Another Yugoslavia?

If black youths turn away from the liberal, compromising ANC, or if white right-wingers declare an independent Boerestaat that cannot be militarily defeated, or if Natal secedes under the banner of Zulu nationalism, then South Africa could disintegrate along racial and communal lines. The escalating violence and economic collapse could lead to the unraveling of the state, as in Yugoslavia, which has stunned the world by its regression into ferocious nationalism and chauvinism, long thought to have been laid to rest by the defeat of fascism and the rise of civilized modernity. South African state and business interests, together with international forces, want to prevent virulent civil strife at all costs. A right-wing breakaway or military coup, however, could be conceivable under extreme conditions of disorder, even if not successful in the long run.

Thus far, however, most of the massacres in South Africa are not linked to an ongoing ethnic, secessionist conflict, but amount to political killings during a transitional power struggle about the postapartheid order. Artificial ethnic client states, like Ciskei, lack the mass support for genuine ethnonationalism. Yugoslavia has fallen apart because separate nationalities had been forced together. In South Africa, synthetic ethnicities were coerced to be apart and now strive to rejoin in one nonracial state.

Nonetheless, the absence of heavy weapons and outside sponsors for ANC and Inkatha forces offers scant reassurance in a climate of extreme hostility, skillfully stimulated and manipulated by incorrigible right-wing advocates of a master race. After all, the old Group Areas Act amounted to an “ethnic cleansing” of formerly integrated city centers. Much of the violence in Natal and the Vaal townships results in “political cleansing,” with opponents being driven from hostels and squatter camps.

Any analogies between aggressive Serbs and violence-instigating Zulu nationalists are clearly ahistorical and misleading, although there are some superficial similarities. Like the Serbs, Zulu speakers constitute the largest ethnic group in their nation’s cultural mosaic, although both groups are politically divided; like the Serbs behind Milosevic, Zulu nationalists behind Buthelezi cultivate a warrior tradition of heroic resistance against alien conquerors; at the same time, Serbs and Zulus are economically and educationally disadvantaged, compared with more affluent and “westernized” competitors like the Slovenians and Croats or more urbanized Indians, Coloureds, and whites in South Africa. The historical mythologies and contemporary disadvantages make the quest for recognition and entitlement a volatile endeavor for Serbs and Zulus alike.

A closer historical parallel, however, can be drawn between the Serbs and Afrikaner nationalists. Both dominate a divided state and, above all, monopolize its army. In both countries there were pro-Allied and pro-Axis factions in World War II. Only in Yugoslavia, however, did this alignment lead to mutual pogroms, which further stimulated semi-independent republics in the old Yugoslav federation. And in South Africa, unlike Yugoslavia, none of the factions, with the exception of a small Afrikaner minority, strives for an expanded homeland—even the Boerestaat advocates do not envisage an area cleansed of outsiders. In short, in Yugoslavia artificial units of people were forced together and now aim at being apart. Under apartheid, people were coerced to live apart and now strive to unite in one state.

Moreover, there are no internal boundaries in South Africa that are considered as legitimate as those in the artificial Balkan federation. None of the South African provinces and Bantustans possesses an independent viable economy, as is the case in the Balkans. In fact, Bantustan independence was never recognized internationally, and most “homelands” are expected to be fully reintegrated into the new South Africa. The former apartheid state thus represents a much more politically, economically, and culturally integrated society. Unlike Yugoslavia, where the people are divided by shrines of historical battles dating back to 1389 in Kosovo, and where different religions, languages, and alphabets separate the territories, South Africa never belonged to rival empires with expansionist and irredentist designs on their neighbors.

The role of a sizable Muslim community in both settings further illustrates the differences. In 1971 Tito designated Muslims in Yugoslavia to be a separate people, a nationality. Both Croats and Serbs consider Muslims as having been forcibly converted by the Ottoman Turks and, therefore, really Croats and Serbs in an unfortunate disguise. In contrast, the half a million South African Muslims merely perceive of themselves as a religious community.

Despite the horrible massacres and several thousand deaths in political infighting during apartheid’s dying years, the conflicts between the main contenders for political power are still conducted with some restraint, especially when compared to the brutality that is devastating Yugoslavia. In particular, the black-white conflict has remained relatively disciplined, though the struggle between the ANC and Inkatha is becoming more violent. Is it the lack of hostility on the part of the leadership that has prevented racial war? Is it the propagated nonracialism of the ANC that restrains the pent-up anger? Is it that the government has learned more sophisticated methods of control, as evidenced by the assignment of 75 percent of the old riot police to desk jobs after psychological testing? A foretaste of alternative developments was provided by the racist terror campaign carried out by units of the PAC’s military wing Apla (Azanian People’s Liberation Army) with bombings of restaurants in King Williams Town and Queenstown at the end of 1992. Countermeasures were difficult to enact, not only because of the vulnerability of civilian targets but also because the PAC’s political leadership has no operational control over its military wing. For the first time, white South Africans began to grasp how much they owed to the nonracial disciplined opposition of the ANC.

The comparatively disciplined ways of conducting street politics in Cape Town or Pretoria, however, remain fragile and utterly dependent on a moderate political leadership retaining control over its militant following. That is the main purpose of mass action. Yet a few shots by a deranged activist on either side, or more assassinations of political figures, could easily ignite a bubbling volcano. So far, thousands of unemployed youngsters in tattered shoes toyi-toyi together with black students in fashionable clothing behind respectable leaders under the SACP and ANC flags. The unity of “mass action,” however, remains fragile. Ideologically, the frustrated youth are much closer to the PAC, which boycotted the protests because they were aimed at restarting negotiations rather than replacing the regime. The most enthusiastically chanted refrain was “Tambo, give us guns!” Yet Tambo has finally suspended the armed struggle, and few see any prospects of resuming the romanticized guerrilla war, even if negotiations fail.

South Africa also differs from the Balkans in the paternalistic nature of its intergroup relations. In Bosnia and Herzegovina, as in Nazi Germany, the minority is considered the embodiment of evil, the source of a grand conspiracy, the historical enemy that has prevented others from realizing their rightful destiny. Parochial nationalism precludes co-existence with outsiders, who are defined as not belonging to the community of citizens. In South Africa, on the other hand, the ruling minority has treated blacks not as cunning enemies but as inferior children. The “white man’s burden” imposed the task of educating and administering “uncivilized natives,” not the elimination of irredeemable foes. Later, rational labor exploitation precluded the irrational hostility that characterized European conflicts between competing nationalisms. The colonial paternalism of the semifeudal setting in South Africa has allowed flexible adjustments according to shifting economic needs and changing power relations. An excluded majority strives for its rightful share of the state and economy, which the powerholders try to manipulate but cannot extinguish. Reform from above aims at preventing a class revolution from below. South Africa resembles the French Revolution except that the have-nots want to join the bourgeoisie rather than kill them off; they do not want to seize their assets, but share in them.

Ethnic and racial “cleansing” of a territory in which different groups are interspersed cannot be excluded as impossible for all times. However, the ethnic reorganization of an interspersed settlement would signal the failure of a common economy and thereby the source of minority profit and security. Unlike in Yugoslavia, or the former Soviet Union, where different people with separate histories and memories each see great economic advantages in secession, in South Africa separate economies would harm blacks and whites alike. Understanding of this interdependence remains widespread. Some consider it the result of colonial indoctrination, while others attribute it to a long learning process of mutual contact. However, as illustrated by events in Sarajevo, which was even more ethnically integrated, interdependence does not preclude extreme brutality.

Yet in South Africa no political movement deliberately aims at destroying the source of wealth and development in order to triumph over its adversaries. Quarreling elites may achieve economic decline by default but not as a matter of policy. To be sure, each side aspires to reorganize and restructure existing institutions in its own mold, but all have to take their opponents’ strength into account. No party can impose its will by force alone; if any actor resorts to massive violence, it is clearly violence without victory. This consideration may not prevent escalating turmoil, but it motivates those strong counterforces that would lose from a descent into chaos. Thus international capital and local business are in the forefront of engineering stability. Such forces for negotiation and peace, in contrast, have little stake in Bosnia. Accommodation is also muted in the European interethnic conflicts because each side’s wounded identity is bound up with victory. The South African conflict over power and privilege, on the other hand, allows a mutually satisfactory identity on the basis of sharing. Intergroup conflicts are confined to rugby games and soccer stadiums, where competing national anthems are roared and partisan flags are waved.

In Yugoslavia all sides resorted to the battlefield because a victory seemed possible and advantageous after the discredited political rules had broken down. In South Africa, mutually credible political rules are in the process of being established for the first time, because the beneficiaries of past illegitimate power realize the advantage of being legitimate political stakeholders. Even dissident members of the Conservative Party are talking about a nonracial right wing. The Boerestaat dreamers neither envision expelling outsiders nor establishing an irredentist home for all Afrikaners; they only hope to secure a safe fallback position should nonracialism turn sour.

Future conflict will arise if a dogmatic nonracialism denies or represses sizable groups who feel strongly about their ethnic or racial identity. In response, ethnicity or tribalism would reassert itself, claiming suppression of legitimate aspirations. Marginal groups, aware of minority persecution elsewhere, are already invoking the language of self-determination and minority protection in order to gain legitimacy. The irony lies in all sides viewing themselves as victims of the others: Inkatha as the target of MK; the ANC as the victim of Inkatha and colluding government forces alike; the National Party as the potential sufferer of majority tyranny. The ANC/Inkatha conflict over power and turf clearly contains the most explosive potential for a Yugoslavian-type civil war.

The possibility of secessionism makes the constitutional debate about federalism versus centralism particularly significant. Were South Africa to adopt a centralist constitution against the will of regional actors, even if they are a numerical minority, it would risk secessionist movements leading either to civil war or the eventual breakup of the country. If, on the other hand, a federal constitution guarantees meaningful regional autonomy to parties opposed to the national majority, civil war may be avoided. In this respect, Inkatha’s power may lie not in numbers but in its ability to disrupt an imposed settlement.

So far, the bargaining has been bedeviled by simultaneous electioneering. For all parties to reach historic compromises is incompatible with each enhancing its election chances. At the same time, nothing demonstrates more clearly how the South African situation differs from communal conflicts elsewhere than the realistic conviction by all South African parties that they can deeply cut into their opponents’ vote with the right strategies. Few Protestants or Catholics in Northern Ireland are swayed by changing party politics; few Serbs would vote for Croats, and vice versa. In South Africa, however, persons of all racial groups have aligned themselves with the ANC and Inkatha, and more blacks can be expected to support formerly exclusive white parties. In this difference lies the realistic hope that South Africa can avoid becoming another Yugoslavia.