cut off from the outside world, they organised a “Religious Tolerance Conference” at the urg- ing of the SPLA. Its first resolution stated: “All should aim at planting the seeds of love and cooperation, and resolve issues that create hatred and disharmony.” Yet implementation of the little the CPA
offered the Nuba was allowed to languish. Khartoum built up its military might in the Nuba Mountains region even as the SPLA withdrew most of its Nuba forces to South Sudan, as required by the CPA. Al-Hilu told Mbeki that Khartoum had massed 60,000 troops, 100 tanks and 460 Land Cruisers with machine guns in the region by the out- break of hostilities – more than at the height of the jihad. Militias were reorganised and re-armed. In an appeal to the international community to “stop the bloodshed of the innocent people”, a prominent Nuba churchman, Andudu Adam Elnail, the Anglican Bishop of Kadugli, the state capital of South Kordofan, blamed the conflict on the “forging” of state elections in May by Bashir’s National Congress Party (NCP). The NCP won a minority of votes in the state but a majority of seats in the state parliament, giving the party control of the “popular consultation” process, which the Nuba saw as their last hope of achieving their war aims.
Bishop Andudu said regular and irregular troops flooded into Kadugli “killing innocent civilians … The churches and pastors were directly targeted … The Church of Christ in Kadugli was burned down,” said the bishop. Al-Hilu said those who voted for the SPLA in the May elections were also targeted, “asked for their party cards, then killed”. UNMIS has so far been unable to corroborate reports that government forces have been firing phospho- rus shells in Kadugli. The use of phosphorus is prohibited in places where civilians could be harmed. Apart from the caves in which they have historically sought refuge from enemies, UNMIS is the only protection for the Nuba people. But the Sudanese Government is insisting that UNMIS leave South Kordofan by 9 July. Senior UNMIS officials say privately that that mission is already “deaf and blind” as a result of the restrictions placed upon it.
T he UN peacekeepers were protected
by government forces as they facil- itated the evacuation of international relief workers in the first days of
fighting, but since then have themselves been subjected to increasing belligerence. In one of the most shocking incidents, an UNMIS patrol was detained by SAF on 17 June and subjected to a mock firing squad in army headquarters. A UN report seen by The Tablet said the peacekeepers “were lined up and a SAF officer cocked his AK-47 and pointed it at them … They were told that UNMIS must ‘leave South Kordofan, or we will kill you if you come back here’”.
■Julie Flint is a writer and broadcaster who has reported on the Nuba struggle for 20 years.
DAVID BLAIR
‘After 17 years of ANC rule, South Africa’s economy remains the preserve of an elite’
On the southern fringe of Johannesburg, great heaps of yellow earth lie beside highways and townships. These “mine dumps” have been part of the landscape of South Africa’s commercial capital since gold was discovered here in 1886. The mining companies that were founded to exploit this natural wealth have survived all the tumultuous events of South African history, outlasting the war between Boer and Briton for control of the country, the rise and fall of apartheid and the advent of majority rule. Today, Anglo American is one of the world’s great mining giants, having weathered the tempests of South African history since 1917. But a storm is now gathering that will test even this industry’s instinct for survival. Two years before the African National Congress (ANC) won power in 1994, the party dropped its commitment to nationalise the mines. This pledge dated back to the ANC’s “FreedomCharter” of 1955 – and the U-turn went against the grain of party opinion. Yet Nelson Mandela and Thabo Mbeki, then the ANC’s commanding duo, threw the nationalisation pledge overboard anyway. They looked elsewhere in Africa and saw that wherever mines had been seized, economic calamity had followed. Reluctantly, they also recognised that it would jeopardise the foreign investment that South Africa’s economy depends upon. But a young politician with an immense and growing following is now campaigning to restore this pledge. Julius Malema, the 30-year- old leader of the ANC’s Youth League, is almost unknown outside South Africa. Within its borders, he has become something of a national obsession, dominating the front pages day after day. Aside from President Jacob Zuma, he is arguably the most powerful politician in the country. And last week, he won the greatest victory of his short career. After being re-elected unopposed as the Youth League’s leader, Mr Malema persuaded this arm of the ruling party to adopt nationalisation as its official policy. The Youth League is, of course, distinct from the ANC and the ruling party’s secretary-
general was quick to offer assurances that government policy had not changed. But Mr Malema now has a vital opportunity. Next year, the ANC will hold two conferences: the first to decide its manifesto, the second to choose its leaders for the next general election in 2014. Mr Malema has already declared that he will try to have nationalisation made the ANC’s official policy. If he fails, South African commentators have no doubt that he possesses a nuclear option: Mr Malema could use his muscle to topple Mr Zuma and install a pliant president. So this highly capable leader has a clear – and hugely popular – aim along with huge bargaining power. If Mr Zuma wants to keep his job, he may have to give Mr Malema what he wants. To say that seizing the mines
would amount to economic suicide is both true and trite. The question is why the campaign for nationalisation, which Mr Mandela buried almost two decades ago, has suddenly acquired such momentum. The answer lies in the fact that after 17 years of ANC rule, South Africa’s economy remains the preserve of an elite minority. They are not all white, for a new generation of black capitalists has emerged, as has a large black middle class. But only a handful of blacks have acquired a real stake in the economy, often by using their influence within the ruling party to secure government contracts. Meanwhile, most of the ANC’s supporters have been left in the cold. This has created a ready- made constituency for Mr Malema. Young urban blacks, with little hope of stable employment, are his most ardent followers. Their numbers grow every year, leading Mr Malema to believe that the tide of history is running in his favour.
Anglo American and the other mining companies are waking up to the threat. If they still have their famed survival instinct, they must realise that now is the time for some truly enlightened decisions. A wise chief executive would hand out shares to the company’s workers, thus giving them something to lose if Mr Malema were to get his way. A sensible company would ally with the trade unions, exploiting the fact that they loathe the ANC Youth League. In short, the mining industry will only endure by choosing radical reform, without waiting to be forced. The question hangs in the balance: are these companies still the great survivors of Africa?
■David Blair writes for the Financial Times and is on assignment in Johannesburg.
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