Breaking Point in Zululand

By Bruce W. Nelan

AS A HAZY SUN SET OVER THE GREEN hills of blood-soaked Natal Province last week, Jabulani Shibe tried to do his part to broker the differences between the African National Congress and its bitter foes in the Inkatha Freedom Party. Shibe, 27, a laborer, joined eight of his neighbors in KwaMashu, a black township near Durban, and visited an Inkatha hostel. Suddenly, a group of Inkatha men drew guns and bundled Shibe and his companions into a minibus. They drove through the darkness to a nearby railroad station, where an armed and angry mob of Inkatha supporters was waiting. One by one the peacemakers were ordered out and shot. Five were killed. Said a sobbing Shibe later: "They shot me but I ran."

The Inkatha men told Shibe that he was shot in revenge for the bloodshed in downtown Johannesburg, where a day earlier thousands of Zulus clashed with A.N.C. security guards and police in running gun battles through the city's steel and glass canyons. The violence, said Inkatha leader Mangosuthu Buthelezi ominously, marked the beginning of "a final struggle to the finish between the A.N.C. and the Zulu nation."

Such public bellicosity was too much for President F.W. de Klerk, who had been under A.N.C. pressure for weeks to crack down on Buthelezi and Inkatha. De Klerk could hesitate no longer. He declared a state of emergency in Natal Province, which includes the KwaZulu homeland where Buthelezi is chief minister. It will now be up to South Africa's army and police to control the incessant political violence in the region and make sure that voting in the country's first all-race elections can take place there on April 26, 27 and 28, despite Inkatha's fierce opposition. Not an easy task. In a fresh outbreak of violence, 13 people were killed Friday night in several separate attacks in Natal. Two of the victims were children attending a church service.

Most South Africans were hoping against history that the elections designed to transform their country would go smoothly. But just as the centuries of white domination come to an end, the prospect of a civil war that might blow up the process has shaken the country's 40 million citizens. De Klerk, opting to fight for peace if necessary, ordered in the troops. The choice -- between rebellion and acquiescence -- is now up to Inkatha.

Warfare was the rule last week. Early Monday morning thousands of Zulus, carrying spears, axes, clubs, pistols and a few AK-47 rifles, surged into Johannesburg's main business district. At Shell House, the 21-story office building housing A.N.C. headquarters, security men fired a fusillade at the demonstrators, turning the pavement into a jumble of bleeding bodies and hawkers' overturned stands. A few blocks away, rooftop snipers opened fire, killing several more marchers and sending thousands of demonstrators and office workers fleeing in panic. When the casualties were counted, 53 people were dead and more than 400 injured.

The bloodshed in central Johannesburg forced national political leaders to focus on Natal, where most of the killing has been going on in recent months. Battles between Inkatha and the A.N.C. began 10 years ago when young township activists rose up against the South African and homeland governments. In the apartheid-engineered homeland of KwaZulu, where 4.5 million of Natal's 6.5 million people live, the fight pits mostly urbanized A.N.C. supporters against more traditional, rural Inkatha members.

Though there is a degree of tribal rivalry between the Zulus of Inkatha and / the largely Xhosa leadership of the A.N.C., the combatants on both sides in Natal are Zulus. During 1993 more than 2,000 of them died in the fighting. Last month the toll was at least 290. But the conflict has also spread outside Natal, to urban centers in other provinces where thousands of Zulu migrant workers live in single-sex hostels.

Naturally, the two main black political factions blame each other for the violence. Inkatha's purpose in marching on Johannesburg, said the A.N.C., "is quite clear: to make it impossible to hold free and fair elections." No, responded Buthelezi, the fire fight proved that A.N.C. leaders "fear the Zulus and wish to destroy Zulu unity."

After a three-hour cabinet meeting in Pretoria, De Klerk announced the state of emergency in Natal. "We are in control," he said. "There is no need for panic. The elections will take place on the scheduled dates." The emergency regulations to be applied in the Indian Ocean province will give police and the army broad authority to act against anyone who is promoting violence. The security forces will decide which rallies to permit or ban, and will be empowered to detain suspects and seize weapons. About 300 army troops are already on duty in the province and more are being sent, along with reinforcements for the South African police. De Klerk stressed that Buthelezi was not being replaced -- yet. "This is not aimed at the KwaZulu government," he said. At the same time, De Klerk warned that Pretoria could intervene in KwaZulu if it tried to block free elections.

Intensely proud of the Zulu nation's military traditions, Buthelezi reacted angrily. "It looks like an invasion," he fumed. The Inkatha Freedom Party was being pushed "into the ((election)) process through the barrel of a gun," he charged. De Klerk's decision was "humiliating," Buthelezi said, especially since it came just a week before he and Zulu King Goodwill Zwelethini were to meet with De Klerk and Mandela. That meeting, reportedly to discuss granting official recognition to the Zulu monarchy, may be the last chance to resolve the crisis before the election.

The long conflict between Inkatha and the A.N.C. has many roots. At its core is a power struggle between the Congress, an organization Buthelezi sees as Marxist and dangerously revolutionary, and Inkatha, which the A.N.C. depicts as a right-wing, ethnic party led by an autocrat. Buthelezi is the only significant political figure in South Africa, right or left, who has refused ; to take part in this month's elections. He is holding out, he says, for a federal system that will keep an A.N.C. central government from dominating the Zulus. If he cannot win provincial autonomy, he demands a sovereign Zulu kingdom under the rule of King Goodwill, his nephew.

Open conflict with the South African security forces would be self- defeating, but Buthelezi could unleash a newly organized Zulu "self- defense unit" of 5,000 men, and there are thousands of loyal Zulu irregulars who could complicate the elections with dead-of-night raids, assassinations and sabotage. If Buthelezi were to launch such subversion, De Klerk would be likely to fulfill his promise to sweep out the KwaZulu establishment, starting with its chief minister.

With the declaration of emergency, De Klerk has put Buthelezi on the road to political oblivion. The Zulu leader cannot win if he openly defies the security forces, and his refusal to contest the elections hands the A.N.C. a victory, even in Natal, and a bigger majority nationally. When the new constitution goes into effect at the end of this month there will be no KwaZulu and no chief minister. Buthelezi may well end up with many angry supporters, but as a man without a country.

With reporting by Scott MacLeod/Durban