South Africa Hard Words, Harsh Actions

By Jill Smolowe

South African politicians may still be unschooled in diplomacy, but they have made great strides on the public relations front. A year ago, government leaders advertised that State President P.W. Botha would unveil a package of far-reaching reforms at a provincial National Party congress in Durban. When Botha's "manifesto for the future" proved to be largely a manifesto for more of the same, an international outcry ensued. Last week, as Botha returned to Durban to address a full party congress, officials tried a different tack, this one designed to thwart untoward expectations. One administrator warned foreign correspondents, "This speech is not for you. This is a speech for South Africans." Given the advance billing, it was hard to be disappointed.

Botha gave his people exactly what they wanted. For two hours he tore down critics and shored up Afrikaner morale. Defiantly, he urged his white followers to "shed the spirit of defeatism and doubt" in the face of economic sanctions. Defensively, he railed against an "international conspiracy" that aimed to undermine South Africa's sovereignty. Cunningly, he insisted that South Africa had "outgrown apartheid" and simultaneously vowed to submit any agreements negotiated with blacks to a white referendum.

Botha's performance left most U.S. Senators cold. Three days later, by a vote of 84 to 14, the Senate adopted a strong package of economic sanctions that bans imports of South African textiles, steel, uranium, coal and agricultural products. It also bars new U.S. investment in South Africa, bans new bank loans and ends landing rights for South African Airways. The Senate sanctions stopped short of the bill voted last June by the House, which called for a comprehensive trade embargo and total U.S. disinvestment. But it was a serious setback for the Reagan Administration's policy of avoiding major sanctions in favor of "constructive engagement." Once the two houses reconcile their differences, Reagan will either have to bow to congressional pressure or be forced to use his veto.

Last week, however, the White House had to confront another sticky matter. At a press conference a few hours after the Durban speech, Reagan embraced what he termed Botha's call for a meeting between South African and Western leaders to help end apartheid. Reagan spoke in Chicago, where he was campaigning for Republican candidates, and he had not yet reviewed Botha's speech. When it became plain that Botha had merely offered to meet with Western leaders to discuss regional issues, the Administration admitted that "there has been no such proposal" to dismantle apartheid.

In Durban, meanwhile, a three-judge Supreme Court panel struck a body blow at the country's ten-week-old state of emergency. On Monday it ruled that two key provisions of the emergency regulations concerning arrests and detentions were invalid. The court held that Botha had overstepped his bounds by empowering security forces to detain without charge anyone considered to be a threat to public order. The suit had been brought on behalf of Solomon Tsenoli, a black detainee who was arrested June 12. After Tsenoli was released, there was a rush of activity in all four provinces as lawyers began to prepare similar challenges. Ultimately, it was believed, the ruling might affect all of the emergency detainees, who may number as many as 12,000.

Within hours the government lodged a notice of appeal against the Natal verdict. The appellate court in Bloemfontein is expected to hold a hearing sometime this week. Meanwhile, another Natal court panel contradicted its brethren's ruling by handing down a decision that upheld the detention regulations. By week's end most lawyers had been told that their applications for the release of detainees would not be considered until the appellate court ruled. In all, only seven detainees were released last week. Of those, only Tsenoli remains free, the rest having been immediately rearrested under the Criminal Procedures Act, one of several security laws that give police broad powers to detain suspects.

Other challenges to the emergency regulations are under way. The Congress of South African Trade Unions plans to appeal several arrests of members on the ground that the security police are trying "to hamstring, if not destroy" the umbrella group and its affiliates. Companies representing most of South Africa's English-language newspapers have begun an action to have the emergency regulations relating to press restrictions set aside. Their attorney argued last week that the media curbs were so "gratuitously oppressive" that they could never have been contemplated by Parliament.

Botha was also dealt a slap by one of South Africa's black homelands. The government of KwaNdebele, an impoverished collection of farms in the northeastern Transvaal, voted last week to reject the government's plans to grant it independence in December. The decision was made just hours before the Durban speech but seemed to make no dent in Botha's determination to pursue his homeland policy. "I think the time has come for the world to accept the fact of the independence of these countries," he said, referring to the four homelands that have already embraced independence. Then he pushed the concept further to include the large black townships, such as Soweto and Sharpeville, near Johannesburg. Ignoring the obvious economic distress of such communities, Botha suggested, "If a state such as Luxembourg can be independent, why can't black urban communities close to our metropolitan areas receive full autonomy as city-states?"

Those who have been listening to South African blacks were unimpressed by Botha's announcement in Durban that he intends to push ahead with the creation of a National Council that would include black representatives. Botha first floated the idea last January, when he called for a multiracial advisory council to propose constitutional reforms. Now he has hinted that a referendum on council decisions could be taken not only among whites but among blacks as well. Party leaders suggested that blacks could vote nationwide on their council representatives. But the plan seems farfetched: even the most moderate blacks have refused to participate in any such body until Black Leader Nelson Mandela is released from prison.

Meanwhile, the Marxist government of Angola announced that it had repelled two attacks by South African forces in the southeastern town of Cuito Cuanavale. The Angolan Defense Ministry claimed that its troops had killed 95 South Africans. At the same time, UNITA, the U.S.-backed guerrilla movement that seeks to topple the Angolan regime, claimed responsibility for the attacks. The Reagan Administration laid the aggression to South Africa. "We do not condone any South African raid into Angola," said a State Department spokesman. In Pretoria, South African officials denied that any of their troops were involved but did not respond to the U.S. scolding. They preferred to let the spotlight remain on Durban, where Botha's performance, after all, was just what many white South Africans had wanted to hear.

With reporting by Peter Hawthorne/Johannesburg and Bruce W. Nelan/Durban