The Pathway to Murder:
A Social Psychological Study of the
Evolution of Violence in an Industrial Dispute

by Lloyd Vogelman

Chapter Seven: The Psycho-Social Benefits of Violence

Introduction

Every act of violence in which there is hostile intent has a goal and a motive. While some violent behaviour may appear senseless, for the perpetrator the act always has meaning and is associated with a desired outcome. And, although there are numerous motivations for each act of violence, the psycho-social benefits that violence offers the offender are common to most forms of violence. Because the Eight perpetrated their violence within a collective, the benefits of their violence had a strong social dimension, and so I will refer to them as psycho-social. Moreover, the Eight's membership of a subculture of violence and the social sanction that this subculture afforded to violence seemed to make it easier for them to procure benefits through violent behaviour. As a result of the potentially rich rewards yielded by violence, the Eight may have been reluctant to desist from the behaviour, and so these rewards can also be seen to have helped to sustain the Eight's commitment to violence, as well as the subculture of violence in COSATU, House. The perpetrator is not necessarily aware of all of these benefits prior to committing violence - he may be aware of some, because of past exposure to violence, but others are only discovered in the course of committing violence.

It is not always possible to determine the extent to which the quest to obtain these psycho-social benefits contributes to the commission of violence. In the case of the Eight, an assessment of the contribution of this quest was obscured by a multitude of other causes and facilitators of violence. The purpose of this chapter, however, is not to appraise the rewards that the Eight may have hoped to acquire through their violence, but rather to examine the rewards that they may have actually obtained. In so doing, at least a few of the benefits that the Eight may have expected to secure through their violence will become apparent. It will also become evident that violence probably enabled the Eight to redress a number of discontents that were fostered by their deprivation.

The emphasis of this chapter is on the Eight's violence within the time frame of the 31st March to the 28th April, that is, from the onset of violence in COSATU House up until the killings at Prolecon. This chapter corresponds with phases seven (violence) to nine (extreme violence) of the model, and is closely connected to the exploration of the subculture of violence and the different types of violence in COSATU House that were described in chapter six.

Any attempt to analyse the psycho-social benefits of the Eight's violence is complicated by the changing nature of their violence and the diverse benefits that are offered by different forms of violence. Nevertheless, there are sufficient commonalities that accompany both the assaults and murders of non-strikers to warrant a general examination of the benefits of violence that the Eight may have obtained. Furthermore, some of the variations that do exist are more quantitative than qualitative. Thus the more intense forms of violence that occurred during the strike, such as murder, furnished the Eight with similar benefits as assault, but in a more exaggerated form. Thus it is possible that the Eight, having discovered the appeal of violence, engaged in more brutal violence because they believed it to be more psychologically and socially advantageous. In this way, the rewards that the Eight seemed to acquire through assault may have facilitated their subsequent participation in murder.

My interviews with the Eight did not specifically explore the psycho-social benefits of their violence. Even if they had done so, the Eight's responses to direct questions in this regard may have been circumscribed by the heightened self reflection and psychological deliberation that is demanded by such questions. Consequently, there will be times in this chapter, where in addition to the academic literature, I will make use of my own consultations and interviews with other violent offenders, in order to speculate on some of the benefits that the Eight may have acquired through their actions.

At different junctures between the 31st March and the end of the 28th April, all of the Eight, with the exception of Sibisi, had assaulted non-strikers - mainly by punching and slapping. As I stated in chapter one, so as to eschew cumbersome phrases such as "the Eight with the exception of Sibisi", I will continue to refer to "the Eight", even though not all of the benefits described - and particularly those associated with actual killing - are relevant to Sibisi. However, because Sibisi did support the strikers' violence in some respects, although not necessarily its form, he is likely to have obtained vicarious satisfaction from the assaults on the non-strikers. Consequently he may have shared in many of the benefits described below, albeit to a lesser extent.

One further qualification is necessary. Only Molefe (stabbing), Mamphaga (throwing of the rock), Muangedzo (throwing of the rock) and Matshile (burning) were directly involved in the killing of non-strikers at Prolecon. Netshitungulwane, Rikhotso and Dzevhe were enthusiastic members of the party of strikers at Prolecon, but did not participate in the actual killings. Thus the benefits described in relation to murder may apply, but to a lesser degree, to Netshitungulwane, Rikhotso and Dzevhe.

Although the various benefits of violence are inter-related, for the purposes of clarity they have been examined independently in this chapter. The chapter has also been divided into four broad sections: the first examines those benefits that are directly related to the interaction between perpetrator and victim; the second focuses on those benefits which are dependent on the commission of violence within a group; the third concentrates on violence as an act of social benevolence and political liberation; while the fourth explores violence as a behaviour which affirms masculinity. Before I explore the benefits acquired through the victim-offender dynamic, it is necessary to briefly discuss the idea of self worth, as this concept is germane to all the psycho-social benefits of violence that will be referred to below.

1. Violence and Self Esteem

1.1 Self Concept and Satisfaction

According to Pikunas (1976), a sense of self refers "to the acquired set of feelings and attitudes that a person has toward his own appearance, powers and behaviour" (p. 100). A sense of self also incorporates the individual's awareness of how he differs from or is similar to others (Kinch, 1963). In addition, the individual's self-definition and aspirations for himself are confirmed or denied in the context of relationships (Schellenberg, 1974), and so to some extent, the individual is reliant on others to complete a picture of himself (Goffman, 1955, 1956).¹

This study is not concerned with the disparate ways in which the Eight's sense of self evolved, but rather with the ways in which the Eight attempted to improve their self concept. To develop a positive self esteem, an individual must evaluate himself positively in terms of attributes, positions, roles, values and characteristics that are important to him, and to those to whom he wishes to endear himself.² The belief that these attributes and positions can be acquired through certain behaviours, such as violence, partly explains the impetus for such conduct. This understanding of violence is a popular notion in the psychological literature (see chapter two), and particularly the literature that focuses on damage to self esteem in the childhood years (Fromm, 1974; Gilligan, 1991; Miller, 1987; Straker, 1992; Toch, 1972; Vogelman, 1990a).

While the absence of a desired attribute or attributes may contribute to a lowering of self esteem, this does not necessarily imply that the individual will have an extraordinarily poor self concept. Individuals are able to make use of a multiplicity of psychological and behavioural defences to vindicate, cope with and compensate for deficiencies in their lives (Bettelheim & Rosenfeld, 1993). For example, prior to the strike the Eight were concerned about their lack of strength and courage to confront those in authority, yet they did not perceive of themselves as utterly feeble - mainly because they did not blame themselves, but rather the power that was wielded by SATS and the government, for their passivity. By holding external rather than internal sources responsible, they were more likely to be able to view themselves in a more positive light (Fitch, 1970). Deficiencies can also be weathered through positive reframing (Breakwell, 1986). For instance, some of the Eight avoided any chagrin about their poor wages by asserting that they had not sold out to the "system" (Dzevhe and Mamphaga, Reinterview, 26/2/1991). Later in this chapter I will also demonstrate that violence was one of the defences that circumscribed the damage to the Eight's self esteem.

Strike action provided the Eight with qualities that they had previously lacked, but desired for themselves. They were able to forcefully articulate their grievances, assert their power, and challenge an unjust authority. In so doing, their self esteem is likely to have been enhanced. However, the series of setbacks and frustrations they encountered as the dispute progressed may have discounted some of the personal gains which had been made through striking, despite their use of psychological and behavioural defences. For example, in the interviews the Eight claimed that SATS' unyielding stance on some of their demands, and their physical vulnerability in relation to the police, made them feel powerless and helpless. The Eight's valued status as breadwinners, another factor which was crucial to their self esteem, was also undermined during the strike. The longer the strike endured and the longer they did not earn a wage, the more their position as breadwinners within their families was subverted. Even in the context of the Eight's moral stance of loyalty to the group, and their pride in the sacrifices they endured by going on strike (see section 4.2), this had a negative effect on self esteem.

Muangedzo, for example, commented on his inability to make a financial contribution to his family:

The strike caused many family problems. I felt very much unhappy because I couldn't offer my family anything - I couldn't give my wife anything or my parents and children. I felt as if I was letting them down. (Muangedzo, Interview)

The Eight's violence towards the non-strikers, and the sense of control and power that they probably derived from this behaviour (see section 2.3), may have assisted them in stifling or overcoming any adverse feelings stemming from a loss of status in the family. They may also have attempted to counteract these feelings through violence or threats of violence against family members (see section 5.2). It is also possible that violence may have afforded the Eight the opportunity to subdue or surmount the deleterious effects of deficiencies stemming not only from the dispute, but also from the experience of familial relations, apartheid and employment at SATS in previous years. These benefits will be explored in the sections below.

2. Benefits Acquired in the Victim-Offender Dynamic

2.1 A New Self

Violence has the capacity to invert power relations instantaneously, as it can transform or confirm the perpetrator's self image by swiftly providing him with enormous power over his victim. For individuals such as the Eight, who have experienced much powerlessness, violence may offer them the opportunity to discover new and forceful aspects of themselves. Similarly, for the victims, in this case the non-strikers, violence is likely to have engendered the perception that the Eight, and others who physically abused them, were exceptionally powerful (Nieburg, 1962). Thus the capacity of violence to transform dynamics between people provided the Eight with the prospect of initiating a new sense of self.

Fanon's (1963) writings give credence to the notion of the ability of violence to create a new identity. He portrays violence as a cleansing force in the colonised's struggle against the colonisers. Fanon contends that through violence, the colonised are able to destroy their enemy, liberate themselves from political oppression, enjoy a cathartic release from tension (see chapter two), and alter their imposed status of subordination. In addition, violence enables the colonised to refute their marginality, and to counteract passive acceptance of their humiliation.

The Eight's violence partly confirms many of Fanon's assertions about violence, as they did destroy some of their enemy, and they seemed to experience a sense of power at the time of their violence. Nonetheless, their case also highlights some of the limitations of Fanon's theory of violence (see chapters two and six). Fanon (1963) does not emphasise contingent conditions such as economic recession, relative deprivation and the growth of political organisation, which often interact with the inherent conditions of oppression and racism before violence emerges. He asserts that once the oppressed become dissatisfied with their hardship and become aware of their self worth, violence will follow. However, as the case of the Eight demonstrates, discontent and a recognition of one's humanity does not inevitably result in an engagement in violence. The Eight first demonstrated their perceptions of self worth and their demands for better treatment through non-violent action, in the form of striking. Only when this attempt failed, and in the face of heightened disappointment about their ability to win the strike through non-violent strike maintenance behaviours, did the Eight embark on violence.

2.2 Violence as a Means of Overcoming Shame and Humiliation

Much of the literature on homicide offenders suggests that murderers are hypersensitive to criticism and "assaults on their character", because they were profoundly humiliated as children (Fromm, 1974; Gilligan, 1991; Toch; 1972).³

In his paper The interpretation of violence: From homicide to genocide, Gilligan (1991) addresses this subject, and cites the work of Frazier et al. (no reference given), who conducted research on 31 multiple and mass murderers:

The individuals who grew up to commit these murders differed from their non-violent siblings by virtue of the fact that they were singled out in their families for exposure to shame and humiliation almost like scapegoats, as the "whipping boys" so to speak, on whom the families' needs to taunt and tease and ridicule was discharged. As they (Frazier et al. put it, "The recurrence of a pattern of verbal shaming and humiliation by parents before (the) children's friends and other family members was recounted frequently and corroborated by family members … the high incidence of significant and repeated personal humiliation and sense of powerlessness and personal inadequacy cannot be overlooked. The usual pattern is a series of repeated and memorable humiliations accompanied by severe feelings of shame at the seeming personal inadequacy to extricate oneself from a powerless position. (Gilligan, 1991, p. 30)

One way in which the shamed attempt to ward off the re-experiencing of these emotions is through assaulting and killing others. In documenting the case history of a murderer, Gilligan (1991) writes:

In short, one does not have to be possessed of any special perceptiveness or knowledge of human nature to suspect that the logic that underlay his murder and mutilation of another person was the emotional logic of endless and bottomless feeling of shame, humiliation, weakness, inferiority, incompetence, sexual and financial inadequacy. When these painful feelings become overwhelming because a person has spent a lifetime feeling humiliated, and powerless to extricate himself from that position by any means short of violence, even the most trivial real or imagined insults, slights, or humiliations can be so devastating as to threaten to bring about the collapse of self esteem and thus the death of the self. His behaviour, as we explore it further, can be seen as a desperate attempt-what could be more desperate? --- to ward off these catastrophic experiences; and I will suggest that we cannot understand his grotesque crime without understanding the logic of shame. (p. 18)

Although all of the Eight may have suffered shame and humiliation as a result of childhood experiences, it would appear that only Molefe and Mamphaga, who were physically abused as children, were likely to have suffered the profound shame and inadequacy to which Gilligan refers. However, even if this was the case, the potential of the moderating influence of mediating factors, such as support from other family members, must be considered (see chapter six). I am not implying that the logic for their violence or their murderous behaviour at Prolecon was their desire to overcome the shame that may have originated in their childhood, rather I am suggesting that this quest may have contributed to their violence. It is also important to point out that any feelings of shame that Molefe and Mamphaga, or any of the other members of the Eight, experienced probably also derived from adult experiences in the occupational, political and social realms.

It was apparent from the interviews and the court record that all of the Eight perceived the non-strikers to be contemptuous, disrespectful and harmful (see chapter five). The antagonism provoked by such perceptions may also have been intensified because the Eight possibly associated the non-strikers with others who had degraded them in the past. This type of association may have been particularly pronounced in the cases of Molefe and Mamphaga, because of their experience of physical abuse. Thus for the Eight, the non-strikers may have represented, to a lesser or greater extent, both an objective and a symbolic source of indignity, and hurting the non-strikers may have been symbolic of vengeance against all of those who had made them feel powerless, inadequate and inferior in the past - parents, peers, employers, police and the government.

2.3 Power, Control, and Centrality

For the Eight, violence was an acute act of self assertion.⁴ It was synonymous, as Anthony Storr (1970) suggests, with activity and aggressive strength, and in this way it may have exemplified an alternative to dependency, passivity and their lack of control over their lives (Canneti, 1981). The Eight repeatedly alluded to feelings of potency acquired through violence. Muangedzo, for example, stated: "When I hit them [the non-strikers] I felt stronger" (Reinterview, 26/2/91). He experienced similar feelings while in the car which transported the first three non-strikers to Prolecon:

I was thinking of ways how am I going to kill them and what I would use. Then I was feeling very strong … and too much angry. (Muangedzo, Interview)

During the assaults at COSATU House, and even more so on the way to Prolecon, the non-strikers were visibly frightened. This was likely to have confirmed the new-found authority of Muangedzo and his partners. The Eight were no longer at the mercy of their adversaries, as they often were at SATS and at different junctures during the strike. The power relationship was now inverted - and this was epitomised when the non-strikers begged for compassion before they were victimised.

Although the Eight's violence was subject to informal social and moral constraints, it was virtually unequalled as a means of empowerment. Through their violence, the Eight could preside with almost God-like command over the fate of their victims, and they were able to command their absolute attention (Fromm, 1974). The Eight felt increasingly marginalised after SATS' withdrawal from negotiations on the 31st March, and their violence can also be interpreted as an attempt to be taken seriously and not to be ignored.⁵

2.4 Physical Strength and Prowess

Earlier, I cited Muangedzo's statement that he felt stronger after he "hit" the non-strikers. Other members of the Eight also stated that they felt "strong" during their physical attacks on non-strikers. In order to grasp how it was possible for the Eight - as members of a large group who assaulted defenceless victims - to perceive of themselves as "strong", it is necessary to acknowledge both the sense of power that the Eight seemed to have acquired through their violence, and also the possibility that the Eight saw their violence as a duel in which they pitted their strength against the abducted non-strikers and proved their physical potency.

The minute degree of latitude that the non-strikers were allowed during the assaults may have been an unconscious attempt by the Eight to evoke an atmosphere of contest and combat. The non-strikers were seldom bound, and they had sufficient freedom of movement to protect themselves in minor ways, for example, they placed their hands over their faces when punched or slapped. Those that were sjambokked attempted to create some space between their bodies and the sjambok when receiving lashes. In crushing or helping to crush these small acts of resistance, the Eight may have increased their sense of combat and supremacy.⁶

The feelings of strength and prowess that the Eight experienced during their violence may also have been related to the fact that their violence constituted a contravention of legal codes. Such a contravention, despite their confidence about escaping arrest, may have been perceived as courageous. Also, because these legal codes were created by a powerful oppressor, it is possible that for the Eight, the greater the infraction of these codes, the greater their sense of bravado. Consequently, while outsiders may interpret some of the Eight's acts of violence as the acts of bullies, for the Eight, their violence may have represented supreme acts of courage and defiance.

2.5 "Existential Equality"

The Eight's frustration with the progress of the strike after the 31st March appears to have fuelled both their persecutory anxiety, and their envy of those who were in a better position. The non-strikers were included in this category of those who were envied and persecutory, as they continued to earn a wage, and they were also perceived as a threat to the strikers' futures (see chapter five). Through physical victimisation, the Eight may have hoped to make the fortunate less fortunate, and so to rid themselves of the dissatisfaction caused by this imbalance. Fromm (1974) describes such violence as a quest for existential equality, while Rude (1981) refers to it as the wish to impose natural justice.

In the context of their anger, their despair about the efficacy of non-violence and their investment in belonging to a subculture of violence, the greater the Eight's hostility towards the non-strikers, the greater the possibility that they would use violence to attain existential equality. In many respects, the non-strikers who were assaulted at COSATU House may have been victims of the Eight's desire to even the score with the police for their violent attacks on strikers at depots and their regular detentions and habitual harassment of strikers throughout the dispute. After the police killings of five strikers on the 22nd April, this apparent quest for existential equality was extended to involve the murder of non-strikers.

2.6 Excitement and Fun

Because the experience of violence is so profound, in that the offender's power is immense and the victim's fear overwhelming, the offender frequently feels ecstatic and exhilarated. When I first encountered explanations that asserted that violence is pleasurable and fun, I believed them to be inane. Yet the more time I spent with men (including the Eight) who had murdered, assaulted or raped, the more obvious it became that this assertion was often valid.⁷ Netshitungulwane and Matshile, for example, stated:

Although I was in the hall the whole day, I was happy … and at the beating (in the small hall) I was quite excited and I could feel my heart beat. (Netshitungulwane, Interview)

I was cross and angry and I was also very happy I felt good because maybe through punishment they will understand. (Matshile, Interview)

The above statements are similar to many others that have been made by other offenders with whom I have worked, and they corroborate the findings of many other authors (Buford, 1991; Fromm, 1974; Gilligan, 1991; Malan, 1990). The following two statements are taken from my interviews with the accused in other cases of crowd killings. The first statement was made by a striker in the AFCOL dispute, who participated in the killing of a non-striker, while the second was made by one of the offenders who necklaced an alleged informer in Mlungisi, near Queenstown (for more details on these cases, see chapter one).

When they saw me with a small group of others bringing Mr Abrahams [a non-striker], I was high and they were cheering that we have captured a scab. I felt very big when the crowd was cheering like this. (Interview, AFCOL dispute)

I was feeling fast, I was very pleased with what I have seen [the necklacing]. I was feeling good as [s]he was dying because of what [s]he had done. It was fair revenge. I was feeling excited, my heart beating fast, I was very pleased with what I have seen. I slept fine that night, I did have dagga [cannabis] that night but not a lot. The next day I felt very happy because others who were doing the same thing would see what would happen to them if they did these things. (Interview, Mlungisi dispute)

A similar sentiment was expressed by Oscar Gumede, an ANC activist, in his description of his involvement in ANC attacks on Inkatha members in Natal in 1990:

I must also admit that I enjoyed the excitement of battle: the sight of a sea of burning shacks and desperate men running for dear life. I loved it all. (Weekly Mail, May 30-June 6, 1991)

The perception of violence as fun is not exclusive to resistance politics. Torture victims in South Africa often described how their torturers relished the pain they inflicted through beatings and electric shocks. Rian Malan (1990) in his book My Traitor's Heart describes police action in the 1980s, and underscores the pleasurable component of their violence:

We're at a roadblock near Soweto, where white soldiers have stopped a car driven by a light skinned black man. They ask him, "Why are you so white?" Then they beat him to death with their helmets. "They didn't say why", says a witness. "I think they were just doing it for fun". (p. 275)

The pleasure that these policemen are alleged to have derived from their violence may have been related to their capacity to inflict suffering on others arbitrarily and, through murder, to prevent their victim from ever acquiring existential equality. The Eight, however, seemed to obtain pleasure because their violence assured them existential equality with the more powerful and fortunate. Gilligan (1991) makes special reference to the relief that violence provides to those who feel acute deprivation and despondency:

Only the living dead could want to kill the living; no one who loved life, who relished or even felt his own aliveness, could want to kill others. But the living dead need to kill others, because for them the most unendurable anguish is the pain of seeing that others are still alive. (p. 3)

Thus violence may have been life affirming for the Eight because it was antithetical to the increasing gloom that began to pervade their lives after SATS withdrew from negotiations on the 31st March. The mania of violence could conceivably have acted as an antidote to the Eight's dejection and despair.

The ability of violence to enliven is a subject emphasised by Buford (1991), in his book Among The Thugs, which documents his experiences with Manchester United and other football supporters.⁸ He vividly describes the joy and excitement that these supporters obtained through their violent thuggery. He recounts, for instance, his conversation with a fan soon after an incident of violence in Turin, Italy:

He said that he was very, very happy, and that he could not remember ever being so happy … . It was a strange thought: here was someone who believed that, at this precise moment, following a street scuffle, he had succeeded in capturing one of life's most elusive qualities. (p. 88)

Buford explains the happiness that violence engenders in terms of the behaviour's simplicity and intensity. Such is the power of violence to bestow this happiness, that Buford, despite his abhorrence of the thuggery of these football supporters, admits to experiencing pleasure as a result of his involvement in the violence:

I am attracted to the moment when consciousness ceases: the moments of survival, of animal intensity, of violence, when there is no multiplicity, no potential for different levels of thought: there is only one - the present in its absoluteness. Violence is one of the most intensely lived experiences and, for those capable of giving themselves over to it, is one of the most intense pleasures … . There on the streets of Fulham, I felt … I had literally become weightless … I realised later that I was on a druggy high, in a state of adrenalin euphoria. (p. 207)

For Buford, the reason that many British football supporters embrace violence with such enthusiasm is because they are representatives of a "bored, empty, decadent generation … . It is … so deadened that it uses violence to wake itself up. It pricks itself so that it has feeling, burns its flesh so that it has smell" (p. 265).

From the interviews with the Eight, it seems that they experienced a sensation of delight both during and subsequent to the violence. For example, during the drinking sessions that took place in various locales in COSATU House, the Eight enjoyed swopping stories about the violence that they had committed or witnessed. In addition to recalling the "adrenalin euphoria" of their involvement in violence, such reminiscing perhaps also enabled the Eight to summon to consciousness many of the other benefits that they had accrued through their participation in violence.

Many perpetrators, once they have experienced the elation of violence, have a strong desire to repeat the experience, and there is little reason to suggest that the Eight were any different. Violence becomes, as Buford (1991) describes it "the crack, the buzz, and the fix" (p. 206). However, in order to capture the same measure of, or indeed increased excitement, the violence may need to become more extreme. This factor may help to account for the progression of the Eight's violence from assault, to participation in murder.

3. Psycho-Social Benefits Associated with Group Membership

The benefits that the Eight seemed to acquire through the perpetration of violence as part of a collective are inextricably linked to the importance they attached to group membership. Their relationship with other strikers, outlined in chapter six, was likely to be influential in confirming, denying or strengthening claims about themselves (Schellenberg, 1974), Thus the Eight appeared to be largely reliant on other group members to complete an ideal picture of themselves (Goffman, 1955). This picture seemed to include a perception of themselves as respected, socially benevolent, politically committed and manly. And, because violence was a valued norm of the group and was associated, as I will show, with such attributes, it had the capacity to facilitate the acquisition of such self definitions.

3.1 Violence as a Mechanism of Group Bonding and Validation of Group Membership

In the previous chapter, I described some of the ways in which the Eight's violence enhanced their bond with other strikers. The approbation awarded to violent behaviour, and the collective nature of the violence, seemed to ensure that it was a shared and valued experience. And, because the Eight's violence conformed to the group norm, it is likely to have further validated their membership of the group.

3.2 Recognition and Respect

There was little opportunity for the Eight to acquire social status through formal institutions in apartheid South Africa. The Eight did, however, have the opportunity to obtain this status within the framework of the range of groups to which they did belong, for example, the family, the church, and the strikers. As violence was one of the norms of the group of strikers, the use and support of violence became a critical factor in the Eight's avoidance of social ostracism (see chapter six), and also it appears in their procurement of social respect and recognition.

The above statements should not be understood to infer that the privileged do not acquire social approbation through violence. The militarisation of South African society in the 1980s (Cock & Nathan, 1989) gave enormous scope to whites who aligned themselves with the government to obtain status through military prowess. However, unlike black South Africans who were denied entry into a range of institutions, these whites had a plethora of other opportunities in which they could secure social respect. The implications that differential access to social and educational structures has for violence is outlined by Gilligan (1991) in his discussion of this issue in the context of North American society:

Unfortunately, achievement and creativity require time, patience, talent, education and some minimal degree of social and economic advantage, as well as sheer good luck; and many people, and many peoples, have not had such fortunate combinations of both internal and external resources - whereas violence always lies ready to hand (literally). (p. 19)

In view of the pervasive nature of the Eight's deprivation, Gilligan's observations are particularly pertinent. The desire for respect and achievement among different socio-economic groups in New York is also a theme in Borgios' (1989) work. In his engrossing description of inner city violence and the crack trade in Spanish Harlem, Borgios contends that the members of this subculture have similar goals to the wealthy and those who possess formal power, but they lack the means to achieve these goals through conventionally accepted avenues:

They are struggling determinedly - just as ruthlessly as the railroad and oil robber barons of the previous century and the investment banker and "yuppies" of today - to earn money, demand dignity and lead meaningful lives (Borgios, 1989, p. 6/7).⁹

The literature on youth gangs is also relevant to the Eight, because it places particular emphasis on the ways in which those who are marginalised and socially disadvantaged use violence to obtain status and respect. In a South African study, Mokwena (1991) details how marginalised black youth in Soweto joined youth gangs, whose stated philosophy was to jackroll - that is, to gang rape girls and young women in the township. Another important study is that of Pinnock (1984) who details the formation of coloured youth gangs in Cape Town in the context of apartheid. Outside of South Africa, the work of Cohen (1980) and Hall and Jefferson (1983) has documented how youth gangs in Britain have acted as "alternative constructions of reality for their participants, providing new systems of belief, different moral and value codes and alternative criteria against which to measure success" (Breakwell, 1986, p. 141).

In chapter two, I made reference to Arendt's (1963) controversial study: Adolph Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil, in which she asserts that brutality is underpinned by everyday, banal aspirations, such as the desire for social respect. This thesis has been corroborated in many of the cases for which I have drawn up reports, and especially in the case of Almond Nofomela, a member of the Civil Co-operation Bureau (CCB). The CCB was the euphemistic name given to government death squads acting under the auspices of the South African Security Police. The purpose of these death squads was to eliminate anti-apartheid activists, in particular ANC leaders. At the time of my assessment of Nofomela he was on death row, and had recently been granted a temporary reprieve from execution as a result of his revelations that such squads existed.

Nofomela was first selected to join the security police on the basis of his high marks in police examinations. The power, material benefits and social prestige offered by this position were an obvious attraction for Nofomela:

In 1980 I was selected for the security police. I was very proud that I was selected and that I would get more money. I knew that the security police was a brand of the police and was involved in politics and detentions. This did not worry me because I was excited to be something new and was proud of my achievement to have a good job. (Nofomela, Interview)

Although Nofomela's social recognition was not widespread, as most of his fellow black South Africans loathed the security police, he did receive recognition from those people who were important to him - his family, his peer group, his work colleagues and his superior officers.

Nofomela's case illustrates that the groups that the offender regards as significant may grant him approbation for disparate reasons. Nofomela's family approved of his "work" largely because it brought them greater financial benefits, which in turn provided them with social status. On the other hand, Nofomela claimed that ordinary rank and file policemen respected him because his promotion to the security police demonstrated his physical prowess and dedication to the police force.

Later, when Nofomela was promoted again, to the CCB, he was particularly keen to win the approval of his commanding officer, Captain Dirk Coetzee. After Nofomela and two other policemen allegedly assassinated Griffiths Mxenge, a prominent, veteran anti-apartheid leader in Natal, he described his motivation as follows: "I wanted Coetzee to like me. I felt as if we were friends. I felt like he was a father (to me). After the killing, I felt special in Coetzee's eyes". Nofomela's family also profited from Mxenge's killing, as his R1000 reward afforded them further material advantage.

The Eight's case did correspond with those of Eichmann and Nofomela, in that their commitment to violence was facilitated and maintained through membership of a subculture or culture of violence, and in that they too may have shared a banal desire for social acclaim and respect and a commitment to violence as a means of satisfying this ambition. However, in many other respects, the Eight's situation was vastly different. They were not allied to a dominant political or economic group, and neither were they involved in sustained violence through structures established for the purpose of killing.

3.2.1 Publicizing Violence

In order for a particular attribute to command respect, it is often necessary for others to know about or witness this coveted quality. In societies or subcultures where wealth is venerated, for the rich to be hailed, others must be aware of their wealth. This awareness is normally achieved through reputation, or the exhibition of their financial prosperity. Similarly, in order to garner respect in subcultures of violence, it would appear that other members of the subculture must be cognisant of the individual's reputation for violence, or his participation in a violent event.

In the case of the Eight, others probably became aware of their violence through witnessing this violence, and through word of mouth. With respect to the former, the different phases of violence (see chapter six), offered different opportunities for the Eight's violence to be witnessed. When the public violence in the big hall was at its peak, this locale was an excellent venue for attestations of the Eight's participation in violence. However, when the violence in COSATU House became more private, the Eight are likely to have had fewer opportunities to obtain respect through violence, because none of them were members of the team of floggers that were involved in the ritual of sjambokking. They did, however, flaunt their militancy by calling for increased violence against the non-strikers. In this way, they were able to display their uncompromising attitude, their toughness and their commitment to group norms. On the 28th April, in the few hours before the non-strikers were transported to Prolecon, the Eight delivered their best performance: they assaulted the non-strikers a number of times, in front of a large band of strikers, and many of them assisted with the operations leading to the murders (see chapter eight).

While other strikers may have recounted details of the Eight's violence, these narratives were primarily delivered by the Eight themselves. These descriptions may have served a number of purposes. They informed those strikers who were not present of the Eight's violence, and perhaps also served as a reminder of the Eight's conduct for those strikers who were present. In addition, the narratives may have afforded the Eight the opportunity to re-experience, what was for them, an essentially positive experience. If the Eight did experience any ambivalence or cognitive dissonance (Festinger, 1957) regarding their violence in the early stages of the strike, their storytelling and conversations with other strikers may have helped to reduce their doubts. In these exchanges, the Eight may have been able to justify and reinforce the worthiness of their conduct, and to obtain reassurance and approval from their "comrades" or co-participants.¹⁰

I did not clarify this issue with the Eight, but frequently, as I have observed in my work with offenders, in contexts where violence is socially encouraged, the offenders boast about their violence and provide graphic descriptions of their victims' reactions.¹¹ By emphasising the victim's pain and pathetic demeanour, offenders are able to confirm their sense of power and their contempt for the victim. Bragging about violence often also provides perpetrators with greater recognition, or with recognition that they felt had not been obtained from their co-participants during the violence.

3.2.2 Acquiring Distinction Within a Subculture of Violence

One of the ways in which the Eight could move beyond recognition and achieve distinctive renown within their subculture of violence was to propose or engage in special acts of violence: violence which was different from the norm. If the Eight did have a quest for distinction, and I have no evidence to suggest that they did, it may have been motivated by their desire to be extolled for a number of attributes. In the interviews it seemed that the characteristic for which the Eight most desired to be lauded was the extent to which they were prepared to use violence to defend and advance the interests of the group (see section 4). Their willingness to go to extreme lengths was partly evident in their participation in the killings.

In the context of COSATU House, where the violence was endemic, and where there may have been a high level of desensitisation to it, the quest for distinction may have fuelled the momentum of escalating brutality. When the assaults of non-strikers became commonplace, the call for the killing of non-strikers was likely to have made a distinct impression (see chapter eight); and when the extraordinariness of such calls wore off, killing itself probably provided the stamp of distinction. However, it must be remembered that in this process, in order not to evoke censure, the new forms of violence that were proposed or enacted could not exceed the group's norms too dramatically (Marsh et al. 1978).

In mapping out this chapter, I indicated that it was divided into four broad sections. Thus far, two of these sections, the benefits acquired in the victim-offender dynamic and the benefits associated with group membership, have been covered. I will now focus my attention on the remaining two: the perception of violence as a socially constructive and political act, and as an affirmation of masculinity.

4. Violence as an Act of Social Benevolence and Political liberation

4.1 Defining Violence as Socially Constructive

A critical characteristic of the Eight's perception of their violent victimisation of non-strikers was that they saw it as a disciplinary measure. They believed that the non-strikers, once they had been punished, would refrain from engaging in further deleterious behaviour, and would instead conform to the more moral and appropriate conduct of striking. Molefe commented:

I knew without violence they would easily go back to work. The only way to stop them was to teach them a lesson. (Molefe, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

Rikhotso described the rationale for the assaults on non-strikers in COSATU House, a day before the murders, as follows:

They assaulted the workers, female and male. They were slapping with open hands. More than 60 people were slapping them. I also slapped them. I felt that I was giving them discipline and I felt good. (Rikhotso, Interview)

By defining themselves as teachers and disciplinarians, who were attempting to discipline the dissolute so as to ensure that they no longer subverted the group's interests, the Eight may have come to view their violence as socially constructive. Similarly, with respect to their participation in the murders, the Eight may have believed that they were helping to create a better future for their dependents, fellow strikers and future generations of black SATS workers, by defeating those who undermined the deprived and were evil and persecutory (Staub, 1990).¹²

While it is clear that the Eight perceived their violence as having short term social benefits, I did not explore whether the Eight, at the time of the strike, believed that their violence would have long term positive social effects. It would seem likely that they did, however, for they often spoke of the "future" and "what will happen tomorrow" in relation to their families and themselves, should they lose the strike. The opinion that their violence did have long term social benefits was certainly in existence three years after the strike, and was revealed in my interviews with Matshile, Mamphaga, Muangedzo and Molefe, who were on death row at the time. They asserted that their violence had been responsible for the improvement of work conditions at SATS. Muangedzo and Molefe commented:

There was change in SATS. Our violence and my struggle was successful. Many of the workers got their jobs back and the union has got better conditions and was recognised. I helped to do this. (Muangedzo, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

I just got an impression even if I or the strike didn't achieve anything; through our actions those in the future will have got something because of me. I never thought that the violence was a failure. (Molefe, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

Muangedzo and Molefe's assumption that their violence would have a life long, salutary effect, may have allowed them to believe that they would be guaranteed social approbation even after their execution. Thus violence was a potential pathway to immortality. Although such views must be seen within the context of Muangedzo and Molefe's attempt to make their life on death row more bearable (Vogelman, 1989),¹³ these views, as I have suggested, may also have been present during the strike.

4.2 Violence as an Act of Political Liberation and Self Sacrifice

The Eight appeared to include the dimension of political activist in their self concept, as they associated the strike, and later their violence, with broader resistance to apartheid. In view of the Eight's identification with the ANC's military struggle, and the sanction that the Eight accorded to violence, it is also possible - although they did not state this explicitly - that the Eight viewed themselves as informal cadres of "Umkhonto we Sizwe", the military wing of the African National Congress.

The political element that the Eight attributed to their striking appears to be linked to their belief that the hardship endured at SATS could not be differentiated from the broader political oppression that they endured under apartheid (see chapters four and five). Thus in part, the resistance directed at SATS may also have been directed at the political system within which SATS was embedded. The perception of the strike as a political act is also likely to have been fostered by the antagonistic intervention of the government and the police throughout the dispute. These interventions may have served to confirm the Eight's perceptions of the strong relationship between their employer, a government owned body, and the political persecution of the apartheid government.

The messages of support received from anti-apartheid organisations rooted in the black community, and the backing that black township activists gave to the strikers' call for a consumer boycott of SATS, are also likely to have contributed to the perceptions of the political nature of the strike. This support may have created or enhanced the Eight's conviction that a strike victory would also be a victory for all blacks who laboured under apartheid. Molefe, for example, believed that his participation in the strike was a political act that provided him with immense fortitude:

I felt more strong as a black man because I was part and parcel of the community that brought pressure on the government. (Molefe, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

The Eight lived within a context where many of those who demonstrated resistance to apartheid were either killed, judicially executed, assaulted, imprisoned or detained (see chapter one). Thus it is likely that the Eight were aware that there were high costs attached to resisting and challenging a repressive government, and that these costs increased proportionately as the resistance became more violent.

Mamphaga, in a description of political violence in the mid 1980s, alluded to the association between violent resistance, change and self sacrifice:

At times I had some hope because people were sacrificing their lives to fight for change. So the new generation could bear better fruits. (Mamphaga, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

In the interviews, the Eight defined their strike action as an act of self sacrifice, as they had to endure a loss of earnings, the risk of dismissal and the threat of legal retribution for their violence. Although these sacrifices may have contributed to the Eight's sense of moral virtue, they were still a source of aggravation for which the non-strikers were held responsible. The Eight's anger towards the non-strikers was further intensified because although the non-strikers did not make corresponding sacrifices, they would benefit from the sacrifices of the Eight and other strikers (see chapter five). The existential inequality of this situation partly accounts for Matshile's satisfaction while witnessing the murder of the non-strikers at Prolecon:

Even when I saw the scabs pain I still remained angry because they knew we were fighting for rights they would benefit from. They would get things at the expense of other workers. (Matshile, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

Through murder, the Eight ensured that it was the non-strikers who bore the ultimate sacrifice. In this sense, the murders may have enabled the Eight to overcome some of their anger that stemmed from the relative deprivation induced by comparisons with the non-strikers.

The Eight seemed to attach much importance to the concept of masculinity, and this attitude appeared to have an important influence on a number of areas of their lives, including their familial roles and their attitudes towards violence (see section 5.2.1 and chapter six). In previous chapters I emphasized that violence is a powerful medium through which masculinity can be affirmed and displayed, and this theme will be explored further in the section which follows.¹⁴

5. Violence and Masculinity

Wolfgang and Ferracuti (1967a) describe violence as "a demonstration of masculinity and toughness" (p. 154), and the literature on sexuality and gender, from almost all vantage points, argues strongly that masculinity and violence share numerous common features, including: control, power and decisiveness (Brownmiller 1975; Gebbard, Gagnon, Pomeroy & Christenson, 1965; Hoch, 1979; Morris, 1967; Renvoize, 1979; Russell, 1975; Vogelman, 1990a). These commonalities, together with patriarchal ideology and its organising structures (Glaser, 1986; Wolfgang & Ferracuti, 1967a), partly explain why the assaults in COSATU House and the Prolecon killings, like most incidents of violence in South Africa (Campbell, 1991; Beinart, 1991) and the rest of the world (Glaser, 1986), are committed by men.¹⁵

Nevertheless, as the strikers' violence reveals, despite the strong correlation between masculinity and violence, women are not always dissociated from violence.¹⁶ Netshitungulwane described an incident in the small hall on the day of the killings in which "women were beating the five and the coloured" (Interview). It must be emphasised however, that such incidents were the exception rather than the rule.

The Eight's deprivation, and their seemingly strong desire to behave according to the stereotypical male ideal appears to validate the contention of many social scientists that an ardent commitment to masculine norms and machismo behaviour develops where there is limited availability of other avenues through which men can obtain respect (Hoch, 1979; Toch, 1976). Hoch (1979) suggests that because masculinity is one of the few sources of power available to the working class and the poor, the working class has a greater machismo orientation than that of middle class society.^17/18

5.1 Threats to the Eight's Masculinity

Political oppression, poverty and work dissatisfaction are conditions which have the potential to be emasculating, as they undermine power and the capacity for achievement (Vogelman 1990a). In this way, they are also detrimental to self esteem. Campbell (1991) makes this observation with respect to the effects of South African politics on black men in the mid 1980s: "race and class oppression has diminished the status of adult men to an all time low" (p. 12).¹⁹

There are few in depth studies on the effects of deprivation and apartheid on the masculine identity of black men. This may be the consequence of the all- encompassing nature of the subject, or the tendency of South African social scientists to shy away from issues of sexuality and politics, for fear that these issues are ancillary to any analysis of South African society. I too did not explore this issue with the Eight, although I would like to think that my neglect was related to problems of time and the fact that in the trial, the issue was seen as peripheral. In the absence of clear data, I can only surmise that apartheid and its accompanying deprivations in the workplace, are likely, in some way, to have damaged the Eight's perception of themselves as men.

The Eight's experience at SATS was imbued with racism and managerial authoritarianism, and in this context they were faced with their own submissiveness. This experience was in sharp contrast to the image of forcefulness that may have been fundamental to their male identity, and thus their work life may have undermined their perceptions of their masculinity.²⁰ In order to preserve their jobs, the Eight had to curb their desire to be assertive and outspoken and so, to some extent, they were forced to participate in their own emasculation - an experience that may have further diminished their self esteem.²¹

Although striking may have bolstered the Eight's masculine identity because it demonstrated their capacity to assert some control over their lives and over their employer, this achievement was likely to have been increasingly eroded by recurrent defeats during the dispute - even taking into account the use of psychological defences. Their inability to win their demands, the aggressive strategies used by SATS, and their victimisation by the police all sapped their confidence (see chapter five). In addition, the inability to resolve the dispute rapidly jeopardised their role as breadwinners and consequently appeared to lower their self esteem (see section 1.1).

The expectations that may have been imposed on the Eight by their families and other groups to which they were affiliated as fathers, sons or husbands, and the degree to which the Eight felt compelled to fulfil the prescribed male ideal, would have probably influenced the extent of the negative effect of their loss of status as breadwinners (Kelvin & Jarrett, 1985). Unfortunately I did not explore these expectations with the Eight in any depth, but in my interviews with them it was evident that all of them felt guilty about their failure to provide financial support for their dependents.²² Earlier I cited Muangedzo, who spoke of "letting them down", meaning his parents, wife and children, but others, like Molefe, who had only his parents as dependents, were also distressed about not being able to sustain them financially:²³

During the strike there were no problems with a family because I lived alone. But my parents were worried about why I wasn't giving them money. I felt very bad about this. (Molefe, Reinterview, 26/2/1991)

5.2 Reconstructing Masculinity

An effective means of reconstructing male identity is to invoke particular traditions and roles in relation to certain groups of people, or within certain life spheres, where dominance and superiority is assured (Beinart, 1991).²⁴ The literature on domestic violence shows that women and children in the family home are the most common victims of attempts to compensate for the loss of manhood (Brownmiller, 1975; Renvoize, 1979; Simpson, 1993; Vogelman, 1990a; Vogelman & Eagle, 1991). In the context of a strike, the benevolent but downhearted striker can become the family despot (Simpson, 1993), and this violent despotism may be linked to a coping mechanism strongly associated with masculinity: alcohol abuse (Beinart 1991; Goode, 1978; Renvoize, 1979).

While the Eight did drink alcohol, there was no evidence of major abuse of the substance, and also no evidence to suggest they were involved in domestic abuse during the dispute. This may be because the Eight fell into the category of men who do not physically abuse,²⁵ and it may also be a consequence of the living circumstances of some of the Eight - four lived apart from their families, in hostels. However, although the Eight did not appear to assert their manhood through violence in the home, they did do something very similar. They seemingly bolstered their masculinity during the dispute by attacking the source of frustration that was the most feeble and had the least social value: the non-strikers.

5.2.1 Avoiding Accusations of Femininity

Violence offered the Eight the opportunity to retrieve and enhance their masculinity. It also allowed Mamphaga the opportunity to avoid further accusations of femininity, and the social disrespect with which femininity was associated. This benefit was clearly demonstrated during the incident involving Mamphaga at Prolecon, which I will refer to below. The Eight's apparent denial of those qualities stereotypically associated with femininity, namely passivity, gentleness and tenderness, may in itself have contributed to their violence, as there was little to counterbalance the more aggressive attributes associated with masculinity (Hoch, 1979).²⁶

Gilligan (1991) asserts that "the most dangerous men on earth are those who are afraid that they are wimps; wars have been started for less" (p. 22). This statement is somewhat confirmed by Mamphaga's response to the slur of femininity during the murders at Prolecon. Mamphaga describes the incident where he attempted to leave the site of the murders as follows:

Some words were uttered and said "Do not even try and do that, come back". As I went towards these people I noticed a person stabbing the coloured [non-striker] and somebody said to me: "Seeing that you wanted to run away do not make yourself a woman, pick a stone". I tried to pick a stone, that stone was too heavy for me. Though I was shaking I tried by all means to pick up the heavy stone. That is I wanted just to free myself to save my own life. Then someone came to my assistance and said "Now you are making yourself a woman or a lady", now he came to assist me in order to pick up that stone. … Well we threw the stone over those people. (Mamphaga, Court Record, p. 1611/2)

While Mamphaga's violence seemed to have protected him from the aspersions cast on his masculinity, participation in violence is not necessarily a guarantee that the offender's masculinity will not be denounced. Often, in the aftermath of violence, when the offender's violence is evaluated, it may not be deemed good enough. The latter was experienced by one of the strikers involved in killings during the AFCOL dispute:

I started stabbing this scab in his back and in his ears. But I did not do it properly. I was too scared. My stabbing did not go in deeply, only one or two holes. … When they returned, some was teasing me about why I have no power when I stab and that I couldn't stab properly. I felt very bad."

Mamphaga may have suffered similar ridicule had his violence at Prolecon not been positively evaluated. Thus to obtain and maintain gender credibility in macho orientated violent subcultures, it is often vital that any demand around violence be met, whether this demand is connected to participation alone, or the extent and form of the participation (Borgios, 1989).²⁷

5.2.2 Shaming and the Conquest of Other Men

All of the Eight's victims, whether at COSATU House or at Prolecon, were men. Frequently, in violence directed at men where the perpetrator's masculinity is a significant issue, the perpetrator attempts to destroy his victim's manhood and in so doing to confirm his own (Paske, 1982; Vogelman, 1990a). A poignant statement, made by convicted rapist and former world heavyweight boxing champion Mike Tyson, exemplifies the relevance of shaming another's manhood as a means of boosting one's own masculinity:

When I fight someone, I want to break his will. I want to take his manhood. I want to rip out his heart and show it to him. (Guardian Weekly, 23 February, 1991)

For many men, their ability to relish the shame inflicted during violence distinguishes them from women and the effeminate. This distinction was sometimes articulated by South African men, in order to justify why violent political struggle against apartheid needed to be a male preserve.²⁸ In an interview with Campbell (1991), an ANC youth activist in Natal articulated this philosophy:

Women are ashamed to hit someone or to kill them. When someone has been murdered women feel ashamed to see the body. Whereas men have no shame in these matters - and will just go to that place to look straight down at the corpse … . Girls don't feel ashamed of being attacked by Inkatha. And there are no girls who do the attacking, only men. And we go out as men to meet these men. We are men. How can we tolerate being attacked by men? Boys have got the desire not to be shamed in this way. (p. 14)

The degree to which this macho culture of shaming applied to the Eight is unclear, but my impression is that it was relevant. If the murders of the non-strikers had been carried out in a more clinical fashion, so that the Eight had to choose who should be part of the squad to go to Prolecon, I believe that the Eight would have selected male strikers, on the basis of the assumption that violence was men's work and something that only men could relish. This assertion is partly corroborated by the scorn directed at Mamphaga, who was said to be "making himself into a woman", because he no longer wanted to participate in the murders.

Conclusion: Violence as Narcissism

The Eight seemed to use violence to affirm their masculinity, and to gratify their quest for power, centrality, courage, esteem and social respect. From this perspective, their violence can be characterised as narcissistic. I have used the term narcissism as Fromm (1974) understands it: "A state of experience in which only the person himself, his body, his needs, his feelings, his thoughts, his property, everything and everybody pertaining to him are experienced as fully real, while everybody and everything that does not form part of the person" (p. 201), has less value.²⁹ For Fromm (1974), violence is a narcissistic act because self-gratification is the only issue of significance to the perpetrator.

The narcissism of the Eight's violence helped to make their violence simple and uncomplicated. They had only themselves and those individuals who were important to them to consider. In the interviews they reported that their victims' concerns, and the feelings of their victim's families, were of little relevance to them. The association between the narcissism of the Eight's violence and the dehumanisation of the non-strikers was thus not distinct.

The non-strikers' pleading, whether at COSATU House or at Prolecon did not prevent their victimisation.³⁰ And, just as there was no subtlety to the non-strikers' pleas for a reprieve, there was also no nuance to the Eight's violent response. The Eight's violence explicitly identified who was powerful and who was not, who was being shamed and who was shaming, and who was afraid and who inspired this fear. This communication was never more apparent than on the 28th April, the day that four non-strikers were severely assaulted and murdered.

Notes:

¹ Goffman's (1956) dramaturgical approach to social conduct is reflected in his widespread use of theatrical references such as performer, performance, audience, mask, script. According to Goffman, social behaviour is in many ways similar to dramatic performance in which the individual performer is trying to convey a certain image of him or herself to others.

² The values and norms of the individual's social group may change and this means that the standards according to which the individual evaluates himself may also change. Consequently, self esteem is not always dependant on achievement of the same goals or the acquisition of the same attributes.

³ Toch (1972) traces the propensity for violence to early interpersonal and familial relationships that lack consistency. As a result, positive self perceptions are difficult to develop. He also concludes that men who are prone to violence have two basic orientations: they feel vulnerable to manipulation and they believe that others are designed to serve their needs. The latter issues were not explored with the Eight and neither did they emerge extempore.

⁴ According to Gilligan (1991), the perpetrators of violence are often verbally inarticulate. Violence thus serves as an alternative mode of communicating anger.

⁵ Billig (1976), in his thesis on political discord, suggests that a mass scale reduction in a group's self esteem often facilitates social change because the oppressed engage in behaviour which aims to restore lost pride and reaffirm a positive social identity. One of the central ways of obtaining such affirmation is to conquer and destroy those who are believed to be responsible for the reduction in esteem.

⁶ For information on how resistance heightens the sense of conquest in sexual violence, see Vogelman (1990a).

⁷ In December 1990, I witnessed, on video, an unforgettable incident of homicide in Phola Park, a squatter camp on the East Rand. The murder was filmed by an international television crew, but never screened because it was too macabre. The crew had conducted an interview with an Inkatha hostel dweller, on his way to battle the residents of the squatter camp, who he claimed were Xhosas and ANC members. The man was well built, in his late thirties, and wore a red bandanna which suggested his political allegiance to Inkatha. His smiling, confident expression revealed his pride and his excitement. He stated that he expected the violence against the squatters to be exciting. A few minutes later, the crew filmed the same man hacking someone's neck with an axe. The expression on the man's face reflected his delight in butchering his victim.

⁸ The subject of violence in sport has also been the focus of historical work. In their study of football in medieval times, Ellis and Dunning (1970) argue that football was one means of arranging violent contests between people: "Football and other similar encounters in those times were not simply accidental brawls. They constituted an equilibrating type of leisure activity deeply woven into the warp and woof of society" (p. 113). And on a similar but another tack, Beinart (1991) cites a study conducted by Mayer and Mayer (1972) in which they question whether sport and fighting in pre-capitalist societies could be considered parallel activities, since in some of these societies sport and training for war were interrelated activities. Beinart however asserts that, it is incorrect, given current understandings of sport to draw such associations since war in these societies was frequently uncontained, unpredictable and intense.

⁹ There are tragic consequences of the crack dealers' attempts to achieve social status. Borgios (1989) asserts that their drug dealing and use of violence "exacerbates the trauma of their community" and "destroys hundreds of thousands of lives on the individual level" (p. 6-7).

¹⁰ For a discussion on how rapists reduce cognitive dissonance (Festinger, 1957; Halloran, 1970) about their sexual violence, see Vogelman (1990a).

¹¹ Oscar Gumede, the ANC activist referred to earlier, recounts a conversation a number of ANC youths had after they had murdered an Inkatha member in Natal:

The tragic toll of warfare struck me while walking home from the battlefield one day. Several youngsters of less than 15 years were walking behind me and they were discussing their role in the killing of an Inkatha warrior. They were bragging about where they stabbed him and how he cried for forgiveness as the knives plunged into him. (Weekly Mail, May 30-June 6 1991)

¹² A similar sentiment was expressed by Oscar Gumede, with reference to his participation in violence against Inkatha in Natal: "Thinking back, I feel honoured that I had the opportunity to be part of the defence of my home, my family and my township" (Weekly Mail, May 30-June 6 1991).

¹³ Matshile and Mamphaga, who were also on death row, also took comfort in such perceptions of their violence.

¹⁴ The youth are often the most intent on living up to the male ideal. According to Wolfgang and Ferracuti (1967a), "a review of the statistical and clinical literature from many societies indicates that the age-sex category of youthful males exhibits the highest association with violent crime and that physically aggressive behaviour for this group converges with notions about the masculine ideal" (p. 260).

¹⁵ According to the FBI's annual crime reports for the period between 1935 and 1984, seven out of eight people arrested for homicide in the United States were male (Glaser, 1986).

¹⁶ Campbell's (1981) studies of female violence suggest that women's violence, like that of men, is underpinned by a desire to reassert pride and power. Wolfgang and Ferracuti (1967a) posit that in homes where men are absent, female perpetrators have taken on responsibilities that are normally delegated to males. In assuming a masculine role, they also take on other roles associated with masculinity, for example, breadwinner and physical disciplinarian.

¹⁷ The anthropologist Oscar Lewis (1966a) contends that in poverty stricken subcultures where females dominate in child rearing, where men frequently assault women, and where great emphasis is placed on toughness, the likelihood is that adolescent boys will use violence to assert their independence from their mothers and other women.

¹⁸ This line of argument is also pursued by some feminist writers in the United States (Brownmiller, 1975; Russell, 1975) to explain why black men in ghetto areas use more violence against women to assert their masculinity than their white middle class counterparts. Brownmiller (1975) writes:

Corporate executive dining rooms and climbs up Mount Everest are not usually accessible to those (black men) who form the subculture of violence. Access to a female body - through force - is within their ken. (p. 194)

¹⁹ Campbell (1991) also refers to the emasculation of older men in the townships. She asserts that older men traditionally played a key role in shaping community opinion and decision making, but the growing role of the youth in these areas meant that they were no longer dominant in community decision making. She holds this partly responsible for some of the inter-generational tensions in black South African life.

²⁰ For a useful discussion on the links between employment and male identity, see Tolson (1977).

²¹ Working at SATS was not, however, more demeaning than unemployment. Mamphaga described his period of unemployment as follows:

I had no happiness in my two years without job (83-85). All I thought about was my desire to get a job. I couldn't buy what I wanted. As a man I had aspirations to achieve things. This did not happen. (Interview)

Although his working conditions were unsatisfactory, employment at SATS may have partly confirmed Mamphaga's manhood for a number of reasons. For example, he was able to fulfil his role as breadwinner. However, these positive features can, over time, be outweighed by the negative implications associated with adverse work conditions.

²² Campbell (1991), in her study of masculinity and violence, investigated the consequences of lack of earnings. One of the unemployed men that she interviewed commented: "I always feel like a father who is a failure, who is not commanding … respect in his family" (p. 8).

²³ These feelings of responsibility persisted even after they were imprisoned. During an interview on death row Matshile commented:

I got a girlfriend. I have a child. I am now responsible. I must make sure she's in good health, look after the child, make a good house for her. I can never throw my blood away - if I did God will punish me. (Interview)

²⁴ Despite the emasculating effects of political oppression, attempts at maintaining conceptions of the male ideal are not necessarily diminished. Beinart (1991), in the context of colonialism's effect on the masculinity of the colonised, reminds us of the importance of analysing the efforts of oppressed men to cope with their emasculation and reconstruct their maleness:

how could societies where men were generally expected to be militarily capable be subjected to or subject themselves, to the new colonial disciplines. Even where there was no direct continuity in the socialisation of men, we need to ask what traditions, myths, social memories were available to reconstruct male identity and which were invoked in the new contexts. (p. 15)

²⁵ Molefe, who occasionally abused women with whom he had sexual relations, is only included in this category because he had no family of his own. It must be noted however, that during the strike Molefe was not involved with any woman and never engaged in any battery.

²⁶ For Hoch (1979), the more men withdraw into their own company, the more the "feminine side" must be denied, and the potential for homosexuality exorcised. He argues that the denial of the former, accounts for the high levels of violence in wholly male contexts and institutions.

²⁷ In some violent subcultures the demand to engage in violence is continual, with the result that violence is used habitually. Borgios (1989) asserts that within the violent subculture of the crack dealers in Spanish Harlem, to achieve success, dealers have to regularly enact violence in order to maintain credibility, prevent being ripped off by others and ensure that they do not suffer the indignity of being labelled "soft" or "pussy".

²⁸ Enloe (1983) asserts that combat is central to the construction of manhood in Western society:

The myth of combat dies hard. In today's highly technological societies, there is still the widespread presumption that a man is unproven in his manhood until he has engaged in collective, violent, physical struggle against someone categorised as "the enemy". (p. 13).

²⁹ According to Freud (1914), when an individual feels continually threatened, narcissistic needs come to the fore. The individual protects himself by caring only about himself and those important to him. Freud developed the concept of narcissism as part of his libido theory, in an attempt to understand schizophrenia. In his explanation of why the schizophrenic does not form relationships with others, Freud posited that the schizophrenic withdraws his libido from the external world and directs it to his own ego; consequently giving rise to narcissism.

Freud asserts that narcissism exists in the first stage of life, when the child does not have any relationship with the outside world. As the child grows, so these relationships develop, but under special circumstances such as stress and trauma, the libido is withdrawn from objects and directed back to the ego. Freud (1914) also posited that even outside of these circumstances, individuals remained somewhat narcissistic throughout their lives.

³⁰ The majority of incidents of premeditated violence with which I have dealt have followed a similar pattern. In these cases which have spanned rape, murder, and torture, the victims' begging hardly ever proved to be an effective strategy of inhibiting violence.

Chapter 8