Latest news with #racialsegregation
The Independent
19-06-2025
- Politics
- The Independent
Cradock Four: South Africa opens new inquiry into apartheid-era torture and killings
When Nombuyiselo Mhlauli was given her husband's body back for burial, he had more than 25 stab wounds in his chest and seven in his back, with a gash across his throat. His right hand was missing. Sicelo Mhlauli was one of four Black men abducted, tortured and killed 40 years ago this month by apartheid-era security forces in South Africa. No one has been held accountable for their deaths. But a new judge-led inquiry into the killings of the anti-apartheid activists who became known as the Cradock Four — and who became a rallying cry for those denied justice — opened this month. It is part of a renewed push for the truth by relatives of some of the thousands of people killed by police and others during the years of white minority rule and enforced racial segregation. Mhlauli described the state of her husband's body during testimony she gave at the start of the inquiry in the city of Gqeberha, near where the Cradock Four were abducted in June 1985. Relatives of some of the three other men also testified. Thumani Calata never got to know her father, Fort Calata, who had been a teacher. She was born two weeks after the funerals of the Cradock Four, which drew huge crowds and galvanized resistance to apartheid. 'I don't know how it feels, and I will never know how it feels, to be hugged by my dad,' Thumani Calata, now 39, told the inquiry as she wept. Two previous inquiries were held during apartheid. A two-year inquest that started in 1987 found the men were killed by unknown people. Another in 1993 said they were killed by unnamed policemen. Relatives of the Cradock Four likely will never see justice. The six former police officers directly implicated in the abductions and killings have died, the last one in 2023. None was prosecuted despite the post-apartheid Truth and Reconciliation Commission identifying them and denying them amnesty in the late 1990s. That commission, set up by then-President Nelson Mandela, attempted to confront the atrocities of apartheid in the years after the system officially ended in 1994. While some killers were granted amnesty, more than 5,000 applications were refused and recommended for criminal investigation. Hardly any made it to court. Oscar van Heerden, a political analyst at the University of Johannesburg, said the bitter emotion of relatives at the Cradock Four inquiry showed wounds have not healed. 'Where it was felt that truth was not spoken and there wasn't sufficient evidence to warrant forgiveness, those were cases that were supposed to be formally charged, prosecuted and justice should have prevailed," van Heerden said. "None of that happened.' The failure by post-apartheid governments for 25 years to pursue cases is now being scrutinized. Frustrated, the families of the Cradock Four finally forced authorities to rule last year that there would be a new inquiry into the killings. They also joined with a group of relatives of other apartheid-era victims to take the South African government to court this year over the failure to investigate so many crimes. As part of the settlement in that case, South African President Cyril Ramaphosa ordered a national inquiry led by a retired judge into why apartheid-era killers were not brought to justice. The inquiry, which has not opened yet, threatens to expose further uncomfortable moments for South Africa. While the majority of victims of political violence during apartheid were Black and other people of color, some were white, and families have come together across racial lines. A group of survivors and relatives from the 1993 Highgate Hotel massacre, where unknown men opened fire in a bar full of white customers, joined with the Cradock Four families and others in the case against the government. They allege that post-apartheid authorities deliberately blocked investigations. Other inquests have been reopened, including one into the 1967 death of Albert Luthuli, who was president of the banned anti-apartheid African National Congress movement when he was hit by a train. Luthuli's death has been viewed with suspicion for more than 50 years. At the Cradock Four inquiry, which is expected to resume in October for more testimony, Howard Varney, a lawyer for the families, said this is their last chance to know the truth. The new inquiry has attempted to retrace the killings, from the moment of the men's abduction at a nighttime police roadblock to the time their bodies were discovered, burned and with signs of torture. The families also want a former military commander and ex-police officers who may have knowledge of the killings to testify. Lukhanyo Calata, the son of Fort Calata, said he accepted it was unlikely anyone would ever be prosecuted over the death of his father and his friends Mhlauli, Matthew Goniwe and Sparrow Mkonto. But he said he wants official records to finally show who killed them. ' Justice now can really only come in the form of truth,' Lukhanyo Calata told The Associated Press. 'They may not have been prosecuted, they may not have been convicted, but according to court records, this is the truth around the murders of the Cradock Four.'
Al Arabiya
19-06-2025
- Politics
- Al Arabiya
South Africa Opens a New Inquiry Into Apartheid-Era Killings Known as Cradock Four
When Nombuyiselo Mhlauli was given her husband's body back for burial, he had more than 25 stab wounds in his chest and seven in his back, with a gash across his throat. His right hand was missing. Sicelo Mhlauli was one of four Black men abducted, tortured, and killed 40 years ago this month by apartheid-era security forces in South Africa. No one has been held accountable for their deaths. But a new judge-led inquiry into the killings of the anti-apartheid activists who became known as the Cradock Four – and who became a rallying cry for those denied justice – opened this month. It is part of a renewed push for the truth by relatives of some of the thousands of people killed by police and others during the years of white minority rule and enforced racial segregation. Mhlauli described the state of her husband's body during testimony she gave at the start of the inquiry in the city of Gqeberha, near where the Cradock Four were abducted in June 1985. Relatives of some of the three other men also testified. Thumani Calata never got to know her father, Fort Calata, who had been a teacher. She was born two weeks after the funerals of the Cradock Four, which drew huge crowds and galvanized resistance to apartheid. 'I don't know how it feels, and I will never know how it feels to be hugged by my dad,' Thumani Calata, now 39, told the inquiry as she wept. Two previous inquiries were held during apartheid. A two-year inquest that started in 1987 found the men were killed by unknown people. Another in 1993 said they were killed by unnamed policemen. Police officers implicated have since died. Relatives of the Cradock Four likely will never see justice. The six former police officers directly implicated in the abductions and killings have died, the last one in 2023. None was prosecuted despite the post-apartheid Truth and Reconciliation Commission identifying them and denying them amnesty in the late 1990s. That commission, set up by then-President Nelson Mandela, attempted to confront the atrocities of apartheid in the years after the system officially ended in 1994. While some killers were granted amnesty, more than 5,000 applications were refused and recommended for criminal investigation. Hardly any made it to court. Oscar van Heerden, a political analyst at the University of Johannesburg, said the bitter emotion of relatives at the Cradock Four inquiry showed wounds have not healed. 'Where it was felt that truth was not spoken and there wasn't sufficient evidence to warrant forgiveness, those were cases that were supposed to be formally charged, prosecuted, and justice should have prevailed,' van Heerden said. 'None of that happened.' The failure by post-apartheid governments for 25 years to pursue cases is now being scrutinized. Frustrated, the families of the Cradock Four finally forced authorities to rule last year that there would be a new inquiry into the killings. They also joined with a group of relatives of other apartheid-era victims to take the South African government to court this year over the failure to investigate so many crimes. As part of the settlement in that case, South African President Cyril Ramaphosa ordered a national inquiry led by a retired judge into why apartheid-era killers were not brought to justice. The inquiry, which has not opened yet, threatens to expose further uncomfortable moments for South Africa. While the majority of victims of political violence during apartheid were Black and other people of color, some were white, and families have come together across racial lines. A group of survivors and relatives from the 1993 Highgate Hotel massacre, where unknown men opened fire in a bar full of white customers, joined with the Cradock Four families and others in the case against the government. They allege that post-apartheid authorities deliberately blocked investigations. Other inquests have been reopened, including one into the 1967 death of Albert Luthuli, who was president of the banned anti-apartheid African National Congress movement when he was hit by a train. Luthuli's death has been viewed with suspicion for more than 50 years. At the Cradock Four inquiry, which is expected to resume in October for more testimony, Howard Varney, a lawyer for the families, said this is their last chance to know the truth. The new inquiry has attempted to retrace the killings from the moment of the men's abduction at a nighttime police roadblock to the time their bodies were discovered burned and with signs of torture. The families also want a former military commander and ex-police officers who may have knowledge of the killings to testify. Lukhanyo Calata, the son of Fort Calata, said he accepted it was unlikely anyone would ever be prosecuted over the death of his father and his friends Mhlauli, Matthew Goniwe, and Sparrow Mkonto. But he said he wants official records to finally show who killed them. 'Justice now can really only come in the form of truth,' Lukhanyo Calata told The Associated Press. 'They may not have been prosecuted, they may not have been convicted, but according to court records, this is the truth around the murders of the Cradock Four.'
Associated Press
19-06-2025
- Politics
- Associated Press
South Africa opens a new inquiry into apartheid-era killings known as Cradock Four
JOHANNESBURG (AP) — When Nombuyiselo Mhlauli was given her husband's body back for burial, he had more than 25 stab wounds in his chest and seven in his back, with a gash across his throat. His right hand was missing. Sicelo Mhlauli was one of four Black men abducted, tortured and killed 40 years ago this month by apartheid-era security forces in South Africa. No one has been held accountable for their deaths. But a new judge-led inquiry into the killings of the anti-apartheid activists who became known as the Cradock Four — and who became a rallying cry for those denied justice — opened this month. It is part of a renewed push for the truth by relatives of some of the thousands of people killed by police and others during the years of white minority rule and enforced racial segregation. Mhlauli described the state of her husband's body during testimony she gave at the start of the inquiry in the city of Gqeberha, near where the Cradock Four were abducted in June 1985. Relatives of some of the three other men also testified. Thumani Calata never got to know her father, Fort Calata, who had been a teacher. She was born two weeks after the funerals of the Cradock Four, which drew huge crowds and galvanized resistance to apartheid. 'I don't know how it feels, and I will never know how it feels, to be hugged by my dad,' Thumani Calata, now 39, told the inquiry as she wept. Two previous inquiries were held during apartheid. A two-year inquest that started in 1987 found the men were killed by unknown people. Another in 1993 said they were killed by unnamed policemen. Police officers implicated have since died Relatives of the Cradock Four likely will never see justice. The six former police officers directly implicated in the abductions and killings have died, the last one in 2023. None was prosecuted despite the post-apartheid Truth and Reconciliation Commission identifying them and denying them amnesty in the late 1990s. That commission, set up by then-President Nelson Mandela, attempted to confront the atrocities of apartheid in the years after the system officially ended in 1994. While some killers were granted amnesty, more than 5,000 applications were refused and recommended for criminal investigation. Hardly any made it to court. Oscar van Heerden, a political analyst at the University of Johannesburg, said the bitter emotion of relatives at the Cradock Four inquiry showed wounds have not healed. 'Where it was felt that truth was not spoken and there wasn't sufficient evidence to warrant forgiveness, those were cases that were supposed to be formally charged, prosecuted and justice should have prevailed,' van Heerden said. 'None of that happened.' Taking the government to court The failure by post-apartheid governments for 25 years to pursue cases is now being scrutinized. Frustrated, the families of the Cradock Four finally forced authorities to rule last year that there would be a new inquiry into the killings. They also joined with a group of relatives of other apartheid-era victims to take the South African government to court this year over the failure to investigate so many crimes. As part of the settlement in that case, South African President Cyril Ramaphosa ordered a national inquiry led by a retired judge into why apartheid-era killers were not brought to justice. The inquiry, which has not opened yet, threatens to expose further uncomfortable moments for South Africa. While the majority of victims of political violence during apartheid were Black and other people of color, some were white, and families have come together across racial lines. A group of survivors and relatives from the 1993 Highgate Hotel massacre, where unknown men opened fire in a bar full of white customers, joined with the Cradock Four families and others in the case against the government. They allege that post-apartheid authorities deliberately blocked investigations. Other inquests have been reopened, including one into the 1967 death of Albert Luthuli, who was president of the banned anti-apartheid African National Congress movement when he was hit by a train. Luthuli's death has been viewed with suspicion for more than 50 years. Last chance to know the truth At the Cradock Four inquiry, which is expected to resume in October for more testimony, Howard Varney, a lawyer for the families, said this is their last chance to know the truth. The new inquiry has attempted to retrace the killings, from the moment of the men's abduction at a nighttime police roadblock to the time their bodies were discovered, burned and with signs of torture. The families also want a former military commander and ex-police officers who may have knowledge of the killings to testify. Lukhanyo Calata, the son of Fort Calata, said he accepted it was unlikely anyone would ever be prosecuted over the death of his father and his friends Mhlauli, Matthew Goniwe and Sparrow Mkonto. But he said he wants official records to finally show who killed them. 'Justice now can really only come in the form of truth,' Lukhanyo Calata told The Associated Press. 'They may not have been prosecuted, they may not have been convicted, but according to court records, this is the truth around the murders of the Cradock Four.' ___ AP Africa news:
The Guardian
29-05-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Segregated classrooms are not a thing of the past – look at what is happening in Slovakia
It may come as a surprise to many, but racial segregation in schools exists today in several countries in the EU. In Slovakia, more than 60% of Roma children attend schools where they are in the majority. Worse still: segregation is being rebranded, not removed. In nearly a quarter of all primary schools, Roma children are separated into 'Roma schools' or 'Roma classes' – often in overcrowded buildings, with lower academic expectations, higher drop-out and grade repetition rates, and with little or no clear path to equal participation in life. Furthermore, Roma pupils are often placed in schools and classes for children with mental disabilities. As activists, we are told it's about language. Or behaviour. Or parental choice. Or mental disability. Or because Roma often live in spatially segregated neighbourhoods. We are told it's temporary. However, as the years (and decades) go by, the situation remains the same. Roma in Slovakia, like elsewhere in Europe, have been pushed to the margins of society. As a result of centuries of antigypsyism (the specific form of racism towards Romany people), Roma have long been treated with suspicion and hatred. This has resulted in Europe's largest ethnic minority group also arguably being the most discriminated against. In Slovakia, there are many Romany communities living in such poor conditions (often without access to even running water or electricity) as to be unrecognisable to most Europeans as places to live. The level of discrimination at every level of society is sometimes overwhelming. But among the many barriers to Roma in this informal apartheid, education can offer a small chance for new generations to escape. It is a cornerstone of equality – the place where inclusion begins. Yet in Slovakia, school remains one of the many institutions where they are systematically separated from the rest of society. As the US supreme court ruled in 1954 in the Brown v Board of Education case: 'Separate educational facilities are inherently unequal.' Despite legal guarantees at national and EU level, decades of pressure from civil society and international human rights bodies, judgments issued by courts and even proceedings initiated against Slovakia by the European Commission, segregation continues to define the educational experience of tens of thousands. For several years, the Slovak government denied discriminatory treatment of Roma pupils. They justified the overrepresentation of Roma children in the special education system by stating that Roma in Slovakia have a higher occurrence of genetically determined disorders because of 'the highest coefficient of interbreeding' in Europe. It was only in 2020 that the Slovakian government finally openly acknowledged the existence of the segregation and undertook steps to eradicate it. Several reforms have been introduced. A legal definition of segregation has been added to the School Act. Legally binding standards on desegregation have been published. Legal entitlement to kindergarten has been expanded. Introductory grades were introduced in place of the previously criticised 'zero grade classes' (catchup school years to allegedly bring students to the mainstream level), which were attended largely by Roma pupils. A pilot project branded as a 'Roma national school' was announced that would rebrand segregated schooling under the guise of minority rights to learn in your own language and cultural environment, while in effect changing nothing about the segregated schools. Taken in isolation, and without context, some of these measures may appear constructive. But implemented without clear safeguards, oversight and coordination, they often reinforce the very segregation they claim to address. The new desegregation standards focus primarily on classroom-level inclusion within segregated schools, rather than addressing school-level segregation. Similarly, the creation of Roma national schools could lead to institutionalised segregation at the school-level under the pretext of minority rights. The shift in name from 'zero grade classes' to 'introductory grades' is another example. Though meant to improve school readiness, these classes often replicate the same segregated logic – delaying Roma children's access to mainstream education and streaming them into separate pathways. Slovakia must stop managing segregation and start ending it. We already know what works: diverse classrooms, mixed environments, early and emphatic support. These are not radical ideas. Responsibility lies not only with Slovakia. The persistent segregation of Roma children constitutes a longstanding violation of the race equality directive and the EU charter of fundamental rights. Meanwhile, European Commission targets of reducing segregation of Roma in primary schools by only 50% by 2030 not only give a free pass to segregationists across the bloc, but undermine the illegality of segregation in the first place. The EU cannot afford to look away. Allowing segregation by repacking it undermines the credibility of its commitment to equality and human rights. Segregation, by any other name, remains segregation. The EU must respond to this systemic failure now, before yet further generations of Romany children are denied a future. Kamila Gunišová is a researcher at Amnesty International Slovakia and Michal Zálešák is a legal consultant for the European Roma Rights Centre and attorney-in-law working in Slovakia
