Permits are needed for everything. The law states that no-one may lawfully reside in Soweto or other locations without being in possession of several appropriate permits. To make sure that this law is complied with, the search for "illegal" natives is carried out by the "blackjacks", the notorious municipal police. This police outfit is nicknamed "blackjacks" because its members are dressed in black from head to toe. At night their complexion blends with that of the uniform. Walking in the streets at dusk, you can only figure them out by the click-crunch sound of their heavy black boots. The jackets of their uniforms are double-breasted, fastened with shiny copper-coloured buttons. On their heads are black caps, the brims cover the forehead leaving room for the ferocious looking eyes, as if they were the eyes of bloodthirsty hunting hounds. The hunt for the "illegal" natives is done at any time of the day, but the "blackjacks" seem to enjoy the night chase and that of the snug hours of two to five a.m.
During the night raids, the "Blackjacks" would bang on the door with "knobkerries", flashing torches on the windows. They would yell "open the door, it's the police". The whole neighbourhood was awoken. A delay in opening meant the maddening jackboot kicks on the door, which invariably was followed by the blackjack stampede into the house as the door fell on the floor (there were always disputes between the tenants and the municipality on who was responsible for the door repair bills). In the rush, they would flash torches on the inmates' faces as they snatched the blankets, counting the number of heads under the blankets. Men were usually caught in their underpants, women in their birthday suits would scramble for a portion of blanket or sheet to keep their privacy covered, as the blackjackets pulled away the blankets for a count.
In the prevailing darkness, one of the inmates will stumble around the room in search of a matchbox to light a candle and find the "dompasses" to prove to the policemen that they are registered workers. But proof of being a registered worker is not sufficient for the municipal police whose concern is the "house permit" only...
We children were terrified by these raids. We clung on to the slippery torsos of our parents screaming our lungs out with terror.
As if the jackboot terror of the blackjacks is not enough on the lives of Sowetonians, as soon as they set foot on the streets, they are pounced upon by units of the South African Police, whose prime interest is the "dompass" and the search for "dangerous weapons". By law, an African is not allowed to carry a stick, even a walking stick. The Sowetonians call the SAP's "amakgathas" meaning "the arseholes."
When pouncing on his victim the policeman will say "Hy'ta, pass jong" - meaning "Hey, pass, man". Without a murmur the African quickly produces the "stinker". Failure to produce immediately on demand means instant arrest with a charge of "obstructing the police while performing his duty". Having taken out the pass from your pocket, the policeman snatches it from your hand. He takes his time paging through it. First he looks at the polaroid photograph and then looks at your face menacingly to make certain it is your profile on the pass, he then reads the domicile stamp, the labour registration stamp and the month-end signature of your employer. The domicile stamp certifies that you are allowed by law to reside in the particular location, the labour registration stamp complements the first in that you are allowed to reside in the urban area whilst employed, and the month-end signature of your employer in fact testifies that you are in regular employment. Failure to produce the pass or to meet any of the above requirements means on-the-spot arrest. Then follows the hands-up order. The policeman conducts a quick body frisk, and empties your pockets in search of "dangerous weapons".
This " hunt " for "illegal or vagrant Bantus" can be repeated several times on one person in one trip from Soweto to work in the city. A worker can have it done in his street, the next street, at the bus terminus or railway station, inside the bus or train, at the point of arrival and at any street leading to the place of work.
In the streets the workers arrested on pass offences are handcuffed in two's and marched in silence in a column from street to street until the officers on duty finish their shift. Then all the apprehended workers are taken to a police station. It can take three or more days before victims are processed and appear in court. The relatives are not notified of the arrest. It has become an accepted practice that should a person over 16 years of age be missing from home, the search is first for his "dompass" lest he left it in the house. If by luck a person gets arrested and is seen by someone else who knows him and his family, then the family gets to hear and knows where to go and look. It is illegal to ask a policeman or the person arrested the reason for an arrest. "Inquisitive" persons get arrested and charged with obstructing the police in the execution of their duty.
Reprinted with permission from A Window on Soweto, Joyce Sikakane, International Defence and Aid Fund for Southern Africa, 104 Newgate Street, London EC1A 7AP,
United Kingdom.
(C) Copyright 1977, International Defence and Aid Fund for Southern Africa.
PASS CAMPAIGN
The most prolonged struggle by women of South Africa centred around their refusal to accept passes. Until the 1950's passes had to be carried only by African men.
The operation of the pass laws is an essential part of the control of the migratory labour and the flow of workers to the towns. In certain periods, because of the relative insignificance of female wage labour, African women were not subject to the same controls. The pass laws and numerous other laws and regulations controlling residence, movement and conditions of work, have been extended to women only during the past two decades, with the intention of using them as a means to force all women and children not required as domestic servants in the towns to live in the reserves.
The women's struggle against passes and permits began as long ago as 1913 in the Orange Free State. Women who lived in the urban locations were forced to buy a new permit each month that cost them a shilling (at a time when 2 a month was an excellent wage). When petitions and deputations had failed, the women "threw off their shawls and took the law into their own hands". In Bloemfontein 600 women marched to the municipal offices and demanded to see the Mayor. When they were told he was out, they deposited a bag containing their passes at the feet of the Deputy-Mayor and told him they would buy no more .
Similar demonstrations spread to other towns and many women were arrested and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment. If they were given the option of a fine, they all refused to pay, and at small country jails officials were confronted with the problem of a mass of women prisoners for whom they were not equipped.
Singing hymns, 800 women marched from the location to the Town Hall in the Free State town of Winburg, and told the authorities they were tired of making appeals that bore no fruit, and thus they had resolved to carry no more passes. In a tiny Free State dorp this mass demonstration of women was a stupendous event and made a striking impression. But the authorities were adamant and continued to arrest women, who had to be carted from one small town to another to find sufficient jail accommodation.
The struggle continued for years, and eventually these dauntless women were successful. Passes for women were withdrawn.
In 1955 the then Minister of Native Affairs stated "African women will be issued with passes as from January 1956". In fact the law had been amended in 1950 to enable the Government to introduce passes for women.
Women had reason to fear the carrying of passes, having been forced to witness all their lives the effect of the pass laws on African men: the night raids, stopping in streets by police vans, searches, jobs lost through arrests, disappearance of men shanghaied to farms, and the prosecutions (nearly 700,000 in 1968). It was not even known at the time the degree to which the pass laws would be used to separate family groups and break up homes. But women did know the devastating effect the laws could have on some aspects of their lives. For the men, arrest for pass offences could mean loss of job; but for women? They might or might not have a job to lose, but most of them had helpless dependents, often very young babies, who could not be left totally unattended when the mother was whisked off the streets and into jail.
The first big protest against the pass laws took place in October 1955 with 2,000 women, mostly Africans, but including women of all the other races;converging in Pretoria, seat of the administration of the Government. The demonstration had been a response to one organised many months before by the Black Sash, white women protesting against pass laws. The black women said, "The white women did not invite us to their demonstration, but we will invite all women, no matter what race or colour".
The women's anti-pass movement began to grow. In Durban and Cape Town women marched in their thousands through the streets. The men were amazed at their independence and militancy, but Lilian Ngoyi, African women's leader, explained: "Men are born into the system and it is as if It has become a life tradition that they carry passes. We as women have seen the treatment our men have - when they leave home in the morning you are not sure if they will come back. If the husband is to be arrested, and the mother, what about the child?"
The government began the issue of passes by selecting sections of the women least likely or able to protest: farmers brought lorry-loads of women workers from their farms to get their passes and the women knew what would happen if they refused. Even these country women would sometimes subsequently burn their passes and protests grew all over the country, culminating in a mass demonstration in Pretoria, one year after the first one, on 9 August 1956 — the day that has since been designated "Women's Day" in South Africa.
A year before it had been 2,000 women. Now 20,000 women assembled, overcoming tremendous difficulties imposed both by their personal positions and by the authorities, to join the assembly. Despite the most ingenious forms of intimidation the women saved and worked together to raise money to hire trains, buses, cars, to bring them thousands of miles to the capital. All processions in Pretoria were banned that day, so the women walked to Union Buildings to see the Prime Minister in groups of never more than three. All Pretoria was filled with women. This was four years before the national liberation organisations were banned, and thousands of women wore the green and black Congress blouses; Indian women dressed in brilliant saris; Xhosa women in their ochre robes with elaborate headscarves.
Union Buildings is designed in classic style, with pillared wings on either side of an amphitheatre on a hillside, with trees and gardens in steps down the hillside and a vista to the town far down below across a long avenue of lawn. The women slowly converged up this avenue and filled the amphitheatre. Their leaders went into Union Buildings and left hundreds of thousands of signatures on petition forms at the office of the Prime Minister who, of course, was not available to see them. Afterwards they stood in complete silence in the winter sun - even the babies on their backs did not cry — for thirty minutes, then burst into magnificent harmony to sing the anthems. Nkosi sikile'i Afrika and Morena Boloka. The singing, as they dispersed, echoed over the city, and the women began a new freedom song with its refrain "Wathinf a bafazi, way ithint' imbolodo uzo kufa" — Now you have touched the women you have struck a rock, you have dislodged a boulder, you will be crushed.
The protests continued, but so did the issue of passes. The authorities made it inevitable; old women who went to collect their tiny pensions were told "No pass book - no pension". Mothers could not obtain the registration of the birth of a child unless they had their passbook. Teachers and nurses were dismissed if they refused to take passes. Gradually more and more women were forced to accept them...
Reprinted with permission from For Their Triumphs and For Their Tears, Hilda Bernstein, International Defence and Aid Fund for Southern Africa, 104 Newgate Street, London ECIA 7AP, United Kingdom.
© Copyright 1975, International Defence and Aid Fund for Southern Africa