Calling the police to report trouble isn’t something residents of Phoenix, Durban, readily do. "They never respond when you phone for issues like housebreaking or [other matters] in the area," says longtime resident Sham Maharaj. "They always have issues, such as that they’re short-staffed or [have] no vehicles."
Phoenix is a largely Indian community of about 600,000 residents. Like countless other communities around SA, it has a big problem with drug use, illegal shebeens and gangsterism.
When the unrest hit in July last year, Maharaj and his terrified neighbours watched as mobs looted a nearby mall. A police van made it to the scene — but it had brought just two police officers. They could only look on, completely overwhelmed, as the looters made off with goods.
"[Afterwards] police were saying they had been told not to use live ammunition, for example, or not to confront people when [they are] overwhelmed, but rather [to] wait for the army," Maharaj says. "They were very unprepared."
In his view, the violence in Phoenix in July was unprecedented, leaving residents traumatised. (The community had apparently expected some bloodshed in 1994, but that didn’t happen.) "In people’s lifetime, this kind of thing has never happened," he tells the FM. "When things were being burnt down, people thought it was the end."
It’s common in SA for communities to turn to private security companies when they are affected by crime. Phoenix is no different: over the years, the private security sector has thrived, and 50-100 operators ply their trade there today, by Maharaj’s count.
It was these companies that stepped in to help residents protect their homes during the unrest — but their role was controversial. Not helping matters was that vigilante groups and criminal elements also became involved, Maharaj says.
In the course of the violence, 33 black people were killed in Phoenix. Investigations into their deaths, and those of the rest of the 354 people who died in the unrest countrywide, have been slow.
The July unrest was a blight on law enforcement agencies in SA. A report by an expert panel appointed by President Cyril Ramaphosa to look into the official response to the unrest found that intelligence structures had been unprepared and that police had failed to stop the rioting and looting.
"In some instances, they did not get any intelligence upon which to plan operations," the report says.
It’s a failure that has amplified South Africans’ lack of trust in the police.
According to a recent Human Sciences Research Council (HSRC) report, South Africans live in fear of crime because of their lack of faith in law enforcement. The annual survey — conducted through face-to-face interviews with a representative sample of 2,500-3,200 respondents — found that trust in the police is at a record low.
It’s a decline that correlates with a broader reduction of public confidence in democratic institutions over the past 15 years, according to Benjamin Roberts and Steven Gordon, the authors of the study.
Only 27% of respondents surveyed in the latter half of 2021 said they trust or strongly trust the police. This is a drop of seven percentage points from the year before — an outcome the researchers link to the July riots.
"Many have criticised the poor performance of the police during the unrest," Roberts and Gordon write.
It’s not as though levels of trust in the police were high to begin with. Between 1998, when the HSRC started the survey, and 2010, the average level of trust in the police was relatively static, ranging between 39% and 42% in most years. But it declined sharply after 34 striking mineworkers were shot dead by the police at Marikana in August 2012.
Surprisingly, the 2020 survey results didn’t show a significant dip in public trust, despite the police’s heavy-handed behaviour in enforcing lockdown rules. The police’s failure to act last July, however, has unwound public faith in law enforcement.
Strangely, though, it wasn’t in KwaZulu-Natal — the epicentre of the violence — that the biggest drop in trust was found; it was in the Western Cape, where only 22% of respondents said they trust the police.
Still, those who "had been a recent victim of crime displayed significantly lower levels of trust in the police", Roberts and Gordon write. Those who lived in fear of crime did too. And perceived corruption, unfair and disrespectful treatment and lack of transparency all affected respondents’ faith in the police.
It’s a problem, given the important role perception can play. "Internationally, the legitimacy of legal authorities is recognised as crucial for the state’s ability to function in a justifiable and effective manner," Roberts and Gordon write.
It’s not that government leaders are unaware of the problem. Defence minister Thandi Modise told a briefing in February that cabinet ministers "are concerned about the low level of trust between the law enforcement agencies and the public" and that efforts are under way to restore this.
Police minister Bheki Cele, at the same briefing, pointed to a lack of capacity. He said that at the time of the riots 12,000 public order police members were needed but there were only 5,000. The police service is recruiting 12,000 officers over the next two years to help make up for the shortfall.
"We have accepted that there were gaps in dealing with the situation in all the relevant law enforcement agencies," Cele said at the briefing.
He also suggested that community policing forums be revived.
At the top, there is an effort to clean up too. Police commissioner Khehla Sitole — a previously little-known career officer whose appointment by former president Jacob Zuma initially elicited a positive response — was let go by Ramaphosa soon after the report by the expert panel appeared in February.
But much of the problem is historical. Ziyanda Stuurman, author of Can We Be Safe? The Future of Policing in SA says the root of the mistrust lies in the role the police and military played in shoring up the apartheid regime.
"For many decades, and particularly during the state[s] of emergency in the 1980s, the police and military were engaged in the suppression of dissent and anti-apartheid activism that often resulted in extreme police brutality, the disappearance of activists and many fatal clashes between the police and communities," she says.
Similar kinds of police brutality still play out today, especially in poorer communities.
The lack of trust in the police’s ability to apprehend criminals or to investigate crimes successfully often leads to community members engaging in vigilante violence. "This necessarily makes communities a lot more unsafe and more prone to public violence," Stuurman says.
It also means that private security companies thrive in more affluent areas.
In a terrible irony, it is the most vulnerable who suffer the most from a lack of trust in law enforcement. In particular, Stuurman refers to women and the LGBTQI+ community. They "often don’t feel empowered to report various crimes, particularly cases of gender-based violence, as the lack of trust in the police also manifests as the perception that they will be traumatised twice: first by their attackers and again in their interactions with the police".
Stuurman adds that immigrants likewise feel they are ignored or not taken seriously when they try to report crimes.
Even where people can afford private security, these companies are ultimately accountable to their paying clients and shareholders. It makes them a poor substitute for a functional police service.
"These companies have also been accused of exploiting workers, engaging in racial profiling and harassing people experiencing homelessness, or even overtly denying people free movement or access to public spaces," Stuurman explains.
She says more capable police leadership, real operational and policy changes and less wasteful expenditure of the police budget — which is upwards of R95bn a year — will help to allocate resources more equitably to areas where they are needed.
"Soft" initiatives, such as community fairs, outreach programmes or partnering with civil society organisations on community safety could also help engender trust and counter negative perceptions, Stuurman adds.
"The one thing that will increase trust is the improvement of the police’s ability to solve crimes," she says.
"When people can feel confident that police officers won’t take bribes; when police officers are held accountable after they use excessive force or are violent towards members of the public; and when police officers have the resources they need to investigate crimes and to build strong cases for prosecution, I think we will see trust being built and relations improving."
Back in Phoenix, Maharaj says he previously tried to be part of the solution by joining the local community policing forum. But he gave up when no visible action resulted from forum meetings. He now convenes the Phoenix Ubuntu Forum, a coalition of local organisations that interacts with police officers and management to point out problems.
On that count, not much has improved, he says. But the forum also provides food to the needy and runs reconciliation projects in the community. Strengthening the fabric of society, Maharaj hopes, will go some way towards preventing the events in July from recurring.
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