaded proviso. But the SAPS is unable to provide the type of policing that the majority of South Africans think they should. But the court and criminal law system is liberal in favour of the accused. Those are the grounds of justification. But is it that simple? And is it true?
The stereotypical South African police officer is corrupt and overweight. When investigating this premise, it is not unfounded. In 2019 Corruption Watch announced the SAPS to be the most corrupt public institution in South Africa (remember the infamous Prinsloo firearms?), and a study in Gauteng revealed only 22% of SAPS members were of normal weight, the rest ranging from overweight to very obese. But… Can we blame members for losing morale when investigators who should be tasked with investigating 30-40 dockets are burdened with up to 500? And, when such investigations are to be conducted in the absence of resources like laptops, paper, lightbulbs, transport, and toilet paper?
The courts are accused of corruption and bias (remember Shaun Abrahams and Nongcobo Jiba?) and of protecting the rights of accused persons rather than those of their victims. A superficial glance confirms this allegation: The death penalty has been abolished, bail is granted to murderers and rapists, there is a presumption of innocence and a right to a fair trial, the defence has access to the State evidence beforehand, but not vice versa, and delaying tactics, as executed by Jacob Zuma, has mockingly become known as “The Stalingrad defence.”. But… The community is not blameless. Most murders in South Africa are not predator-prey scenarios, but instead result from arguments, misunderstandings, and provocation and can be referred to as community self-inflicted anarchy. To add insult to injury: Someone is stabbed in broad daylight in a bustling public space, yet witnesses would refuse to ‘become involved’. Bail is also not granted as a matter of fact. Certain offences are classified as Schedule 5 or 6 (Act 51/1977) and, in those cases, the default setting is that of bail not being granted, and minimum sentences are made compulsory by legislation in respect of certain transgressions.
The history of vigilantism is both interesting and relevant when considering the present situation. Dudula (to push back), first became known in Alexandra in 1912. Fast forward to the present day and vigilantism has been normalized to the extent that Operation Dudula has been registered as a political party in 2024. A comment by Justice Ramaepadi in July 2022 may summarize it best: “More and more, we see civil society taking over and performing the functions that are in terms of the Constitution reserved for… agencies….” (73) We have become a DIY society, not only in terms of security and law-enforcement but also in terms of education, electricity, transport, medical care, etc.
Why? The answer is simple: Those tasked with the services, do not provide them. We thus tend to sympathize with the Dirty Harrys and the John Wicks and fictional speeches like “If my daughter is ever raped. I hope I have the guts to do what he did.” (A Time to Kill – John Grisham, 1989)
But… Consider this. If mob justice is meted out to an innocent person, not only has an innocent party been punished or killed, but the guilty party is also still out there. And “What happens when a less-than-perfect, zero-tolerance system – whether mob or state – comes for you?” (292)
There are no easy answers or simple solutions, and the author never professes to provide any. He does convince the reader to stare into the abyss, however, and to acknowledge the savage lying dormant within.
I really have been impressed with this literary non-fiction offering. Kemp is an astonishingly engaging, skilled writer with legal and journalistic chops that show. In this world of agendas and biases, his fresh curiosity is compelling and I learned a lot whilst enjoying the process, despite the grim subject matter.
A well-written and poignant book that expanded on the general assumptions about vigilantism in South Africa. A must read for people wanting to understand crime in SA in general.