RAZINA MUNSHI: The police seem to like their lockdown power a little too much
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The lockdown is as good as over. But does this mean South Africans can relax in the embrace of a return to civil liberties?
Last week’s tragic killing of 16 year-old Nathaniel Julies in the Gauteng suburb of Eldorado Park doesn’t inspire confidence.
Of course, excessive policing did not just arrive in SA when government declared a state of disaster in March 2020. In this country, police killings are its own crisis altogether. Since 2012, the police have killed one person every day, on average.
The Marikana massacre, when police fired at striking mineworkers killing 34 of them, is the deadliest example of the decline in the state of public order policing in democratic SA.
However, the Covid-19 lockdown has given the police an opportunity to push the boundaries of the legality – and sometimes the acceptability – of their actions.
Heavy-handed policing is one of the telltale signs of a state that is testing how far it can go to assert its control over the people it is supposed to serve. In the midst of a “once in a century” event, those invisible barriers were pushed all over the world.
This is not to deny that in circumstances such as the Covid-19 pandemic, states can legitimately use extraordinary powers for good. But in most countries, they have gone much further.
The battle-talk drawn upon by leaders galvanised in a “war on Covid” has compounded that. It is used to invoke a sense of duty, but also to justify greater state control.
Under regulations enforced when level 5 of the lockdown began on March 26, citizens were slapped with a curfew and prohibited from leaving their homes for anything other than essential trips.
Drastic containment measures came with an initial deployment of nearly 3,000 soldiers who were overwhelmingly sent to police poor communities.
The death of Collins Khosa – after members of the defense force entered his home and violently assaulted him – has become a symbol of Covid police brutality. But there are many other incidents of brutality at the hands of the police that have gone uninvestigated.
This time police watchdog Ipid acted surprisingly quickly, arresting two policemen two days after Julies was killed. Yesterday, it charged them with his murder and possession of prohibited ammunition.
But this was not before Eldorado Park residents erupted in protest. Their anger is deep. Police disrespect – and even outright hostility ...
Last week’s tragic killing of 16 year-old Nathaniel Julies in the Gauteng suburb of Eldorado Park doesn’t inspire confidence.
Of course, excessive policing did not just arrive in SA when government declared a state of disaster in March 2020. In this country, police killings are its own crisis altogether. Since 2012, the police have killed one person every day, on average.
The Marikana massacre, when police fired at striking mineworkers killing 34 of them, is the deadliest example of the decline in the state of public order policing in democratic SA.
However, the Covid-19 lockdown has given the police an opportunity to push the boundaries of the legality – and sometimes the acceptability – of their actions.
Heavy-handed policing is one of the telltale signs of a state that is testing how far it can go to assert its control over the people it is supposed to serve. In the midst of a “once in a century” event, those invisible barriers were pushed all over the world.
This is not to deny that in circumstances such as the Covid-19 pandemic, states can legitimately use extraordinary powers for good. But in most countries, they have gone much further.
The battle-talk drawn upon by leaders galvanised in a “war on Covid” has compounded that. It is used to invoke a sense of duty, but also to justify greater state control.
Under regulations enforced when level 5 of the lockdown began on March 26, citizens were slapped with a curfew and prohibited from leaving their homes for anything other than essential trips.
Drastic containment measures came with an initial deployment of nearly 3,000 soldiers who were overwhelmingly sent to police poor communities.
The death of Collins Khosa – after members of the defense force entered his home and violently assaulted him – has become a symbol of Covid police brutality. But there are many other incidents of brutality at the hands of the police that have gone uninvestigated.
This time police watchdog Ipid acted surprisingly quickly, arresting two policemen two days after Julies was killed. Yesterday, it charged them with his murder and possession of prohibited ammunition.
But this was not before Eldorado Park residents erupted in protest. Their anger is deep. Police disrespect – and even outright hostility ...