Review, 13-Jan-2013-Page 5, Yellow Review, 13-Jan-2013- Page 5, Black
Review /NU/` 1 1 4ALEAM | # CNCN Sunday Times R-1 JDCP teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a Cosatu has been linked to the resumption of violent farm protests in the Western Cape. Chris Barron asked Cosatu provincial secretary Tony Ehrenreich . . . Why caII for a resumption of protest action at preciseIy the time the fruit must be picked? This is not a strike called by Cosatu or any of the other unions. Do you support the resumption of strikes at this particuIar time? The workers decided to resume the strike now because they understand that this is their best bargaining position. What happens if the fruit rots on the trees as a resuIt? What happens if the workers families continue to go to ruin because theyre required to live on starvation wages? Have you toId them that if the fruit rots they wiII not get paid anything at aII? They know this better than we do. The point the workers make is that theyve tried for years to get a good arrangement with farmers; the farmers have disregarded that. If this strike leads to their common ruin then thats a risk theyre willing to take. Have you pointed out the consequences if farmers defauIt on commitments to their overseas markets? Thats what led them in the past into accepting slave conditions. When they see the Mercedes and the houses of farmers getting bigger every year, they start to wonder whether the budget is really as tight as it is claimed. Is it not disingenuous to impIy that sIave conditions are the norm? Is it not true that onIy a smaII minority are seasonaI workers and the rest are Iooked after quite weII? Were talking about things on an aggregate level, surely. There are good farmers and there are bad farmers. The workers are trying to make sure that the whole industry is a good industry that has some regard for their livelihood. That is not going to happen if there is no industry at aII, is it? If these are the tactics they feel compelled to embark on, its unfortunate that it may threaten the whole industry, but weve got to start taking South African domestic circumstances into account as well as international [ones]. Do they understand that they need the farmers more than the farmers need them? Both should understand they cant do without each other. The farmers say they can do without most of the workers by mechanising? I dont share that view. You cant mechanise table grapes any more than they have. Theyve mechanised as far as they can. They dont employ workers as a favour to them. Is it not true that 90X of the seasonaI workers get paid according to how much they pick, so they can earn much more than the R69 a day we hear about? My information from the workers is that they earn close to that. In the context of a situation in which miIIions are earning nothing at aII, is the answer to cIose down an industry? Nobody wants to close down the industry. Do you support the caII for an internationaI boycott of Western Cape fruit? I support the call for a boycott of those farmers who dont want to pay decent wages. As far as their exports to international markets [are concerned], we should arrange a boycott of their products. Yo u d rather these markets sourced from ChiIe? We draw a distinction between good and bad farmers. The good farmers we want to promote their exports and sales. Why did we not see these protests when the ANC was running the Western Cape? This is not an issue of the ANC or the DA. The issue is that all workers deserve a living wage. What their reasons are for protesting at this stage I dont know. Is it pureIy coincidentaI that the protests started after the ANC circuIated a Ietter saying it wouId make the Western Cape ungovernabIe, starting with agricuIture? I dont know; youll have to ask the ANC that. As far as I know, theyve come out in protest because of the R69 wage they cant live on. At some point the bubble burst in mining; now it has burst in agriculture. These things have their own timing, their own dynamic. SC `/N` OUE5TION5 Comment on this: e-nail. teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a Our prisons need a watchdog with teeth Recent riots show the rights of inmates are being ignored, writes Ruth Hopkins | a naer O |ne beOre nev r|O erup | he gOvernnen dOe nO prOv|de recOure teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a Runaway numbers squeeze universities Either fees must go up, or the National Student Financial Aid Scheme allocations will have to I TS that time of year when thousands of successful matriculants are trying to gain entry to one of South Africas 23 tertiary institutions. Long queues of late applicants have again formed outside some universities. There were no queues outside the University of Johannesburg (UJ) because we provided complete online application facilities, but there were close to 30 000 calls to our call centre and a similar number of hits on our mobisite. It is gratifying to know that our institutions of higher learning are so popular and our young people understand that tertiary education can provide the door to a better future for them, their families and their communities. However, it is also tragic that so many applicants will not make it through the university gate. Our universities are criticised at times for not being more accessible. That is only partly true. They have finite capacity and resources and they must maintain entry requirements to ensure that academic standards are not compromised. Two new universities, in Mpumalanga and the Northern Cape, are being established, but even when they are fully functional our university system will be unable to cope. Many worthy students will fall through the cracks and they are the tip of the iceberg. It is what lies beneath that should really concern us: 56% of pupils who entered the schooling system did not even get to write matric in 2012. Of the 624 000 pupils who sat for the national senior certificate (matric) last year, only 26.6% with an average pass rate of 50% qualified for university exemption to sit for bachelor degrees. Even if one adds those who qualify for diploma studies at universities, there is a huge attrition rate. That is a lot of hope dashed and a massive amount of human potential lost. The country must suffer as a result. Exclusivity may be a general public perception when students and parents see the poignant queues outside our university gates at this time of the year. From inside the university, however, it presents another picture altogether. Universities are under considerable stress. They are under pressure to increase intake numbers and must balance the massification of higher education with the non- negotiable need to maintain academic standards. This is no easy task, particularly for universities such as UJ that are committed to educating the poor, because the overall quality of students coming through the gate reflects deficits in the schooling system, which is forcing university managements to invest heavily in academic and socio-psycho support for many students. In the case of UJ, this support amounted to about R88-million last year and this year the figure will be close to R100-million. In a normal environment, these funds could be used to supplement student fees and bolster the academy. Equally, in a normal environment, a university such as UJ would not be putting almost R30-million a year aside from its own resources to feed hungry students. But we are not in a normal situation and will not be for many years to come. Universities are also expected to immerse themselves in community engagement, which is important in the South African context, of course, but this commitment constitutes a further tax on academic and university-wide resources. Increased student intakes and support mean that academic teaching loads are increasing exponentially. Academics are also under pressure to produce more accredited research. All this indicates a major squeeze on university resources, both financial and human. We have already passed the point where the major source of student funding at public universities, the National Student Financial Aid Scheme, can cope with the demand. The schemes funding stood at R2.6-billion in 2011 and is expected to rise to R3.6- billion this year. UJs forecast allocation for 2013 is R298- million, 8% higher than in 2012, but this falls well short of the current need, which we estimate will result in a shortfall of R192-million, up from R9-million in 2009. At UJ, the annual average growth in applications to the scheme has been 11.8% since 2006, from 7 894 applications to 19 520 this year, 69% of whom qualify for the funding, according to UJs trend analysis. The implication of this staggering growth in demand is that fewer first- years can start their studies and fewer senior students can continue without funding from the scheme. Last year, UJ spent R45-million of its own reserves to augment the schemes funding. This was in addition to R89-million spent on bursaries. This year, it will allocate only R20-million to the scheme, whereas bursary funding has increased to R107-million. Unlike universities in developed countries, where shortfalls have been met by student fee increases, in South Africa fee increases are extremely sensitive and tend to lead to volatile reactions. Equally sensitive is the exclusion of senior students for financial reasons and, unfortunately, this is already happening. Our universities are between a rock and a hard place. As things stand, the funding model is simply not sustainable. We either grasp the nettle of fee increases and cap entry, or scheme allocations have to increase in line with the governments desire to educate its best young minds. In the South African context, the latter is really the only sensible option, but it needs to happen now Professor Rensburg is principal and vice-chancellor of the University of Johannesburg Phylicia Oppelts Bitter Sweet column will be back next week M INISTER of Correctional Services Sbu Ndebele has condemned the riots that broke out in Groenpunt prison on Monday, calling themthe worst in South African history. According to Ndebele: There are proper channels; as inmates there will be complaints; it is the right of inmates to have their food and water. More than 200 inmates in the maximum security unit of the prison in Deneysville in the Free State refused to eat and set fire to the administration buildings and some cells. They turned shower heads and rods into handmade weapons and pelted broken floor tiles at the warders. The inmates were dissatisfied that their complaints about food and a lack of training and rehabilitation programmes were not being dealt with. At the end of November, inmates in the Mangaung prison in Bloemfontein also put up a fight and a nurse and doctor were taken hostage. Interestingly, in neither case did inmates orchestrate escapes amid the chaos and violence. There were no follow-up. Moreover, the inspectorate has not been able to effectively address the serious issue of torture, despite receiving and processing complaints about it. The use of force by prison officials is not legally defined in the criminal code. Inmates are punished disproportionately with electric shocks, batons, leg irons and pepper spray. It took a former inmate and his lawyer to litigate and legally address this issue. In 2004, Bradley McCallum and 230 other inmates were stripped naked, sodomised, beaten and given electric shocks in Port Elizabeths St Albans prison when warders retaliated for the murder of a colleague in the prison. McCallum and his lawyer took the case to the Human Rights Committee in Geneva, which ruled that this treatment could be qualified as torture. The inspectorate could play a role in decreasing and addressing incidences of assault on and torture of prisoners if its findings and recommendations could be legally enforced. Despite including figures on assault in its annual reports, in the past three years there have not been any criminal prosecutions of officials implicated in the assault and death of inmates. This is not because the inspecting judge and his team are indifferent to the fate of prisoners, but because the institutional design of his office does not allow for much interference in human rights violations. The inspectorate is not an independent body, because it is financed by and accountable to the Department of Correctional Services. It receives complaints and notes them, but it has no investigative powers. And, importantly, there is no legislation to enforce the inspecting judges recommendations. There should be a truly independent watchdog with the power to intervene on behalf of this vulnerable group in society, in line with international best practice. This is not only a matter of principle, but can be one of life and death, as the spread of tuberculosis in prisons has made clear. The inspectorate has reported the spread of tuberculosis in prisons for years, warning that it poses a huge risk. The spread of the illness goes unchecked, which has allowed what should be a manageable pulmonary disease to rapidly infect and kill inmates, who are crammed into overcrowded cells with poor ventilation, little sunlight and scarce access to doctors and medication. This situation was addressed when a tenacious former inmate, Dudley Lee, pursued a lengthy legal process that culminated in a Constitutional Court judgment two months ago. It held that the department had acted negligently by not respecting its own health regulations and was therefore responsible for Lees infection with tuberculosis. This will probably set a positive precedent for other inmates infected with the disease. When confronted with the multiple flaws in the prison system, the department points at the shortage of qualified staff. However, there is no lack of financial resources to fix this issue. The first-quarter expenditure report of the department, presented to the parliamentary portfolio committee three months ago, revealed underspending in the programmes for incarceration, rehabilitation, care and social reintegration exactly the areas that caused the Groenpunt and Mangaung inmates to riot. The prison system provides a fertile breeding ground for more rioting. The position of remand detainees, who comprise roughly one-third of the total 160 000 prisoners in South Africa, is arguably worse than that of the Groenpunt and Mangaung prisoners, who were incarcerated in the sentenced section. There are 2 700 awaiting-trial detainees innocent until proven guilty who have been locked up for two years or more because the court system is severely clogged. Educational facilities, including libraries, are nonexistent in remand detention centres. Inmates are classified as non- contact prisoners and are therefore not allowed to touch their loved ones when they visit. It is a matter of time before new riots erupt if the government does not provide inmates with effective legal recourse when their rights and dignity are infringed. The Department of Correctional Services is violating its own rules and regulations by not addressing poor prison conditions. Ndebele and the government need to recognise that there are no proper channels for prisoners grievances. The office of the inspecting judge should therefore be endowed with the power to properly investigate and address human rights violations of prisoners. Hopkins is a journalist for the Wits Justice Project, which investigates miscarriages of justice demands for getaway cars or helicopters and no calls for ransom money. Given the violent nature of the acts, their pleas were surprisingly modest. The Groenpunt prisoners demanded improved conditions, such as a better diet, education and rehabilitation programmes, and the Mangaung inmates wanted to be transferred to a prison in Gauteng so that they would be closer to their loved ones and because they could no longer bear the often violent conditions where they were. If, as Ndebele claims, there are proper channels for grievances, why are inmates resorting to drastic measures? The first port of call for prisoners who wish to file a complaint is the Judicial Inspectorate for Correctional Services, which is headed by an inspecting judge, Vuka Tshabalala. The inspectorates mandate is to monitor and inspect correctional facilities. However, prisoners who have written to or spoken with the Wits Justice Project complain that although the independent correctional centre visitors who work for the inspectorate do register their complaints, there is no From the Sunday Times 50 years ago THE racial isolation of the all-Black students at Turfloop university college is fostering a spirit of narrow nationalism. Paradoxically this, the Governments s h ow institution designed to turn out apartheid- oriented students, is instead producing rabid Black nationalists. These allegations were made yesterday by a graduate of Turfloop who now has a well-paid job with a Rand mining house. He claims that, despite rigid restrictions, censorship and subtle indoctrination, the majority of students at Turfloop are very much politically aware and anti-White in their leanings. 5K@=O 6EAI =K=HO ! '$! teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a teIIussundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 w w w.t i m e s I i v e . c o . z a When a McJob is worse than no work at all Despite the unemployment crisis, young people are not prepared to give up their dreams of a better life T HAT South Africas greatest crisis is unemployment has become a mantra, an article of faith. If we do not create more jobs, it is chanted, our country will soon explode. Why, then, was much of last years social unrest the strikes in the mining sector, the battles in the Western Cape farmlands fuelled by the anger of working people? I think the time has come to reformulate precisely what our greatest crisis is and what it is not. To call it unemployment is just too simple. Oddly enough, research just completed at the other end of the continent, in Addis Ababa, sheds much light on what is happening in South Africa. Marco Di Nunzio, an Italian anthropologist, recently spent two years on the streets of Addiss inner city with young, chronically unemployed people. He soon discovered that all sorts of low-end jobs were available to them waiting tables at cafes, performing menial tasks on construction sites but many young people refused them. Why? Because to join the unskilled labour market was, in a profound sense, to die, to give up hope, to resign oneself to a life at the bottom of the heap. It made far more sense to hold out, to hustle or steal for as long as one could and thus save oneself, as it were, for the dream of a different life. The cause of their pain, in other words, was not that they were unemployed, but that the jobs available would sentence them to lives they did not think worth living. If anyone doubted that a similar syndrome was taking shape in South Africa, last years workplace violence should have made it obvious. In her brilliant reporting on the wine industry strikes for Business Day, Carol Paton writes of meeting farmworkers equipped with false eyelashes, sunglasses and most surprising of all matric certificates . . . Many were young people in their 20s, dressed in fashionable clothes, speaking both English and Afrikaans with fluency. Like so many South Africans, their souls and their very beings were staked on the idea that they could find a way into the middle class. They had worked hard, educated themselves, groomed themselves and sent off their CVs only to find that much of the country was doing the same. The lives they had so fiercely imagined could not find a place in the world. They had turned to seasonal farm labour in despair. And so the violence in which they are partaking is an expression of rage, not against unemployment, but against the jobs they have. In their weekly pay packets they had seen their futures and what they saw were lives they did not want to live. Farmworkers are hardly the only example. A few years ago I interviewed a group of young, unemployed people in Alexandra township, Johannesburg, about their experiences of the police. On my way to the interview I had driven past a branch of McDonalds advertising a vacancy. When some of my interviewees complained of finding no work, I mentioned the McDonalds job. They howled with laughter. When I asked why they were laughing, they howled some more. In their laughter was a story. Yes, we would have more money in our pockets if we took the McDonalds job, they were saying. But the cost of a life flipping burger patties is just too dear. For then we would have thrown in the towel. Out here on the streets we may be poorer, but we can still dream that another life is possible. And that is a lot more valuable than a minimum wage. SAs transition to democracy was famously peaceful. And yet the language in which it was described was revolutionary. The revolution people craved was not the toppling of an order or the execution of a king. It was a personal revolution: the idea that you can begin life in a township and end it in a suburb, that your children will find their way to university, that your grandchildren will become the sorts of people whose floors your parents swept. These dreams are etched into South African souls. They are what freedom means. And so, when South Africans talk about finding work, they are setting the bar very high. They are talking of scaling heights previous generations dared not hope for. That is why 2012 was a year of working peoples rage. It was not unemployment that angered them. It was the jobs they had.