[Amid
rising corruption and waning economic opportunities, political killings are on
the rise. Here in KwaZulu-Natal Province, nearly 40 politicians have been
killed since 2010 in battles over political posts, more than triple the number
in the previous three years, according to government figures. Over the past few
years, dozens more have been killed in provinces like Mpumalanga, North West
and Limpopo. ]
 |
Mariella Furrer for The New York Times
Sizakele Malunga’s son, Dumisani Malunga, was killed over a council seat
in KwaZulu-Natal.
|
When
it was over, Dumisani Malunga, the local party chairman and the front-runner
for the seat, stopped at a friend’s house for a late meal of chicken curry. As
he and another party official, Bheko Chiliza, drove home at 9:30 p.m., a gunman
fired into their car. Their bloody, bullet-riddled bodies were later found
sprawled on the ground beside the white Toyota hatchback.
Mr.
Malunga and Mr. Chiliza were the latest casualties in an increasingly bloody
battle for local political posts in South Africa. Dozens of officials,
including ward councilors, party leaders and mayors, have been killed in what
has become a desperate, deadly struggle for power and its spoils.
The
killings threaten to tarnish the image of the so-called rainbow nation, whose
largely bloodless transition from white minority rule to nonracial democracy
has made it a beacon of peace, tolerance and forgiveness.
Amid
rising corruption and waning economic opportunities, political killings are on
the rise. Here in KwaZulu-Natal Province, nearly 40 politicians have been
killed since 2010 in battles over political posts, more than triple the number
in the previous three years, according to government figures. Over the past few
years, dozens more have been killed in provinces like Mpumalanga, North West
and Limpopo.
The
A.N.C., once a banned liberation movement engaged in one of the 20th century’s
most important struggles for justice and human rights, is now in power, and it
has come under harsh scrutiny for the rampant poverty, deep inequality and
widespread unemployment plaguing the country. A wave of wildcat strikes that
began in August, and the lethal crackdown against them, has fueled anger
at a party seen as increasingly out of touch and whose leaders appear only to
seek to fill their pockets.
That
is a stark change from the A.N.C.’s early days, when people risked their lives
and freedom to join the party and its fight to end apartheid. But in recent
years, the party has sharply increased recruitment of new members, with little
consideration for who joins and why.
Many
new members come in search of wealth and power. Fewer than half of South
African’s young black adults have jobs, and many lack the basic skills to find
work after years of attending substandard schools in townships and rural areas.
For these youths, politics is a seemingly certain route out of poverty. The
rise in corruption has fed the belief that political posts mean kickbacks and
contracts.
In
the ranks of public servants, the post of rural ward council member in a speck
of a town like this one would seem no great prize. The job pays about $150 a
month, and its occupant must digest a steady diet of complaints from residents
about the most fundamental ailments afflicting South Africa: schools that do
not teach, taps that do not deliver water, crime that the police seem helpless
to stop, jobs that are impossible to find.
But
ward councilors are also a conduit for development projects in their areas, and
they can influence the awarding of government contracts. The potential upside —
earnings from bribes or surreptitious deals — is high.
“Due
to the high rate of unemployment, people look for any opportunity to create an
income and capitalize on it,” said Mzwandile Mkhwanazi, the regional chairman
of the A.N.C. in the area that includes Oshabeni. “They are influenced by
levels of poverty. They come up with any ways and means of getting money.”
Such
changes in fortune explain why the post of ward councilor in Oshabeni, an
impoverished town nestled in rolling hills about 15 miles inland from the
Indian Ocean, was so hotly contested. When the woman who held the post died of
illness in August, many local politicians were eager to throw their hats into
the ring.
One
of them was a young taxi driver named Sfiso Khumalo, the leader of the local
branch of the A.N.C.’s Youth League. But Mr. Khumalo did not have a very good
reputation, fellow Youth League members said. He was hotheaded, they said, and
had spent nine years in prison for theft.
“We
knew him as a stealer,” said Gcinile Duma, the secretary of the Youth League.
“He had been in jail and was with the wrong kind of people.”
Other
members of the local A.N.C. branch’s executive committee said they were worried
that Mr. Khumalo was not a suitable candidate.
“Some
people get into politics for the wrong reason, only for money,” said one local
party leader who did not want to be named discussing party business. “Sfiso
Khumalo was not looking to help people, only to help himself.”
Standing
in his way was Mr. Malunga, 42, the party chairman and a popular local figure.
“People
liked Dumisani and saw him as a good leader,” Ms. Duma said.
On
Sept. 9, Mr. Khumalo attended the meeting at the Daughters of St. Francis of
Assisi Convent to declare his candidacy. There was no open confrontation between
Mr. Malunga and Mr. Khumalo, people who attended the meeting said. But when Mr.
Malunga was found shot to death near his house, few doubted who was the prime
suspect.
“We
told the police, ‘We know who did this. It was Sfiso Khumalo,’ ” Ms. Duma said.
After
two days of investigations, the police arrested Mr. Khumalo, who promptly
confessed that he had conspired with a local businessman to have Mr. Malunga
killed. On Sept. 18, Mr. Khumalo was sentenced to 22 years in prison. The
person accused of being his co-conspirator is still in court.
In
a statement, the leader of the A.N.C. in KwaZulu-Natal condemned the violence
and the culture it springs from.
“The
A.N.C. can ill afford the development of the culture of the underworld,
criminality and violent elimination of opponents,” said the provincial
chairman, Zweli Mkhize. “Neither can the A.N.C. afford the association of
political appointment to self-enrichment where ascendancy to office is not
linked with capacity, competence and dedicated service to our people.”
Party
officials paid for Mr. Malunga’s burial, and his brick and stucco grave looks
lavish next to the unadorned earthen mounds in the family graveyard that hold
his father, brother and nephew.
Mr.
Malunga’s mother, Sizakele Malunga, has already buried 5 of her 11 children,
but losing her youngest son was a special blow, she said. Mr. Malunga lived
with her and kept her company in her widowhood.
“I
am lonely, but nothing will bring him back,” Mrs. Malunga said. “I just try to
make the time pass without him.”
Mukelwa
Hlatshwayo contributed reporting.
