Police are failing, but there is a way to destroy Cape Town’s gangster scourge
Heavily armed men dressed in fatigues and balaclavas formed one of several security cordons around President Cyril Ramaphosa when he arrived in Hanover Park, on the Cape Flats, last November to launch the police’s new anti-gang unit. “Where are the gangsters? I want to meet them. I want to take them on,” said Ramaphosa, flashing his trademark grin. He could easily have had his wish, because they were there in the background, monitoring the latest headline-grabbing attempt to stamp them out and sharing jokes with the police officers whose corruption doomed the anti-gang unit from the outset. “They will never stop it,” said one onlooker. Pointing to his pregnant wife’s abdomen, he added: “In there is another gangster.”
Indeed, gangsterism is a way of life in huge areas of the Western Cape, something Ramaphosa is unlikely to understand from within the safety of a phalanx of bodyguards and a blue-light convoy. Hundreds of thousands of people who either belong to gangs or live under their dominion are unable to imagine any other way of life. Poor communities nurture and protect the gangs as much as they profess to despise their malign influence and violent mayhem. It’s the same with police and politicians, who condemn gangsters out of one side of their mouths and collude with them through the other.
The tentacles of gangsterism have spread so widely through the economy of Cape Town and the Western Cape that it has become a significant financial force. The amounts of money circulating through the gang economy, and the legitimate businesses fronting it, are so huge that a poorly planned and executed intervention such as the anti-gang unit might achieve minor short-term successes but will never prevail.
Ask Cape Flats residents what they think could turn the tide of gangsterism, and the river of blood it brings to the streets, and they will typically shrug their shoulders.
They know the police won’t succeed, because they see officers ranging from constables to generals openly working with gangsters. They know politicians have little chance because so many of them are in gang leaders’ pockets and rely on their influence for votes.
Some people talk about curfews, a state of emergency, military intervention. In Manenberg, a small but brave group of unarmed men, women and children has taken to “reclaiming” streets after dark by walking up and down them at a time of day when gun-toting thugs are accustomed to holding sway.
Gang leaders will be unmoved by such ideas. After all, even the lawyer representing the anti-gang unit commander admits it has become a laughing stock in gang circles. The leaders are so rich and powerful that they can justifiably feel impregnable in their armoured vehicles and fortified homes. They are similarly phlegmatic about murder statistics that are on course to make Cape Town the most dangerous city in the world.
The loss of foot soldiers means nothing to these amoral characters because there is no shortage of young men lining up to replace the dead.
And with politicians and police commanders not only divided but easily manipulated, there is little to fear from them. The shambles of the anti-gang unit — launched as a votecatcher, according to its commander’s lawyer, and collapsing after the shooting of no fewer than six members in a single incident — proves that.
In the end, the way to uproot the gang lords is probably going to be through their pockets, since gangsterism is a textbook case proving the biblical admonition that the love of money is the root of all evil.
Edward Kieswetter, recently installed at the helm of the South African Revenue Service, and Willie Hofmeyr, back in command of the Asset Forfeiture Unit, are the people we should be looking to for answers to the intractable question of gangsterism.
The best Ramaphosa can do is empower them, fund them, then get out of the way.
The way to uproot the gang lords is going to be through their pockets