Crime and Policing in Transitional Societies

30 August–1 September 2000Jan Smuts House, University of the Witwatersrand

Johannesburg

Introduction 7

Mark Shaw, South African Institute of International Affairs (SAIIA), South Africa

Crime and Policing in Transitional Societies – 9

Conference Summary and Overview

Mark Shaw, SAIIA, South Africa

Welcoming Remarks 17

Michael Lange, Konrad Adenauer Foundation, South Africa

Politics and Policing in Northern Ireland – The Way Ahead 19

Adam Ingram, Minister of State for Northern Ireland, United Kingdom

South Africa: Crime and Policing in Transition 27

Steve Tshwete, Minister for Safety and Security, South Africa

The Nigerian Experience 29

David Jemibewon, Minister for Police Affairs, Nigeria

AN OVERVIEW OF PROBLEMS AND ISSUES

The New Policing 35

Philip Heymann, Harvard University, United States

Crime, Justice and the Legacy of the Past 61

Adrian Guelke, Queen’s University, Northern Ireland

THE GROWTH, EXTENT AND CAUSES OF CRIME

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime: International Crime Overview 69

Anna Alvazzi del Frate, United Nations Interregional Crime and Justice

Research Institute (UNICRI), Italy

Crime, Violence and Political Uncertainty in Brazil 77

Paulo de Mesquita Neto, University of São Paulo, Brazil

Table of Contents

3

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime: Moçambique 93

Luis Antonio Mondelane, Supreme Court, Moçambique

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime: Ukraine 99

Igor Zhdanov, Ukrainian Centre for Economic and Political Studies, Ukraine

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime: Northern Ireland 103

John Brewer, Queen’s University, Northern Ireland

Crime in Russia at the Turn of the 21st Century 111

Vitali Kvashis and Michael Babaev, Ministry of Internal Affairs, Russian Federation

POLICE TRANSFORMATION

Police Transformation: The Palestinian Authority Perspective 117

Assad Mubarak, Ministry of Justice, Palestinian Authority

Police Reform and South Africa’s Transition 119

Janine Rauch, Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, South Africa

Police Transformation in Nigeria: Problems and Prospects 127

Innocent Chukwuma, Centre for Law Enforcement Education, Nigeria

Reform of the Police in Ukraine: The Need for Cooperation Between the Police and 135

Public in Tackling Crime

Alexey Povolotskiy, University of Internal Affairs, Ukraine

GOVERNMENT RESPONSES AND POLICIES

Crime as a Development Issue 141

Ted Leggett, University of Natal, South Africa

Police Reform and Democratic Consolidation: Chile 151

Hugo Frühling, University of Chile, Chile

Crime and its Discontent: Recent South African Responses and Policies 167

Elrena van der Spuy, University of Cape Town, South Africa

Government Responses and Policies: Poland as an Example 177

Emil Plywaczewski, University of Bialystok, Poland

City Security and Crime in Peru 181

Cesar Benavides, Peruvian Institute of Criminology (Instituto Peruano de

Criminalistica Y Pericias), Peru

Government Responses in South Africa: Policy and Implementation 185

Iole Matthews, Independent Projects Trust, South Africa

4

Table of Contents

THE ROLE AND REACTION OF CITIZENS

Citizens, Crime and Criminal Justice in Central and Eastern Europe 193

Ugljesa Zvekic, United Nations Office for Drug Control and Crime Prevention

(UNODCCP), Southern Africa

Citizens Perceptions of Crime and Policing in South Africa 197

Antoinette Louw, Institute of Security Studies, South Africa

The Role of “Private Security” in Transitional Democracies 205

Clifford D. Shearing and Michael Kempa, University of Toronto, Canada

“The Politics Fits the Crime”: Competing Interpretations of Victim Empowerment 215

in South Africa

Graeme Simpson, Centre for the Study of Violence and Reconciliation, South Africa

INTERNATIONAL AND REGIONAL INITIATIVES

International Strategies for Crime Prevention in Transitional Societies: 229

Problems and Prospects

Jeremy Travis, The Urban Institute, United States

International and Regional Initiatives: Providing Appropriate International Assistance 235

Adrian Beck, University of Leicester, United Kingdom

Attempts of Regional Responses to Crime in the Ex-USSR and Eastern Europe 241

Valentin Yakushik, University of Kiev, Ukraine

International and Regional Initiatives: Southern Africa Region 245

Peter Gastrow, Institute of Security Studies, South Africa

Programme 251

Participants’ List 255

Seminar Reports 259

Occasional Paper Series 261

5

Table of Contents

While South Africa has faced high levels of crime in the first few years of the establishment of democ-racy, the country is by no means unique. A number of other societies that have also experienced transi-tions from authoritarian to democratic rule have undergone similar experiences. In almost all cases,such transitions have been accompanied by equally dramatic changes in economic and social circum-stances, some of which have resulted in higher levels of crime.

These and related issues were considered at a conference entitled Crime and Policing in Transitional

Societies, on which this publication is based. The conference was held at the South African Institute ofInternational Affairs from 30 August to 1 September 2000 and was sponsored by, among others, theFord Foundation, the Konrad Adenauer Foundation, the British Council and MTN.

The meeting drew participants from around the world including a number of transitional societies:Argentina, Brazil, Peru, Chile, Russia, Poland, Ukraine, Nigeria, Moçambique and South Africa.Speakers from Northern Ireland, Palestine and Israel also participated, as did contributors from NorthAmerica and Europe who are closely involved with funding police transformation and crime-fightingexercises in developing countries.

The issues debated by the conference are of considerable importance in each of the societies represent-ed. While each have very different historical contexts – Latin American countries, for example, experi-enced a wave of democratisation in the mid-1980s, while in Eastern and Central Europe and in Africa,democratisation occurred later – there are a number of important parallels between them. Most notably– and an issue which was discussed in some detail at the conference – police transformation in each ofthe societies remains a highly contested and often difficult process. Thus, one of the central questionsof the conference was simply: How can old instruments of political oppression be effectively trans-formed to face new criminal threats?

The conference was characterised by high levels of participation and support from the South Africangovernment. The conference banquet was attended by both the Minister for Safety and Security, SteveTshwete (whose short address is included in the collection), and the Director of Public Prosecutions,Bulelani Ncguka. Both Tshwete and Ncguka in their contributions and in response to questions there-after outlined many of the challenges that South Africa faces.

The conference itself was designed to ensure maximum debate among the participants. Each contribu-tor was asked to provide a short input along clearly defined guidelines. These papers represent a collec-tion of some of the contributions, where participants agreed to put their ideas into writing. Thus manyof the papers represent not only what various participants contributed to the conference, but also someof the debates within individual sessions. The collection is preceded by a summary of the discussionsthat took place at the conference. This summary provides an overview of all the major themes, debatesand some of the conclusions of the conference.

7

Introduction

One important outcome of the conference was agreement that greater cooperation was requiredbetween both researchers and practitioners in respect of this topic. In this regard, it is important to notethat the holding of the conference was not an end in itself. The event is part of a broader research pro-ject that examines the nature and extent of crime and policing problems in countries experiencing tran-sition. It is intended that this research programme will be completed with a detailed publication of thegeneral lessons to be learnt from a range of transitional societies in fighting crime by early 2002.

It is hoped that this publication provides a unique insight into some of the problems as well as successstories of societies that have struggled with violence and crime as they emerge from periods of transi-tion. Its contents emphasise both the degree to which the issue of fighting crime in such societies is ofcritical importance, and the extent to which the experience of the past decade has ensured the growth ofexpertise and critical analysis in this area.

Dr Mark Shaw

Research Fellow

South African Institute of International Affairs (SAIIA)

8

Introduction

BACKGROUNDThe South African Institute of InternationalAffairs (SAIIA) staged a conference on Crime

and Policing in Transitional Societies from 30August to 1 September 2000. The eventstemmed from the belief that crime and polic-ing problems in a number of societies that haveexperienced a transition from authoritarian todemocratic rule might hold comparativelessons. Selected academics, policy analystsand practitioners from transitional societies inLatin America (Brazil, Argentina, Peru andChile), Africa (South Africa, Nigeria andMoçambique) and Eastern Europe and the for-mer Soviet Union (Russia, Ukraine andPoland) were invited.

Representatives from two other transitionalsocieties, Northern Ireland and Israel/Palestine,were also present. Additional participants whohave worked in or studied these societies fromthe United Kingdom, United States (US) andCanada as well as the United Nations Officefor Drug Control and Crime Prevention(Southern Africa) and the United NationsInterregional Crime and Justice ResearchInstitute attended.

The following discussion broadly reflects thedebate which took place at the conference. Itdoes not attempt to be a summary of all thepapers presented but instead seeks to give aflavour of both the issues discussed and someof the tentative conclusions reached.

The overall aim of the conference was tobring together representatives from transitionalsocieties to begin a process of comparativeanalysis which to date has not occurred. Thelink between the dramatic political, economic

and social transitions in these societies, on theone hand, and growing levels of crime as wellas differing policing responses, on the other,are little understood. Comparing the linksbetween the transitions and the growth of crimeand transformation of the police in these statessuggests some important conclusions not onlyin respect of the key causal features which gen-erate crime in transitional societies but, byimplication, also which areas of policy focusmay have the greatest impact on reducingcrime.

1. LINKING TRANSITIONS TO CRIMEIt has often been said that crime in SouthAfrica is related to the transition from authori-tarian rule to democracy in the country. Similarpatterns appear to apply in other transitionalsocieties such as those who have moved frommilitary to civilian rule in Latin America, theformer communist regimes of Eastern andCentral Europe, as well as states in Africa,most clearly illustrated by Nigeria andMoçambique, which have moved from authori-tarian forms of rule or civil war to fledglingdemocracies.

The rise of crime in periods of political (andrelated economic and social) transition is acomplex phenomenon difficult to analyse.Statistical data on levels of crime before andafter the transition are difficult to come by, andwhen available, their accuracy may be open toquestion. In South Africa, for example, thereare no reliable crime statistics for the wholecountry before January 1994. At the same time,our understanding of crime in authoritariansocieties is often complicated by the fact that

9

Crime and Policing in TransitionalSocieties – Conference Summary

and Overview

Mark Shaw

10

Shaw

state repression led to a blurring of the bound-aries of political and criminal activity and thatthe state itself was often a significant source(although not defined as such at the time) ofcriminal activity.

These issues raise important questions aboutwhether or not dramatic transitions lead to themore visible appearance of older forms of crim-inal activity in new guises or whether transi-tions themselves give rise to new forms ofcriminal activity. In South Africa, for example,is the increase in crime predominantly theresult of a displacement of criminal activitypreviously contained in townships and whichhas now spread to (white) suburban areas?Have levels of rape, for example, not alwaysbeen high but now because they are reported(and viewed with concern by both governmentand citizens) it appears that the transition hasbrought with it remarkably high levels of sexu-al violence?

The answer probably lies somewhere inbetween the two positions. Old forms of crimi-nal activity have undoubtedly been displaced(often in new forms) into the new democraticorder, while at the same time they have beenjoined by growth in the overall level of allforms of criminality. Of course, this still leavesthe question of why a shift from authoritarianrule to democracy should lead to higher levelsof crime, and if so, how?

Ironically, and contrary to popular belief,increases in crime in transitional societies maybe less an issue of declining levels of lawenforcement and policing than is commonlyassumed. A comparison of authoritarianregimes across countries suggests that most cit-izens were policed as much for crime control asfor political control. Yet it is not certainwhether policing in most post-authoritarianstates has improved in the eyes of the majorityof citizens, and if it has, whether this is notbecause the police are more effective in con-trolling crime, but because they are now lessrepressive and thereby less intrusive.

2. ARE THERE COMMONALITIES?An overview of the growth of crime in a num-ber of transitional societies suggests a morecomplex reason for the growth in crime: thebreakdown of community and related principlesof social organisation, including the crime con-trol arrangements and reduced risks for punish-

ment, as well as an increase in opportunities,targets and motivation. Thus, dramatic political,economic and social transitions may be muchmore disruptive of the internal social organisa-tion, including that of crime prevention andcontrol, of communities than has often beenassumed. The conference presentations sug-gested that three forms of internal social organ-isation may be dramatically altered in a periodof transition:• First, in societies such as in South Africa, the

struggle against an authoritarian state pro-duces opposing forms of community cohe-sion and social control, which keeps crimi-nality in check. In Northern Ireland, forexample, criminal activities have beenrestricted given the vulnerability of offenders(who are threatened with prosecution if theydo not agree) to being recruited as informersby the police.

• Second, in communist countries with cen-tralised political structures such as in Easternand Central Europe and the former SovietUnion the state itself imposed the organisa-tional network. The collapse of the communist state led to a breakdown of thesestructures, fragmenting local forms of socialcohesion without any immediate replace-ment.

• Third, in most societies, quite apart fromstructures established in a response to, or by,an authoritarian state, some form of commu-nity controls remained. These include struc-tures such as the church, community groups,the extended family and neighbourhoodgroups. A review of societies which haveundergone dramatic transitions suggests thatthese structures are weakened and lose theirreach into the community. This is a result ofthe strength of the two new forms of commu-nity cohesion outlined above and which aregenerated by authoritarian states. But it isalso a consequence of the disruptive nature oftransitions and the violence that often accom-panies them, weakening old forms of socialorganisation which no longer provide anattractive option for increasingly militarisedand vocal sectors of the society, often theyouth. In addition, traditional forms of socialcontrol are undercut during periods of transi-tion by the emergence of new social move-ments and non-governmental organisations(NGOs).

11

Shaw

The breakdown of social and state controlsappears to be the single most common factorleading to the growth of crime in diverse transi-tional societies. Traditional forms of internalsocial cohesion may be replaced by – or mutateinto – a different set of organising principles,including criminal organisations or gangs. Incommunities feeling threatened by a growinggroup of criminals this may also take the formof vigilante groups which come to play animportant role in local community cohesion.

Changes brought about by the dramaticimpact of the political transition are exacerbat-ed by longer term processes of industrialisationand urbanisation which have themselves had aconsiderable impact on the changing nature ofcommunity and social controls. In a post-apartheid society, the effects of HIV/AIDS mayalready be having a considerable impact, bothon family units and organisation and on cogni-tive behaviour.

Post-authoritarian and post-conflict societiesare increasingly subject to structural changes intheir economies. While a number of approachesare followed in this regard, transitional soci-eties tend to share the experience of changes inthe ownership structure (privatisation), the mul-tiplication of economic actors and the influ-ences of globalisation. Many transitional soci-eties also seek to redefine the role of the stateby reducing or altering its role in economicactivity. In such states, the access to newly-cre-ated opportunities is not equal for all. This fac-tor, combined with the requirement for politicallegitimacy and the need to attempt to meet pop-ular expectations, creates contradictory pres-sures. In societies such as South Africa, thesepressures are complicated by a political andeconomic commitment to improve the lot ofpreviously disadvantaged groups.

Such frictions are common to transitionalsocieties. There appears to be an abundance ofstructural as well as other motivational factorsfor the involvement of people in “alternativeopportunities” both in the context of the growthof the informal and the criminal economy. Suchrecourse to the illicit is facilitated by the break-down and loosening of the mechanisms of for-mal and social control, including the dimin-ished risks of punitive and/or resocialising reac-tions. If, over time, poverty and marginalisationare perceived as a likely reality, the recourse tothe illicit is often (particularly for the young)

perceived as the most efficient and low riskavenue to live better now rather than wait forthe uncertain prospects for improvementpromised by the state. No amount of politicalrhetoric about building a new democratic soci-ety (except perhaps at the initial stages of col-lective enthusiasm) matches the economic real-ity of unequal access to the new opportunitiesfor wealth. Although these observations arehardly new, they are important in understand-ing the growth of criminal activity in transition-al societies.

3. THE OLD REFLECTED IN THE NEWAt the same time as these developments occur,post-authoritarian states are often, as in SouthAfrica, attempting to secure their hold on thelevers of the security establishment. Here thereare multiple challenges. The most commonacross all societies represented at the confer-ence is the desire to legitimate the old forces oforder to ensure citizens look to the police fortheir safety. What appears clear is that noamount of urging by political leaders that thepolice are now legitimate is enough; agenciesof law enforcement have to prove their legiti-macy through effective operation. There is, asyet, the conference concluded, no clear case ofany society in transition being able to build alegitimate police agency in the post-conflictphase. The growth of crime itself in transitionalsocieties has in many cases undercut the growthof local forms of policing by ensuring morecentralised and militarised responses to disor-der.

A key to building the legitimacy of the policeis to ensure effective forms of local control andaccountability – in effect, to make citizensbelieve that the police are responsive to theirneeds, and not those of some bureaucrat in adistant capital. Here all transitional societieshave had to balance the requirement of ensur-ing local accountability (which remains weak inall cases) with centralised control – the desireto manage change from the centre to ensureboth that it occurs uniformly and that localgroups (who may oppose the central state) donot obtain control of the police in their area.

The absence of social and community con-trols and the establishment of a democracybring paradoxical forces into play in most tran-sitional societies. On one hand, the conditionsfor the growth of crime are enhanced, on the

12

Shaw

other, citizens look (as they have never donebefore) to the state for protection. Given thevery real constraints on the post-transition statein delivering effective systems of criminal jus-tice (such as low skills levels, lack of represen-tative institutions and poor resourcing) citizensare likely, over time, to seek alternative formsof protection. For the poor community this willinclude forms of protection such as vigilantegroups and for the wealthy (including the busi-ness sector), the increased privatisation ofpolicing and crime prevention.

The parallels among transitional societies arestriking. Probably the most effective means ofcontrolling and preventing crime in the longerterm is the one least open to the state: the re-establishment of effective means of communityand social control. Key to the process is boththe establishment of effective local systems ofdemocracy through which people can exercisetheir rights and express their grievances as wellas the support of institutions such as churches,schools, sport and youth activities which assistin the building of stronger and more cohesivecommunities. The conference noted, however,that the difficulty of implementing such pro-jects is great, since there is the added problemthat such initiatives are often difficult to link toreductions in crime in the short term, thus beingharder to sell to policy makers.

Comparative experience suggests that whilethe state is good at breaking down forms oflocal social control and cohesion it is notorious-ly bad at reconstructing these. What is clear,however, is that a concentration of improvedlaw enforcement alone (however necessary)will not stem the long-term crime problems ofstates emerging from periods of transition. Thissuggests that the implementation of crime pre-vention projects as understood in the developedworld (and often marketed in transitional anddeveloping societies) is not the most appropri-ate route. Instead, comparative experience indi-cates that much greater debate and effort isrequired to seek alternative ways of rebuildingthe social fabric in post-conflict and post-authoritarian societies.

The danger, however, in societies in transi-tion is that responses to crime become increas-ingly militarised. In many post-authoritariansocieties this results from the dual pressures ofincreased public insistence on government to beseen to act against lawlessness as well as pres-

sures from within the security establishment. Inrespect of the latter, policing organisationswhich have undergone dramatic processes oftransformation seek security in operationswhich they know and are comfortable with, andin any event may have been urging as an appro-priate response to crime. The dangers of suchapproaches in post-authoritarian states is thatimportant gains in respect of the protection ofhuman rights may be undercut over time. Suchmilitarised responses to crime control, whilethey may often be sold as such, should not beseen as the same as problem solving and/or sat-uration policing in more advanced democracies.The case of the decline in crime in New Yorkin the recent past and the policing approachesused in this respect, are drawn upon in a sur-prising number of post-authoritarian states aspotential solutions to domestic crime problems.Yet implementation in often fragile democra-cies carries the danger of a return (or at leastperceptions to this effect) to authoritarianism.

Some distinction should be made, however,between increasingly militarised responses tocrime and more specialised responses such asthe establishment of high profile national inves-tigative units. Given the complexity and sophis-tication of criminal organisations, such unitsare an essential addition to the tools available tothe government to fight crime. The establish-ment of such units highlights an additionalproblem for many countries moving fromauthoritarian rule to democracy: poor coopera-tion between law enforcement personnel andprosecutors. Given that one of the outcomes ofdemocratic policing is the presentation of evi-dence before an impartial court of law, improv-ing these mechanisms is essential to the long-term success of post-authoritarian policing.

4. EXTERNAL IMPACTSThe conference sought to examine the impactof foreign assistance provided to countries intransition with significant problems of policereform and crime. Indeed, many of the coun-tries have had quite close links with foreignfunding organisations and the law enforcementagencies of foreign governments (particularlythe US) who are assisting in both the reformprocess and the fight against crime. These inter-ventions have not been uncritically accepted inthe recipient countries. There was consensusthat many assistance programmes were not

13

Shaw

designed with the recipient country in mind andthat assistance such as training was oftenoffered simply because it was available ratherthan because it was relevant to the needs oftransitional societies. In particular, the focus ofthe US on issues of transnational organisedcrime and drugs had the ability to distort locallaw enforcement agencies and focus scarceresource on areas which, while of concern toforeigners, were of little value to the immediatesafety needs of the local population.

It was also suggested that extensive foreigntraining programmes might have two inter-con-nected impacts. The first is to undermine thedevelopment of innovative local responses tocrime problems, given that foreign assistanceoften points to particular sets of solutions,despite the fact that these were developed inother more developed societies. Second, whilethere were some advantages in this regard, lawenforcement and criminal justice agencies intransitional societies could increasingly beginto look the same, drawing on similar trainingprogrammes and heavily conditioned by for-eign experience (especially that of developeddemocracies). While this holds out the possibil-ity of better cooperation between agencies whowould be in a position to understand their coun-terparts actions and systems, it also might meanthat local initiatives will not be encouraged.Overall it was concluded that the impact of for-eign assistance on the development of localsystems of criminal justice in transitional soci-eties were little understood, despite the fact thatthese were likely in the medium term to be oneof the most important influences in their devel-opment.

In all cases it was agreed that regionalresponses to problems of criminality wereessential but, in the main and with the possibleexception of Southern Africa, were reasonablyunderdeveloped. It appeared that the develop-ment of mechanisms of regional cooperationwere often, although not always, dependent onthe strength of political cooperation amongstates. Regional cooperation held out theprospect of improving the ability of countries toprevent crime and combat criminality by ensur-ing that neighbouring “safe havens” were elimi-nated or made less attractive for criminals.While an international convention againsttransnational organised crime has been agreedupon at the 10th United Nations Congress on

the “Prevention of Crime and the Treatment ofOffenders”, there was some concern that oncetransitional countries sign the convention, inpractice they will have limited capacity toimplement it. The issue of international assis-tance is thus of paramount importance.

5. POLICING CITIZENS AND CITIZENS AS POLICENowhere is the failure of societies emergingfrom authoritarian rule more clearly illustratedthan in citizens’ perceptions of the police. Inthe majority of transitional societies, the policeare viewed as ineffective by the citizenry.There are clearly exceptions to this, however,and in some cases data suggests that while thepublic appear willing to work with the police,little or no advantage is being taken to buildbetter community confidence in policing by thepolice through the provision of better levels ofservice delivery.

In many societies citizens have begun to taketheir own initiatives against crime. Most com-monly this takes two forms – the growth of theprivate security industry and the emergence ofvigilantism. Again, the degree to which thismanifests itself in any society is dependent onits history and traditions. In Eastern and CentralEurope and the former Soviet Union cases ofvigilante-type activities appear to be less welldeveloped given a historic over-reliance on thestate under communism for the delivery of ser-vices. While citizens are unhappy with the gen-eral level of service provision by the criminaljustice system, they remain reliant on the state.In countries in Africa and Latin America wherecommunities have, often in response to authori-tarian rule, sought community responses toensure local safety, vigilante groups in variousguises have become reasonably common. Stateresponses to these vigilante groups range fromattempts to co-opt them to direct attacks uponthem. It is also instructive to note that vigilantegroups themselves in some countries were like-ly over time, and as they developed dominancein any particular area, to become involved inthe illegal accumulation of resources to ensuretheir own survival.

The development of relatively sophisticatedprivate security industries in the majority oftransitional societies was viewed with concern.In most cases the employment of private securi-ty was designed to protect the rich from thepoor, perpetuating old divisions or extending

14

Shaw

divisions within the societies along class lines.The cross over between the security agencies ofthe state and private security companies wasseen as a worrying development. This occurredthrough police officers or other state securityofficials moonlighting as security guards,despite the fact that this was illegal in most ofthe countries represented. Or, because formermembers of the security establishment who hadleft to establish or work in private securityoperations retained some links to the state’ssecurity forces. There was a recognition that theexistence of active private security sectors wasa reality that governments would have toaccept. Ironically, effective regulation of theprivate security sector requires law enforce-ment capacity; precisely the reason why privatesecurity operations were in a position to exploitthe market in the first place. In both the case ofvigilantism and private security it appeared thatthe issue was now less how these securityinstruments which competed with the statecould be eradicated, but rather how they couldbe managed.

UNCOMFORTABLE CONCLUSIONSThe conference highlighted both the impor-tance of social responses to crime control intransitional societies as well as the criticalnecessity of achieving satisfactory policereform. However, while there was a concernthat military-type law enforcement initiativeswere likely to increasingly dominate responsesto crime in fledgling democracies with anauthoritarian past, there was a recognition thatsuch interventions were to some extentinevitable given the scale of the problem. It wasstrongly urged, however, that such operationsshould be balanced with programmes thatsought to undercut many of the causal featuresof high levels of criminality in the societiesunder consideration. Nor should a more spe-cialised (and often nationally driven) approachto crime control undercut the critical necessityof improving the service delivery functions ofthe local police. What is required is a more bal-anced debate on the correct mix between lawenforcement and prevention; and locally andnationally driven interventions.

Thus, the conference noted that what isrequired is a blend of crime prevention, serviceorientation, the involvement of local communi-ties, local accountability, professionalisation

and specialisation of the police, as well as ade-quate “law and order” responses (with duerespect for human rights). While agreeing thatthe above mix is generally the “blueprint”always proposed, participants were quick tohighlight that the determination of the propor-tion of, and the relationship between, each ofthese factors depends on the domestic contextin any transitional society.

In addition, some agreement was reachedaround the requisites for police reform in tran-sitional societies. It was concluded that thesemust be informed; feasible and manageable;strategic; structured but flexible to allow forshort-term adaptions; and under constant evalu-ation and scrutiny of democratic control.Moreover, it was emphasised that police reform(or for that matter crime control) is not theexclusive preserve of the police and mustinvolve external actors such as the private sec-tor as well as community inputs. In this respectNGOs had played an important role in issues ofpolice transformation in almost all the transi-tional societies represented at the meeting.

While the conference covered much groundthere was a recognition that some areas had notreceived the attention they deserved. Thechanging culture of police agencies in the tran-sitional period (which one participant describedas “the changing soul of the institution”)required some analysis. In addition, issuesrelated to the justice and corrections system intransitional societies (although the conferencehad explicitly only concentrated on the police)should also receive attention. Generally, theconference ended with a degree of pessimism –it was accepted that there was, as yet, no post-authoritarian state which had clearly been ableto achieve significantly enhanced levels of safe-ty for its citizens. If any case seemed to holdthe least promise it was that of police reform inNigeria, given both the scale of the country andthe size of its police agency (approximately 120 000 for 140 million people) and the extentof lawlessness characteristic of Nigerian soci-ety.

At the same time there was a degree of opti-mism about the growing recognition at the con-ference of the dimensions of the problem andthe fact that governments (many of whom wererepresented at the meeting) were beginning toview the issue with concern. Absolutely key tosuccess in fighting crime in transition societies,

15

Shaw

the conference concluded, was an understand-ing that innovative local solutions wererequired to problems which were often shapedby powerful local influences. It was explicitlyrecognised that despite the fact that autono-mous paths to development are restricted withinthe context of an increasingly globalised worldorder, police reform and crime control policywhich builds on local potential is the mostviable strategy. This is even more important inview of another recognition, that is, while dif-ferent transitional societies existed in differentcontexts, success in one might hold the promiseof some success in others. The role of analystsworking in the area was not only to scrutinisegovernment pronouncements on crime andpolicing policy but to communicate both suc-cesses and failures to their counterparts in othertransitional societies. The latter is at the sametime a very promising avenue for effectiveinternational assistance.

It is envisaged that there will be a number oflonger term outcomes of the conference. It isimportant that the amount of documentationavailable on the subject is increased so that therichness of the debates is not lost. The confer-ence proceedings and papers by selected pre-senters are published in this Konrad AdenauerFoundation Seminar Report, which will bewidely distributed.

In addition, it is hoped that a more detailedresearch paper will be produced which attemptsto draw lessons from a number of transitionalsocieties. This will be distributed to conferenceparticipants. It is clear that the conference hasgiven rise to a new area of debate among thoseworking on crime control policy issues in tran-sitional societies.

The organisers hope to gather such individu-als together again to discuss in more detail par-ticular aspects of the problem and with morediscussion on appropriate policy alternatives.

INTRODUCTIONOn behalf of the Konrad Adenauer Foundation(KAF) and the other sponsors, it gives me greatpleasure to welcome you to this conference onCrime and Policing in Transitional Societies.

This is not the first time KAF has cooperatedwith the South African Institute of InternationalAffairs (SAIIA) in preparing a conference ofthis nature on an issue that is closely related tothe overall objectives of KAF’s work as a polit-ical foundation in the new South Africa.

Questions relating to the consolidation of thenew political dispensation in this country – asin other parts of Africa and Eastern Europe –are of prime concern to us all. This is particu-larly relevant when such issues threaten theoverall success of political reforms, implement-ed after years of suffering under a political sys-tem that deprived people of the opportunity topursue personal dreams of a better life – on anequal footing – in a democratic society.

1. BACKGROUND TO KAFKAF, as with the other German political foun-dations active in South Africa, is a unique fea-ture of today’s democratic culture in Germany.The move behind the creation of the politicalfoundations was the expectation that politicaland civic education, by way of organising suchconferences and debates, could help developand consolidate democratic dispensations, notonly in Europe but the world over.

Both in Germany and abroad, these founda-tions seek to further develop and encouragepeople to engage in the political debate, there-by strengthening democracy and promoting apluralistic society.

KAF is closely affiliated with Germany’sChristian Democratic Union Party – a centristpolitical party. It proudly bears the name of oneof its founding members, Konrad Adenauer: aGerman statesmen of great stature, who even-tually became the first Chancellor of post-warGermany.

KAF has been cooperating with partnersthroughout the world for almost 40 years.Currently, some 80 colleagues oversee some200 projects and programmes in more than 100countries. In this way, the Foundation makes aunique contribution to policies serving peaceand justice in international relations.

KAF is currently running wide-ranging pro-grammes in different parts of Africa, as well asin the different provinces of South Africa. TheFoundation cooperates not only with politicalparties and their respective think tanks, but alsowith reputable academic institutions, as youwill surely note from today’s event.

2. CRIME AND TRANSITIONCrime is of major concern to all countries intransition. This has been proven throughout theworld in recent years, where we have seennumerous countries – particularly in EasternEurope – struggling to come to grips with thisundesired element in a society freed from theshackles of tutelage and oppression.

Recent polls in South Africa are proof of thefact that the implementation of democracy andthe rule of law, together with the economictransformation currently under way, cannot becontinuously implemented without causing frus-tration and disappointment to many SouthAfricans who yearn for instant material rewards.

17

Welcoming Remarks

Michael Lange

18

Lange

This may be understandable in light of thefact that approximately 20 million South Afri-cans, representing almost half the current popu-lation, must be considered poor in the sensethat their incomes fall below the poverty line.

Polls reveal that crime is of foremost concernto most, if not all, South Africans. Manyexpress the opinion that the rule of law has allbut disappeared. Criminals – some stated –seem better protected under the new constitu-tion than the average law-abiding citizen.

The challenge for the South African crimefighting agencies is therefore enormous. Likeso many institutions in South Africa during theapartheid years, the police force was neverdesigned to provide a broad-based and equi-table service to all the people of this country. Itis hoped that the planned establishment ofmunicipal police services by local governmentswould help address these inequities.

Policing across cultural lines at the same timecannot be seen in isolation of the country’s his-tory. Some professional observers of the crimesituation have even warned that the situation inparticular urban areas, as in some townships,has moved dangerously close to anarchy.

It is also discouraging to read in the newspa-pers that more than 14 000 police officers ofthe 120 000-strong South African police forceare currently facing criminal charges rangingfrom murder and rape to theft, bribery andreckless driving.

If we define tyranny as “public order withoutfreedom” and anarchy as “freedom withoutpublic order”, we somehow seem to witness inthe South Africa of today the former beingreplaced by the latter.

We cannot believe that the people of thiscountry struggled so long against the tyranny of

apartheid, only to have to live with the anarchyof crime.

I trust we all share the conviction that aprocess of transition will be successful only ifdemocracy, the rule of law and the principle ofa just participation in the economic develop-ment of a country by all sectors of society areunderstood, accepted and continuously imple-mented.

South Africa is considered by many observ-ers to be an example of such a country in transi-tion, on its way to become a legally consolidat-ed democracy, in which the development of aconstitutional, pluralistic state, ruled by the newlaw of the land, appears to be irreversible.

But by transforming white minority rule toblack majority government, only the founda-tions of a peaceful democratic society havebeen laid. By assisting in bringing about thisconference, KAF and the other sponsors arehoping to contribute in a meaningful way to theconsolidation of this new political dispensationin South Africa.

CONCLUSIONLet today’s conference be an example of themuch needed exchange of expertise and coop-eration between the South African government,the police services, civil society and partnerinstitutions from abroad, in assessing possiblesolutions to crime problems in Africa.

Let this conference create the opportunity formore comparative analysis and evaluation,which South Africa could use to its advantage.And finally, let this conference be our humblecontribution to the quest for peace and stabilityin this beautiful country.

I wish you all enjoyable, interesting andworthwhile deliberations.

INTRODUCTIONThis conference promises to give a fascinatinginsight into crime and policing in societiesacross the world that are now emerging fromconflict. It provides a valuable opportunity toshare experiences and to discuss future plans.

I came to South Africa as an internationalobserver to the 1994 elections. Since then Ihave followed the progress of South Africa’sown transition with great interest.

Throughout those years South Africa, alongwith the United States (US), Canada, Finlandand many other countries, has been generous inits support of our own peace process inNorthern Ireland.

Two of South Africa’s distinguished citizens,Cyril Ramaphosa and Brian Currin, are cur-rently working on particularly delicate and con-tentious issues. The eminent criminologist Pro-fessor Clifford Shearing sat on the IndependentCommission on Policing – the Patten Commis-sion – of which will be discussed below.

I was also in Johannesburg and Pretoria earli-er this year (2000) in my capacity as Ministerwith responsibility for victim’s issues inNorthern Ireland. Today, however, I am speak-ing as the United Kingdom (UK) Minister forSecurity, Policing, Criminal Justice and Prisonsin Northern Ireland.

The fact that the same minister covers bothsecurity and victim’s issues is not simply awhim on the part of government planners.

The issues of security and policing cannot beseparated from the wider political process, inwhich the suffering caused by violence has hadsuch a deep and corrosive effect.

Policing issues are therefore inextricably tied

up with the process of healing divisions andbuilding trust at a community level. Any newbeginning in policing which does not take thisinto account, however good it may be in theo-ry, is doomed to failure.

This paper will first explain briefly the politi-cal context and social pressures against which anew police service is now being forged inNorthern Ireland. Second, it will set out someof the details of that new beginning. It is proba-bly the most radical experiment in policing cur-rently being undertaken in the internationalarena.

There is a great need for dialogue betweenspecialists in politics and in security or policingmatters. This dialogue is essential if our soci-eties are to make real progress in the transitionfrom violence and conflict to deep-rootedpeace and security.

There is an overriding theme which links thetwo above-mentioned subjects, namely, theabsolute requirement for trust and mutualunderstanding in the process of remodelling apolicing service. If each side can appreciate thepain inflicted on the other by its demands inrelation to policing, then there is hope for aconstructive resolution of difficulties. Thisability to see the other side’s difficulties in asituation of conflict and division was powerful-ly demonstrated in the approach of SouthAfrica’s President Mandela to the transitionfrom apartheid in that country. If such under-standing and good will are missing, then theprocess of policing reform simply becomes anextension of the conflict, a new battlegroundfor old divisions.

In other words, we cannot expect a new

19

Politics and Policing in Northern Ireland – The Way Ahead

Adam Ingram

20

Ingram

police service to solve problems which we havenot yet resolved in other areas of society. Norcan we expect that a peace process will delivera crime-free society.

We can, however, hope that a new beginningin policing will become an engine, a drivingforce for change which will speed up theprocess of transformation across society.

1. POLITICAL CONTEXTA brief explanation of the political backgroundagainst which successive British governmentshave worked to prepare these new structures forpolicing, may be helpful.

Northern Ireland has a population of around1.5 million. Roughly 60% are Protestants,almost all of whom are committed to keepingNorthern Ireland within the UK. Around 40%are Catholics, most of whom wish to seeNorthern Ireland leave the UK and join theRepublic of Ireland. These completely rationalyet diametrically opposed positions lie at theheart of the Northern Ireland problem.

The history of conflict between the two com-munities dates back centuries. The governmentrecognises that Britain too has been a partici-pant, not simply an observer, in this relation-ship. In recent years, however, the policy ofsuccessive governments has been based on therecognition that an enduring solution toNorthern Ireland’s problems can only comeabout if institutions can be created that respectthe majority, while not alienating or discrimi-nating against the minority.

Over the past 30 years there have beennumerous attempts to achieve this. Some hadlimited success and informed the next step for-ward. But governments saw that only if theseinstitutions were accepted as legitimate acrossthe whole community, would all excuses forusing violence be removed.

One of the keys to achieving this camethrough the determination of the two sovereigngovernments – the UK and Ireland – to try andforge a joint approach.

This was embodied in the Anglo-IrishAgreement of 1985, which committed bothgovernments to the principle that the constitu-tional status of Northern Ireland could onlychange with the consent of the majority of itspeople. From this building block came multi-party talks which focused on three sets of polit-ical relationships: those within Northern

Ireland; those between Northern Ireland and theRepublic of Ireland – and those between theBritish and Irish governments.

Although groundbreaking, these talks did notinclude parties which had not established acommitment to constitutional politics. SinnFéin, which represented the republican move-ment, was therefore not yet at the negotiatingtable.

There followed a further landmark in the1993 Downing Street Declaration, when theBritish and Irish prime ministers charted a wayforward for those democratically elected organ-isations that were prepared to commit them-selves exclusively to the democratic processand to turn their backs on violence.

As a result, Sinn Féin (the political represen-tatives of the Irish Republican Army [IRA] andthe republican movement), and the UDP andPUP (two parties linked to Protestant loyalistparamilitaries) joined the process. Ten monthsafter that declaration, the IRA announced acomplete cessation of all military activities; theloyalist paramilitaries declared a similar cease-fire six weeks later.

2. THE GOOD FRIDAY AGREEMENT (GFA)When the Labour Government came to powerin the UK in May 1997, it stated its firm inten-tion that inclusive negotiations should begin inSeptember 1997, with a view to reaching a con-clusion by May 1998. The final outcome wouldthen be put to the people of Ireland, North andSouth, in separate but concurrent referendums.The Agreement reached on Good Friday(GFA), 10 April 1998, was a phenomenalachievement for all involved.

Skimming through the history of politicaldevelopments may make them sound easy, butwe should remember, particularly in the contextof policing, the depth of bitterness betweenmany of the participants in the talks. The lega-cy of violence was such that some politicianswho signed up to the Agreement had not spo-ken directly to their counterparts in some of theother parties and could barely bring themselvesto be in the same room.

3. WHAT THE AGREEMENT ACHIEVEDThis made the substance of the GFA all themore remarkable. Its achievements were as fol-lows:• It set out arrangements for a devolved power-

21

Ingram

sharing assembly and executive, a truly localadministration to replace direct rule fromWestminster.

• It made provision for closer cooperationbetween Northern Ireland and the IrishRepublic and between the UK and theRepublic.

• It laid the foundations for new arrangementsin policing, criminal justice, security andequality.

• Crucially, it was founded on the principle ofconsent – the right of the people of NorthernIreland to self-determination.

• It acknowledged the legitimacy of Britishsovereignty in Northern Ireland for as long asit remained the wish of a majority of its peo-ple.

• At the same time, the agreement recognisedthe right of a substantial section of the peopleof Northern Ireland to pursue legitimately thegoal of a united Ireland, so long as theirmethods were peaceful.

• It injected a maturity into political debate.Free from the threat of terrorism, democratscould accept that the aspirations of the otherside were as firmly held as ever, but wouldno longer be imposed by violence. Withoutthis recognition, any lasting peace wouldhave been impossible.

But the GFA also contained much that waspainful for each side. Perhaps the most difficultissue was the early release scheme for paramili-tary prisoners. For victims to see their attackersor the killers of their loved ones at liberty intheir own communities remains a source of realsuffering.

Even at the most difficult times, however, thegovernment has returned to the fact that theGFA received the endorsement of the vastmajority of the people of Ireland. Over 70% inNorthern Ireland voted in favour and over 94%in the Republic.

The Agreement therefore belongs to the peo-ple of Ireland.

4. THE SITUATION TODAYTwo fundamental parts of the Agreement sub-sequently threatened to destroy the whole edi-fice: namely the establishment of devolvedgovernment and the decommissioning of terror-ist weapons.

Lengthy talks reached an impasse in July1999 and Senator George Mitchell, who played

such an important part in the process from itsvery beginning, agreed to return to Belfast as afacilitator in a review of the Agreement. It wasduring these intensive talks that SenatorMitchell was reported to have said that “trustcrept in”. Unionists agreed to establish power-sharing institutions in the expectation of rapidprogress on decommissioning.

On 2 December 1999, devolved governmentreturned to Northern Ireland for the first time in30 years. The assembly quickly got down tobusiness and the new ministers, drawn from allmajor parties, approached their new roles withenthusiasm and energy. The government, how-ever, had made it clear that if either sidedefaulted, whether on the establishment of theadministration or the decommissioning ofweapons, it would take the necessary action.Without progress on decommissioning, thepolitical position of the Ulster Unionist Partybecame untenable and the institutions them-selves were threatened.

It was therefore with a heavy heart that theSecretary of State, Peter Mandelson, took thedecision to suspend the operation of the assem-bly and the executive on 11 February 2000.

There was intense disappointment, particular-ly in the nationalist community. But eventshave shown beyond doubt that this was theright decision. Intensive discussions betweenthe two governments and political parties led tofurther statements on the implementation ofremaining aspects of the GFA. The govern-ments called on the paramilitary groups torespond positively. The following day, the IRAissued a statement promising an early confi-dence-building measure and a commitment to aprocess which would result in their arms beingplaced “completely and verifiably” beyond use.

In light of political events in Northern Irelandand Irish republicanism, this was an incrediblydramatic statement.

The Ulster Unionist Party found itself able toresume government in response to this state-ment and the institutions were set back to workat the end of May. A month later it was con-firmed that the two independent inspectors,President Ahtisaari of Finland and CyrilRamaphosa, had successfully carried out theirfirst inspection of a number of IRA armsdumps.

This important development has raised confi-dence in the future of the restored institutions

22

Ingram

and in the prospects of decommissioning. Forthe first time the public now has words anddeeds to illustrate the IRA’s good intentions.

5. THE BIGGER PICTUREThis whistle-stop history of the GFA tends toobscure the passions and crises which charac-terised the process. It perhaps also masks thereal potential for further difficulties. But it isalso important for us to be forced to see the big-ger picture.

Looking at the Northern Ireland process fromSouth Africa enables me to see the reality –almost incredible a few years ago – of a power-sharing government which will resume worknext week. Also, an IRA statement on itsweaponry which many said simply could nothappen.

I am extremely hopeful that the people ofNorthern Ireland are beginning to see and feelthe benefits of internal political stability justlike the people of South Africa. Here there is acommitment to achieving a multiracial, multi-cultural, multifaith society. That broadly encap-sulates what the government has tried toachieve in Northern Ireland – a political settle-ment which values and cherishes diversity offaith, culture and political aspirations.

6. SECURITYFor many people in Northern Ireland, the earli-est and most tangible dividend to flow from theGFA was the reduction in security measures. Avisitor returning now after 10 years away fromNorthern Ireland would hardly recognise theatmosphere. The paramilitary ceasefires and thereduced terrorist threat have allowed the ChiefConstable to implement far-reaching reductionsin security.

The process of normalisation is well underway, with troop levels at their lowest since1970. A large number of military bases havebeen demolished or closed and all crossborderroads between Northern Ireland and theRepublic have been reopened. Although partiesmay argue over the speed of this normalisationof security measures, the issue itself is relative-ly uncontroversial.

The same cannot be said of policing.

7. POLICING IN THE GFAIndeed, the GFA acknowledged the central andhighly emotive nature of the policing issue,

while at the same time handing it over to anindependent commission.

That willingness to let a third party tackle theproblem is itself an indication of howintractable and politically sensitive it was.

But the participants in the Agreement alsosaw that it provides an opportunity for a newbeginning, with a police service capable ofattracting and sustaining support from the com-munity as a whole.

The Agreement laid out principles for apolicing service which would be:• professional, effective and efficient• accountable in law and to the community it

serves• able to work in constructive and inclusive

partnership with the community at all levels• rooted in the protection of human rights and

professional integrity• fair and impartial and free from party politi-

cal control• representative of the make-up of the commu-

nity as a whole.These principles have informed our approachthroughout. At their heart lies the determinationto give ownership of the police service to thewhole community, where previously the RoyalUlster Constabulary (RUC) tended to be identi-fied with one section of the community.

8. THE PATTEN REPORTWithin weeks of the GFA, the government hadappointed Chris Patten, former Governor ofHong Kong, to chair a commission of indepen-dent experts on policing. After extensive con-sultation over 15 months with political andcommunity representatives, police experts andliterally thousands of ordinary members of thepublic and numerous study visits – including toSouth Africa – the Patten commissionersreported in September 1999.

The report, which set out some 175 recom-mendations for sweeping structural change, waswelcomed by the British and Irish governmentsand by the main nationalist party, the SDLP, inNorthern Ireland. Of course, for some, thesmallest change was a threat. For others, eventhe most radical transformation was notenough.

9. IMPLEMENTATIONThe government consulted widely on the reportand announced that it would implement the rec-

23

Ingram

ommendations in full. But the report had to betranslated into legislation, a process whichPatten acknowledged would be a complex taskinvolving fine judgements and interpretationsof some of the report’s more general recom-mendations.

This legislation is currently being processedthrough parliament and will come into effectlater this year (2000).

The bill, and the implementation plan whichhas already been published, show that the gov-ernment has accepted all but six of the 175 rec-ommendations and of those six, two have beenpartly accepted and the other four are currentlythe subject of further consideration.

As Tom Constantine, former head of the USDrugs Enforcement Administration who hasbeen appointed to independently oversee theimplementation of change, has said, the reformsproposed are the most radical seen anywhere.

10. THE NEW BEGINNINGWe turn now to the key points of the newbeginning, a vision of a new police serviceshared by Patten and the government.“Ownership” of the police service by the wholecommunity was central to Patten’s thinking. Inpractical terms this translated into a radicalemphasis on accountability, representation andhuman rights.

11. POLICING BOARDThe cornerstone of the Patten Report’s account-ability structures is the proposed policingboard, independent of government, with thespecific legal duty of holding the police serviceto account for its actions and performance. Thenew legislation will set up the 19 memberboard, a majority of whom – 10 in all – will bedrawn from representatives to the NorthernIreland assembly in proportion to their electedpolitical strength. The remaining independentmembers will be reflective of wider communityinterests, allowing them to have a voice in howpolicing is delivered.

The new board will be given powers ofaccountability and oversight unique to the UKor the Republic of Ireland.

It will monitor the performance of the policeon human rights and many other areas. It willappoint the head of the police service, the ChiefConstable, and other senior officers and act astheir disciplinary authority. It will set the bud-

get and take a central role in the strategic direc-tion of policing, setting objectives, prioritiesand targets and measuring police performanceagainst a published policing plan.

Importantly, operational control and directionof the police will remain in the Chief Con-stable’s hands. In short, the Chief Constablewill be in charge of service delivery and theboard will regulate the service provided in apublicly accountable way. The board will haveexceptional powers to call for reports from thepolice and to launch inquiries into matterswhich are of grave concern. Again, these pow-ers are unique in the UK or Ireland, and per-haps anywhere.

12. DISTRICT POLICING PARTNERSHIPSThis emphasis on accountability will be carriedthrough to local level by the creation of districtpolicing partnerships. They will provide a cru-cial link between the community and theirpolice service. Membership of these bodies willbe made up of local authority elected membersand independent members appointed by thepolicing board to ensure that the partnershipsare widely representative of the community.

The new beginning in policing is about mak-ing sure as many people as possible will playtheir part in the new policing structures, and seepolicing as being part of their community, nothostile to it.

13. OMBUDSMANTo provide further reassurance of the integrityof the new service, the government has alreadyenacted legislation to create a police ombuds-man whose task will be to investigate com-plaints against the police. This new complaintssystem in Northern Ireland is, we think, withoutcompare.

It provides the ombudsman with completecontrol and independence from both governmentand the police service. Crucially, it involvesinvestigation not by the police service, but by theombudsman’s own staff who have been givenpowers of police officers for the purpose.

Far from feeling threatened by this newoffice, the police themselves have welcomed itbecause they can no longer be accused of par-tiality in investigating such complaints.

14. HUMAN RIGHTSThe process of building public confidence and

24

Ingram

trust, of which the ombudsman is an importantelement, is further enhanced by a new emphasison human rights. Indeed, the Patten Report con-cluded that the fundamental job of the policewas to protect human rights.

The Chief Constable and the new policingboard together will be responsible for full com-pliance with human rights requirements. Newofficers will be required to take a new humanrights-based oath. All officers will receivehuman rights training, and will be required tobehave in accordance with a new code ofethics. A new Human Rights Act will comeinto force in October, guaranteeing fundamen-tal rights and freedoms throughout the UK.

15. COMPOSITIONPatten recognised, however, that new structuresand accountability might not in themselves besufficient to redress the balance of representa-tion in the police service. As mentioned before,40% of Northern Ireland’s population isCatholic, yet only eight per cent of RUC offi-cers have been drawn from the Catholic com-munity. There are many complex reasons forthis, from outright terrorist intimidation to a tra-ditional alienation from the police in the Cath-olic/nationalist community.

Patten’s radical solution requires the recruit-ment of an equal number of Protestants andCatholics, from a pool of candidates all ofwhom, will have qualified on merit.

The report envisaged that these measureswould lead to a more representative police ser-vice within 10 years.

This is an ambitious programme: it took theNew York Police Department (NYPD) 25 yearsto move from 12% of ethnic minority officersin 1974 to 33% in 1999.

The government has embarked on this pro-gramme in the face of severe criticism that itamounts to positive discrimination. But thegovernment believes, with Patten, that theseextreme measures are essential to achieve thenecessary balance and community representa-tion in the new service.

Of course, what is really needed is the sup-port of the whole community in NorthernIreland to achieve a transformation in the com-position of the police.

16. OVERSIGHT COMMISSIONERThere are many other sweeping reforms which

are no less radical for being uncontroversial.The police service will undergo a transforma-tion in management structures, informationtechnology capability and training, indeed inevery aspect of police activity.

Finally, to bolster this vast programme ofchange, and as an important confidence build-ing measure, the Patten Report recommendedthat an eminent person, from a country otherthan the UK or Ireland, should be appointed asan oversight commissioner to supervise theimplementation of the new approach to polic-ing. Tom Constantine, former Head of theDrugs Enforcement Administration in the USand former Chief of Police for New York State,has already taken up this post. He will monitorand comment publicly on the progress ofchange. Once again a groundbreaking conceptin policing reform, building confidence in theprocess of change.

17. EMOTIVE ISSUESGiven the scale of these changes, it is surpris-ing to learn that none of them have generated asmuch pain and raw emotion as the issue of thename to be given to the new police service.Symbolic issues are hugely significant inNorthern Ireland. How they are used is ofteninterpreted as defeat or victory by one commu-nity or the other.

In the case of the RUC, many in the unionistcommunity were deeply hurt by the PattenCommission’s recommendation that this nameshould be replaced. They saw it as a criticismof the past record of the RUC, an insult to theterrible sacrifices made in the fight against ter-rorism. The government recognises the paincaused by this issue and utterly rejects anyimplied criticism of the remarkable servicegiven by RUC officers over the past 30 years.

Patten’s argument, however, that a new namewas essential to achieve a new beginning is inthe end, persuasive. If this goal could beachieved without changing the name then itwould not be changed. But that is not possible.

The government has therefore determinedthat the new name will be the Police Service ofNorthern Ireland.

CONCLUSIONThe government understands the desire of thosenationalists who want to see a break with thepast. Equally, it understands the emotional

25

Ingram

attachment many people have to the existingname, symbols and emblems of the RUC.

The Patten Commission took a middle linebetween these two positions. It argued that theRUC should not be disbanded and that thereshould be no complete break with the past. Atthe same time, as mentioned above, it stressedthe need for a new beginning – a fresh start. Inshort, the commission recognised, in the wordsof Chris Patten himself, that there are two his-tories in Northern Ireland and two experiencesof policing. Each has legitimacy and each con-tains real pain and suffering.

This brings us back to the opening theme: thewill to see the problem from the perspective ofthe other is an absolute prerequisite to progress.Unless the leaders of both communities under-stand the pain and difficulties created for theircounterparts by their own demands on policing,the most difficult issues cannot be resolved.

It is, after all, this ability that paves the wayfor constructive compromise. And, of course, itapplies to the wider political and social processas much as to policing.

One of the ironies of the conflict in NorthernIreland is that it has bred some of the greatestpoets of the past 50 years, including the Nobellaureate Seamus Heaney.

The father of that movement of poets, LouisMacNeice, once wrote:

“And I envy the intransigence of my ownCountrymen who shoot to kill and neverSee the victim’s face become their own Or find his motive sabotage their motives.”

Some 60 years later we are moving beyond the

violence. But in too many cases mindsets haveyet to develop beyond the period of conflict.

The process of understanding one’s ownmotives and the motives of others is still at anearly stage. It may take generations. For thoseof us involved in the policing debate, this is aninevitable frustration. The logjams on policingreflect the logjams in society, in politics and inthe minds of individuals. But neither can weafford to wait.

Indeed, policing is so central to any societythat driving forward change in this area willcertainly send ripples across society. Policingcan become an engine of reconciliation andhealing. It can help trust to creep in. That iswhy policing is so important and that is whythe government is implementing the radicalmeasures of the Patten Report, some of whichare described above.

It will not be easy, but the prize to be gainedis the greatest prize of all: a society at ease withitself, a society equipped to face the real chal-lenges of criminality and social cohesion whichother “normal” societies are facing in the 21stcentury.

With commitment, determination, and aboveall the will to understand others, we canachieve it and build a better future for thepolice and for the society they serve.

That, I trust, is an ambition we share withSouth Africans. We continue to watch yourprogress with interest and admiration. Weknow we can rely on your good wishes andcontinued support as we pursue the same goalin Northern Ireland.

INTRODUCTIONThis conference is honoured to have as aspeaker the Minister of State for NorthernIreland, Adam Ingram. While we are aware ofthe significant differences between SouthAfrica and Northern Ireland, we have notedthat both the Patten Commission on a newbeginning for policing in Northern Ireland andthe Criminal Justice Review which visitedSouth Africa, drew on some of our own experi-ences in reaching their conclusions.

1. COMMON ISSUES AND COMPARATIVERESEARCHPolice transformation and crime control havebeen key focus issues during the past few yearsin South Africa. The immediate aftermath ofapartheid resulted in high levels of crime and apolice agency not immediately able to counterthe problem.

This experience is consistent with a numberof other societies that have also been burdenedby high levels of crime during periods of politi-cal transition or dramatic economic and socialchange.

These similarities highlight the importance ofthis initiative by the South African Institute ofInternational Affairs to begin a process of com-parative research aimed at drawing lessonsfrom societies in transition. It is hoped that thisconference, which is only the beginning of alonger term project, continues to draw togetherexpertise from across the developing world.

South Africa tends to seek solutions too oftenfrom countries in Europe and North America.While this approach is important, these soci-eties do not experience the same conditions,

social inequalities or history of authoritarian-ism as we do. There is much to learn from ourown experiences and much that we can teacheach other.

South Africa has taken some important stepstowards fighting crime. We recognise that thereis still much work to be done, but we remaincommitted to ending the scourge of lawlessnessin our communities, thereby ensuring safety forall our citizens. We have learnt much, but thereis still much to learn.

2. KEY LESSONSFour key lessons can be drawn from SouthAfrica’s experience in this regard. Theselessons relate to the issue of police legitimacy,the need to focus on specific priorities, the roleof politicians and the necessity for regionalaction to counter crime. The following com-ments are by no means comprehensive, butmay provide some initial observations whichcould be expanded upon during the course ofthe conference.

Firstly, it is often stated that the problemwith policing in South Africa is one of legiti-macy. The police are not accepted by all citi-zens as the enforcers of law and order. Whilethis may be true, experience suggests that theissue should be examined further. It is not suf-ficient to simply urge citizens to accept thepolice as their own. Rather, in the new democ-racy, citizens expect the police to earn theirlegitimacy.

This can only be achieved through improvedlevels of service delivery and more effectiveoperations. In particular, service delivery atlocal station level can be greatly improved. In

27

South Africa: Crime and Policing in Transition

Steve Tshwete

28

Tshwete

my tenure as Minister I have, and will continueto, visit police stations (often unannounced)when it comes to my attention that service isbelow acceptable levels. Improving levels ofservice delivery is therefore a key public confi-dence-building measure in societies where thepolice have in the past been repressive and prej-udiced.

Secondly, and closely related to my initialpoint, is the necessity for focusing on keyissues in a time of rapid change. One problemof police transformation within the SouthAfrican context is that there always seems to beso many issues to deal with simultaneously.There is a real danger that too many prioritiesare set, which in the end becomes meaningless.In the past two years the police have activelyconcentrated on some of the key areas of polic-ing. I have already mentioned service delivery,but we have, in addition, sought of late to con-centrate our efforts on those areas where themajority of crime occurs. By focusing on theseareas, it hoped that the national level of seriouscrime will be reduced. Greater focus is alsorequired on improving intelligence collection aswell as our ability to analyse and understandthe extent of crime in some areas so that we canact effectively against it.

Thirdly, it is my own belief that politicians,at all levels of society, have an important roleto play in consistently condemning the actionsof criminals and supporting the police. Giventhe history of this and other countries, criminalsare often seen as heroes and role models – peo-ple who have gained wealth quickly withoutundue effort.

It is the duty of leaders in our society to con-sistently condemn these practices and todemonstrate that, not only are these actionswrong, but that they are damaging to society as

a whole. This aspect is often not sufficientlyexamined when considering the nature of divid-ed or transitional societies with a history ofconflict. I therefore urge the participants at thisconference not only to examine detailed issuesof anti-crime policy, but also the role thatpoliticians play in managing this process andpromoting the message that crime does not, andcannot, pay.

Finally, I wish to suggest that the majority oftransitional societies, be they in Southern orWest Africa, Latin America or Eastern Europe,are not in any way immune from ongoingdevelopments in their regions. In particular,organised crime does not respect state borders,nor do organised criminals linger about to beprosecuted by one set of law enforcementauthorities when they can find a safe havenelsewhere. In the longer term, more emphasiswill therefore have to be placed on buildingstronger regional police cooperation. InSouthern Africa, significant progress has beenmade in this regard. We will also continue, inpartnership with our neighbours, to focus onthis area in the longer term.

CONCLUSIONPolicing in post-authoritarian and divided soci-eties is not only a hotly debated issue, but onethat is essential to ensure the long-term stabilityof democratic and peaceful governance. InNorthern Ireland, for example, the outcome ofthe debate concerning the police seems to be acritical component of the peace process as awhole. While the societies we are all drawnfrom may be very different, it remains clearthat many of the problems, as well as the solu-tions, are similar. By combining our energieswe stand a greater chance of reducing crimeand ensuring safety for our citizens.

INTRODUCTIONI am honoured and privileged to be part of thisdistinguished gathering of experts in safety andsecurity, who have been brought together toshare our experiences on the theme of Crime

and Policing in Transitional Societies.The country I represent, Nigeria, is today

undergoing a fundamental and dramatic changehaving recently emerged from autocratic mili-tary rule on 29 May 1999. The police as aninstitution is not left out of this process. In spiteof our untiring efforts to create a peaceful andcrime-free society, the issue of crime, as is thecase in most societies – still poses a seriouschallenge to us. In view of this, I believe thetheme and timing of this conference could nothave been more relevant to my country.

1. THE GENESIS OF VIOLENT CRIME IN NIGERIAPolicing is a universal concept. Consequently,the statutory responsibilities of any police forcethe world over are basically the same. Thesehave to do with the maintenance of law andorder, so that citizens can go about their lawfulduties without let or hindrance.

Again, taking a cue from Nigeria, section 4of the Police Act, CAP 359 Laws of theFederation of Nigeria 1990, clearly spells outthe responsibilities of the Nigerian Police Force(NPF) as follows:

“The police shall be employed for the pre-vention and detection of crime, the appre-hension of offenders, the preservation oflaw and order, the protection of life andproperty and the due enforcement of alllaws and regulations with which they aredirectly charged, and shall perform such

military duties within or without Nigeria asmay be required by them by, or under theauthority of, this or any other Act.”

At independence in 1960, the NPF was small insize, well trained, disciplined and equipped. Itwas also well focused, effective and efficient,as a result of which it was highly respected bythe public it served. It also earned internationalrecognition having creditably discharged itsresponsibilities in international peace-keepingoperations. Although it was regarded as a Force– considering the nature of the training as wellas the democratic structure and environment ofthe police institution at the time – it could notbut go about the discharge of its constitutionalresponsibilities in a highly civilised mannerdevoid of force. It was no surprise, therefore,that at the cessation of hostilities in the Congo,the NPF was invited to help in the training ofthe Congolese Police.

In 1966, Nigeria underwent a sudden changein government following the overthrow by themilitary of the then civil democratic adminis-tration. This led to a gradual but steady declinein the positive value for which the police wereknown. The morale of serving police officerswas badly battered and vices such as corrup-tion, indolence, greed and malpractices of vari-ous sorts crept into the police force and gradu-ally overwhelmed the institution. Public confi-dence in the police force waned as some policeofficers became involved in heinous crimessuch as arson, robbery and assassinations.

Before the advent of the military in politics,policing in Nigeria was not much of a chal-lenge in terms of crimes. Most of the offencesrecorded were of a minor nature. These includ-

29

The Nigerian Experience

David Jemibewon

30

Jemibewon

ed offences such as petty stealing, assaults andother lesser crimes, although occasional mur-ders and burglaries were recorded. Violentcrimes – particularly those perpetrated withfirearms – were generally unheard of. However,this scenario changed for the worse afterNigeria fought a civil war that lasted from 1967to 1970. During that period, the country beganexperiencing armed robberies, and this necessi-tated the constitution of special tribunals to trysuch cases, which then attracted the deathpenalty by firing squad for those found guilty.By the end of the war, some firearms ended upin the wrong hands. This was the genesis ofviolent crime in Nigeria.

The military’s incursion into politics, and theresulting civil war, therefore led to a downwardand degenerating spiral of crimes and violence,as well as the entrenchment of a culture of vio-lence. The military had been in power foralmost 30 of Nigeria’s 40 years of indepen-dence. During that period, military rule affectedevery stratum of society and penetrated the psy-che of the people.

By profession, the military are trained in vio-lence and this progressively permeated theirapproach to governance. Thus any “offending”provisions of the constitution – such as that out-lawing military coups – were suspended.Obnoxious decrees such as the State Securityand Detention of Persons Decree, under whichpersons could be detained indefinitely andwithout trial, were promulgated. The rights ofthe citizenry were subordinated, opposition togovernment was steadfastly crushed and almostobliterated and the basic human rights of indi-viduals were not only ignored, but abused. Thejudiciary cowed and, needless to say, the dueprocess of law was thrown overboard.

2. TRANSITION AND ASSOCIATED PROBLEMSTransition from autocratic rule to democraticgovernment in Nigeria brought with it severalchanges and problems associated with manag-ing change. Ordinarily, managing change evenin a normal situation is no easy task. This ispartly due to the uncertainty that is often associ-ated with change and because – as observed byPeter Blau and W. Scott in their book Formal

organisation: a comparative approach –“change, whether due to new external develop-ments impinging on the organisation or to inter-nal modifications, produces situations without

established precedents. Besides, some exigen-cies that may arise cannot be anticipated”.

As should be expected there were those whowanted and fought for change, but there werealso those who probably would have preferredthe status quo and those who remained apatheticand therefore indifferent to change, not knowinghow they would fare under the new system.

The sudden change – which the transitionfrom the long years of military rule to a democ-ratic dispensation brought on the country – wastherefore monumental, and managing it wasdaunting. Virtually every institution had toundergo a learning process, having been mili-tarised previously and having no standard tofall back on due to the absence of a constitu-tional democratic culture and the lack of demo-cratic institutional structures.

The Nigerian police force that was inheritedcould be said to have suffered gravely from alack of such regulatory institutions and a lackof focus. The police force was deprived of vitalequipment and other logistics support needed toperform its functions effectively. Training wasat its lowest ebb, while recruitment was haltedfor almost six years. Within the same period,the public grew apprehensive and almost lostconfidence in the ability of the police to dis-charge its statutory functions.

Yet to ensure a viable, strong and effectiveconstitutional government that could attract andstimulate domestic and foreign investments inthe economy, an effective and modern policeforce is required to assist in crime detection andin the enforcement of the law. It was obviousthat an articulate and conscientious plan ofaction directed at overhauling the existing sys-tem of policing was urgently needed to redeemthe situation, with a view to re-establishing pub-lic confidence in the police institution, as wellas helping the police to understand and appreci-ate its pivotal role in a democratic dispensation.

When Nigeria eventually shifted from auto-cratic military rule to democratic rule on 29May 1999, Nigerians heaved a collective sighof relief, so to speak, at the development as itguaranteed them the full exercise of their fun-damental human rights. Regrettably, our new-found democracy has, to some extent, become asource of insecurity and lawlessness, as theserights were misconstrued and exercised withoutrestraint. The past year under this administra-tion has therefore seen an increase in crime

31

Jemibewon

waves in various parts of the country.Viewswhich were considered anti-government andhitherto suppressed out of fear under the mili-tary, were now freely expressed and often timesviolently too.

Militant groups that were agitating for onething or another, often armed, sprang up insome parts of the country.The police force –which was not adequately prepared for the vio-lent and criminal eruptions that heraldedNigeria’s democratic rebirth – was thereforestretched to its maximum.

The weaknesses and inadequacies of the NPFin coping with its statutory responsibilities ofmaintaining law and order were aggravated bythe systematic neglect and impoverishment ofthe force by successive military regimes. Also,the prolonged years of military rule had drasti-cally affected and changed the hitherto civildisposition and orientation of the police to theirduties. This, in itself, has been a major problemfor policing in transition. It is, however, gratify-ing to note that we have embarked on a pro-gramme of national rebirth, re-orientation andretraining of the police force in line with demo-cratic dictates and ideals.

3. REASONS FOR ESCALATIONThe reasons for the increase in crime and vio-lence can, to a great extent, be attributed to theemergence of democracy, which most peoplesee as an opportunity to release their hithertopent-up frustrations and feelings of dissatisfac-tion with the misdeeds of past military adminis-trations. This reaffirms the view of SouthAfrican Minister for Safety and Security, SteveTshwete, that democracy can, and does, createopportunities for criminals. Tshwete hasobserved that the nature and magnitude ofcrime in South Africa has changed since 1994,when that country became “independent”. Thisview was informed by the observed crime trendin that country. The police have had to dealwith organised crimes, drug rings, fraud andother crime syndicates that were unheard ofprior to the advent of democracy.

I would like to add here that Tshwete’sobservation on the relationship between crimeand democracy is more true in democratic soci-eties undergoing transition, such as Nigeria,which has in recent times witnessed an increasein police activities geared towards bringing thecrime situations under control.

South Africa, like Nigeria, seems to havemore than its fair share of violent crime, as canbe gleaned from the Internet, print and electron-ic media. Through these media, we have heardof armed men and gangs killing police officers,shooting innocent persons and generally creat-ing havoc, leading to uncertainty and insecurity.

In any democratic setting, policing is general-ly fraught with problems for law enforcementagencies, as the citizenry is usually aware andoften insist on their rights. Nigeria is no excep-tion. It is highly likely that many of the coun-tries represented at this conference have similaror identical problems, and it is hoped that solu-tions to these problems will be discussed here.

4. SOLUTIONS OFFERED TO CHECKING CRIMEIn the short-term, a number of strategies havebeen put in place in Nigeria with the aim ofchecking crime. These include motorised andmotorcycle patrols, anti-crime patrols, stop-and-search operations involving the randomsearch of suspect vehicles and persons, intensi-fication of aerial patrol and surveillance, pre-emptive raids on suspected criminal hide-outsand black spots and increased criminal intelli-gence gathering by the Criminal IntelligenceBureau (CIB) and the Criminal InvestigationDepartment (CID). The increased highwaypatrol activities have, for example, led to adrastic reduction in highway robberies in thecountry. Pre-emptive raids of suspected crimi-nal hide-outs have resulted in a significantdecrease in crime in the satellite towns ofLagos and Abuja, while the use of observationtents and posts in strategic locations has greatlyassisted in bringing down crime in the cities. Inaddition to these measures, the police force isclosely monitoring the activities of registeredvigilante groups nationwide to ensure their fullcompliance with statutory rules and regulations.

The Ministry has had to initiate plans aimedat revitalising the NPF and has continued topursue the implementation of these plans.

This includes improving the NPF’s image, re-orientation, modernisation of the police forcethrough re-structuring, re-equipping and theprovision of logistics support, beefing up thestrength of the police force as well as introduc-ing better welfare packages. We have also hada series of discussions with donor countries andorganisations, with the view to gaining assis-tance in the areas of manpower development

32

Jemibewon

and logistics support. This is considered neces-sary because of the:• growing trends in international crime, includ-

ing drug and transborder crimes• breakthroughs in information technology that

have unfortunately impacted negatively onthe internationalisation of crime

• enormous financial resources required foreffective policing of the country

• belief that a blend of foreign expertise andlocal training is needed to provide a multi-dimensional approach to the training of aneffective, modern police force, which will actas a bridge between the present and ourfuture dream of a force that is a potent anti-dote to all forms of crime.

In order to rebuild confidence in the public andto enhance greater security and protection oflife and property, we have established a specialpolice vehicular patrol in Lagos and Abuja,where violent crimes were daily on theincrease. Funds were obtained for the effectivepolicing of the cities in this pilot project. Patrolcars purchased and equipped for the projectwere deployed, along with motorcyclesequipped with communication equipment. Thesuccess achieved in checking the crime situa-tion in Lagos and Abuja has today restoredpublic confidence in the police.

Also, a case was made to re-organise the NPFfrom an eight-zone to a 12-zone structure,thereby enhancing command and control offorce. The Nigerian President has recentlyapproved this recommendation, and measuresare being taken to implement the 12-zone struc-ture. It is hoped that its full implementation willgo a long way to improving the effectiveness ofthe NPF.

5. RECOGNISING LOCAL CONDITIONSThere is a tendency for countries in transition,including Nigeria, to compare the performanceof their police forces with those of advanced ordeveloped countries that have sophisticatedsystems of law enforcement. This approach isproblematic. Critics also go so far as to proffersolutions to perceived problems from suchadvanced countries as Britain, France and theUnited States, without considering theresources available to the police in lesser devel-oped countries, the socio-cultural backgroundas well as the advancements made in thesecountries in terms of science and technology.

A comparison of policing in these societieswithout due cognisance of the constraints facedby each, cannot but produce an unreliableresult. This error could also account for the fail-ure often encountered in fully applying solu-tions derived from such developed economiesto societies in transition. It is a known fact thatthe history of a people, their cultural and politi-cal background as well as economic develop-ment, impact greatly on crime, its nature andprevalence. It is also true that policing is a cost-ly venture requiring huge financial outlays,which most African countries undergoing tran-sition cannot easily afford.

Considering all the above, we believe thatwhile all efforts should be made to providemore logistics support and training to improvepolice performance, solutions to the problem ofcrime and policing in societies undergoing tran-sitions cannot be found in stable democraticsocieties wholesale. This is because the rootcauses and the nature of crime, as well as exist-ing institutions for crime prevention and prob-lem resolution, differ from society to societyand especially between transitional societiesand advanced stable societies. There is there-fore a need for a comparative analysis acrosstransitional and developing societies, to benefitfrom lessons learnt.

It such be noted that in this regard, Nigeriaand South Africa – two countries which areconsidered to be going through transition –have been comparing notes with a view tolearning from each other.

CONCLUSIONThere is no doubt that the constraints to crimeand policing in transitional societies are many,but with determination, efficient planning andprudent execution of programmes, they are sur-mountable. Nevertheless, managing and trans-forming a police force such as Nigeria’s –which suffered from 15 years of decadence anddeprivation under a despotic regime – to a ser-vice-oriented, modern and efficient organ ofgovernment capable of providing security for anation, remains the greatest challenge of ourtransition from military to a democratic andconstitutional government.

I hope that our shared experiences at thisconference would be mutually beneficial andwill herald the beginning of greater cooperationin policing. I wish you all fruitful deliberations.

INTRODUCTIONThe purpose of this article is to examine theremarkable development in law enforcement:the exploration of new forms of policing bycombinations of police leaders and academics.This examination focuses on three major cities– New York, Chicago and Boston – whichhave developed three different varieties of thecombination of problem-solving and newforms of relationship with neighbourhoods thatis together often called “community policing”.As a result of these immense undertakings, wehave seen a change in belief in the efficacy ofpolicing. But the changed attitudes towardspolice functions are accompanied by certainrisks.

1. THE EFFECTIVENESS OF THE NEW POLICINGI will begin by describing the weaknesses andthe strengths of the case that new forms ofpolicing have had a major effect on fear andsafety in our cities and, through that, on thequality of life for millions of people. But,wholly aside from the amount of evidence forthis belief, it exists and that in turn has changedthe attitudes toward policing of citizens andpolitical leaders alike.

It is important to look at New York, Chicago,and Boston separately, for they represent some-what different approaches based on differenttheories supported by different police leadersand scholars. Their apparent successes explainthe change in attitude towards police, but theyare not the same along the two dimensions thatmany consider most important: reduction ofcrime and disorder, on the one hand; and anincrease in trust in the police on the other.

I will describe generally the practices andtheories of policing in each of these three citiesand will provide some evidence as to what theyare doing better or worse. But then it is worthdeparting from the broad models, each ofwhich may hide too much that is important andparticular under a single tent that feels almostas copious as an ideology. We should lookmuch harder at the underlying operations. And,finally, we should consider the values affectedby, and the risks associated with, the differentforms of policing. The introduction concludeswith these subjects.

1.1 The national decline in crime

Before turning to the changes in theory andpractices of policing and their consequences,we should note the importance of the newbelief that policing can make a big differencein the amount of violent crime, property crime,and troublesome disorder. In focusing on “thebelief”, I am not trying to raise doubts aboutthe reduction in fear and the increase in safetythroughout the United States (US). There maybe some question as to the role of policing inbringing this about – questions that are nottroubling most of our politicians and citizens –but there is little doubt about the reduction infear and the increase in safety in most placesthroughout the US and particularly in two ofthe cities which we will be examining.

Figures on reported crime and surveys of cit-izens tell the same story. After a rapid increasein crime during the 1960s, there was long-termstability in the US during the following quartercentury.1 That stability included a homiciderate in the US that was three or four times as

35

The New Policing

Philip Heymann

36

Heymann

high as other western democracies.2 It was alsowidely believed that non-lethal violent crimewas far in excess of comparably advancedcountries.

Within this long-term trend, something dra-matic first happened in the mid-1980s when theamount of youth violence, particularly killing,shot up dramatically, while violence by thoseover 25 was declining. In the early1990s thedirection of change reversed and for the rest ofthe 20th century, crime, including violentcrime, declined radically to levels we had notseen since the 1960s.3 The trend has continuedinto the current year, although some majorcities, including Boston, experienced an omi-nous spike in the first few months of 2000.4

Between 1993 and 1998, property crimesdeclined in the US by 32%, and violent crimesby 27%. The decline has been spectacular withregard to such non-violent crimes as motorvehicle theft or ordinary thefts of less than $50.Moreover, this decline has been about equallysharp for males and females, black and white,urban, suburban and rural.5 Arrests of malesunder age 18 for violent crimes declined 26%between 1994 and 1999.6

One area of great public concern did notappear to follow this course. While the use ofillicit drugs had peaked in the late 1970s, andthe decline that followed in the mid-1980s wasreversed by an epidemic of smokable crackcocaine, there was a great decline in use in the1980s and, except for marijuana use, preva-lence of use in the population continued at arelatively low level into the 1990s.7 There is,however, little, if any, indication that the priceof illicit drugs has risen or their purity declined,nor is there any reason to think that their avail-ability has lessened. The crack cocaine epidem-ic has greatly abated; but that seems to have farmore to do with the natural course of a drugepidemic, including the growing desire ofyoung people to avoid the consequences theysee in their addicted elders, than with any suc-cess in policing, despite mammoth increases inexpenditure and in rates and duration of impris-onment since 1980.

Returning to the sudden reduction in vio-lence, particularly in lethal violence, since theearly1990s, we should note a number of conse-quences. Evidence ranging from the self-reportsof mothers and children in Boston to theimmense increase in optimism and tourism in

New York, documents the change in the qualityof life that has been brought about by reducedviolence, and perhaps also by reduced propertycrime and disorder. Cities as far away asJohannesburg, Moscow and Buenos Aires wantto learn whatever there is to learn about therelationship of new forms of policing to a won-derfully improved quality of life in manyAmerican neighbourhoods and cities.

If it really is policing that is making that dif-ference, we should be recognising that fact interms of a variety of decisions about the expen-diture of resources. Resources should be mov-ing toward police from the immense human anddollar cost of the present rush towards everlonger sentences that has made the US one ofthe world’s two leaders in percentage of popu-lation behind bars.8 At the same time, the gen-eral public may be willing to bear new personalcosts associated with intrusive policing mea-sures if the benefits are as great as they seem.In Chicago, for example, tenants of housingprojects have voted to authorise apartmentsearches without the pre--requisites of theFourth Amendment, a move rejected by a fed-eral court.9

1.2 Are the increase in safety and the reduc-

tion in fear results of the new forms of polic-

ing in the US?

The accelerating reduction in violent and othercrime beginning in the early 1990s plainlycoincided with a series of major changes inpolicing. The three cities we are examining –New York, Chicago and Boston – all begannew programmes we shall describe shortlybefore 1995. As we shall see, there are alsocommon sense and theoretical reasons tobelieve that the forms of policing have made adifference; but before awarding the credit topolicing we should recognise the claims ofother contenders to explain reduced crime.

1.2.1 Some other explanations of declining

rates of crime

There are reasons to look for alternative expla-nations. Violent and other crime is decreasingin many cities throughout the US, including incities where policing is very different fromNew York, Chicago or Boston. New York andBoston have enjoyed remarkable rates ofdecline, but so have several other cities, whichare doing quite different things.10 Moreover,

37

Heymann

changing at the same time are other thingswhich cannot be related to policing but arehighly correlated with the conditions we associ-ate with crime. Teenage pregnancy has gonedown steadily during the past six or sevenyears.11 The decline in birth rates between 1991and 1996 among black teens between the agesof 15 and 19 is particularly striking.12 Thereseems to be no obvious relationship betweenpolicing and teenage pregnancies, althoughthere has always been a close relationshipamong crime, violence, pregnancy, drug use,and other forms of social breakdown. That sug-gests that a third factor may be at work.

Several candidates seem obvious. First, thedrop in crime could be tied to the sustainedeconomic boom. Not only has poverty beendeclining for juveniles under the age of 18since 1993, but the proportion of black juve-niles (whose involvement in dangerous vio-lence as victim or perpetrator has been muchthe highest) who are living in poverty has alsobeen declining sharply during that period.13

Unemployment is at near-record lows; and by1996, 86% of young black adults were complet-ing high school.14

There are a number of other available expla-nations, besides new forms of policing, whichsupporters would claim have led to the reduc-tion of crime and the fear of crime. During thepast few years, we have seen the end of thecrack epidemic in most cities, an epidemicwhich spawned drug-selling gangs of youth andthe varieties of violent crime that we also asso-ciate with the prohibition era of the 1920s. Drugmarkets have stabilised. Dealers in stabilisedindustries do not kill each other; so dealers inillicit drugs may be particularly violent only atthe early stages of a rapidly expanding market.15

Just as the use of crack declined with the gen-erational learning from the degrading experi-ences of one’s older brothers and sisters, thesame learning – but this time about guns – mayhave happened as a result of the experience ofthe violence of the late 1980s. A very high per-centage of young people in disadvantagedneighbourhoods had friends who had beenkilled.

The efforts of people, other than the police,to deal with youth violence also played a role.Prevention efforts by committed members ofthe community, including organisations such aschurches and schools, efforts which increased

immensely in response to the burst of youthviolence, made a difference.16 Another, quiteprovocative explanation, recently advanced in aleading economics journal, is the rise oflegalised abortion some 20 years prior to thebeginning of the decline in crime rates. Indeed,the paper attributes roughly half of the decreasein crime to the government’s newfound protec-tion of the right to choose.17

Finally, there are those who would argue pas-sionately, and persuasively, that the reduction inviolent crime was traceable far less to policingand any increase in the numbers of arrests thanto legislation and the longer sentences imposedwith its consequent prolonged incapacitation ofviolent offenders. We know that a relativelysmall percentage of the people born in anygiven year are likely to commit a high percent-age of the crimes and a very high percentage ofthe violent crimes. As we lock up a higher andhigher percentage of the population for longerperiods of time, a very high percentage of thisparticularly dangerous group is imprisonedbecause they offend and risk arrest so often.This reduces the level of violence on our streets,albeit at great cost. And, somewhat less plausi-bly, believers in increased deterrence resultingfrom the perceived threat of a very long sen-tence for whoever is successfully caught andprosecuted, have argued that the reductions incrime are directly traceable to that deterrent.18

1.2.2 The case for new forms of policing as a

major cause of reduced crime

With so many other explanations, why is therereason to believe that new forms of policing areplaying a significant role in the reduction ofviolence and fear? For one thing, some of thesharpest reductions in crime have taken place inBoston and New York where the new forms ofpolicing have been most thoroughly exploredand most enthusiastically implemented. Foranother, some of the connections between thenew forms of policing and the reduction in vio-lence are so plausible that it is hard to imaginetheir not having a major effect. Finally, somefairly rigorous evaluation of recent policing tac-tics supports the hypothesis of effectiveness.

We know, for example, that the increase inyouth homicide was almost entirely attributableto homicides with guns; that there has been nosignificant increase in homicide with otherweapons.19 And the process has worked in

38

Heymann

reverse. As Professor Blumstein of CarnegieMellon University and Professor Rosenfeld ofthe University of Missouri-St. Louis havepointed out,20 the reduction in national homi-cides in the mid-1990s was very close to thereduction in the number of gun homicides, sug-gesting again that control of guns has been animportant tactic. We also know that manyhomicides take place because of quarrels andother events taking place on the streets.Policing strategies like those of New York,which greatly increase the risk of carrying agun on the street, particularly among gangs orother groups that have more frequently engagedin violence, should therefore lead to reducedhomicides with guns. In fact, those are thehomicides which have been declining rapidly.

Similarly, we have believed for centuries thatcertainty and swiftness of punishment are criti-cal to the effectiveness of deterrence. InBoston, the police are using their powers innew ways to make sure that the deterrent threatto particularly dangerous individuals is verycertain and prompt, targeted specifically on aparticular type of conduct such as violence, anddirectly communicated to those most likely touse violence. To determine who is most likelyto use violence they have analysed data fromreports or investigations and have used comput-ers to compile information available by obser-vation of associations on the street. Strategies,like those adopted in Boston, to assure thatspeed and certainty of punishment are presentand are known to those likely to engage in vio-lence, seem almost certain to reduce violence.

In both New York and Boston, creatingsocial control and, relatedly, reducing fear,have been accomplished by using the powers ofthe police to take back the street from gangs.The Department of Justice’s Office of JuvenileJustice and Delinquency Prevention estimatesthat, in 1996, almost 3000 homicides in largecities and suburban counties were attributed togang members.21 Reducing the apparent streetpower of gangs competing for status, turf ordrug profits seems likely to reduce gang homi-cides. For all these reasons the importance ofnew policing to reduced violence seems highlyplausible; indeed, likely.

1.2.3 A closer look at what we know about

police tactics and reduced crime

There is another way to look at developments

in policing – one that does not rely so exclu-sively on the theories of a few academics andpolice commissioners. We can usefully disag-gregate the broad models of policing in citieslike Chicago, New York and Boston, identify-ing first the critical powers of the police and,then, what is new about the way these powersare being used. It is well to begin with areminder of the powers, legitimate and border-line legitimate, we have given the police in theUS. It is through using those powers in a partic-ular set of tactics that street crime may bereduced, either by creating deterrence, or gath-ering intelligence, or establishing a feel ofpolice or neighbourhood control of the streets.What we know about the use of these powers toreduce crime should be reviewed, before turn-ing to the broader and more complex strategiesthat have characterised policing in Chicago,New York, and Boston. The present powers ofthe police are relatively well-known:• To arrest, search or engage in electronic sur-

veillance if there is probable cause to con-clude that the person has committed a crime.

• To seek or give a suspect concessions inexchange for information or evidence usefulagainst others.

• To “stop” if there is reasonable suspicion tobelieve that the person is about to commit acrime or has just committed a crime and tofrisk if there is reason to fear the person maybe armed.

• To “stop” cars on the ground that they arebeing operated in any way, however minor,in violation of local ordinances or state laws.

• To seek consent to search the stopped car or,alternatively, to search without consent byeither arresting the driver for a traffic viola-tion or developing a reasonable suspicion thatthe driver might be armed.

• To take advantage of even obvious confusionby a suspect about whether he/she has a rightto say “no” to a search of his/her home or caror person or to answer questions when notformally under compulsion not to leave.

• To imply, deceitfully, that they intend toexercise powers of arrest or restraint that theyin fact do not have, in order to gain leverageto force a recalcitrant witness or suspect tocooperate.

• To suggest a possible use of force eventhough its use would be illegal.

• To engage in any of these activities in a way

39

Heymann

that is designed to interfere with the subject’spersonal or business relations.

• To analyse material obtained in reports orinvestigations of individual crimes and togather useful intelligence from these reports.

Police in the US have long had a tool kit thatincluded at least the powers described above.Exceeding these considerable powers byimposing summary punishment or by usingunnecessary force to arrest or by disregardingsomeone’s privacy and property rights withoutprobable cause is generally a violation of localand federal law. To ignore the conditions limit-ing the use of one of these powers – even byactions that would not be a crime if carried outby ordinary citizens but which misuse theapparent powers and authority of the police – isan occasion for department discipline.

What do we know about the success of vari-ous tactics using these powers, reserving forlater a discussion of the broad strategies that area collection of tactics in Chicago, New Yorkand Boston? There is much guesswork in this.But we also know from fairly rigorous recentexperiments a good deal about what forms ofpolicing actually reduce crime, and as we shallsee, many of these are embedded in the broadstrategies described in the chapters that follow.A review of evaluations done by a team at theUniversity of Maryland for the Congress andthe Department of Justice tells us a good dealabout what “works.”22

In Policing for Crime Prevention, ProfessorLawrence Sherman of the University ofMaryland evaluates the evaluations of policingstrategy. Here are his conclusions. Shermanfinds, first, that, although the evidence is incon-sistent, the more convincing studies show thatan increase in the number of police causesreductions in crime in the following year, espe-cially in higher crime, larger cities. This is sup-ported by the evidence of epidemics of crimewhen the police are on strike23 and by the obvi-ous logic that the presence of more policeincreases the risk that an individual committinga crime will be apprehended, with both a deter-rent and an incapacitative effect.

On the other hand, Sherman finds that rapidresponse to calls from victims does not have asignificant effect, in terms of the resources itrequires, on crime reduction. Too many crimesare discovered after the fact and even a crimethat is discovered promptly is not affected by

rapid response if the time between the commis-sion of the crime and the initial contact with thepolice exceeds nine minutes. The averagereporting time for such crimes was 41 minuteslater.24 Nor did random patrol deter crime bycreating a sense of police omnipresence. Amonga group of studies, none of which Shermandeemed especially rigorous, the stronger studiessuggest that there is no such effect.25

What does make a difference, careful evalua-tions show, is focusing patrol resources onplaces and times that have the most crime. Theidea is supported by epidemiological researchthat has shown that crime tends to be verylocalised,26 and by careful studies in Minne-apolis which suggest that twice as much policepresence led to half as much crime in the hotspots, including when the police were not pre-sent.27 It also often led to increased neighbour-hood calls for service in the hot spot areas. Asto the time of day, not enough is known yet todetermine whether curfews, particularly forjuveniles, are an effective way of reducingcrime.

In a related way, concentrating limited policeresources on an identified band of particularlydangerous individuals or crimes also reducescrime. We know that a small fraction of a totalbirth cohort commits a very high percentage ofcrimes in any group. Targeting the more dan-gerous people had the hoped-for effect ofreducing crime in Washington and Phoenix.28

The case is less clear with regard to targetingdangerous crimes, with two notable exceptions:seizing guns and drunk driving.29 Efforts todetect and seize guns has proven to beimmensely effective in Kansas City. When gunseizures in a target area rose by 60%, gun crimedropped by almost 50%.30

There are at least short-term effects of focus-ing policing on activities that create a sense ofdisorder in a neighbourhood – tending to sup-port the “Broken Windows” theory that isdescribed later. But, as in the case of makingadditional arrests for misdemeanors and forother crimes for which an individual might notpreviously have been arrested (even if caught inthe act), the deterrent and incapacitative effectsmay be significantly offset by long-termeffects. Studies show that recidivism of juve-niles increases following arrest.31 The same istrue of some other categories of offenders, forexample, unemployed men guilty of domestic

40

Heymann

violence.32 There is a reminder in all this thatthe long-term effects of invoking the criminaljustice system for relatively minor behaviourcan be to increase rather than reduce crime byits effect on the life prospects or psychology ofthe individual.

As to the specific crime-reduction benefitsclaimed for conscientious efforts to improvepolice relations with neighbourhoods, Shermanhas this to say. “Neighbourhood watch” groupsseem to be almost wholly ineffective, perhapsbecause cooperation is least likely to be foundin high crime areas where distrust is wide-spread, although community meetings can helpmobilise citizen participation in reducing crime.Making visits to citizens’ homes is also helpfulfor policing, at least among non-minoritygroups, through gathering intelligence and oth-erwise eliciting support. Providing informationto the neighbourhood rather than eliciting infor-mation from the neighbourhood showed no signof affecting or reducing crime where it wastried in Newark and Houston.33 Finally,research consistently demonstrates that individ-uals who believe that the police treated themfairly in their previous encounters, and showedrespect, are more likely to obey the law in thefuture. A Milwaukee experiment in dealingwith those arrested for domestic violence is theleading example.34

Such specific, fact-based arguments are morepersuasive than exclusive reliance on the broad-er contentions that large changes in violencemust be attributable to changed policing simplybecause there was no parallel in the form ofdramatic changes in social conditions that couldexplain the drop in violence. In fact, as we haveseen, there have been dramatic changes in fac-tors from the availability of jobs to an end tothe growth of the crack market that couldexplain a rapid reduction in violent crime.

Moreover, even small changes in social con-ditions can result in dramatic differences incrime or other social phenomena when there isa contagion effect. A small increase in theavailability of guns, for example, could readilyresult in a geometric increase in the number ofyoung people feeling they need guns and theseincreases could in turn lead to still further geo-metric increases.We simply cannot assume thatbig changes in criminal behaviour can only bebrought about by dramatic changes of someother sort.

1.3 Changes in public and political attitudes

toward policing

However strong one may find the evidence thatnew forms of policing are far more successfulin reducing crime of almost every sort, otherthan the sale of drugs, the case has been strongenough and made persuasively enough to createa very substantial change in expert, official andpublic expectations about the crime-reductionand other functions of policing. One way ofillustrating that change is to examine thechange in notions about what the police shouldbe held accountable for.

South Africa is one of many countries thatmeasures the effectiveness of its police by theircapacity to solve crimes that have been com-mitted and the speed with which police canrespond to calls. South African police claim,unreliably, to have reduced response time to anaverage of a very few minutes. They are nowconcentrating on improving what happens next:detective work relying extensively on question-ing of witnesses and suspects and on forensics.In this framework, it makes sense that, in late1999, the South African police would onlyreluctantly take a report from my friend, a dri-ver whose rear window had been bashed with abrick long enough ago that suspects would notstill be there. And my friend could not herselfprovide a useful description of the suspects.There was simply no way to solve such a crime,and the police in South Africa are consideredaccountable for solving crimes that haveoccurred.

Police in the US have learned that most vic-tims do not call promptly enough to catch theperpetrator at the scene of the crime and thatdetective work cannot be relied on to solve thegreat mass of street crimes. With that aware-ness, our policing strategies in the past decadehave turned heavily towards prevention ofcrimes before they occur, using the help ofthose in a neighbourhood and focusing on prob-lems rather than individual events.

Faced with a situation like the attempted carhijacking in South Africa, a problem-solvingpolice department would very much want torecord and analyse the information; for, togeth-er with information on recent and similarevents at nearby locations, it would suggest aset of ways that the hijacking activity could bestopped. Some of these would be imaginativedevices for making arrests and getting convic-

41

Heymann

tions, such as sending undercover operatives tothe location or using leverage on people arrest-ed for other crimes in that area to gather infor-mation. A problem-solving police departmentwould also consider changing traffic patterns,eliminating the stop signs that make it possibleto bash the window of a stopped car and imme-diately reach in, etc. And it might try to build acommunity’s support for lawfulness, trust inthe police, internal coherence and “social capi-tal” to the point that bystanders in the neigh-bourhood would help deal with the problem.

Problem-solving policing has received a greatdeal of credit for reduced crime. As this hashappened, the public and elected officials havecome to hold the police responsible for reduc-ing crime and particularly violence by dealingwith the problems that create the opportunity ortemptation to safely commit crimes that aredangerous and create fear. In terms of account-ability, we have come to assume that the workof the police can be measured by the crime rate,not the arrest or conviction rate. Both NewYork and Boston have met that standard ofaccountability remarkably.

If reducing crime is what the police are com-ing to be held accountable for, there is dis-agreement with regard to another question: towhom are they accountable? The South AfricanConstitution requires a national police force,accountable to the nation as a whole. Citypolice departments are held accountable for thecrime figures of cities as large as Boston,Chicago and New York. But we also believethat they are accountable to local communitiesand for developing ways that local communitiescan impose social control themselves, assist thepolice, and focus the efforts of police andneighbourhoods on what concerns the neigh-bourhood most. New York attempts to focusresponsibility at the level of each of its 75precincts. Chicago tries to devolve responsibili-ty down to the level of a beat officer within aprecinct. In short, we are coming to accept thefact that police are accountable to neighbour-hoods as well as to cities and for providingwhat the neighbourhood wants as well as forassuring reduced danger and fear in the city atlarge.

2. THE NEW POLICING STRATEGIESAll this is the setting for a more detailed explo-ration of what is changing in policing with a

particular focus on three major cities at theforefront of change: Chicago, New York andBoston. Each has developed its own variationof the new strategies of policing. Each hasclaimed that its variation is best; and deservesthe most credit either in terms of reducedcrime, increased public acceptability of thepolice, or reduced fear. And we will comparetheir strategies with contemporary develop-ments in the United Kingdom (UK).

2.1 Chicago and New York

Chicago and New York have taken dramatical-ly different directions in policing. It is revealingthat both would claim to be operating in themode of “community policing”, a claim that isrequired if a city is to get funds from the federalgovernment to increase the number of itspolice.35 Both grow out of the same historicalrejection of three approaches to policing thathad taken on primary importance: random carpatrol, rapid response to calls for assistance,and skilled investigation of individual crimes.36

Both rejected what had become the acceptedmeasure of success: arrest rates.

Not everything about the older model ofpolicing is wrong. Rapid response is in factnecessary when the danger of violent crime iscontinuing. Reactive policing and skilled detec-tive work are in fact necessary if the same per-petrator is likely to attack the same or relatedvictims again. One of the top priorities of polic-ing is, in the language of Scotland Yard, “pre-venting repeat victimisation”.37 Some signifi-cant measure of success in solving dramaticcrimes is important to maintaining socialmores, public morale, and confidence in thepolice and government. Still, conceding all this,the limits of reactive policing and particularlythe failures of the hopes of random patrol, rapidresponse and detective work, required newstrategies.

The author has travelled with the police rapidresponse team (“flying squad”) in Johannes-burg as it speeds from emergency call to emer-gency call, generally reporting burglaries.There, as we have found in the US too, the per-petrator was always gone by the time the fewminutes it took the police to arrive was addedto the few minutes it took the householder tocall after the departure of the burglar. TheSouth African police could not use detectivework to solve the attempted hijacking described

42

Heymann

above, or many, many other crimes. Somethingdifferent is needed.

In the US the ineffectiveness of traditionalmodes of policing, which had been establishedby careful experiments, came to be reflected inexperiments in neighbourhood-based crimecontrol.38 The latter also addressed the dangersof friction between police and youth in crime-infested areas, dangers that had exploded inriots in the late 1960s. The new movementswere conceptualised in 1979 in a seminal arti-cle by Professor Herman Goldstein39 calling forthe police to go beyond merely fighting crimeand responding to emergency calls for help andto assume the responsibility to find solutions tohelp prevent and reduce a broad range of prob-lems faced by the community. Communitiesacross the country began experimenting withvarious applications of problem-solving polic-ing.

Three other scholarly developments in the1980s encouraged the problem-solving aspectof what was to become the new policing: thedevelopment of clear evidence linking disorderto fear of crime; the concept of “situational pre-vention”; and the notion of “hot spots”. Thefirst will be discussed in connection with NewYork. The concept of situational prevention,which originated in England, is that takingmeasures, tailored to particular crimes andlocations that make the commission of the par-ticular crime more difficult, risky, or lessrewarding, will discourage the commission ofthat crime.40

The theory of “hot spots” developed fromresearch and observations indicating that a dis-proportionate percentage of crime is usuallyconcentrated in small geographical areas, evenspecific addresses or locations.41 Identifyinghot spots was found to have two benefits. First,identifying hot spots may allow police to applythe concept of situational prevention to increasethe stakes for criminal or disorderly behaviourin the hot spots, through increasing police pres-ence in a particular area or increasing commu-nity efforts to watch an area. Next, identifyinghot spots allows policing analysts to use com-puter technology that can combine the hot spotlocations with detailed maps of the surroundingarea to attempt identification of location fea-tures that may help explain the reason for thehigh rate of crime.42

Under the leadership and sponsorship of

Professor Mark Moore and then-AttorneyGeneral Edwin Meese, a distinguished group ofpolice chiefs, mayors, academics and othersmet for five years beginning in 1988 and fur-ther developed the “twin poles of modern polic-ing”: encouragement of the participation atevery stage and in almost every way of theneighbourhood being policed; and addressingcrime as a problem to be solved prospectively,not as an event to be explained as history byretrospective investigation and, to whateverextent possible, then remedied by trial and pun-ishment.43

2.1.1 Chicago

The Chicago Alternative Policing Strategy(CAPS) started operating in prototype districtsin April 1993. Chicago emphasised the firstpole – neighbourhood involvement – morecompletely and enthusiastically than almost anyother city. The immediate scholarly backgroundfor this has been the work of Professor WesleySkogan.44 The more remote scholarly support isthe Chicago criminological tradition of empha-sising the relation of the demographic and soci-ological conditions of a neighbourhood to itsrate of crime.45

Current studies by Sampson and Earls46 haveadded greatly to this tradition. They show con-vincingly that the disparity in crime rates with-in areas of Chicago can be largely accountedfor by measurable neighbourhood differences,including prominent differences in those formsof “social capital” reflected by constructiveinvolvement in the concerns of neighbours –particularly the willingness to assist in theupbringing of children. The development ofsocial capital can be encouraged by workingwith neighbourhood organisations or helping todevelop them. It can be discouraged by allow-ing fear to force individuals within their ownhouses, away from groups and public places.

The form of policing in Chicago relies exten-sively on the neighbourhood to define the focusof police activities as they attempt to supportsocial control. If the neighbours are most con-cerned about gangs gathering on the street ornoise at night, then these should become policepriorities. There is, of course, a risk that theconcerns expressed by the neighbours areshaped by assumptions about what the policecan do, including doubts about police capacityto reduce many forms of violence. Still, there is

43

Heymann

a powerful democratic claim that neighbour-hood concerns should be respected as well asan instrumental argument that respecting themempowers the neighbourhood, building socialcapital and, with that, social control.

This has not been just philosophy. One of theunique characteristics of CAPS was the extentto which there was actual, sustained police-community involvement in identifying prob-lems47 of concern to the community. Com-munity involvement took two forms. The mostfundamental form of neighbourhood involve-ment involved the formal practice of regularmeetings between residents and police officersin every police “beat”.48 The practice of regularneighbourhood meetings was taken far moreseriously than in most cities with communitypolicing where public meetings were limitedmostly to initial, kick-off meetings and occa-sional, poorly-attended successors.49

Beat meetings, designed to identify problemsof concern to the particular community and toformulate solutions to the problems, were gen-erally held once a month in church basementsand park buildings.50 The CAPS programmeencouraged participation of neighbourhoodorganisations such as block clubs, communityorganisations, umbrella organisations, client-serving organisations, churches, and merchants’associations in the monthly beat meetings, aswell as participation by individual residents.Research of the CAPS programme indicates thatdifferent communities do, in fact, have differentpriorities and concerns.51 Different communitiesalso had major differences in their willingnessto become engaged with the CAPS efforts.

An additional way CAPS attempted to usethe community to identify problems, define pri-orities, identify resources and solutions, and toevaluate the effectiveness of local CAPSefforts, was through establishing district advi-sory committees. In addition to meeting withdistrict commanders and staff on a monthlybasis, committees were intended to establishsub-committees to help with the identificationand evaluation roles of the committees, concen-trating on specific needs or areas. In keepingwith the flexible, community-tailored focus ofthe CAPS vision of community policing, themake up of the committees was not establishedcentrally. Committees were established by dis-trict commanders, based on their view of themost appropriate membership for the district.

Committee members included those active inneighbourhood schools, businesses, churches,and other institutions active in each neighbour-hood. Procedural guidelines such as selectionof officers, term limits, and voting rights, how-ever, were established by the CAPS manage-ment team.

There are organisational implications of anemphasis on accountability to neighbourhoods.The Chicago policing pushes much of theresponsibility in the organisation down to thebeat officer, with an expectation that otherdepartment resources and personnel will assistbeat officers in their new role.52 One of the firstresponsibilities of the beat team53 is to collectbeat-specific information that is compiled as atool for problem-solving and new officer orien-tation, known as a “beat profile”. A beat profileincludes information on community organisa-tions and resources; descriptions of problemareas and abandoned buildings; identificationof 24-hour businesses, bars, banks and schools;and other relevant information gathered fromspecialised units, such as special gang units,with knowledge of the beat.54

Another new responsibility shared by a beatteam is documenting in a “beat plan” the threeor four key problems they will focus on in aparticular beat, in order to focus attention onthe issues until they are resolved, as well as theofficers’ plans for solving the problems.55 Informulating the beat plans, officers are expect-ed to consider resident input that the officersgarner from attendance at beat meetings (anoth-er new responsibility). While the advantages ofthe “beat” focus are obvious, one great disad-vantage, compared to New York, is that theinstruments the beat officer can control may betoo few to address a crime problem which maybe much larger than a single beat.

At the same time, the Chicago approachinvites the police to address non-crime prob-lems as well as crime. The beat officer andhis/her superiors are to focus on problem-solv-ing, including community problems that are notinitially the responsibility of the police but arewithin the control of the city government. Thepolice officer is a form of ambassador from thecentral government of Chicago, able to call onother parts of the government for a variety ofservices that can improve the quality of life inthe neighbourhood and build social capital atthe same time.56

44

Heymann

This notion of problem-solving, which isaddressed to a wide range of problems of theneighbourhood as defined by those living there,contrasts importantly with a sharp focus onrates of crime. Focused more broadly, Chicagois likely to have results less dramatic in termsof violent crime rates but more satisfactory interms of community acceptance and, throughthat, on rates of fear.

Evidence measuring acceptance by the com-munity and the effectiveness of the CAPS pro-gramme is mixed. Wesley Skogan led aresearch effort to evaluate the CAPS pro-gramme, focusing on 15 of the 279 policebeats.57 In terms of implementation of problemsolving, the overall assessment by the evalua-tion team was that of the 15 beats, “four weredoing an excellent job, five were fielding rea-sonable programmes, two were struggling tomake the grade and four failed to implementmuch problem solving at all”.58 The reasons forrelative success or failure seem inextricablyconnected to factors such as the personalities,enthusiasm, and leadership capabilities of theofficers.

The variations between the attitudes andefforts of the officers in the “worst” and “best”beats, in terms of implementation of problem-solving, are dramatic. The officers and sergeantin the beat that the evaluation labelled as the“best”, actively participated in beat team andcommunity meetings; developed, implemented,and followed through with problem-solvingstrategies; utilised CAPS procedures and cityresources; and responded to community priori-ties. Interestingly, the beat’s population rankedlast of all the beats in terms of being supportiveof the police.59 In great contrast, the “worst”beat team’s sergeant and officers had negativeor apathetic perspectives on their capacity toeffect change; the role of community beatmeetings (seeing them as a forum for complain-ing about the police); CAPS paperwork require-ments; and community policing in general(viewing it as public relations). Participationand attendance at beat team meetings weresparse and unproductive and they did not utilisethe resources available to them. CAPS proce-dures were utilised only nominally, if at all.60

These patterns are consistent with the other“best” and “worst” beats.61 Other evidence ofcitizen reactions is discussed after describingNew York’s strategies.

2.1.2 New York

Wesley Skogan also had played an importantrole as an intellectual father of one of the threecentral characteristics of New York’s policing.It was his argument in the 1990 book Disorder

and Decline that gave credibility to a ground-breaking article by James Q. Wilson andGeorge Kelling, “Broken Windows,” in theAtlantic Monthly almost two decades ago.62

The central argument of Broken Windows wasthat disorderly conduct on public streets, some-thing which the police can certainly control,can undermine social control by frightening, orotherwise discouraging, responsible citizensfrom being in public places and, at the sametime, can encourage criminals to believe thatcrime would be safe because “obviously, noone at the scene of disorder cares”. The exag-gerated perceptions of danger created by disor-der were, in themselves, a costly source of fearthat disturbed urban living.

As a matter that was secondary in theory but,perhaps, primary in practice, Broken Windowspolicing also justified very large numbers of“frisks” and misdemeanor arrests which had thetwin benefits of making the illegal carrying ofguns far more risky and picking up dangerouspeople who were wanted for other reasons. Thecase for Broken Windows policing thus relieson both the fact that disorder creates fear andfear eliminates social control, inviting activitiesthat may only take place in the absence ofsocial control, and the fact that focusing on dis-orderly offenses allows and invites aggressivestreet policing.

This is a form of problem-solving policing,intended to build social control as well as to usethe capacities that the police already have todeal with dangerous people, but it is unlike theChicago plan in its lack of dependence on anyform of fact-finding to determine a neighbour-hood’s definition of problems or any majoreffort to encourage community participation intheir solution. The New York–style of policinginvolves far more independent problem solvingby the police than Chicago’s policing, althoughone of its pillars is the belief, deeply embeddedin the Broken Windows theory, that disorder isa major concern of most responsible people inany neighbourhood.

While the Broken Windows theory thatundergirds this strand of New York’s strategyhas won nearly universal acclaim among schol-

45

Heymann

ars,63 it has not been without detractors. Oneespecially effective critic has been ProfessorBernard E. Harcourt. In a 1998 article in theMichigan Law Review, Harcourt replicatedSkogan’s analysis and took issue with many ofhis conclusions. Specifically, he found that cer-tain types of crimes, including rape, purse-snatching, and pickpocketing, are simply notsignificantly related to levels of disorder.64

Moreover, most other types of crime were notrelated at a statistically significant level whenpoverty, stability and race were held constant.65

Harcourt similarly took issue with other empiri-cal evidence cited by proponents of the BrokenWindows theory,66 concluding that the datasimply do not support the hypothesis.67

A second major strand in New York’s strate-gies is the energetic, imaginative use of the fullrange of police powers and capacities to dealwith crime problems as they arise. DeputyCommissioner Maple described the four crucialsteps of an effective police strategy as: accurateand timely intelligence; rapid deployment;effective tactics; and relentless follow-up andassessment. A crime problem might be solvedby moving more officers into the area, byaddressing its causes, by putting pressure onpeople subject to arrest and conviction to pro-vide evidence, by reducing safe opportunitiesfor crime, or in any of a dozen other ways. Theobject of this second strand of New York polic-ing is to be sure that every alternative use ofevery available police capacity is considered inaddressing what has been identified, promptlyafter it arose, as a significant crime problem.

The third notable strand of New York polic-ing is the much admired and, in fact, remark-able system of management by results calledCompStat.68 To assure the conditions of thesecond strand – early identification of the prob-lems, careful and imaginative review of tacticsinvolving all police capacities, and very promptresponse – requires assisting precinct comman-ders with ideas and, in the New York strategy,motivating them powerfully by the risk ofembarrassment or, worse, loss of the commandof a precinct. Both of these objectives areaccomplished by requiring each of the 75precinct commanders to appear at a very largemeeting of headquarters staff, other precinctcommanders, and prosecutors and be preparedto be examined on any adverse change in crimestatistics in the precinct and to discuss what is

being done about it. The pressure is substantial,and may be unnecessary. (Boston’s manage-ment system examines what is happening andwhat could be done in a far less confrontationalway.) Part of New York’s message may be sim-ply that the precinct commander should takesteps to release and encourage the natural incli-nations of the police officers to go after crimeaggressively. But imagination and intelligenceis shared at the same time.

Although close cooperation with neighbour-hood groups and reliance on neighbourhoodleadership has not been a focus of the newpolicing in New York, there have occasionallybeen experiments in these areas. Even at itsmost responsive to communities, however, itnever approached the aims or practices ofChicago’s CAPS programme.

2.1.3 Results in New York and Chicago

What do we know about the results in NewYork and Chicago? Both cases remind us thatresults on the street may depart from strategies.Sometimes Chicago could not develop neigh-bourhood policing in one beat, although it wassuccessful in an adjacent beat. New York hasexperienced a number of very dramatic andinflammatory instances of police abuse whichwere certainly not planned as part of its strate-gy. And its efforts at developing creative com-munity relations in the 75th precinct also seemexceptional – far from integral to its core strate-gies.69 Moreover, in each case, the studies weredone within a very few years of the initiation ofthe strategy; that may be too soon to know thelong-term consequences. But it is important tolook at what we know now about two dimen-sions: effectiveness in reducing crime and theability of the police to develop trust within thecommunity being policed.

In 1998, two arms of the Department ofJustice (the Office of Community-OrientedPolicing Services and the Bureau of JusticeStatistics) produced a groundbreaking victimi-sation survey of residents of 12 cities, two ofwhich were Chicago and New York. Questionswent both to the level of crime, fear, and disor-der and to the attitudes of citizens toward thepolice.

New York had the more serious crime prob-lems but was making more progress in dealingwith them. In 1998, there were in Chicago 68violent victimisations per 1000 residents 12-

46

Heymann

years-old or older; in New York, there were farmore at 85 per 1000. The black violent victimi-sation rate in Chicago in 1998 was 50 per 1000citizens for violent crime; in New York it was123 per 1000. A violent victimisation in NewYork was almost twice as likely to involve aweapon. But during the period 1993–1997,homicides in Chicago decreased by about 10%.In New York, homicides declined by more than60% from 26.5 per 100 000 to 10.5 per 100 000.

In both Chicago and New York in 1998, resi-dents were far more likely to fear crime in theircity than in their neighbourhood or on theirstreet. Obviously, fears are more exaggerated asfirst-hand evidence declines. Along each ofthese dimensions, there was slightly more fearin Chicago then in New York. Moreover, 25%of the respondents in Chicago said they weremore frightened than they had been a few yearsearlier and only 15% in New York were morefrightened.

As might be expected with Broken Windowspolicing, a slightly smaller percentage of thepopulation in New York reported public drink-ing or drug use, public drug sales, vandalism,graffiti, prostitution and panhandling in theirneighbourhood. In Chicago, 36% of the residentssaid that conditions of disorder or, activities ofthe sort just described, made them feel less safe.This was true of only 29% in New York.

Seventy-four per cent of the residents inChicago reported themselves either very orsomewhat fearful of crime in their city. Only asomewhat smaller figure, 68%, reported thesame in New York. While most people in bothcities felt that their fear had not changed much,there was a somewhat greater percentage ofthose who felt reduced fear in New York.

Reports on trust-building relations with thepolice were also revealing, but cut the otherway. Sixty-seven per cent of residents inChicago and only 51% of New York residentssaid the police were doing community policing.Thirty-eight per cent of Chicagoans, comparedto 23% of New Yorkers, had heard about ameeting concerning crime in their neighbour-hood in 1998. Along all the following dimen-sions, a somewhat higher percentage of thosefrom Chicago, than from New York, had con-tact with the police: casual conversation, call-ing the police for service, providing informa-tion to the police, reporting a crime to the

police, asking for advice from the police, andparticipating in community activity with thepolice. A significantly higher percentage ofNew York residents felt there was an increasedpolice presence in their neighbourhood; it justtook a different form.

The Chicago police elicited more satisfiedreactions from the victims of violent crimesthan New York police and a significantly high-er percentage of Chicago residents said that thepolice were doing a lot of work with the resi-dents of the neighbourhoods to prevent crimeand safety problems. This is far more at theheart of the Chicago strategy than the NewYork strategy. Seventy-three per cent of theresidents of Chicago were familiar with theterm “community policing”. Only 50% of NewYork residents were, a revealing fact in itself.

One figure combined concern about crimeand concern about the police. Residents in bothcities were very satisfied with local police. Notsurprisingly, blacks in both Chicago and NewYork were less satisfied with the local policethan were whites. But despite several notoriousincidents of police brutality in New York,blacks there were more satisfied with the localpolice than were blacks in Chicago, by a mar-gin of 77% to 69%.70

2.2 Boston

Boston was not part of the Department ofJustice survey of 12 cities. We do know that itsstrategies, which will be described presently,are different from those of both New York andChicago – different not only in an attempt tocombine parts of each of the other city’s strate-gies, but also in making very different use ofproblem solving than New York and a very dif-ferent use of neighbourhood cooperation thanChicago. The rate of homicide reduction inBoston during the past decade was nearly asdramatic as that in New York.71

It is worth reviewing the events that ledBoston to embrace the community policingmodel. Already widely criticised for overlyaggressive street patrols, in the late 1980s theBoston Police Department encountered publicoutrage when it was revealed that officers,faced with the sudden emergence of crackcocaine, were indiscriminately stopping andsearching young black men. The “stop andfrisk” scandal came to a head in the fall of1989. Based on widespread suspicion that

47

Heymann

police routinely used unconstitutional searchesand seizures, a Dorchester judge suppressedevidence he believed had been obtainedimproperly.

That same year, Carol Stuart, a pregnantwhite woman, was murdered near a largelyAfrican-American part of Boston. Her husbandCharles, a witness to the crime, reported that ablack male committed the murder. Based onthis account, the Boston Police Departmentaggressively pursued suspects from the area,eventually eliciting witness statements thatincriminated a local black resident. Thesecharges turned out to be false when CharlesStuart was later implicated as the murderer.Stuart killed himself before the investigationcould be completed. The widespread reports ofpolice abuse, coupled with the appearance ofracism within the department, exacerbated pub-lic hostility towards the police, particularlywithin the African-American community.

Recognising that they needed approaches thatwere effective and less divisive, the BostonPolice Department implemented a variety ofproblem-solving and community-policingstrategies. The most notable “problem-solving”strategy in Boston is what David Kennedy, ofHarvard University’s John F. Kennedy Schoolof Government, has called “Pulling Levers.”72

In contrast to Broken Windows, it has not mademisdemeanor arrests, stops, and frisks a key toreduced homicides by increasing the risks ofcarrying guns, the most lethal weapon. PullingLevers is instead based on a form of deterrencethat is new and yet grounded in a very old theo-ry.

For some centuries, it has been accepted thatcertainty and swiftness of punishment is morelikely to be effective in changing conduct thanlonger penalties imposed without certainty orspeed. This may be particularly true of youth-ful, violent offenders who are likely to discountsharply both the chance of getting caught andthe costs of future punishment and who mayknow little about actual punishments. Workingwith the Boston police, Kennedy found, from acareful review of homicide files, that violencein Boston was heavily concentrated, on both theperpetrator’s and the victim’s side, in gangmembers and among those with long arrestrecords. Kennedy also found, not surprisingly,that the identities of youth with these character-istics were well-known to the police. (Police in

many cities believe that the number of danger-ous perpetrators is relatively small and thattheir identities are known.)

The Boston police discovered that youth inthe dangerous categories were subject to a largenumber of sanctions and inconveniences of onesort or another. In Kennedy’s words:

“The Boston Gun Project Working Groupobserved that gangs and gang members leftthemselves open to an enormous range ofsanctions, exactly because they were sohighly criminal. Gang members committedlarge numbers of crimes that were open toready police enforcement: they sold drugson the street and they committed large num-bers of disorder offenses like drinking andusing drugs in public, trespassing, and thelike. Gangs and gang members were oftenthe subject of longer-term enforcementattention, such as undercover drug investi-gations. They were frequently on probation,sometimes on parole, and they routinelyviolated their conditions of probation andparole, which could include curfews, arearestrictions, restrictions on how many andwhich people they could associate with,abstinence from alcohol and other drugs,and the like. They were often out on bailawaiting trial or sentencing, with similarconditions which were similarly frequentlyviolated. Juvenile offenders were oftenunder formal Department of Youth Services(DYS) supervision but still living in thecommunity. And gangs and gang memberswere often implicated in large numbers of‘cold’ cases such as unsolved assaults andhomicides.”73

The threat of use of these sanctions could beconveyed in person to the individuals whoseconduct had to be changed. Absent evidence ofa serious crime, which could be hard to comeby, the police might not be able to stop all theanti-social or criminal conduct of an individualspecifically warned of the amount of attentionand the range of sanctions to which he wouldbe subject. But the sanctions were adequate toprevent any particular type of conduct, forexample, violence. Indeed, violence may oftenbe something that young people would like toavoid if they could without losing face. In anyevent, it was less important than profit-makingactivities, which would be threatened by policeattention.

48

Heymann

Thus, the overall strategy is clear and persua-sive. If, as was true in Boston, an identifiablegroup of individuals is known or reasonablybelieved to be responsible for a large percent-age of a particular type of crime, and if they areindividually subject to a wide range of sanc-tions, then it should be possible to prevent themfrom engaging in any type of criminal behav-iour which is not of central importance to themby making clear, in face-to-face contact, that allavailable sanctions will be brought to bear ifthey engage in the prohibited conduct. Violentyouth could be shown to fall into that category,as could the crimes of violence that Boston wasdetermined to stop. The strategy would work solong as the critical neighbourhoods – those thatwere home to the youth subject to highly spe-cific and threatening orders to give up violence– were supportive and did not regard the polic-ing strategy as unfair or discriminatory. Findingthat support, which New York had done muchless well, was one of the objectives of the other,neighbourhood-based half, of Boston’s policingstrategy.

Critical to Boston’s efforts to develop com-munity support was the police department’spartnership with the Ten Point Coalition, aprominent group of local black clergy who hadmade a name for themselves by taking theirministries to Boston’s most dangerous streets.Despite historically tense relations, the twogroups began to work together once they recog-nised their mutual need: the ministers’ attemptsto reach at-risk youth were undermined bycommitted offenders who continued to run thestreets, while the police department’s plans toimplement community-based strategies depend-ed on the participation and acceptance of com-munity members who did not trust them. Muchof Boston’s success in lowering crime anddeveloping community support arises from thecredibility the department developed by virtueof its association with the Ten Point Coalition.This credibility has endured in large partbecause the Coalition, while cooperative, hasremained a distinct entity not afraid to criticisepolice action. As a community watchdog, TenPoint has helped keep the police accountableand deterred abuses akin to those that haveplagued New York in recent years.

The community-based activities, which arevery much part of Boston’s strategy, can beillustrated by the Dorchester neighbourhood, a

policing precinct of which the Boston policeare particularly proud. They take two forms: • modes of serious and continuous consultation

with citizens• demonstrations of concern for the well-being

of young people getting in trouble, not justrecrimination.

Serious consultation began with city-widestrategic planning with local priorities to be setby teams in each police district led by the dis-trict commander but whose membership wasdivided between police and concerned,involved citizens. Real power was devolvedfrom headquarters to the district commander inclose association with citizen stakeholders. Inthe Dorchester district, for example, CaptainDunford gives his neighbourhood advisorycouncil significant influence, even over budgetallocations and patrol plans. Within each dis-trict, “team leaders” are assigned specialresponsibility for the special problems of a par-ticular beat.

The neighbourhood orientation in Dorchesteris maintained on a daily basis by four commu-nity service officers each of whose assignmentis to interact with neighbourhood groups in aparticular beat – explaining, learning, relayingconcerns and recruiting participation in ashared “Project Safeguard” to provide neigh-bourhood safety.

Finally, even prosecution is made subject tocommunity influence in still another pro-gramme: the Dorchester Safe NeighbourhoodInitiative whose Advisory Council includeslocal residents as well as police and prosecu-tors.

The second strand in Boston is a demonstrat-ed concern for the well-being of youth alreadygetting into trouble. What the Boston policeavoid is a sense that they are the dangerousenemies of all but the well-behaved amongyouth in struggling neighbourhoods. Adoptingthe mixed concerns of relatives of youth whoform much of the community, the police aredetermined to make the life of salvageableyouth better, not harder. Thus CommissionerEvans uses a federal block grant to pay for clin-ical social workers, who are attached to policedistricts such as Dorchester, to advise and sup-port and introduce to useful programmes, youthreferred to them by police. They maintain con-fidentiality and appear in court for the youthwhere this seems appropriate to the case.

49

Heymann

Districts like Dorchester also have juvenile jus-tice “roundtables” that involve the police, dis-trict attorney, schools, social services, and oth-ers in regular discussions of what is happeningin the lives of a list of troubled youth in aneffort to find help for them and to coordinategovernmental responses.

The Boston strategy had organisational impli-cations. While some New York precinct com-manders found CompStat meetings harsh andthreatening, Commissioner Evans expected dis-trict commanders in Boston to carry out theirplans in highly decentralised ways. His rolewas to decide whether to approve a plan andthen support and monitor it.

2.3 England and Wales

One final strategy, distinct but related to thethree described above, deserves attention aswell, for it combines central elements of allthree strategies outlined. Like Chicago’s strate-gy, the crime legislation introduced by TonyBlair’s Labour Party relies powerfully on thewishes of the neighbourhood residents anddepends upon their initiating action. Like NewYork, it focuses attention on disorderly andfear-generating actions that are threatening toindividuals; but instead of using statutes thatbroadly prohibit a type of conduct (such asdrinking alcoholic beverages on the street),Britain has turned to far more specific require-ments that are addressed only to certain namedindividuals.

Like Boston, the new provisions are specifi-cally targeted on individuals whose behaviourhas shown them to be troublesome and who arenot subject to present prosecution because oflack of evidence of an immediate crime. Butthe British prohibitions include efforts to deterbehaviour far less serious than the lethal vio-lence that concerned Boston.

The Crime and Disorder Act of 1998,74 forEngland and Wales, creates something calledan “anti-social behaviour order”. Either thepolice or the local government can apply forsuch an order from a magistrate’s court. Thedefendant does not have to be present at theproceedings, which are civil and operate undera “preponderance of the evidence” rule, notrequiring proof “beyond a reasonable doubt.” Ifthe defendant is found to have acted “in a man-ner that caused, or was likely to cause harass-ment, or alarm, or distress to one or more per-

sons not of the same household as himself” andif the defendant cannot establish that his or herbehaviour was reasonable in the circumstances,a court order to protect the people in the localgovernment area for a minimum of two years(and no maximum) is to be issued, prohibitingthe individual from doing anything or beinganywhere described in the order. Violating theorder without a reasonable excuse is anindictable offense, which carries as much as afive-year term.

There is no requirement that the defendanthad intended to harass or to cause alarm anddistress. Nor is there any requirement that thealarm or distress be “serious.” Moreover, theactivities giving rise to the order are intended tobe broader than the acts prohibited by the crim-inal law. In effect, a magistrate’s court can dealwith people it finds to be engaged in frighten-ing behaviour by developing an injunctive lawof its own, a violation of which is punishablecriminally. The primary explanation for bypass-ing general requirements of the criminal law inthis way is that there are courses of conductwhich involve an accumulation of events, noneof which is itself criminal but which together,as an extended course of conduct, warrantssevere measures. The deterrence is even morespecific and focused than Boston’s PullingLevers.

3. THE PROBLEM OF LEGITIMACYHow could anyone complain about such imagi-native and apparently successful policing as hastaken place, for example, in New York? Theanswer is that, in exchange for quite remarkableimprovements in personal security, we areaccepting reductions in the democratic controland thus the legitimacy of the purposes forwhich the powers of the police can be used.And we are endorsing significant reductions incontrol over the discretion of the police inchoosing specific targets.

We are moving toward a regime of policingwhere the notions of equal protection, of proba-ble cause and reasonable suspicion as predi-cates for detention and search, and the verydetermination of what conduct will be permit-ted and what form of disorder is subject toprompt sanctions is left in far larger part to thepolice.

We must count the costs as well as the con-siderable benefits of the new policing.

50

Heymann

3.1. The problem of the democratic

legitimacy of the goals for which police

powers are used

In describing the successes of the new policing,we have implicitly assumed that the goal was toreduce serious crime on a city-wide basis. It istime to examine whether this is in fact acceptedas the goal of the new policing and, if not, whatis? Indeed, a prior question remains unan-swered: who is to set the goals?

3.1.1 The inevitability of discretion

To be clear at the start, the police have manyresponsibilities beyond reducing crime. Theyprevent fights, regulate demonstrations, enforcetraffic regulations, engage in rescue or otherassistance, and much more. I have focused onthe crime reduction benefits of the new policingor the neighbourhood trust that it can inducebecause these have been the major subjects ofattention in bringing about the changes thathave occurred since 1990, not because they arethe only significant functions of a modern,urban police department. Second, unavoidablythere are critical choices to be made as to goals,even in the more limited area of dealing withthe effects of crime on continuing danger, pub-lic fear, social control in neighbourhoods andpublic resentment of disorder.

Civil law countries from Argentina to Franceand Germany sometimes pretend that there isnot a serious question as to the purposes forwhich police powers like those described abovecan be used, contending that the police officeris obligated to arrest whenever he sees a crimeand then to take investigative steps at the orderof a judge whom the officer, carrying outanother legal obligation, must notify immedi-ately of the crime and the suspect.

Thus, in 1999, Klaus Hubmann, the seniorpublic prosecutor in Nuremberg, Germany,explained that he had to investigate a failedattempt 53 years earlier by two Jewish sur-vivors of the Holocaust to poison members ofthe SS.75

Political or moral aspects could play no partin the decision, he explained. Civil law coun-tries deny that their police have the discretion,so readily accepted in the US, not only todecline to arrest in very sympathetic situationsbut also to develop imaginative uses of policepowers for such purposes as reducing disorder,preventing violence, building social control,

carrying out whatever are the wishes of mem-bers of a community, and more.

This denial of discretion is surely fiction inalmost every country in the world. The policeofficer is forced to decide on what occasions heor she should use these powers for two majorreasons. First, in every country, what crimes anofficer will be in a position to act upon dependsupon where he/she is and what he/she is look-ing for and this involves discretion. Second, ifhe/she comes upon a minor matter that is crimi-nal, he/she has to decide whether it is worthhis/her time, and the time of prosecutors andjudicial officials, to process the matter. In theUS we are very frank about such uses of judge-ment or discretion by individual police officersor, sometimes, by the police department in theform of directives to officers.

In short, it is wholly implausible to assumethat the goal in the US is to enforce all of thecriminal statutes enacted by state and federallegislatures. The larger part of violations of thelaw by 270 million Americans must be ignoredby less than one million police who do not havethe time to investigate matters they considerunimportant, and who know that prosecutorsand judges will lack the capacity to try cases ifall the small matters are brought to court andthat juries are likely to reject the use of thecriminal law as excessive in those cases. Wehave come to assume that even statutes recentlypassed by a concerned legislature will beapplied with discretion as to their use.

3.1.2 Traditional understandings and new

choices

It is how this discretion is used – not any novel-ty or recognition of the need for it – that hastaken new shape as policing has changed. Untila few decades ago it was understood that policediscretion – use of limited police resources –would be rationed by the seriousness of theconduct that was being investigated. This seri-ousness was in turn dictated by the people’srepresentatives in the legislature, who used sen-tencing levels to express their relative disap-proval of criminal conduct. The assumption, inother words, was that there was a direct correla-tion between the sentence imposed and the citi-zenry’s view (as expressed through its electedrepresentatives) of the relative seriousness ofthe conduct. As long as police employed sen-tences as guidelines to seriousness – and, for

51

Heymann

the most part, they did – there was a strongdemocratic component to their enforcementdecisions. Thus, police ignored minor, regulato-ry offenses or left them underpoliced and,therefore, underdetected. The measures ofpolice performance we developed, focusing onFederal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) statisticsas to a few serious crimes, also reflected thatjudgment. In recent decades, the focus hascome to include, besides punishing individualcrimes, incapacitating dangerous criminalgroups ranging from organised crime to terror-ists to street gangs. But what qualified a groupfor attention was still the seriousness of theconduct in which it engaged: political violence,organised street violence, corruption of offi-cials, intimidation and extortion.

Both traditional assumptions about the goalsor ends of policing and assumptions about howthe available means or powers will be used toaccomplish whatever goals are chosen havebeen brought into question by the new policing.Leaving changes in assumptions about meansuntil later, we should focus first on the questionof legitimacy of goals.

Consider the issues presented by “problem-solving” policing. What problems should begiven priority? The menu of possible “prob-lems” of street crime the police might decide toaddress includes:• Forms of particularly harmful violence such

as homicides, rape or regular intimidation byorganised crime, a gang,or individuals.

• All violence.• Activities that create fear in many people or

otherwise discourage social control such asthe disorder coming from open-air drug mar-kets.

• All forms of drug trafficking.• The security of property against even non-

violent theft.Moreover, these and perhaps other categoriesof crime are more or less important, dependingon the place, time and victims of the crime. Sothe choice is among at least five categories ofcrime with at least three variations of each. Infact, after some discussion, one might wellwant to increase the number of choices to wellbeyond 15.

3.1.3 Whose views should priorities reflect?

With these reasonable contenders for priority inpolicing, a critical question becomes: whose

views of the importance of each categoryshould control? Again, there are a number ofalternatives. Whatever category the police lead-ership considers most important might be criti-cal. To set limits on acceptable goals, we mightwant to forbid decisions that seem intended tofavour or disfavour the interests of an identifi-able group or class, such as failing to investi-gate powerful political figures or concentratingpolice effort in wealthy neighbourhoods andfailing to provide adequate policing in poorneighbourhoods, or – a contentious issue – pro-jecting the views of the police, without anypopular basis for the choice, as to such issues asfreedom from fear or what suppressing disorderrequires.

A second alternative is that the categories ofcrime most deserving of priority are whateverthe police think that the majority of the citizensof the city want addressed, regardless of theviews of the people in the immediate neigh-bourhood where the problem exists and thepolicing is to occur. A closely related alterna-tive is that priority should go to whatever prob-lems the mayor wants addressed, for he/she isthe duly-elected supervisor of the police.

Another alternative is to give priority towhatever problems the police believe the peo-ple in the particular neighbourhood wantaddressed. This could be defined several differ-ent ways: “the respectable leadership of theneighbourhood” (where the definition of“respectable” may amount to police selection ofacceptable behaviour); those in the neighbour-hood who volunteer to work with the police; orthe majority of residents of the neighbourhood,although there is generally no available processfor determining majority views in a neighbour-hood.

Some of these ways of setting priorities aremore democratic than others, either in the effortby the police to decide whose concerns are tobe valued or in the making of the actual choiceby one or another of the different groups. Buteven in the more democratic methods, deepproblems lurk. The police may not be verygood at determining the views of the majorityof the public, however we define the relevantpublic.

As always, the size of the constituency alsomatters. We know by surveys that people gen-erally believe their own neighbourhoods to befar safer than they believe the entire city to

52

Heymann

be.76 The people outside a neighbourhood areaare thus more likely to be influenced by fear,even if exaggerated, and by the immense effectof rare but dramatic crimes as described by themedia. Neighbourhood majorities are likely tohave different attitudes than majorities of a farlarger, entire-urban jurisdiction.

Even if the decision is made to focus on theviews of local communities that are smallerthan entire cities, the result is likely to dependon how one defines a neighbourhood. (Chicagois redrawing borders of neighbourhoods forthese purposes.) But the hardest problem isdeciding whose views matter. The fact is thatdifferent groups want different things. Theyoung and the old are likely to have differentattitudes toward disorder. Minorities in a cityare likely to have different attitudes thanmajorities. Most dramatically, the problem canbe illustrated by the question: What valueshould be given to the concerns of rebelliousminority youth in an urban slum. Some havetreated this group as entitled to concern; othershave regarded this group as the object, not thebeneficiary, of policing.

In sum, problem-solving policing, whether ornot it takes its goals from those living in a par-ticular neighbourhood, requires choice among avariety of goals. Even assuming that the objec-tive is to choose goals democratically, so thatthe police are acting in the name of thoseaffected by their policing, there is no agreedupon definition of whose concerns are to bevalued, how they are to be determined, andwhat is to be done when those affected haveinconsistent concerns.

It may not be possible to resolve these ques-tions persuasively in terms of some politicalphilosophy. But it is certainly dangerous, interms of democratic values, to leave these ques-tions unaddressed. That is a dangerous charac-teristic of the “new policing”.

3.2 The abuse of police powers

For many people, the police represent not onlyprotection against the predatory conduct ofone’s neighbour but also a source of fear them-selves. The fear may be of brutality by the onlylegitimate armed force in the community or ofthe embarrassment of being treated, particularlypublicly, without dignity or respect by mem-bers of an organisation (the police) that repre-sents the authority and the power of the state.

Or the fear may be of intrusiveness into areasof privacy that one wanted to reserve for one-self and intimates. Owing to these fears, wehave come to expect more from the police thaneffectiveness in pursuing even carefully chosengoals.

We expect, first, a concern about maintaininga healthy relationship between the citizen andthe authority and power of the state; i.e., arespect for the liberty and privacy of individu-als. Second, we demand an absence of bias inthe use of the powers described above, forassertions of police authority and force that aresystematically biased against a racial, religiousor ethnic group convey a powerful message ofsecond-class citizenship. Bias against politicalopponents of the police or their political super-visors is also a terrible threat to a vital democ-racy. We expect, third and most broadly, to beaccorded the respect that a citizen deserves in acitizen-ruled democracy – respect displayed inthe way individuals are addressed and handled,particularly in front of others. To protect allthese expectations, we depend on the visibilityand reviewability of significant decisions bypolice officers.

In some conflict with these three expectationsthe new policing, in many of its manifestations,involves tactics and strategies which are likely:to increase the power of the state at the expenseof the capacity of citizens to avoid or resist thatpower; to invite the use of discretion in waysthat are more likely to reveal bias than the olderforms of policing; and to increase the likeli-hood of particular groups of people being sub-jected to embarrassment, and treated withoutrespect on the streets. At the same time, thenew forms of policing are almost designed tobe carried out beneath the radar of visibility onwhich accountability depends. Thus, there is aprice to be paid for the great potential of thenew forms of policing, but the price can bereduced by addressing it carefully.

3.2.1 Citizen and state: civil liberties

Consider the effect of the new policing on theefforts of the past half-century to control therelationship of the state to the individual and, inparticular, of a police officer to a citizen. Thespecific fears during that period focused onpolice abuse of the powers to search, arrest andinterrogate. In the 1960s, the US SupremeCourt insisted that all of these powers, even

53

Heymann

when exercised by local police officers, mustsatisfy specific conditions – probable cause orreasonable suspicion and the Miranda rules – orelse any evidence flowing from the actionwould be excluded from trial.77 The assumptionwas that there would be little incentive to vio-late the Court’s rules if the information couldnot be used at trial. A somewhat more lenientstandard was enough to stop or frisk an individ-ual (reasonable and articulable suspicion), anda somewhat stricter standard was applicable toelectronic surveillance.78

Because these standards required the policeto show that, before acting, they had evidenceof a crime (and since the focus of policing wason very serious crimes), there has been practi-cally no use of the equal protection clause toguarantee that minorities are not treated differ-ently; they could not be subject to these policepowers at all unless there was an adequate basisto believe they had committed what was gener-ally a serious crime. And there was a final pro-tection of which we were very proud: the policecould not arrest or search at all if the basis forthat activity – the definition of the criminalconduct of which the police needed evidence –was so general and encompassing in its cover-age or so vague in what it forbade, that it leftthe police officer with the widest discretion indeciding whose conduct and what conductshould be made the basis of arrest and, perhaps,trial.79

It is true and important that these efforts tolimit the powers of the police and to regulatethe relations between citizen and state in a waythat respects the primacy of the citizen werebased on two suppositions that were, at least,shaky. The first was that police conduct on thestreet would very largely be motivated by thedesire to gather evidence for trial, and thuscould be regulated by excluding evidenceobtained in violation of the restrictions onpolice behaviour. Second, and equally impor-tant, the rules did not provide protectionagainst, or regulate in any significant way,some very powerful investigative techniques:the use of informants; the use of grand jurypowers to compel testimony prior to trial;police offers to engage in illegal transactions inorder to develop evidence; a variety of types ofphysical surveillance; a variety of techniquesfor eliciting “consent” to a form of detention orsearch; threats to prosecute an individual who

has committed a crime in order to get evidence;and, perhaps most dramatically, the constitu-tional power to arrest some individuals, and notothers, for minor offenses in order to takeadvantage of the power to search, within a lim-ited area, in connection with an arrest.80

Seeking greater freedom of action, a policeofficer or department could emphasise theseunregulated powers. And even the regulatedpowers could be violated without much fear ofconsequences if the purpose was not to sup-press evidence.

The new policing is intended, in manyinstances, to greatly increase the effectivenessof the unregulated powers and to find ways toavoid judicial enforcement by the exclusionaryrule of even such regulated powers as “stop andfrisk”. Findings by the Attorney General of theState of New York suggest that there has beenno adequate effort by the New York police torestrict frisks or stops to the situations wherethe Constitution permits that activity.81 Theresult of many tens of thousands of such stopshas undoubtedly been a sizeable reduction inthe carrying of guns and thereby of homicides.But there is a price for abandoning this part ofthe system of accountability for detentions andsearches. A rapid increase in misdemeanorarrests or the use of a variety of other formal orinformal sanctions in situations where the aver-age citizen would not be subjected to thatpolice power recreates the very capacity to tar-get specific individuals, gangs and other groups– particularly minority youth – that theSupreme Court had tried to forbid by outlawingthe use of vague statutes.

In a number of situations in a number ofcities, a major component of the new policingstrategy is to rely increasingly on that set ofpolice powers which are substantially unregu-lated by law and to take advantage of theinability of courts to hold the police account-able by recourse to the exclusion of evidence –all in order to focus unreviewable police discre-tion on those forms of conduct and those indi-viduals that the police somehow determine aremost dangerous. This conscious use of theweaknesses in the control system built up since1950 has had dramatic and beneficial results inhandling crime, but not without significantrisks of changing the relationship of the citizento the state, of the police to individuals on thestreet. It may well be that most people in most

54

Heymann

neighbourhoods regard the trade-off as highlyfavourable to the new policing.82 It is nonethe-less dangerous to democratic values.

3.2.2 Equal protection: civil rights

There has been only extremely rare use of theequal protection clause to regulate police con-duct, on the theory that important intrusionssuch as arrest and search are adequately regu-lated by the requirements of probable cause andthat minor intrusions, which have not been reg-ulated by the Constitution or statute, hardlydeserve special attention. But the second part ofthis judgement has proven to be inadequate in anumber of ways. Stopping more blacks andHispanics than white non-Hispanics eitherwithout the justification of reasonable suspicionor with the justification of having observed aviolation of the law – albeit one that is general-ly ignored in the case of others – may be rela-tively unimportant in its immediate effects onan individual but of immense importance inwhat it says about the place of black orHispanic Americans in the society and in termsof the felt reality of the promise of equal pro-tection of their government they have beengiven by the US Constitution. Moreover, it maybe the embarrassment and resentment of beingsingled out as a suspect, far more than the intru-sion on one’s privacy that needs protection, asChief Justice Warren recognised in writing theopinion in Terry v. Ohio83 sustaining “stop andfrisk”. Finally, what may be a minor intrusion,if it occurs on a single occasion, may be amajor problem if it occurs regularly enough tofuel the fears and affect the conduct of mem-bers of a suspect class (for example, minorityyouth in a high-crime area).

Beyond the costs of these largely unreview-able uses of powers against those the policebelieve, often correctly, to be more likely to beengaged in a particular type of crime, there isthe problem of spillover to clear violations ofthe rules with respect to arrest or search orinterrogation. The brutality and the excessiveforce displayed in the Louima and Diallo casesin New York City increase the sense of insecu-rity and the reluctance to exercise the libertiesof other citizens of African-Americans.84

To the extent that the new policing encour-ages the police to focus investigative attentionon the earliest signs of criminal behaviour oreven on disorder alone, it invites using even

weak evidence as a basis for finding “reason-able suspicion” and for the invocation of pow-ers that do not ordinarily require any justifica-tion or form of accountability. Thus, a reviewof 175 000 forms detailing “stop and frisk”activity in New York city by New York State’sAttorney General, Eliot Spitzer,85 showed thateven police records reflect about nine stops ofblacks and Hispanics and eight stops of whitesfor each resulting arrest. In its focus on prob-lem solving, the new policing also emphasisesthe steps that can be taken against an individualwithout any individualised basis in fact. A fre-quent example is stopping a driver and search-ing his/her car for drugs under the pretext ofconcern that the car’s taillight is not working orits speed is excessive, and that the car is beingoperated therefore in violation of a local ordi-nance. Such forms of policing allow andencourage the use of guesses and probabilitiesthat are far less dependent on evidence, com-pared to what has traditionally been requiredfor a stop or an arrest or a search to gatherinformation.

Weaker requirements of justification forpolice action almost invariably invite morebias. The Spitzer study showed that “even whencrime is accounted for statistically, minoritiesstill were being ‘stopped’ at a higher rate thanwhites”; blacks were 23% more likely andHispanics 39% more likely than white non-Hispanics to be stopped by police.86

Generalisations about the greater likelihoodthat a particular group will be involved in a par-ticular criminal activity, such as dealing crackcocaine, are now more likely to be made thebasis for substantial disparities in treatmentthan they were before strategic emphasis wasput on the unregulated areas of police conduct.Then, even if members of group X were morelikely than others to be selling crack cocaine,the likelihood of any particular member of Xbeing engaged in that conduct is generally sosmall that it could not satisfy probable cause orreasonable suspicion.

Questioning someone (for example, aHispanic youth) on a corner in a way that sug-gests they are not free to leave, which theSupreme Court has allowed,87 or searching acar, or making a street stop of a pedestrian areall likely to be based, to some extent, on theracial or ethnic characteristics that the policebelieve more frequently accompany crimes of

55

Heymann

concern.88 A focus on types of dangerous orcriminal behaviour, rather than on the behav-iour of specific individuals, invites these gener-alisations. It is also at the heart of much of thenew policing. It is in this context that we shouldunderstand the debate about racial profiling.

3.2.3 Respect and civility

Sara Stoutland argues, on the basis of an ethno-graphic study of the reactions of youth and theirolder family members in Boston, that neigh-bourhoods which are subjected to the newpolicing in Boston are pleased with the safety ithas provided but concerned about the absenceof respect shown to the citizens it confronts.One can detect this disparity in the review ofattitudes towards policing in New York andChicago.

This issue is related to, but different from,concerns about equal protection and legallydefined civil liberties. An absence of respectmay be the source of much of the offense givenby a failure to treat certain stigmatised groupsof citizens equally with other groups; but theissue of respect is broader and is applicable topolice interactions with any group of citizens.The difference in treatment between groupsmay be attributable to the political influence ofone group which elicits respectful handling bythe police, while the absence of such influencemay invite less respectful relations for theother. Ethnic or racial bias may not be theissue. An absence of respect also often reflectsa sense that the individual is without rightsagainst the state. But here, too, there is a differ-ence. An officer making a “stop” and thenfrisking a citizen on a crowded street may beacting well within the parameters of reasonablesuspicion that the law imposes, yet the way thestop is made may convey humiliating contemptfor the suspect.

It is becoming very clear that the cause ofmuch violence by youth against other youth is asense of being treated without respect. Theresulting attack is a distorted form of insistenceon being treated with dignity and as “an impor-tant person”. Distinguished police commission-ers, such as Commissioner Evans in Boston,contend that even forcible encounters like astop or arrest can, in most cases, be handled ina way that reflects respect for the suspect.

Police officers in the housing projects ofChicago report that they can make arrests with-

out danger to themselves or others if they treatthe suspect with respect. All of these are practi-cal reasons from the point of view of lawenforcement for insisting on at least the appear-ance of a respectful attitude toward those whoare confronted with real or apparent powers ofthe police.

The issue is at least equally important fromthe point of view of many law-abiding residentsin a neighbourhood for whom a continuingquestion is whether the police are there to sup-port them or to protect people in other areasfrom them or their children. Citizens who feelthemselves and their children the object ofpolicing intended to protect others and who feelthat the steps taken reflect a lack of respect forthem as citizens and individuals, are made tofeel like second-class citizens, used rather thanvalued. They are also taught to fear the policerather than to value their services, an attitudethat creates sympathy for youth in revolt andfrustration for their elders who need protectionbut insist on respect.

Some significant forms of the new policinginvolves dealing with individuals throughimplicit coercion. In New York, signalling thatit is the police who control the streets by “zerotolerance” policing, claiming to decide what isacceptable conduct and what is disorderlybehaviour, and gathering information by “lean-ing on” those who are vulnerable to revocationof parole or probation – all these may beextremely useful steps in creating security butextremely costly in denying respect. In Boston,the gathering of information by relatively coer-cive questioning on the streets, accompanied byconveying some notion of the power of com-puterised retrieval of such information, canhave the same beneficial and harmful effects.

All of this activity is designed to take placebeneath the radar screen of judicial review,another consequence that Chief Justice Warrenanticipated when reviewing powers to stop andfrisk. The effects on the citizens in the neigh-bourhood and on their attitudes towards thepolice are captured in the statistical assessmentsof policing in Chicago and New York.

3.2.4 The Task of the future: keeping the

security advantages of the new policing

while reducing its risks to civil liberties

There is every reason to believe that the greatmajority of people in almost every city and the

56

Heymann

clear majority of those in the neighbourhoodsmost threatened by both insecurity and the risksto civil liberties would, if forced to choose, pre-fer the new forms of policing. The advantagesof personal security are that great. Indeed, asnoted above, a majority of the residents ofsome Chicago housing projects were preparedto give up their right to refuse to have theirapartments searched without probable cause inthe interests of greater personal security.89

But the choice should not be so stark. Uses ofdiscretion that are beneath the level of visibilityto courts can be the subject of departmentalregulation. The reliance on the exclusionaryrule as a primary sanction need not mean that itis the exclusive sanction. What we need, inshort, is a regulatory system with other sanc-tions and new rules. We must find ways to haveboth civil liberties and security.

Consider some examples of new forms ofregulation. The problem of changed relation-ships between the citizen and the state, betweenthe resident and the police officer, could beaddressed, in part, by requiring the police tomake clear when they are asserting authorityand when they are simply making a request tostop or submit to a search. The Supreme Courthas ruled that this is not required by theConstitution.90 But the practice of takingadvantage of a citizen’s ignorance of his/herrights or his/her unfounded fears remains sub-ject to political review and it is unwise in lightof an increasing emphasis on control of thestreets and the gathering of information byinformal means. Efforts to keep track of thepercentage of black, Hispanic, and white, non-Hispanic drivers of cars that are stopped and tomake those figures available publicly are regu-latory steps that can have major consequenceson a sense of discrimination.91 Keeping track ofthe number of complaints against any officerfor disrespectful behaviour can be an importantstep in encouraging respect, particularly if it isaccompanied by appropriate training.

Most rules require some sanctions if they areto be taken seriously. For behaviour that is notgenerally designed to elicit evidence for crimi-nal trials – the situation with regard to much ofthe new policing – the exclusionary rule isplainly an inadequate sanction. Nor is theremuch promise in the form of civil law suits,which are likely to be much too costly for rem-edying the risks to civil liberties in the multi-

tude of “low visibility” occurrences that are atissue. Administrative discipline under rules thatare more manageable is one likely solution.

Regulatory schemes require credibility andcredibility often requires some form of externaloversight, not of individual administrativedeterminations but of the adequacy of the func-tioning of the administrative system, as NewYork’s Mollen Commission suggested someyears ago. In the past decade independent part-nerships like that between the Boston PoliceDepartment and the Ten Point Coalition havebenefited both organisations and the city as awhole. By blending criticism with approval, theCoalition has helped cultivate the police pro-grammes that are responsible for Boston’sremarkable success. Significantly, the fruits ofthis effort – the drop in youth homicide, druguse, and overall crime – are nowhere moreapparent than on the streets of Dorchester andRoxbury, where furore over police abuse firsterupted.

Relationships like this one help fill the voidleft by the erosion of judicial oversight. Theyare, however, comparatively rare. An unfortu-nate series of events, coupled with an unprece-dented willingness by Boston’s police chiefsand black ministers to work together, broughtabout this unlikely partnership. Its enduringnature testifies to their commitment and mutualdependence. As in other cities, there are stilltensions between officers and the minority resi-dents whom Ten Point represents. This frictionassures each organisations’ independence.What remains to be seen is whether cities likeNew York, in the wake of outrage over assaultslike those on Abner Louima and AmadouDiallo, will be willing to reach out as Bostondid following the Carol Stuart murder and the“stop-and-frisk scandal” in the early1990s.

These suggestions are meant to be illustra-tive, far from comprehensive. The central ideais that new rules are required to regulate thenew policing and that these cannot take theform of judicial review of the admissibility ofevidence. They probably cannot depend primar-ily on any form of judicial sanctions for viola-tions of the rules, both because the rules will bedeveloped administratively and because theywill regulate forms of behaviour that have longbeen considered too subtle to justify judicialreview. What we need is the acceptance of newforms of responsibility for civil liberties by

57

Heymann

police agencies involved in the forms of newpolicing. Credible oversight must involve those

outside of the police but it would be of process-es and structures, not of individual cases.

ENDNOTES

1) See Bureau of Justice Statistics, US Dep’tof Justice, Homicide Trends in the UnitedStates § 2 (2000) (visited February 27,2000) http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/homi-cide/hmrt.htm

2) See Global Report on Crime and Justice313–14 (Grame Newman ed., 1999) (list-ing homicide rates for more than threedozen industrial countries as reported infive United Nations surveys between 1974and 1993).

3) See Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S.Dep’t of Justice, Homicide Trends in theUnited States § 3 (2000) (visited February27, 2000) http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/homicide/oage.txt

4) See, e.g., Tom Farmer, Violent CrimesPlunge in U.S., Boston Herald, Aug. 28,2000, at 1 (noting that Boston had alreadysurpassed its 1999 murder total, and thatpolice had reported a 13% increase inshootings); Brett Martel, Murder on Risein Major Cities, Chicago Sun-Times, June23, 2000, at 26 (reporting that murders hadincreased over 1999 in Baltimore, Boston,Dallas, Los Angeles, New Orleans, NewYork, and Philadelphia); Don Terry, In aTurn of the Tide, Bloodshed Rises in LosAngeles, N.Y. Times, July 11, 2000, atA14 (reporting a 7.5% increase in violentcrime over 1999 in Los Angeles, includingmore murders, rapes, and robberies, butnoting that “with only a few exceptions,violent crime is down nationwide”). But

see, e.g., Eric Lipton, Giuliani Pulls HisCharts out for a Review of New York,N.Y. Times, Sept. 15, 2000, at B9 (“In thefirst six months of this year, crimes in theseven major categories fell 7.8%” in NewYork City); Terry, supra (noting that “withonly a few exceptions, violent crime isdown nationwide” as of July 2000).

5) See Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S.Dep’t of Justice, National CrimeVictimisation Survey, 9tbl.7http://www.ojp.usdoj.gov/bjs/pub/pdf/cv98.pdf (reporting sharp decline in propertycrimes); see id. at 11 & 11 tbl.8 (reportingdecline for specific demographic groups).

6) See Keith Bradsher, Fear of CrimeTrumps the Fear of Lost Youth, N.Y.

Times, Nov. 21, 1999, at D37) See Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S. Dep’t

of Justice, Sourcebook of Criminal Justice

Statistics – 1997, at 245 tbl.3.82 (1998).8) See Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S.

Dep’t of Justice, Sourcebook of Criminal

Justice Statistics – 1996, at 528 tbl.6.30(1997).

9) See Pratt v. Chicago Hous. Auth., 848 F.Supp. 792, 796 - 97 (N.D. Ill. 1994);Tracey L. Meares & Dan M. Kahan, Lawand (Norms of) Order in the Inner City, 32L. & Soc’y Rev. 805, (1998).

10) Compare Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S.Dep’t of Justice, Criminal Victimisationand Perceptions of Community Safety in12 Cities, 1998, at 9 (1999) (reporting that

58

Heymann

New York’s murder rate fell 65.8%between 1990 and 1997), with id. (report-ing that San Diego’s murder rate fell53.3% during the same period), and id.(reporting that Los Angeles’s murder ratefell 42.2% during the same period).

11) See Marc Lacey, Teen-Age Birth Rate inU.S. Falls Again, N.Y. Times, Oct. 27,1999, at A16.

12) See Judith Havemann, Birthrate Drops forTeens of All Races, Wash. Post, May 1,1998, at A1 (reporting a 20.6% drop forblack teens during that period).

13) See Bureau of the Census, U.S. Dep’t ofCommerce, U.S. Census Bureau HistoricalPoverty Tables – People tbl.3, (visitedMar. 23, 2000) http://www.census.gov/hhes/poverty/histpov/hstpov3.html.

14) See National Center for EducationStatistics, Digest of Education Statistics1998 at 17tbl.8 (1998).

15) See Fox Butterfield, Drop in HomicideRate Linked to Crack’s Decline, N.Y.

Times, Oct. 27, 1997, at A12 (reporting ona Justice Department study finding that the“waning of the crack cocaine epidemic”was the “most important reason” for thedrop in homicide rates through the 1990s).

16) The Boston case study set out in this vol-ume provides an excellent example.

17) See John J. Donohue III & Steven D.Levitt, Legalised Abortion and Crime, 115Q. J. Econ. (forthcoming 2000).

18) See, e.g., Daniel Kessler & Steven D.Levitt, Using Sentence Enhancements toDistinguish Between Deterrence andIncapacitation, 42 J.L. & Econ. 343, 346(1999) (employing a novel approach toseparating incapacitation effects fromdeterrence effects, and finding that the lat-ter were “nontrivial” for a series of 1982sentence enhancements in California).

19) See Alfred Blumstein & RichardRosenfeld, Explaining Recent Trends inU.S. Homicide Rates, 88 J. Crim. L. &

Criminology 1175, 1196 (1998); see alsoid. at 1194 fig.6b, 1195 fig.6c.

20) See id. at 1196.21) See Office of Juvenile Justice and

Delinquency Prevention, 1996 National

Youth Gang Survey 32 (1999).22) Lawrence W. Sherman, Policing for Crime

Prevention, in Preventing Crime: What

Works, What Doesn’t, What’s Promising:

A Report to the United States Congress

(Lawrence W. Sherman et al. eds., 1997).23) Evidence of epidemics of crime when

police are on strike.24) See Sherman, supra note 22, at 8-11.25) See id. at 8-11 – 8-13 (citing, e.g., Robert

Trojanowicz, Evaluating a NeighbourhoodFoot Patrol Programme: The Flint,Michigan Project, in Community Crime

Prevention: Does It Work? (DennisRosenbaum ed., 1986).

26) See id. at 8-3 – 8-4 (citing epidemiologicalstudies showing that crime is localised).

27) See id. at 8-15 (citing Lawrence W.Sherman & David A. Weisburd, GeneralDeterrence Effects of Police Patrol inCrime “Hot Spots”: A Randomised,Controlled Trial, 12 Just. Q. 625 (1995)).

28) See id. at 8-20 – 8-21 (citing Susan Martin& Lawrence W. Sherman, SelectiveApprehension: A Police Strategy forRepeat Offenders, 24 Criminology 55(1986) (Washington); Allan F. Abrahamseet al., An Experimental Evaluation of thePhoenix Repeat Offender Programme 8Just. Q. 141 (1991) (Phoenix)).

29) See id. at 8-24 (citing James W. Shaw,Community Policing Against Crime:Violence and Firearms (unpublished Ph.D.dissertation, University of Maryland(College Park)) (guns); Ross Homel,Random Breath Testing and RandomStopping Programmes in Australia, inDrinking and Driving: Advances in

Research and Prevention (R.J. Wilson &R. Mann eds., 1990) (drunk driving)).

30) See id. at 8-31 (citing Lawrence W.Sherman et al., National Institute of

Justice, The Kansas City Gun Experiment

(1995)).31) See id. at 8-16, 8-18 (citing, e.g., Malcolm

Klein, Labelling Theory and DelinquencyPolicy: An Empirical Test, 13 Crim. Just.

& Behav. 47 (1986)).32) See id. at 8-19 (citing several studies).33) See id. at 8-25 – 8-26.34) See id. at 8-26, 8-29 (citing an unpub-

lished study).35) See 42 U.S.C. § 3796dd (Public Safety

Partnership and Community Policing Actof 1994, Pub. L. 103-322, Title I, Sept. 13,1994, 108 Stat. 1807).

59

Heymann

36) NIJ Papers (ordered).37) Report of the Commissioner of Police of

the Metropolis 6 (1999).38) This sense that traditional modes of polic-

ing were ineffective also coincided withthe rise of privately funded security. Thecausal link between the former and the lat-ter is certainly open to question, however,as privately funded security has growninexorably for many years now. See DavidA. Sklansky, The Private Police, 46 UCLA

L. Rev. 1165, 1175 (1999).39) See Herman Goldstein, Problem-Oriented

Policing (1990).40) See Ronald V. Clarke, Situational Crime

Prevention: Its Theoretical Basis andPractical Scope, in Crime and Justice: An

Annual Review of Research, vol. 4,(Michael Tonry and Norval Morris, eds.1983).

41) Lawrence Sherman et. al, Hot Spots ofPredatory Crime: Routine Activities andthe Criminology of Place, 27 Criminology

27 (1989).42) Wesley G. Skogan, et al. On the Beat:

Police and Community Problem Solving

16-18 (1999).43) NIJ Papers 1993.44) See, e.g., Wesley G. Skogan & Michael G.

Maxfield, Coping With Crime: Individual

and Neighbourhood Reactions (1981)WID-LC HV6791.S56; Wesley G.Skogan, Disorder and Decline : Crime

and the Spiral of Decay in American

Neighbourhoods (1990) HV 6791.S571990.

45) See, e.g., Clifford R. Shaw & Henry D.McKay, Juvenile Delinquency in Urban

Areas (1942); Robert E. Park, HumanEcology, 42 American Journal of

Sociology 1 (1937); Ernest Burgess, TheGrowth of the City, in The City (Robert E.Park & Ernest Burgess, eds., 1925).

46) R. J. Sampson, S. W. Raudenbush, & F.Earls Neighbourhoods and violent crime:A multilevel study of collective efficacy,277(5328) Science 918–924 (Aug. 15,1997); R. J. Sampson, J. Morenoff, & F.Earls, Beyond Social Capital: SpatialDynamics of Collective Efficacy forChildren, 64 Amer. Sociol. Rev. 633–660(Oct. 1999).

47) In the CAPS model, a “problem” is under-

stood as a recurring situation or series ofrelated incidents (unlikely to be resolvedon their own) that affect a significant por-tion of the community and can possibly beaffected by the resources of the communi-ty and the police. See Skogan, et al., On

the Beat, at 35. 48) For CAPS purposes, the city’s 25 police

districts were divided into 279 beats, with9 to 15 beats per district. In 1990, theaverage beat included 3600 households, orabout 9500 residents. See id. at 58.

49) Wesley G. Skogan and Elizabeth M.Hartnett, Community Policing, Chicago

Style 113 (1997).50) See id. at 55.51) Skogan, et al., On the Beat at 30 (“Latinos

were distinctly concerned about gangs andpoor people about the physical decay oftheir neighbourhoods. Concern aboutsocial disorder was highest in the middleof the income distribution–above theneighbourhoods that were blighted bydrugs and gangs but below the best-offplaces, which had fewer problems of allkinds to report.”).

52) Together We Can: A Strategic Plan forReinventing the Chicago PoliceDepartment 17 (1993); Skogan, et al., On

the Beat at 59.53) Beat teams consist of the officers who

work in the same beat covering all three,eight-hour shifts. Each team has roughlynine officers. See id. at 59.

54) See id. at 60.55) Skogan, et al., On the Beat at 41, 47.56) See id. at 36, 41.57) See id. at 30.58) Id. at 191.59) See id. at 192–94.60) See id. at 194–95.61) Id. at 195–205.62) James Q. Wilson & George L. Kelling,

Broken Windows, Atlantic Monthly,29–38 (March 1982).

63) Bernard E. Harcourt, Reflecting on theSubject: A Critique of the Social InfluenceConception of Deterrence, the BrokenWindows Theory, and Order-MaintenancePolicing New York Style, 97 Mich. L. Rev.

291, 293 (1998) (“[I]t is today practicallyimpossible to find a single scholarly arti-cle that takes issue with the quality-of-life

60

Heymann

initiative. It stands, in essence, uncontest-ed – even in the legal academy.”)

64) Id. at 327.65) Id. at 327 – 28 (identifying this relation-

ship between disorder and both burglaryand physical assault). Indeed, the onlycrime significantly related to disorder oncepoverty, race, and stability were held con-stant was robbery. But when Harcourtremoved a cluster of five Newark neigh-bourhoods from the data, and held pover-ty, race, and stability constant, he foundno relationship between disorder and rob-bery victimisation. Id. at 328 – 29.

66) Id. at 329 – 31 (finding inconclusive asimilar study on the relationship betweencrime and disorder, Robert Sampson &Jacqueline Cohen, Deterrent Effects of thePolice on Crime: A Replication andTheoretical Extension, 22 Law & Soc’y

Rev. 163 (1988)); id. at 331 – 39 (suggest-ing a number of factors, as alternatives tothe quality-of-life initiative, to explain thedecline in New York City’s crime rates).

67) Id. at 329.68) See David C. Anderson, Crime Stoppers,

N.Y. Times, February 9, 1997, at Section6, page 47 (describing the CompStat sys-tem).

69) See Harvey Simon & John Buntin, TheEast New York Urban Youth Corps andCommunity Policing: A New Initiative inthe “Dead Zone”, Kennedy School ofGovernment Case Programme (1999);John Buntin, The Community SecurityInitiative Gets Underway, KennedySchool of Government Case Programme(1998).

70) See Bureau of Justice Statistics, U.S.Dep’t of Justice, Criminal Victimisationand Perceptions of Community Safety in12 Cities, 1998, at 25 tbl. 34 (1999.

71) See Fox Butterfield, Cities Reduce Crimeand Conflict Without New York-StyleHardball, N.Y. Times, Mar. 4, 2000, at A1(noting that according to ProfessorBlumstein, New York’s homicide rate fell70.6% from 1991 to 1998, while Boston’sfell 69.3%).

72) See David M. Kennedy, Pulling Levers:Chronic Offenders, High-Crime Settings,and a Theory of Prevention, 31 Val. U. L.

Rev. 449 (1997).

73) Id. at 461 (footnote omitted).74) Crime and Disorder Act of 1998, (31 July

1998), Royal Assent 27 July 1999.75) See Louise Potterton, Germany Pursues

Holocaust Avengers, London Sunday

Telegraph, October 10, 1999.76) U.S. Department of Justice, Bureau of

Justice Statistics, Criminal Victimisationand Perceptions of Community Safety in12 Cities, 1998, NCJ 173940, at 12, 18(May 1999).

77) See Mapp v. Ohio, 367 U.S. 643, 655(1961).

78) See Terry v. Ohio 392 U.S. 1, 21 (1968).79) See Papichristou v. City of Jacksonville,

405 U.S. 156, 162 (1972).80) United States v. Robinson 414 U.S. 218

(1973).81) Eliot Spitzer, The New York City Police

Department’s “Stop & Frisk” Practices: AReport to the People of the State of NewYork from the Office of the AttorneyGeneral, at 69–72, 160–74, December 1,1999.

82) Tracey L Meares & Dan M. Kahan, Lawand (Norms of) Order in the Inner City, 32Law & Society Review 805, 830 (1998).

83) 392 U.S. 1 (1968).84) See Joseph P. Fried & Blaine Harden, The

Louima Case: The Overview–Officer isGuilty in Torture of Louima, N.Y. Times,June 9, 1999, at A1 (conviction); JaneFritsch, The Diallo Verdict: TheOverview–4 Officers in Diallo Shootingare Acquitted of all Charges, N.Y. Times,February 26, 2000, at A1 (acquittal).

85) See Spitzer, supra note 81 at 111.86) Id. at 119, 123.87) See, e.g., United States v. Mendenhall,

446 U.S. 544 (1980); Florida v. Royer,460 U.S. 491 (1983); ); Florida v. Bostick,501 U.S. 429 (1991).

88) United States v. Weaver, 966 F.2d 391(1992).

89) See Tracey L. Meares & Dan M. Kahan,When Rights are Wrong, Boston Review, 4April/May 1999.

90) See Schneckloth v. Bustamonte, 412 U.S.218 (1973); Florida v. Bostick, 501 U.S.429 (1991).

91) See Police Tactics in Question: ‘Stop andFrisk’ in New York, N.Y. Times,December 4, 1999, at A16.

INTRODUCTIONIn deeply divided societies, whether they havebeen subject to minority or majority rule, thequestion of justice tends to be hotly debated.How institutions for the maintenance of lawand order are viewed in any society has a largebearing on how they function. Thus, in a soci-ety where the authorities are viewed almostuniversally as legitimate, it is possible for thelaw to be enforced effectively by a police forcethat uses a minimum degree of physical coer-cion in the vast majority of cases. This is due tothe fact that police officers will be able to relyon the cooperation of most members of society,and their authority will rarely be challengedwhen they are required to use it to compel obe-dience. The very fact that the authorities areable to maintain order effectively, usually with-out violating the rights of members of the soci-ety or, to put it more simply, without routinelymeting out rough treatment to possible suspectsand witnesses, tends to reinforce their legitima-cy. By contrast, in any situation where theauthorities are not seen as legitimate by a sec-tion of society, it is very difficult for the law tobe enforced without resorting to physical coer-cion. Furthermore, the brutal enforcement oflaw and order by means of such actions tendsto reinforce its lack of legitimacy. This per-spective will affect both those on the receivingend of such treatment as well as those who feelthreatened by it.

1. THE RULE OF LAW MODELIn relatively homogeneous or moderatelydivided societies, what can conveniently belabelled the “rule of law” model for maintain-

ing order is possible. This model provides amechanism for the criminalisation of violence,as that term is understood by most members ofa society. It requires a judicial authority thatstands over society, employing the resources ofthe state to enforce its judgements which aredirected against individuals. Thus, for the pur-poses of judicial authority, society consists ofindividuals and, if any individual transgressesthe rules of society, he or she is punished. Forexample, in a simple case of A attacking B, thestate, through the criminal justice system, takesaction against A which concludes the matter. Inreality, society may be faced with victim B, butwill have difficulty in establishing the identityof A. The system has to be sufficiently reliablein punishing the guilty without transgressingthe rights of innocent people if it is to retaingeneral public confidence.

Also important to the functioning of the ruleof law model is the principle of “equalitybefore the law”. This principle is, however,often not universally upheld in practice, pre-cisely because no society is composed of a setof equal individuals. The rich and the well-con-nected generally fare better than the poorand/or those from groups with low status insociety. In both the United States (US) andmainland Britain, racial minorities have consis-tently been poorly treated by the criminal jus-tice system. The Rodney King case in the USand the Stephen Lawrence case in Britain havehighlighted the persistence of this problem dur-ing the 1990s. No effective solutions werearrived at following these incidences, despitethe outward political consensus in both soci-eties that people should be treated equally

61

Crime, Justice and the Legacy of the Past

Adrian Guelke

62

Guelke

before the law, regardless of race. For the mostpart, however, in moderately divided societies,cross-cutting cleavages of one kind or anothertend to limit the influence of group loyalties onthe function of the criminal justice system,enough for the rule of law model to retain itscredibility.

2. HORIZONTALLY DIVIDED COMMUNITIESIn the case of deeply divided societies, a dis-tinction needs to be drawn between societiesdivided horizontally between a dominant and asubordinate community, and those divided ver-tically. The former case will be considered first.Where a society is polarised between a domi-nant and a subordinate community, an individu-al’s membership of one or the other group is amatter of critical importance and will affecthow he/she is treated. The simple case of Aattacking B typically results in four differentpossibilities, which give rise to four very differ-ent outcomes. If A and B are both members ofthe dominant community then somethingapproximating to the process of justice underthe rule of law model is likely, with A beingcriminalised as an individual. If A and B areboth members of the subordinate community,the most likely response of the authorities isone of indifference since servicing the needs ofthe subordinate community tends to be a lowpriority.

In the case where A – the perpetrator – is partof the dominant community and B – the victim– is from the subordinate community, the biasof the criminal justice system towards the dom-inant community will operate in favour of theaccused, should matters even reach that point.Almost regardless of the precise circumstancesof the case, the accused can expect lenienttreatment. It will be judged, not in the contextof the interaction of individuals, but in the lightof the dominant community’s fear of resistanceby the subordinate community to its status. Anyevidence that B was behaving in a provocativemanner, from the standpoint of members of thedominant community, will usually be sufficientto ensure A’s acquittal.

By contrast, if A – the perpetrator – is amember of the subordinate community and B –the victim – a member of the dominant commu-nity, the accused can expect to be extremelyseverely punished. Every dominant communi-ty’s nightmare is that the most vulnerable mem-

bers of its community will be physicallyassaulted by members of the subordinate com-munity. When such instances occur there isinvariably a call for exemplary punishment –both to assert the dominant community’s powerand to deter further attacks.

Apartheid South Africa abounds with exam-ples of differential justice as described in thefour examples above. The relative indifferenceof the authorities to crime in the townshipsexplains one of the paradoxes of the apartheidera: that South Africa had a relatively smallpolice force in relation to its population,notwithstanding the image of the country as apolice state.1 Under apartheid, the townshipsproved a breeding ground for self-help andinformal methods of justice, precisely becauseof the ineffectiveness of state efforts to combatcrime. The priorities of the police were to pro-tect the white suburbs against crime and thestate against political subversion. Punishmentin rape cases hinged critically on the race ofperpetrator and victim, with the death penaltyapplied to black rapists. Thus, from 1911 to1968, only two of the 132 people executed forthe crime of rape, were white. In both thesecases the victims were also white.

The unequal enforcement of the law providesone of the principal means by which a domi-nant community maintains its hegemony over asubordinate community. As long as the domi-nant community is able to maintain its hegemo-ny, such societies may appear orderly and polit-ically stable, even to the outside observer.Indeed, dominant communities frequently asso-ciate the condition of peace with acquiescenceby the subordinate community which holds aninferior social position. The initial reaction ofmembers of the dominant community to chal-lenges from “subordinates” is therefore frequently a desire to restore tranquillity bysuppressing the insurgents. Reform in these cir-cumstances is fraught with difficulty. This isparticularly so if, in the context of attempting toestablish the principle of equality before thelaw, the legal authorities are perceived as fail-ing to punish sufficiently severely violent actsby members of the subordinate communitydirected at those above them. The danger thenexists that some members of the dominant com-munity will take the law into their own hands.In circumstances where the balance of power isshifting from one community to another, such

63

Guelke

reactions may set off a vicious circle of retalia-tion and retribution.

3. VERTICALLY DIVIDED COMMUNITIESFrank Wright coined the expression “represen-tative violence” to describe violence in situa-tions where the victims of violence are per-ceived as being chosen, not because of theirindividual characteristics, but because they areidentified as representing a group of people.2

Societies that are vertically divided rather thanhorizontally may also be prone to the creationof cycles of violence and the institutionalisationof representative violence. The effects of con-flict among vertically segmented groups can bejust as devastating as those that arise due to thebreakdown of a dominant group’s hegemony.The case of the former Yugoslavia, where nosingle community occupied a dominant posi-tion during the years of Communist rule,demonstrates this tendency. Indeed, thestrength of ethno-nationalism in each ethnicgroup was a reflection of a perception commonto all of Yugoslavia’s nationalities: that mem-bers of each group had been disadvantaged inone way or another under Communism.

Subordination of all indigenous communitiesunder colonial rule also tends to produce verti-cal lines of division. Even when one group ismuch larger than the other – as in the conflictbetween Greeks and Turks in Cyprus and thatbetween Sinhalese and Tamils in Sri Lanka –the larger ethnic group does not see itself, or inpractice constitute, a dominant group. In fact, adominant group may constitute a minority ofthe population, as the example of South Africaunder apartheid demonstrates. In the case ofboth Northern Ireland and Israel/Palestine, thedominant community forms a majority of thepopulation. However, in both these instances afactor contributing to the fearful, siege mentali-ty of the dominant community is the perceptionthat it forms a minority within a wider frame-work: that of the island in the case of NorthernIreland Protestants and that of the Middle Eastas a region in the case of Israeli Jews.

Deeply divided societies are characterised bya lack of consensus on the framework for deci-sion making, and a contested political processin which the legitimacy of its laws is chal-lenged by one segment of society. In the case ofa vertically divided society, the strategy of thedisaffected community (or communities) is

likely to be directed primarily at an exit fromthe state through secession, partition or unionwith another state. In the case of horizontallysegmented societies, the issue of equality oftenbecomes a priority among the subordinate com-munity. Northern Ireland provides an interest-ing instance in which the subordinate commu-nity maintains an aspiration to a united Ireland,but in which its political representatives havebeen willing to accept arrangements guarantee-ing its equality within the existing contestedboundaries, as the basis of a historic compro-mise with the dominant community. Ironically,it has been the dominant community that hasbeen the more reluctant to accept the settlementcontained in the Belfast Agreement, eventhough it involves acceptance of separationfrom Southern Ireland until/unless there is amajority vote in favour of a united Ireland.

4. VIGILANTISMA common characteristic of deeply horizontallydivided societies is that the state’s monopoly oflegitimate violence is contested by the subordi-nate community. At best, members of a subor-dinate community may acquiesce in the opera-tion of the state’s institutions on the grounds oftheir community’s powerlessness. Just asimportant within a horizontally divided com-munity is the fact that the dominant communityoften has different attitudes towards issues offorce and violence to those found in societieswhere a consensus on these issues exists. Thisstems from the dominant community’s percep-tion of the existence of a serious challenge tothe legitimacy of the state from the subordinatecommunity. Rosenbaum and Sederberg use theterm, “vigilantism”3 to describe pro-status quoviolence which differs from force or legitimateviolence in that it operates openly, counter tothe law. What is characteristic of vigilantes istheir distrust of the process of maintainingorder through the criminalisation of individualperpetrators following a fair trial in the courts.

Vigilantes appear from time to time in politi-cally stable liberal-democracies when the crim-inal justice system appears ineffective in deal-ing with ordinary crime. The Guardian Angelspatrolling the subway in New York are anexample. In deeply divided societies, however,fighting crime may form a nominal justificationfor the activities of vigilantes, but their real –and, often openly declared – aim is to quell the

64

Guelke

political assertiveness of the subordinate com-munity. In any event, a feature of deeply divid-ed societies is that maintaining order, includingcombating crime, tends to be seen as synony-mous with keeping members of the subordinatecommunity “in their place”. The greater theperceived threat from the subordinate commu-nity, the more aggressively violent vigilantesfrom the dominant community tend to be. Atthe height of Northern Ireland’s troubles,Loyalist paramilitary organisations engaged ina campaign of random sectarian assassinations.A widely used slogan was “Any Catholic willdo”. Members of the Afrikaner Weerstands-bewing (AWB – Afrikaner resistance move-ment) in South Africa were responsible for anumber of random attacks on black civilians inthe period leading up to and including the coun-try’s first democratic elections. But by far thebest known example of white supremacist vigi-lante organisations is the American Ku KluxKlan, which fiercely resisted the civil rightsmovement in the 1960s, particularly in theDeep South.

5. COMMUNAL DETERRENCEVigilantism is the most extreme form of a muchlarger pattern of behaviour by members ofdominant communities in deeply divided soci-eties, as is encapsulated by Frank Wright’sterm, “communal deterrence”.4 Historically,another such mechanism was segregation,which was not just an assertion of racial preju-dice or even primarily intended to satisfyatavistic attitudes in the dominant community.Rather, its chief purpose was to disempower thesubordinate community through denying itsmembers access to the full resources of society.One of the milder forms of communal deter-rence is the summer parades of the OrangeOrder in Northern Ireland. Originally, theseparades were a method by which Protestantsasserted their dominance over Catholics innorth-east Ireland, using marches that purpo-sively traversed Catholic areas. While themarches were ritualistic displays of aggression,they served the purpose of uniting Protestantsand underlining sectarian divisions. However,their primary objective was to remind Catholicsof their subordinate position in society. Thefear behind this objective was encapsulated inthe Orange song which called on “Croppies” to“lie down”. Croppies is a colloquial expression

for Catholics derived from the rebellion of1798 when the rebels earned this nicknamebecause of the way they cut their hair. Theparades of the Orange Order are still a cause ofimmense civil disturbance in Northern Irelandtoday, although they now only pass throughCatholic areas in a relatively small number ofinstances. Nevertheless, controversy over theroutes of Orange marches was the cause of riot-ing in Northern Ireland in the summers of 1995,1996, 1997, 1998 and 2000.

Metropolitan authorities (whether one isreferring to the Federal government of the USin relation to the Deep South, the governmentin London in relation to Northern Ireland or animperial centre in relation to the activities ofsettlers on a periphery) generally condemnmechanisms of communal deterrence. Theyrightly see them as obstacles to the integrationof members of a subordinate community as fulland equal citizens of the state, and to the estab-lishment of the “rule of law” model of orderingsociety. Communal deterrence is also an obsta-cle to the efforts of reformers when the hege-mony of a dominant community can no longerbe sustained due to demographic or other rea-sons. Even when the mechanisms of communaldeterrence themselves are, however, disman-tled, the mentality that underpins them may sur-vive. This is illustrated by the penal policies ofthe southern states of the US, particularly thepolitical support within the white communityfor capital punishment. In fact, the siege men-tality of dominant communities or formerlydominant communities often remains remark-ably persistent, even after radical politicalchange has taken place.

6. THE LEGACY OF THE PASTThe political representatives of subordinatecommunities usually emphasise that their goalis equality of status between members of differ-ent communities, rather than a reversal of rolesin which the formerly subordinate communitybecomes the dominant community and viceversa. Of course, in practice, if the subordinatecommunity outnumbers the dominant commu-nity, equality will result in representatives ofthe former wielding the majority of the politicalpower. This may be balanced by the continuinginfluence of the dominant community in otherfields, particularly economic. Partly for thatreason, even if the ideology of the new ruling

65

Guelke

party rejects the old lines of societal division,the subordinate community’s experience of dis-crimination, and of being on the receiving endof aggressive coercion by the dominant com-munity in the past, is likely to colour its attitudein the new status quo. The furore created by theNicholas Steyn case in South Africa is a goodillustration of this point. The polarisation ofopinion on the case along racial lines demon-strates how difficult it is to escape the legacy ofthe past in relation to attitudes towards the jus-tice system.

CONCLUSIONInter-communal violence creates “force fields”,the effects of which can be very resilient.Violence in the Balkans during the 1990s owesmuch to the revival of “force fields” createdduring the Second World War. In particular,memories of the mass killing of Serbs inCroatian concentration camps in the 1940s hashad a major influence on Serbian resistance tothe re-drawing of boundaries in the Balkans.The new boundaries would leave Serbs asminorities in a number of independent statesdominated by other ethnic groups. From theperspective of other ethnic groups, however,the blame for conflict in the Balkans lies withthe aggressive attempts by Serbs, led byMilosevic, to carve a Greater Serbia out of thebreak-up of the former Yugoslavia. In reality,these views are simply different sides of thesame coin. However, one should not underesti-mate the importance of interpretations on theinitiation of violence. Perceptions of who threw

the first stone may have a profound bearing onexternal views of the legitimacy of contendingparties in a conflict.

The language used to justify violence pro-vides a strong indication of the existence of a“force field”. Terms commonly used in the con-text of inter-communal conflicts include “retali-ation”, “deterrence”, “pre-emptive strikes”,“holding the line”, “clearing the decks”, “col-lective punishment”, “tit for tat”, “exemplaryactions”, “exacting a price” and “reprisal”. Theterminology is similar to that used by states inthe context of war. It is also worth noting thatthe language used when the killing stops alsotends to follow that which is used during war,so there is a “cease-fire”, “a truce”, “a cessa-tion”, “a pause” or “a suspension of hostilities”.The image is one of two armies facing eachother and ready to re-engage. Unfortunately,this may not be far from the truth. When a soci-ety has been magnetised by the existence of a“force field”, a single incident may trigger acycle of violence, re-igniting the conflict. In sit-uations in which irreversible political changehas taken place and a new order established, thedanger is somewhat different. The possibilitythen exists that the effectiveness and legitimacyof the new dispensation will be undermined byresponses that continue to reflect the “forcefield” that existed under the old order. In addi-tion, if the era of transition is characterised byboth continuing and freshly created social andeconomic inequalities, the difficulties of estab-lishing a “rule of law” justice model areincreased.

1) See, for example, Gavin Cawthra, Policing

South Africa: The South African Police and

the Transition from Apartheid, Zed Books:London and New Jersey, 1993, p.4.

2) See Frank Wright, Northern Ireland: A

Comparative Analysis, Gill and Macmillan:Dublin, 1987, pp.11-2.

3) H. Jon Rosenbaum and Peter C.Sederberg,Vigilantism: An analysis of establishmentviolence in H. Jon Rosenbaum and Peter C.Sederberg (eds), Vigilante Politics,University of Pennsylvania Press:Philadelphia, 1976, pp.4-29.

4) Wright, op. cit., pp.13-20.

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTIONInternational comparisons of crime statisticshave always been considered a difficult task.Not only are criminologists and statisticiansdriven by the desire to compare data on crimein different countries, but policy makers alsoneed to obtain reliable information on howtheir respective countries rank with respect toneighbouring and/or comparable ones.

Over time, many attempts at developinginternational crime statistics have been under-taken, but the final objective still remainsunmet. Direct comparisons between countriesare very difficult and require extreme cautionin order to avoid serious mistakes.

Among the most important problems relatedto the comparison of international crime statis-tics one should consider:• differences in legal systems and definitions

of crimes• levels of efficiency of criminal justice sys-

tems in preventing and controlling crime• different modalities and performance in col-

lecting and recording reported crimes• propensity of victims to report crimes to the

police• economic, political and cultural differences

among countries as well as different levels ofdevelopment, education, urbanisation, etc.

• geographic and climatic differences that mayin part determine lifestyles in different coun-tries

• the difficulty in obtaining data referring tothe same time period from different coun-tries.

Crime statistics from different countries cannottherefore be directly compared. For example, it

is impossible to take crime rates from countryA and compare them with crime rates fromcountry B without a process of standardisationof data. This requires the formulation of stan-dard definitions of crimes that should be com-patible across all the countries to be compared.

Official crime statistics reflect only a portionof all crimes that occur, namely those beingdiscovered by the police or reported by victimsor witnesses. For a number of reasons, manycrimes are not reported and are therefore notincluded in crime statistics (dark figure). Forexample, lack of insurance may mean thatproperty crime is not reported, while fear ofreprisal may play a crucial role in preventingvictims from reporting assault or extortion.

Such an apparent failure at effective compar-ison of crime statistics may on the one handhave frustrated researchers, but on the otherhand has stimulated them to explore new meth-ods for estimating the scope of crime. Officialdata may be integrated with surveys on popula-tion (victim surveys) that may provide addition-al information on crime, crime victims andtheir attitudes toward the police, reporting ratesand reasons for not reporting, fear of crime andcrime prevention measures. Victim surveyswere initially mainly confined to developedcountries, where their assimilation was rela-tively rapid, becoming more focused and regu-lar, while their presence in the developingworld was meagre. Several countries regularlycollect information through surveys such as theBritish Crime Survey and the National CrimeVictimisation Survey in the United States (US).

Surveys on victims of crime, and to a greatextent official crime data, however, deal pri-

69

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime:International Crime Overview

Anna Alvazzi del Frate

70

Alvazzi del Frate

marily with so-called ordinary crime, asopposed to organised crime, crimes against theenvironment, trafficking in persons, moneylaundering and corruption. This type of crime isnot only notoriously under-reported, but is alsostatistically recorded using considerably differ-ent methods in different countries. Organisedcrime remains vaguely defined and to a largedegree subjective, and there is little uniformityacross countries in the relevant statistical cate-gories.

Such crime phenomena are becoming moreand more important and require suitable instru-ments to assess their scope. The developmentof new research methods applicable to “non-conventional” crime will provide additionalinformation on the extent and impact of crimeon citizens and may assist in revealing trends intransnational crime. Integration of data sourcesmay be considered as one of the most promis-ing areas in research on crime statistics (JehleLewis, 1995; Alvazzi del Frate et al., 2000).

1. INTERNATIONAL DATA SOURCES1.1 Administrative statistics

The most important international sources onadministrative crime data are the Interpol statis-tics and the United Nations (UN) CrimeSurveys. Rates per 100 000 population are cal-culated from data provided by each respondingcountry.

Since data recorded in each country relates tocrime categories as defined by respective crimi-nal codes, if definitions do not match, it will beimpossible to compare data. Both sources pro-vide for standard definitions of crimes.Accounting of crime in these surveys – thustheir potential comparability – is as accurate asthe typology of crime is unambiguouslydefined.

1.1.1 Interpol

Since 1950, Interpol compiles crime statisticsfrom a number of countries (presently 115).The data collection form includes broad cate-gories of crime departing from legal definitionsenvisaged by criminal codes. Interpol warnsthat such statistics are not intended for interna-tional comparisons because of different defini-tions, reporting and recording methods. Despitemajor difficulties and gaps in research, Interpolstatistics represent a valuable source of infor-mation.

1.1.2 United Nations Survey on Crime Trends

and Operations of Criminal Justice System (UN

Crime Survey)

The United Nations Survey of Crime Trendsand Operations of Criminal Justice Systems(UN Crime Survey) since 1976 provides com-parable information on recorded crimes from anumber of responding member states. Standarddefinitions of crimes include homicide, assault,rape, robbery, theft, burglary, fraud, corruptionand drug-related crimes. Government agenciesin each responding country provide official dataadjusted to standard definitions. Data on thefifth UN Crime Survey (referring to 1994, with91 responding countries) are available on theInternet,1 while responses to the sixth surveyare presently being validated. Ample analysisof the fifth survey results is published in theGlobal Report on Crime and Justice (Newman,1999). Further analysis can be found inKangaspunta et al., 1998.

1.1.3 Other international sources: European

Sourcebook on Crime and Criminal Justice

Statistics

A group of experts convened by the Council ofEurope at the beginning of the 1990s has devel-oped a model for the collection of comparablecrime and criminal justice statistics in all Coun-cil Member States. The first model was finalisedin 1995 and a report containing 1990–96 datawas released in 1999 (Council of Europe, 1999)with data from 34 European countries. TheEuropean Sourcebook not only makes use ofofficial statistics, but expands information toinclude victim surveys and self-report studiesperformed in the participating countries usingstandard methodology (International CrimeVictim Survey - ICVS and International Self-Report of Delinquency Study).

1.2 Survey data

1.2.1 International Crime Victim Survey (ICVS)

The First International Survey (1989) covered15 developed/industrialised countries, oneEastern European and only one developingcountry. Starting from the second (1992) sur-vey, a growing number of countries joined theproject. As of today, approximately 70 coun-tries have been involved at least once, included20 developing countries.2 The ICVS databasecontains a wealth of information that has noprecedents in the developing world.

71

Alvazzi del Frate

The questionnaire includes sections on 13types of crime, of which each question providesa standard definition. Furthermore, the ques-tionnaire explores whether crimes were report-ed to the police, reasons for not reporting, atti-tudes toward the police, fear of crime and crimeprevention measures.3

2. AN OVERVIEW OF CRIME IN THE WORLD: ONCRIME AND DEVELOPMENT4

The relationship between crime and develop-ment has been the object of many studies overthe years, but no clear conclusion with regardto the effects of socio-economic growth oncrime has ever been reached. On the one hand,traditional belief suggests that technologicalprogress and a more equal distribution of eco-nomic wealth should reduce social conflict.Other theories, however, envisage that socio-economic growth and modernisation necessari-ly involve an increase in overall crime rates, inparticular, crimes against property.5 This theoryis supported by the observation that developedcountries generally show higher theft rates andlower homicide rates than developingcountries.6

However, such conclusions have usuallybeen reached on the basis of official adminis-trative data. A country’s ability to produce reli-able crime statistics also depends on its level ofdevelopment. Lack of resources and technologymay be the cause of scarce capacity and effi-ciency of the police in recording crimes. At the

same time, victims may also be more reluctantto spend time and money in reporting crimes.Finally, “in many developing countries, vic-tims, especially those from lower classes, wantto have as little contact with the police as theycan. Victims would rather suffer the loss orinjury, resort to private or informal initiatives,or report only with great reluctance and fear”.7

These problems related to the reporting ofcrimes are particularly likely to affect properrecording of property crime.

The analysis of the results of the UN CrimeSurvey provides comparable information onrecorded crimes from a number of respondingMember States. In 1990, a study on the findingsof the First and Second UN Crime Surveys8

showed that, as development increases (as mea-sured by gross domestic product per capita), sodoes property crime, while the relationship forviolent crime is inversed.

The Fifth UN Crime Survey provided com-patible data for 1994 on intentional homicideand theft9 from 28 countries ranging from themost to the least developed according to theHuman Development Index (HDI).10 By corre-lating data for homicide and theft with the HDIfor the respective countries, a positive correla-tion with theft rates is found again (r 0.596 N =28), while a negative correlation between homi-cide rates and HDI is also found, albeit weaker(r -0.204 N = 28).

It should be taken into account that homicideis the type of crime that is least sensitive toofficial recording procedures. On the otherhand, the recording of theft depends on thepropensity of citizens to report and the efficien-cy of the police in registering the crime. Inmany affluent societies minor thefts are report-ed only if the property was insured.

Victim surveys have shown that propertycrime is more frequent in developing countriesthan in the rest of the world. In this respect, itcan be said that the correlation found abovebetween official rates of theft and HDI indi-cates rather the existence of a correlationbetween level of development and efficiency ofthe police in recording. In conclusion, the high-er the level of development, the more frequent-ly property crime is recorded in official statis-tics. There is also no strict relationship betweenhomicide rates and development.

Another indication of the need to comple-ment administrative statistics of crime with sur-

Figure 1: Development and Crime.

Correlation between the Human Development

Index, UN Crime Survey and International

Crime Victim Survey (ICVS) for selected

types of crime

UN Crime Survey ICVS

official rates victim survey data

countries = 28 countries = 53

Homicide –0.204 Assault –0.113Theft 0.596 Theft –0.560

Burglary –0.543

Sources: Fifth United Nations Survey on Crime Trends and the

Operations of Criminal Justice System, UNCJIN (rates elabo-

rated by UNICRI); Human Development Report 1997, United

Nations Development Programme, Oxford University Press,

Oxford/New York, 1997; ICVS.

72

Alvazzi del Frate

vey data in order to get accurate information oncrime levels can be obtained through the analy-sis of the category “Total crime per 100 000population” as a result of the UN Crime Survey(Table 1 provides 1997 data). These crime sta-tistics indicate what is recorded as a crime andshow huge variations among countries. Forexample, Scandinavian countries traditionallylead the group with the highest rates per 100 000 population. Again, a positive correla-tion is observed between the data in this tableand HDI (r 0.467 N = 48).

In conclusion, the quality and comparabilityof data sets on crime statistics is still relativelylow. A straightforward comparison of officialstatistics may reveal the following two scenar-ios:

• Countries with less ability to record crimemay rank lower on crime levels (and thuslook “good”).

• Over time, countries improving their abilityto record crime may rank higher on crimelevels (and thus look “bad”).

3. ANALYSIS OF THE ICVS FINDINGSThe ICVS reveals that the levels and effects ofvictimisation are more pronounced in develop-ing countries than in the rest of the world. Theoverall victimisation risk of citizens in develop-ing countries is higher for all property-relatedtypes of crime, while the risk of assault withforce is equal in industrialised countries, coun-tries in transition and the developing world.

Apart from corruption (actual requests forbribes to be paid to public officials for servicesthat should normally be provided for free), theftof personal property was the most frequent typeof victimisation.

The ICVS data on victimisation rates for cor-ruption, theft of personal property, burglary andassault all reveal a negative correlation with theHDI. The more developed the country, the lessfrequent are people victims of corruption (r -0.585 N=53), theft (r -0.560 N=53), burglary(r -0.543 N=53) and, to some extent, robbery andassault (r –0.119 and -0.113, respectively N=53).

Moreover, the reduced capacity to minimisethe effects of victimisation, through insurance,replacement or victim support, increases theburden of crime on victims in the developingworld. These findings support the hypothesisthat crime indeed has a greater effect on citi-zens in developing countries.

Table 1: Total recorded crime, 1997 – rates per 100 000 population

Sweden 13 516 Chile 4396 Fiji 2719 Romania 1601New Zealand 12 591 Italy 4000 Poland 2568 Japan 1507Denmark 10 051 Czech Republic 3917 Tonga 2498 Latvia 1496Belgium 8035 Greece 3591 Ireland 2482 Belarus 1251Germany 8025 Portugal 3234 Argentina 2275 Ukraine 1162Finland 7273 Korea, Rep. of 3041 Lithuania 2046 Croatia 1155Norway 6995 Andorra 3027 Slovenia 1872 Lesotho 1078Bahamas 6688 Bahrain 3011 Singapore 1833 Hong Kong 1070Israel 6276 Bulgaria 2909 Spain 1764 Jordan 1053South Africa 5106 Zimbabwe 2856 Slovakia 1716 Kazakhstan 1047Hungary 5066 Estonia 2809 Tanzania 1688 Moldova 926Switzerland 4769 Maldives 2725 Russian Fed. 1627 Kyrgyzstan 804

Source: UN Centre for International Crime Prevention, “Total recorded crime per 100 000 population”.

This table includes selected countries.

Source: ICVS

Figure 2: Aggregate victimisation rates for

selected crimes over a one-year period in cities

and urban areas (>100 000 pop.). Percentage

of population victimised by type of crime.

73

Alvazzi del Frate

4. REPORTING TO THE POLICEA marked difference between groups of coun-tries was observed with regard to reporting lev-els for various types of crime. As an example,Figure 3 shows that higher reporting rates wereconsistently observed in industrialised countriesfor burglary, robbery and assault. It was alsonoted that the level of satisfaction with thepolice is on average higher in industrialisedcountries. This finding may support the theorythat administrative statistics actually reflect theperformance of the various systems in record-ing crime.

CONCLUSIONDue to the gaps in the data series currentlyavailable, it is difficult to provide unique con-clusions. However, it appears that a few state-ments may hold true:• Crime heavily affects developing countries:

international victim survey data show a nega-tive correlation between HDI and victimisa-tion rates for all types of crime.

• Reporting levels vary across countries and inparticular, less than 50% of crimes are report-ed to the police in the developing world.

• Taking into account the extent of the “darkfigure”, official records of crime do not pre-sent the entire crime picture.

• It is necessary to integrate police records ofcrime with survey data in order to monitorcrime and crime prevention strategies.

• International cooperation is necessary for theharmonisation of data and indicators, the stan-dardisation of concepts, definitions and classi-fications and the dissemination of internation-ally comparable data sets for policy analysis.

• A coherent strategy in this regard shouldinvolve national statistical institutes, min-istries, specialised agencies, and internationalorganisations.

• Trends over time should be monitored care-fully: higher crime rates may depend onimproved ability of the police in recordingcrime.

Above and beyond research and policy needsfor good statistics, there are further concernswith regard to a country’s standing in a com-parative perspective. Higher crime rates in offi-cial statistics may reflect in negative mediareports, which may generate fear of crimeacross the population and negatively affect thepropensity for foreign investments and tourism.On the other hand, poor statistics do not helpeither researchers or effective crime preventionand control.

Source: ICVS

Figure 3: Percentage of crimes reported to

the police and level of satisfaction with overall

police performance, by groups of countries.

74

Alvazzi del Frate

1) http://www.uncjin.org/stats/stats.html2) This group of developing countries

includes surveys conducted in the capitalcities of Argentina, Bolivia, Botswana,Brazil, China, Colombia, Costa Rica,Egypt, India, Indonesia, (Lesotho),(Nigeria), Paraguay, The Philippines,South Africa, (Swaziland), Tanzania,Tunisia, Uganda, Zimbabwe. Countries inbrackets have not been included in theanalysis presented here because of unavail-ability of data at the time of preparation.

3) Analysis of the ICVS results was publishedin van Dijk et al. 1989; Alvazzi del Frate etal. 1993; Zvekic and Alvazzi del Frate1995; Alvazzi del Frate 1998; Hatalak etal. 1998; Mayhew and van Dijk, 1997;Zvekic 1998. The ICVS website address iswww.nscr.nl/icvs

4) Parts of this section have been published inAlvazzi del Frate, 1998.

5) See, for example, Shelley (1981). 6) For example, a study published in the early

1970s (Wolf 1971) observed that, distribut-ing a list of countries according to a seriesof development indicators on a continuum,developed countries showed homicide rateslower than six and theft rates higher than600 per 100 000 population. The develop-ment indicators used included urbanisation,economic development, literacy, etc. Crimerates considered in the study referred toofficial statistics as presented by Interpol.

7) Marenin (1997) p. 470. 8) Newman (1990) pp. 69-102.9) The UN Crime Survey categories used here

are “total intentional homicide” and “totaltheft”.

10) The 1994 Human Development Index forthe responding countries is taken fromUNDP (1997).

ENDNOTES

ALVAZZI DEL FRATE A., ZVEKIC U., VAN DIJK

J.J.M. eds. 1993. Understanding Crime:

Experiences of Crime and Crime Control.

UNICRI, Rome. ALVAZZI DEL FRATE A. 1998. Victims of Crime

in the Developing World, UNICRI, Rome.ALVAZZI DEL FRATE A., HATALAK O., ZVEKIC

U. eds., 2000. Surveying Crime: A Global

Perspective. ISTAT/UNICRI, Rome.COUNCIL OF EUROPE. 1999. European

Sourcebook of Crime and Criminal Justice

Statistics, PC-S-ST (99) 8 DEF, 18-10-99.

ICVS. 1999. International Crime Victim Survey

– international database.INTERPOL. 1997. International Crime Statistics.JEHLE J.-M., LEWIS C. 1995. Improving

Criminal Justice Statistics – National and

International Perspectives, Wiesbaden, KUP.KANGASPUNTA K., JOUTSEN M., OLLUS N. 1998.

Crime and Criminal Justice Systems in

Europe and North America, EuropeanInstitute for Crime Prevention and Controlaffiliated with the United Nations, HEUNI,Helsinki.

REFERENCES

75

Alvazzi del Frate

MARENIN O. 1997. Victimisation surveys andthe accuracy and reliability of official crimedata in developing countries, in Journal of

Criminal Justice, 25:6, pp. 463-475. MAYHEW P., VAN DIJK J.J.M. 1997. Criminal

Victimisation in Eleven Industrialised

Countries. WODC, Ministry of Justice ofThe Netherlands, The Hague.

NEWMAN G. 1990. Crime and the human condi-tion, in Essays on Crime and Development,edited by U. Zvekic, UNICRI Publ. No. 36,Rome.

NEWMAN G. ED., 1999. Global Report on Crime

and Justice, United Nations Office for DrugControl and Crime Prevention, Centre forInternational Crime Prevention, OxfordUniversity Press.

SHELLEY L. 1981. Crime and Modernisation:

Impact of Industrialisation and Urbanisation

on Crime. Carbondale, Ill.UNDP. 1997. Human Development Report

1997, United Nations DevelopmentProgramme, Oxford University Press,Oxford/New York.

VAN DIJK J.J.M., MAYHEW P., KILLIAS M.1990. Experiences of Crime Across the

World. Kluwer, Deventer.WOLF P. 1971. Crime and development. An

international comparison of crime rates,Scandinavian Studies in Criminology, pp.107-120.

ZVEKIC U. 1998. Criminal Victimisation in

Countries in Transition, UNICRI, Rome.ZVEKIC U., ALVAZZI DEL FRATE A. EDS., 1995.

Criminal Victimisation in the Developing

World, UNICRI, Rome.

INTRODUCTIONThis paper focuses on the growth of crime andviolence in Brazil since the transition fromauthoritarianism to democracy, demonstratingthat this growth is unequally distributed andconcentrated in specific geographical areas andsocial groups. The paper suggests that the insti-tutional conflicts and political uncertaintyregarding the role of the state, civil society andthe private sector in public security since thetransition to democracy, has contributed to thegrowth of crime and violence in the country.Organised crime, particularly the illegal com-merce of drugs and arms; police ineffective-ness; corruption and violence; and social andeconomic inequalities – frequently seen asresponsible for the growth of crime and vio-lence – reinforce this trend within particularareas and groups.

The growth of crime and violence, however,also reflects the institutional conflicts and polit-ical uncertainty regarding public security.These conflicts and uncertainties contribute tothe absence or weakness of institutions andpractices to ensure the accountability of publicand private security services and their respon-siveness to the law, the community and the citi-zens.

1. THE GROWTH OF CRIME AND VIOLENCEInformation available in Brazil does not ade-quately reflect the magnitude and distributionof crime and violence in that country. The mostreliable information involves homicides andother forms of violence resulting in death. TheMinistry of Health provides information on thenumber of deaths resulting from homicide or

aggression and other forms of violence regis-tered in all Brazilian states since 1979. Thisdata is based on the analysis of death certifi-cates.1 However, a significant number of vio-lent deaths are still registered as resulting from“events whose intention is undetermined”.2

Furthermore, according to a recent study, theMinistry of Health does not register 20% of thetotal number of deaths occurring throughoutthe country.3

Since the transition to democracy, the stategovernment began providing information oncrimes registered by the police. However, themethods for registering crimes and the qualityof the information vary significantly across dif-ferent Brazilian states.4

A series of victimisation surveys were con-ducted since the transition to democracy indi-cating that a significant percentage of crimesare not reported to the police. These surveysinclude the following: IBGE conducted one in1988 (IBGE 1990); UNICRI in 1992 (Zvekicand Frate 1995); PHO in 1996 (Briceño-Leonet al 1999); CPDOC-FGV/ISER in 1995-96(Pandolfi et al 1999; CPDOC-FGV/ISER1997); ILANUD/DataFolha in 1997 (Kahn1998); SEADE in 1998 (www.seade.gov.br);NEV-USP in 1999 (Cardia 1999).

Most surveys, however, focus attention onthe cities or states of Rio de Janeiro and SãoPaulo. The survey conducted by NEV-USP in1999 focused attention on ten state capitals.The survey conducted by IBGE in 1988 wasthe only one that had a national scope.

Despite these limitations, the available infor-mation is sufficient to demonstrate that inBrazil crime and violence, particularly homi-

77

Crime, Violence and Political Uncertainty in Brazil

Paulo de Mesquita Neto

78

Mesquita Neto

cides, has grown since the transition to democ-racy.

The number of violent deaths or deathsresulting from external causes increased from70 212 in 1980 to 117 603 in 1998 (+67.5%). Inthe same period, the number of deaths resultingfrom homicide or aggression increased from 13 910 to 41 916 (+201.3%). The percentage ofthe number of deaths resulting form aggressionin relation to the total number of violent deathsincreased from 19.8% to 35.6%. The homiciderate increased from 11.7 homicides per 100 000inhabitants in 1980 to 25.90 per 100 000 in1998 (121.4%).5

In addition, there has been significant growthin the rate of homicides committed with fire-arms. According to a recent study, the homiciderate in Brazil increased from 11.7/100 000 in1980 to 23.7/100 000 in 1996 (102.5%), whilethe rate of homicide with firearms increasedfrom 5.1/100 000 to 14.0/100 000 in the sameperiod (174.5%). The percentage of homicidescommitted by firearms in relation to the totalnumber of homicides increased from 43.6% to59.0%.6

1.1 Unequal distribution

The available information also indicates that therisk of violent crime is unequally distributed indifferent geographical areas and social groups.Furthermore, even though the risk of violentcrime has increased in all Brazilian states, thegrowth rate has varied significantly across dif-ferent geographical areas and social groups.

In 1998, the Federal District and nine statesregistered homicide rates higher than the aver-age homicide rate for Brazil. Five of thesestates are in the north and centre-west frontier:Roraima (51.02), Rondônia (38.71), Amapá(38.71), Mato Grosso (35.64), Mato Grosso doSul (33.57). Four of the states have large orgrowing metropolitan regions in the south-eastand north-east: Pernambuco (58.77/100 000),Espírito Santo (57.85), Rio de Janeiro (55.52)and São Paulo (39.64). The homicide rate forthe Federal District was 32.91.7

Seventeen states registered an average homi-cide rate lower than the average homicide ratefor Brazil. Six states registered homicide rateslower than 10/100 000: Bahia (9.89), MinasGerais (8.84), Rio Grande do Norte (8.46),Santa Catarina (8.11), Maranhão (5.17) andPiauí (5.23).8

Comparing the periods 1980–84 and1990–95, the average homicide rate increasedin the Federal District and 24 states anddeclined in only two states. The states of MatoGrosso (+165.3%) and Sergipe (+161%) regis-tered the highest increase. The states of MinasGerais (–10%) and Piauí (–2.3%) registered adecline in the average homicide rate.9 The aver-age rate of homicides with firearms increasedin the Federal District and in all 26 states. Thegreatest increases were registered in the statesof Roraima (2.600%), Sergipe (333%) and theFederal District (268%).10

The growth of violence is, to a significantextent, concentrated in urban areas and metro-politan regions. While the total number ofdeaths resulting from homicide or aggressionincreased from 13 910 in 1980 to 41 916 in1998 (201.3%), the number of deaths resultingfrom homicide or aggression in the 27 statecapitals, increased from 4947 in 1980 to 15 286in 1998 (209.0%). In the 12 metropolitanregions, the number of deaths resulting fromhomicide or aggression increased from 6552 in1980 to 23 770 in 1998 (262.8%).

In 1998, the 12 metropolitan regions regis-tered 56.7% of the total number of deathsresulting from aggression, whereas the popula-tion of these areas represented 36.7% of thetotal population in Brazil.

The two largest metropolitan regions (SãoPaulo and Rio de Janeiro) registered 15 896homicides or 37.9% of the total number ofhomicides in Brazil. The two largest cities, SãoPaulo and Rio de Janeiro, registered 8826homicides or 21% of the total number of homi-cides in the country.

Regarding the distribution of violent crimeacross different groups in society, it is clear thatthe majority of victims of homicide are men.The homicide rate for men increased from 21.2/100 000 in 1980 to 43.5/100 000 in 1996(+105.2%). However the homicide rate forwomen also increased substantially from2.3/100 000 in 1980 to 4.4/100 000 in 1996(+91.3%).11

Regarding age group, there has been a signif-icant increase in the homicide rate for the popu-lation aged between 15- and 22-years-old. Inthe state of Rio de Janeiro, the average homi-cide rate for youths aged 15–17 increased from15.2/100 000 in 1980–84 to 55.5/100 000 in1990–95 (+265%). For youths aged 18–21, it

79

Mesquita Neto

increased from 38.4/100 000 to 99.0/100 000 inthe same period (+157%).12

In the state of São Paulo, the average homi-cide rate for youths aged 15–17 increased from18.3/100 000 in 1980–84 to 38.3/100 000 in1990–95 (+109%). For youths aged 18–21, itincreased from 38.3/100 000 to 73.3/100 000over the same period (+91%).13

In 1995, the homicide rate for the populationaged between 18–21-years-old reached139.0/100 000 in Rio de Janeiro, the state withthe highest homicide rate for this age group,followed by Amapá (94.0), Federal District(90.0), Roraima (86.0), Espírito Santo (84.0)and São Paulo (78.0).14

1.2 Social inequality

Crime maps have indicated that the highesthomicide rates are registered on the peripheryof large cities and metropolitan regions. It is inthese regions that the problems of poverty,unemployment and the lack of adequate hous-ing and basic services, including health, educa-tion, transport, communication, security andjudicial services, are particularly acute. It isalso in these areas where, despite the transitionfrom authoritarianism to democracy in the1980s, major human rights violations continueto occur. Typical violations include summaryexecutions, torture and arbitrary detention bythe police, private security and criminal organi-sations or groups.15

In the city of São Paulo in 1999, the homi-cide rate varied from 4.11/100 000 inhabitantsin Moema (a wealthy neighbourhood in thecentral region of the city) to 116.23/100 000 inJardim Angela (an underprivileged neighbour-hood in the southern part of the city). In the cityof Diadema, in the metropolitan region of SãoPaulo, the homicide rate reached 149.76/ 100 000 in 1999.16 Similar contrasts are presentin the cities and metropolitan areas of Rio deJaneiro (RJ), Salvador (BA) and, to a lesserextent, Curitiba (PR).17

In rural areas, homicides and gross humanrights violations tend to be concentrated inregions that are distant from urban centres. Inthese regions the state and civil society areabsent or weak and intense and violent conflictsbetween landowners, landless workers, minersand indigenous groups exist. It is, however, farmore difficult to obtain information regardinghomicides and gross human rights violations.

The press and non-governmental organisations(NGOs) are frequently the major source ofinformation in these areas.18

2. EXPLANATIONS AND INTERPRETATIONS Studies on the causes or reasons for the growthof crime and violence are still in progress inBrazil. These studies shape and are shaped, notonly by academic/theoretical, but also by pub-lic/political debate. In part, this is a result of thegrowing importance of crime and violence aspublic/political issues. It also reflects the largerole played by social scientists in governmentalorganisations and NGOs during the processesof democratic transition and consolidation(Zaluar 1999; Paixão 1986; Adorno 1983).

Most analysts agree that the quality of infor-mation regarding crime and violence hasimproved since the transition to democracy. Itis clear that improvements in the capabilitiesfor registering crime have resulted in increasesin crime rates in many states. However, it isalso clear that increases in crime rates cannotbe attributed simply to improvements in crimeregistration, but result from actual increases incrime and violence.

There are multiple factors contributing to thegrowth of crime and violence in Brazil.Analysts from different disciplines, theoreticalbackgrounds and political positions tend toemphasise different factors and propose differ-ent solutions to the problem. There are, howev-er, three major approaches for analysing thegrowth of crime and violence. These approach-es could be characterised as follows: economic,political and social.

Analysts positioned to the left of the politicalspectrum tend to emphasise the contribution tothe growth of crime and violence of economicfactors like poverty, unemployment, economicinequalities and class conflicts (Maricato 1995;Oliven 1980; Weffort 1980). This approachfocuses attention on the destabilising and nega-tive impact of economic crises, the processes ofcapitalist development and, more recently,globalisation. It explains crime and violence asstrategies for survival and struggle in a societycharacterised by high levels of economicinequality and class conflict.

This approach has been particularly instru-mental in analysing political violence and vio-lence across classes or groups as practiced bymembers of dominant groups and state agents

80

Mesquita Neto

against members of subordinate groups, andvice-versa, in rural and urban areas. However,it has been less useful in analyses of interper-sonal violence and, particularly, variations inthe level of violence within the same class orgroup.

Analysts to the right side of the politicalspectrum tend to emphasise the contribution tothe growth of crime and violence to factorsundermining the state’s capability to maintainlaw and order and to prevent and repress illegaland violent actions. More specifically, theyemphasise the weakness of state institutionsand organisations responsible for the mainte-nance of law and order, and the strength andinternational status of criminal organisations(Cardoso 2000, Silva Filho 2000; Flores 1992;Vidigal 1989).

This approach focuses attention on the desta-bilising and negative impact of the processes ofmodernisation, democratisation and globalisa-tion. It explains crime and violence as strategiesfor maximising gains in a society characterisedby low levels of social control and high levelsof impunity. This approach has been particular-ly constructive in analysing crime and violenceassociated with organised crime but is less use-ful in analysing interpersonal crime and vio-lence.

Analysts at the center of the political spec-trum tend to emphasise the contribution of fac-tors undermining societies’ capability to ensurethe rule of law and basic civil, political andsocial rights for the majority of the population.More specifically, they emphasise the weaknessof the institutions and practices for securing cit-izenship and human rights and the legal andpeaceful means for conflict resolution. (Pin-heiro 2000 and 1996; Cardia 2000; Caldeira2000; Adorno 1999 and 1998; Pandolfi et al.1999, Soares 1996).

This approach focuses attention on the longhistory of authoritarianism, racial discrimina-tion and social inequality in Brazil. It alsofocuses attention on the nature of the process ofdemocratic transition and consolidation; thepersistence of uncivil relations within society;socially established authoritarianism; and theculture of violence in Brazil.

Finally, this approach focuses attention onthe limited capacity of democratic governmentsand civil society organisations to strengthen therule of law and the institutions and practices

necessary for securing citizenship and humanrights.

From this perspective, crime and violencetend to be seen as strategies for solving conflictin a context characterised by profound racialdiscrimination, social inequality and weakdemocratic institutions and practices. Thisapproach has been particularly useful inanalysing interpersonal violence within thesame class, group or community and grosshuman rights violations.

Additional factors contributing to the growthof crime and violence, emphasised by manyanalysts, are the dissemination of drugs andfirearms within society and the growth of crim-inal organisations associated with the illegalcommerce of drugs and firearms. This factorhas been considered particularly important inRio de Janeiro (Zaluar 1999; Soares 1996).

3. RESPONSES TO CRIME AND VIOLENCEThe first response to the growth of crime andviolence was an increase in the number ofagents employed in public and private securityservices. Public and private spending on securi-ty services was also increased.

Brazil operates on a federal political systemwhereby the individual states control the mainpolice forces, namely the military police andthe civilian police. The military police areresponsible for ostensive policing and ordermaintenance. The civilian police are responsi-ble for criminal investigation. The federal gov-ernment controls the armed forces, the federalpolice and the federal highway police. Thearmed forces, under the control of the Ministryof Defence since 1999, are responsible not onlyfor external defence but also for the mainte-nance of law and order. The federal police andthe federal highway police are both relativelysmall forces. The federal police are responsiblefor border control and the investigation of fed-eral crimes (including, for example, drug traf-ficking). The federal highway police areresponsible for policing the federal highways.In addition to these security agencies, the 1988Federal Constitution authorised municipal gov-ernments to employ municipal guards.19

The number of people employed in the mili-tary police increased from 185 000 in 1981 to234 700 in 1985, 243 000 in 1991 and 339 762in 1995. The number of people employed incivilian police forces (including mainly the

81

Mesquita Neto

civilian police, the federal police, the federalhighway police and the municipal guards)increased from 105 200 in 1985 to 154 400 in1995. From 1985 to 1995, the number of policeagents and municipal guards increased from339 900 to 494 162 (+45.4%).20

In the year 2000, Brazil had 472 803 policeofficers (368 900 in the military police, 103 903 in the civilian police and 20 220 inindependent military firefighter corps).21 In thestate of São Paulo, which has the largest popu-lation and the largest police forces in the coun-try, the number of agents in the military policeincreased from 54 767 in 1982 to 82 021 in2000 (+49.8%). The number of agentsemployed by the civilian police increased from16 265 in 1982 to 36 883 in 2000 (+126.8%).The total number of police agents increasedfrom 71 032 agents in 1982 to 118 904 agentsin 2000 (+67.4%).22

Despite the transition to democracy and thevirtual absence of external threats, the numberof soldiers in the armed forces also grew from272 550 in 1981 to 296 700 in 1991 and 336 800 in 1994 (219 000 in the army, 58 400in the navy and 59 400 in the air force).23

Responding to pressures from conservativegroups, the Federal Constitution of 1988, andmore recently the complementary law of 97/99,established that, not only the police but also thearmed forces, are responsible for the mainte-nance of law and order in Brazil. The NationalDefence Policy adopted in 1996 decreed thatthe armed forces should be prepared to protectthe country from armed groups and criminalorganisations in neighbouring countries, partic-ularly in the Amazon region, or within thenational territory.24

In addition to the increase in the number ofpeople employed in public security, the numberof people employed in private security servicesincreased from 640 500 in 1985 to approxi-mately one million in 1995.

This figure does not include the police offi-cers that hold down second jobs with privatesecurity companies and other people that arenot legally or regularly employed in privatesecurity.25

Accordingly, private investment in securityhas surpassed public investments. A recentstudy estimated that the public sector spendsR$18 billion (approximately US$10 billion),while the private sector spends R$22 billion

(approximately US$12.2 billion) a year onsecurity services.26

The expansion of the police forces and theinvestments in security services was followedby an increase in the number of people impris-oned from 28 538 in 1969 to 88 041 in 1988,126 152 in 1993 and approximately 170 000 in1997 and 204 000 in 2000.27

Questions remain as to whether this growthof investment in pubic and private security hasbeen excessive, sufficient or insufficient for thecontrol of crime and the maintenance of lawand order. However, if the statistics are exam-ined, it is clear that these investments have notresulted in the reduction of violent crime.

In Brazil, despite the growth in the number ofpolice agents and municipal guards from 339 900 in 1985 to 494 162 in 1995 (+45.4%),the homicide rate increased from 14.9/100 000in 1985 to 23.9/100 000 in 1995 (+60.4%).

In the state of São Paulo, despite the growthin the number of police agents from 71 032 in1982 to 116 564 in 1998 (+64.1%), the homi-cide rate increased from 16/100 000 in 1982 to36.1/100 000 in 1996 (+125.6%).

Conservative groups argue that the invest-ment in security services has not been sufficientto contain the growth of crime and violence.They also argue that the control of crime andviolence requires not only additional invest-ment in security services, but also the expan-sion of the authority and the power of thepolice, the criminal justice and, if necessary,the armed forces to maintain law and order.

Groups to the left of the political spectrumargue that investment in security services is toohigh. They maintain that the control of crimeand violence requires changes in economic andsocial policies to reduce poverty and inequality.From this perspective, economic and socialpolicies focusing mainly on the process of eco-nomic stabilisation have undermined the impactof security services and created favourable con-ditions for the growth of crime and violence.

Groups to the centre of the political spectrumargue that the problem is not so much the mag-nitude of the investment, but the quality ofsecurity services and the absence or weaknessof democratic controls over security services.In particular, they argue that the reduction ofcrime and violence requires reform to improvethe quality of security and criminal justice ser-vices. In addition, access to these services must

82

Mesquita Neto

be expanded and their accountability andresponsiveness to the law, the community andthe citizens needs to be ensured.

The above political debate is very important.However, the problem remains that the growthof crime and violence results not only fromsocial and economic inequalities, insufficient orinadequate security services and/or the dissemi-nation of arms and drugs. It also results frompolitical uncertainty and institutional conflictsnot resolved during the transition from authori-tarianism to democracy. These factors under-mine the efforts to improve the quality of secu-rity and criminal justice services.

4. POLITICAL UNCERTAINTY AND INSTITUTIONALCONFLICTSince Brazil’s transition to democracy, there isa great deal of uncertainty regarding the struc-ture of the public security system. This uncer-tainty centres particularly on the roles of thefederal government, the state governments, themunicipal governments, civil society and theprivate sector in crime control and prevention.

The 1988 Federal Constitution promoted verylimited changes to the structure of the publicsecurity system established under the authori-tarian regime. There has, however, been aresisted, contested, but progressive tendencytowards the reform and decentralisation of thepublic security system, including:• the limitation of the role of the armed forces

and the expansion of the role of the policeforces in the matter of public security28

• the adoption of community policing by themilitary police in the federal states29

• the creation of municipal guards• the expansion of private security services.This process of decentralisation has contributedto narrowing the gap between the providers ofsecurity services and the communities or thecitizens that use and pay for these services. Ithas, however, increased inconsistenciesbetween the 1988 Federal Constitution and thestructure and functioning of the public securitysystem. The result is that conflict over the con-stitutional rules regulating the structure andfunctioning of the public security system hasintensified. Some of the issues involved includethe following:• There are groups defending the expansion

and groups defending the limitation of therole of the armed forces in public security.

• There are groups in favour and groupsagainst the creation of a national guard.

• There are groups in favour and groupsagainst the unification of the military policeand the civilian police.

• There are groups in favour and groupsagainst the development of community polic-ing.

• There are groups in favour and groupsagainst the creation of municipal policeforces.

• There are groups in favour and groupsagainst the expansion of private security ser-vices.

These conflicts weaken and de-legitimise theconstitutional rules regulating the structure andfunctioning of the public security system. Theyrender it more difficult, if not impossible, forgovernment officials and police authorities toimplement these rules and exercise control oversecurity services, ensuring their effectiveness,efficiency, impartiality, accountability andresponsiveness to the law, the community andthe citizens.

Political uncertainty and institutional conflictin the matter of public security since the transi-tion to democracy are not directly associatedwith the growth of crime and violence. Theyare, however, major obstacles to the improve-ment of the quality of security services, whichare essential to the control and prevention ofcrime and violence within society.

5. PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE Research has made it increasingly clear thatmultiple factors contribute to the growth ofcrime and violence in Brazil. The problem ofcontrolling crime and violence cannot be solvedsimply by reducing economic inequalitiesand/or increasing the states capability to punishillegal and violent actions. It is necessary alsoto improve the quality of security and criminaljustice services, their accountability andresponsiveness to the law, the community andthe citizens.

Research centres and NGOs, particularly inSão Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Minas Gerais andRio Grande do Sul, have intensified their sup-port of reforms to improve the quality andincrease the accountability of security andcriminal justice services.

Responding to this movement, the federalgovernment announced the National

83

Mesquita Neto

Programme for Human Rights in 1996 and theNational Programme for Public Security in theyear 2000.30 These programmes are extremelyimportant, but they are only initial steps in along-term process of change. Furthermore, pub-lic opinion, state governments, the judiciaryand the legislative have been divided and lesssupportive of reform within security and crimi-nal justice services.

It remains to be seen, however, if these pro-

grammes, with the support of the federal gov-ernment, research centres and NGOs, will becapable of reducing the level of political uncer-tainty and institutional conflict, promotingreform and improving the quality of securityand criminal justice services. Perhaps, though,they will not be able to overcome the politicaluncertainty and institutional conflict that haveundermined government programmes and poli-cies since the transition to democracy.

Table 1: Violent deaths resulting from aggression and events whose intention is undetermined, Brazil

and the Federal States, 1998

Aggression Undetermd. Population Aggression/ Undetermd./ Uncertain/

100 000 100 000 Aggression

Brazil 41 916 13 117 161 790 311 25.91 8.11 0.31Rondônia 494 46 1 276 173 38.71 3.60 0.09Acre 110 79 514 050 21.40 15.37 0.72Amazonas 534 65 2 520 684 21.18 2.58 0.12Roraima 133 1 260 705 51.02 0.38 0.01Pará 772 194 5 768 476 13.38 3.36 0.25Amapá 160 420 834 38.02 0.00 0.00Tocantins 129 34 1 107 803 11.64 3.07 0.26Maranhão 277 535 5 356 853 5.17 9.99 1.93Piauí 142 52 2 714 999 5.23 1.92 0.37Ceará 946 179 7 013 376 13.49 2.55 0.19Rio G. Norte 222 271 2 624 397 8.46 10.33 1.22Paraíba 420 24 3 353 624 12.52 0.72 0.06Pernambuco 4 422 292 7 523 755 58.77 3.88 0.07Alagoas 582 13 2 688 117 21.65 0.48 0.02Sergipe 175 566 1 684 953 10.39 33.59 3.23Bahia 1 271 1 308 12 851 268 9.89 10.18 1.03Minas Gerais 1 511 2 499 17 100 314 8.84 14.61 1.65Espírito Santo 1 675 84 2 895 547 57.85 2.90 0.05Rio de Janeiro 7 596 2 457 13 681 410 55.52 17.96 0.32São Paulo 13 985 2 196 35 284 072 39.64 6.22 0.16Paraná 1 624 319 9 258 813 17.54 3.45 0.20Santa Catarina 408 172 5 028 339 8.11 3.42 0.42Rio Grande Sul 1 520 588 9 866 928 15.40 5.96 0.39Mato Grosso Sul 670 144 1 995 578 33.57 7.22 0.21Mato Grosso 831 31 2 331 663 35.64 1.33 0.04Goiás 703 890 4 744 174 14.82 18.76 1.27Distrito Federal 633 78 1 923 406 32.91 4.06 0.12

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM

84

Mesquita Neto

1) Information available on Datasus’ websitewww.datasus.gov.br

2) In 1998, the Ministry Health registered 117 603 violent deaths or deaths resultingfrom external causes. Within this universe,there were 41 916 deaths (35%) as a resultof aggression and 13 117 deaths (11%)resulting from events whose intention isundetermined and therefore could eventu-ally be the result of aggression or homi-cide. See Table 1.

3) See Catão 1999: 9. The percentage is higherin the regions north (41.3%) and north-east(44.9%) and even higher in some states likeMaranhão (70.6%) and Piauí (68.9%).

4) The state of São Paulo publishes the statis-tics of the crimes registered by the policeevery three months in Diário Oficial do

Estado de São Paulo www.imesp.com.brand every year in Anuário Estatístico do

Estado de São Paulo www.seade.gov.br5) Information available on Datasus’ website

www.datasus.gov.br6) See Table 2.7) See Table 1.8) These six states have a relatively high

number of deaths that are not registeredand/or are registered as resulting from

events whose intention is undetermined.See Table 1.

9) See Table 3.10) See Table 4.11) See Table 5.12) See Table 6.13) See Table 7.14) Catão 1999: 18.15) For an overview of the problem, see

Pinheiro 2000, Pinheiro et al 1998 andCardia 2000.

16) See Tables 8 and 9. 17) CEDEC 1997a, 1997b, 1996a, 1996b. 18) Among the non-governmental organisa-

tions registering and reporting cases of vio-lence and gross human rights violations inrural areas are Movimento Nacional deDireitos Humanos, Movimento dosTrabalhadores Rurais Sem Terra, ComissãoPastoral da Terra and ConselhoMissionário Indigenista.

19) See 1988 Federal Constitution, articles 142and 144.

20) Information for 1981 and 1991, MesquitaNeto 1995 and IISS 1994. Information for1985 and 1995, from Garotinho 1998.

21) Ministry of Justice, National Secretary ofPublic Security.

Table 2: Homicide rate and firearms, Brazil, 1980–1995

Homicides Homicides by Firearm

1980 11.7 5.11981 12.9 5.31982 12.9 5.11983 14.1 5.01984 15.6 6.11985 14.9 6.31986 15.5 6.51987 17.1 7.81988 17.0 7.61989 20.5 9.41990 22.0 11.41991 20.8 10.61992 19.1 9.91993 20.3 12.31994 21.3 14.31995 23.9 14.01996 23.7 14.0

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM, in Catão 1999: 38 and 60

ENDNOTES

85

Mesquita Neto

22) With a population of approximately 35million, the state of Sao Paulo has onepolice agent for 294 habitants. The ratio iscomparable to that in Italy, i.e. one policeagent per 286 habitants. For purposes ofcomparison, Spain has one police agent per276 habitants. France has one police agentper 270 habitants. The United Kingdomhas one police agent per 407 habitants.Monet 1993: 124-125.

23) Mesquita Neto 1995 and IISS 1994. 24) Àlvares 2000.25) Garotinho 1998: 87.26) See “Aumento da violência faz setor priva-

do gastar mais que Estado” [roughly: agrowth in violence results in the privatesector spending more than the state], inValor, July 4, 2000. According to a studyconducted by the Interamerican Deve-

lopment Bank, the annual cost of violencein Brazil can be as high as US$65 billion.

27) Information on the number of people inprison is not readily available in Brazil. Ithank Fernando Salla, from the Centre forthe Study of Violence, at the University ofSão Paulo, for the information providedabove. The sources are IBGE 1972, thejournal Revista do Conselho Nacional de

Política Criminal e Penitenciária 1:2(1994) and the weekly magazine Veja,February 23, 2000.

28) Mesquita Neto 2000 and 1998.29) Mesquita Neto 1998 and Muniz et al 1997.30) Both programmes are available at the Min-

istry of Justice’s website www.mj.gov.br.On the National Programme for HumanRights, see Pinheiro e Mesquita Neto 1999,1998 and 1997.

Table 3: Change in homicide rates, Brazil and the Federal States, 1980–1995

Average Rate Average Rate Average Rate Change (%) Change (%) Change (%)

1980–1984 1985–1989 1990–1995 85–89/80–84 90–95/85–89 90–95/80–84

Brasil 14.8 18.3 22.6 23.6 23.5 58.0Rondônia 24 45.5 38.6 89.6 –15.2 60.8Acre 10 20.2 22 102.0 8.9 120.0Amazonas 10.3 11.6 17.3 12.6 49.1 68.0Roraima 17.7 23.2 40.2 31.1 73.3 127.1Pará 10.8 13.2 14.2 22.2 7.6 31.5Amapá 9.7 11.9 24.7 22.7 107.6 154.6Tocantins na 7.2 8.4 na 16.7 naMaranhão 3.5 6.2 8 77.1 29.0 128.6Piauí 4.4 4.6 4.3 4.5 –6.5 –2.3Ceará 9.6 8.7 10 –9.4 14.9 4.2Rio G. Norte 8.5 7.3 9 –14.1 23.3 5.9Paraíba 12 13.6 12.3 13.3 –9.6 2.5Pernambuco 23.8 32.6 37.2 37.0 14.1 56.3Alagoas 21.1 27.1 25.9 28.4 –4.4 22.7Sergipe 7.7 5.9 20.1 –23.4 240.7 161.0Bahia 4.1 6.6 9.7 61.0 47.0 136.6Minas Gerais 8 7.1 7.2 –11.3 1.4 –10.0Espírito Santo 16.8 25 38.5 48.8 54.0 129.2Rio Janeiro 20.7 26.3 47 27.1 78.7 127.1São Paulo 18.8 26.9 30.4 43.1 13.0 61.7Paraná 12.9 11.9 14.3 –7.8 20.2 10.9Sta. Catarina 7.4 6.9 7.8 –6.8 13.0 5.4Rio G. Sul 8.3 11.3 15.9 36.1 40.7 91.6Mato G. Sul 19.5 18.9 25.2 –3.1 33.3 29.2Mato Grosso 7.5 21.5 19.9 186.7 –7.4 165.3Goiás 17.1 17.7 17.8 3.5 0.6 4.1DF 14.3 21.6 33.7 51.0 56.0 135.7

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM, in Catão 1999: 37 na = not available

86

Mesquita Neto

Table 4: Change in rates of homicide by firearm in Brazil and the Federal States, 1980–1995

Average Rate Average Rate Average Rate Change (%) Change (%) Change (%)

1980–1984 1985–1989 1990–1995 85–89/80–84 90–95/85–89 90–95/80–84

Brasil 5.4 7.6 11.7 40.7 53.9 116.7Rondônia 13.0 24.7 21.0 90.0 –15.0 61.5Acre 3.8 10.0 11.6 163.2 16.0 205.3Amazonas 3.9 5.6 8.7 43.6 55.4 123.1Roraima 0.6 0.8 16.2 33.3 1925.0 2600.0Pará 5.7 7.2 8.5 26.3 18.1 49.1Amapá 3.8 4.6 11.3 21.1 145.7 197.4Tocantins na 4.1 3.5 na –14.6 naMaranhão 1.3 2.6 3.5 100.0 34.6 169.2Piauí 1.3 1.5 1.4 15.4 –6.7 7.7Ceará 3.3 2.8 4.1 –15.2 46.4 24.2Rio G. Norte 4.2 3.7 5.1 –11.9 37.8 21.4Paraíba 4.4 5.5 6.4 25.0 16.4 45.5Pernambuco 13.5 21.9 25.8 62.2 17.8 91.1Alagoas 10.5 13.1 13.4 24.8 2.3 27.6Sergipe 2.7 2.7 11.7 0.0 333.3 333.3Bahia 1.8 3.4 6.1 88.9 79.4 238.9Minas Gerais 2.8 2.5 3.2 –10.7 28.0 14.3Espírito Santo 6.0 10.8 19.1 80.0 76.9 218.3Rio Janeiro 13.3 17.1 37.9 28.6 121.6 185.0São Paulo 4.3 8.0 11.3 86.0 41.3 162.8Paraná 6.0 5.5 7.5 –8.3 36.4 25.0Sta. Catarina 2.9 3.2 3.6 10.3 12.5 24.1Rio G. Sul 3.0 5.0 10.0 66.7 100.0 233.3Mato G. Sul 10.5 9.8 14.3 –6.7 45.9 36.2Mato Grosso 2.9 10.0 9.6 244.8 –4.0 231.0Goiás 7.4 8.9 9.4 20.3 5.6 27.0DF 6.0 12.6 22.1 110.0 75.4 268.3

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM, in Catão 1999: 57 na = not available

Table 5: Homicide rate and gender, Brazil, 1990–1995

Homicide Rate Total Homicide Rate Men Homicide Rate Women

1980 11.7 21.2 2.31981 12.9 23.4 2.51982 12.9 23.4 2.51983 14.1 25.6 2.71984 15.6 28.8 2.71985 14.9 27.3 2.61986 15.5 28.6 2.71987 17.1 31.7 2.81988 17.0 31.4 2.91989 20.5 38.1 3.31990 22.0 40.9 3.51991 20.8 38.3 3.61992 19.1 35.3 3.21993 20.3 37.4 3.41994 21.3 39.3 3.71995 23.9 44.0 4.21996 23.7 43.5 4.4

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM, in Catão 1999: 38

87

Mesquita Neto

Table 6: Change in homicide rate and age, Rio de Janeiro, 1980–1995

Average Rate Average Rate Average Rate Change (%) Change (%) Change (%)

1980–1984 1985–1989 1990–1995 85–89/80–84 90–95/85–89 90–95/80–84

Total 20.7 26.3 47.0 27.05 78.71 127.050–9 0.6 0.6 0.9 0.00 50.00 50.0010–14 1.9 2.4 4.8 26.32 100.00 152.6315–17 15.2 22.4 55.5 47.37 147.77 265.1318–21 38.4 52.3 99.0 36.20 89.29 157.8122–24 44.6 54.3 100.7 21.75 85.45 125.7825–29 44.5 55.3 85.4 24.27 54.43 91.9130–34 37.7 51.0 70.1 35.28 37.45 85.9435–39 30.4 38.4 57.9 26.32 50.78 90.4640–44 24.5 26.8 43.7 9.39 63.06 78.3745–49 19.8 22.0 35.0 11.11 59.09 76.7750–59 14.4 14.6 22.6 1.39 54.79 56.9460 and + 10.1 9.9 11.4 –1.98 15.15 12.87

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM, in Catão 1999: 51

Table 7: Change in homicide rate and age, São Paulo, 1980–1995

Average Rate Average Rate Average Rate Change (%) Change (%) Change (%)

1980–1984 1985–1989 1990–1995 85–89/80–84 90–95/85–89 90–95/80–84

Total 18.8 26.6 30.4 41.49 14.29 61.700–9 1.0 1.0 1.0 0.00 0.00 0.0010–14 2.2 3.8 3.5 72.73 –7.89 59.0915–17 18.3 33.6 38.3 83.61 13.99 109.2918–21 38.3 62.4 73.3 62.92 17.47 91.3822–24 39.6 55.3 69.8 39.65 26.22 76.2625–29 36.3 50.6 61.7 39.39 21.94 69.9730–34 33.3 45.4 48.7 36.34 7.27 46.2535–39 27.9 38.0 40.8 36.20 7.37 46.2440–44 23.3 29.1 31.3 24.89 7.56 34.3345–49 19.4 21.3 24.4 9.79 14.55 25.7750–59 14.6 16.2 16.0 10.96 –1.23 9.5960 and + 9.0 9.9 8.4 10.00 –15.15 –6.67

Source: Ministry of Health/Datasus/SIM, in Catão 1999: 51

88

Mesquita Neto

Table 8: Change in homicide rate, City of São Paulo, 1996-1999

District 1996 1999 Dif.% District 1996 1999 Dif.%

Jardim Angela 94.42 116.23 23.10 Vila 37.77 49.61 31.37Leopoldina

Sé 89.42 107.62 20.35 Pirituba 41.58 49.23 18.38Cidade Ademar 90.79 106.06 16.82 Cidade Líder 41.72 49.02 17.50Jardim São Luis 69.90 103.75 48.42 Limão 36.92 48.88 32.40Iguatemi 54.56 100.11 83.47 Bom Retiro 36.00 48.69 35.27São Rafael 60.10 96.16 60.00 Jaraguá 46.36 48.56 4.76Grajaú 60.17 95.62 58.93 Ermelio 37.08 48.40 30.51

MatarazzoCampo Limpo 80.23 93.83 16.96 Cangaiba 24.52 47.95 95.52Brás 37.52 93.47 149.16 Vila Prudente 38.85 47.84 23.16Capão Redondo 86.39 93.02 7.67 Vila Sônia 42.88 47.51 10.79Brasilândia 80.34 92.31 14.90 São Lucas 26.28 47.24 79.74Parelheiros 66.66 91.52 37.29 Aricanduva 29.54 46.89 58.76CidadeTiradentes 54.12 88.88 64.22 Ponte Rosa 31.49 45.45 44.35Pedreira 65.87 82.09 24.61 Vila Guilherme 29.90 45.01 50.55Morumbi 77.85 81.71 4.96 Campo Grande 51.87 44.41 –14.38Cidade Dutra 70.37 80.64 14.58 Barra Funda 34.88 43.46 24.59Cachoeirinha 68.17 77.75 14.05 São Domingos 39.78 42.12 5.88Sapopemba 46.70 77.68 66.35 Santo Amaro 55.58 42.02 –24.41Itaim Paulista 63.09 76.82 21.77 Freguesia do Ó 33.03 41.78 26.50Jaçanã 47.98 76.39 59.21 Tucuruvi 24.53 38.44 56.74Rio Pequeno 66.40 74.51 12.20 Casa Verde 37.12 38.15 2.79Parque do Carmo 48.10 72.70 51.14 Penha 24.43 37.71 54.40Guaianazes 92.16 72.62 –21.21 Anhanguera 31.55 36.01 14.13Sacomã 63.19 67.45 6.74 Belém 32.89 32.10 –2.41Artur Alvim 47.99 66.83 39.26 Mandaqui 23.55 30.77 30.69Vila Jacuí 58.01 65.67 13.19 Butantã 28.04 30.74 9.65Vila Maria 38.88 64.48 65.85 Cambuci 12.47 29.41 135.85Itaquera 58.54 64.47 10.12 Tatuapé 16.78 28.99 72.74Lajeado 63.23 64.45 1.93 Lapa 22.24 28.06 26.15São Miguel 43.36 63.96 41.02 Vila Matilde 27.17 28.01 3.10São Mateus 65.60 62.35 –4.95 Vila Formosa 32.83 26.91 –18.02Jaguaré 44.33 61.95 39.73 Campo Belo 43.59 26.88 –38.33Jardim Helena 57.43 61.79 7.59 Mooca 23.50 26.11 11.11José Bonifácio 33.69 60.98 81.03 Bela Vista 38.54 25.49 –33.86Socorro 54.74 59.70 9.07 Agua Rasa 15.00 21.42 42.78Vila Curuçá 49.73 59.08 18.80 Consolação 17.07 19.60 14.82Tremembé 30.72 57.80 88.18 Pinheiros 12.95 19.49 50.57República 40.28 57.11 41.78 Santana 29.55 19.27 –34.80Jabaquara 69.69 57.05 –18.14 Itaim Bibi 22.59 19.18 –15.09Vila Medeiros 35.07 55.69 58.81 Saúde 21.23 19.16 –9.75Pari 51.85 54.16 4.45 Carrão 25.19 18.19 –27.78Perus 46.89 53.79 14.71 Liberdade 13.99 18.04 28.95Ipiranga 30.86 53.55 73.52 Alto de Pinheiros 15.80 16.49 4.37Jaguará 31.10 53.02 70.45 Perdizes 9.64 14.73 52.82Raposo Tavares 47.03 50.74 7.89 Santa Cecília 27.70 13.75 –50.35Marsilac 80.94 50.70 –37.36 Vila Mariana 15.30 11.55 –24.53Cursino 48.05 50.09 4.25 Garden Paulista 6.72 8.22 22.30Vila Andrade 38.80 50.07 29.05 Moema 14.84 4.11 –72.26

Source: Seade Foundation

89

Mesquita Neto

Table 9: Change in homicide rate, metropolitan region of São Paulo, 1996-1999

City 1996 1999 Difference %

Diadema 129.49 149.76 15.65Embu-Guaçú 61.68 136.57 121.41Itapeceria da Serra 111.19 105.70 –4.93Itapevi 54.87 93.76 70.88Barueri 49.90 92.59 85.55Francisco Morato 51.04 86.56 69.59Jandira 45.26 83.29 84.02Itaquaquecetuba 66.05 82.89 25.50Embu 105.19 81.50 –22.53Taboão da Serra 64.80 78.09 20.51Guarulhos 56.66 72.13 27.30Osasco 58.69 69.41 18.28Mauá 57.30 67.64 18.05Rio Grande da Serra 34.63 66.40 91.73Cotia 30.81 59.70 93.79São Bernado do Campo 56.02 58.86 5.07Santana do Parnaíba 33.39 57.89 73.35Santo André 44.29 53.84 21.55Carapicuíba 47.08 53.68 14.02Ferraz de Vasconcelos 39.51 47.97 21.41Cajamar 44.92 44.01 –2.03São Lourenço da Serra 29.74 43.57 46.54Aruja 35.66 43.52 22.05Juquitiba 32.09 43.44 35.40Mairiporã 50.30 42.94 –14.62Suzano 36.04 41.87 16.16Franco da Rocha 64.23 41.54 –35.33Poá 29.54 37.96 28.51Caieiras 24.50 33.00 34.67Ribeirão Pires 28.77 28.58 –0.65Santa Isabel 33.89 27.64 –18.44Pirapora do Bom Jesus 47.85 25.03 –47.70São Caetano do Sul 17.86 23.60 32.15Guararema 22.23 22.20 –0.12Vargem Grande Paulista 37.80 21.75 42.45Mogi das Cruzes 29.17 21.42 –26.57Biritiba Mirim 24.95 14.01 –43.85Salesópolis 7.55 – –100.00

Source: Seade Foundation

90

Mesquita Neto

ABRANCHES, S. 1994. A Alienação daAutoridade: notas sobre violência urbana ecriminalidade. In Reis Velloso, João Paulo(ed.), Governabilidade, Sistema Político e

Violência Urbana. Rio de Janeiro: JoséOlympio Editora.

ADORNO, S. 1999. Insegurança versus DireitosHumanos: entre a leie a ordem. Tempo Social

11(2): 129-153.ADORNO, S. 1998. Consolidação Democrática e

Políticas de Segurança Pública no Brasil:rupturas e continuidades. In Zaverucha, Jorge(ed.), Democracia e Instituições Políticas

Brasileiras no Final do Século XX Recife:Edições Bagaço.

ADORNO, S. 1983. A Criminalidade Violentaurbana no Brasil: um recorte temático.Boletim Informativo Bibliográfico 35: 3-24.

ÀLVARES, ÉLC. 2000. O Ministério da Defesa ea Segurança Pública. In Reis Velloso, JoãoPaulo e Albuquerque, Roberto Cavalcanti(eds.), Pobreza, Cidadania e Segurança. Riode Janeiro: José Olympio Editora.

BRICEÑO-LEON, R., CARNEIRO, L. AND CRUZ, J.M. 1999. O Apoio dos cidadãos à ação extra-judicial da polícia no Brasil, em El Salvadore na Venezuela, in Pandolfi et al. 1999.

CARDIA, N. 2000. Urban Violence in São

Paulo. Washington, DC: Woodrow WilsonCenter.

CARDIA, N. 1999. Atitudes, Valores e Normas

Culturais em Relação à Violência. Brasília:Ministério da Justiça, Secretaria de Estadodos Direitos Humanos.

CATÃO, Y. 1999. Mortes Violentas: Um

Panorama dos Homicidios no Brasil.Manuscript. Rio de Janeiro: IBGE.

CEDEC. 1997a. Mapa de Risco da Violencia -Cidade do Rio de Janeiro.

CEDEC. 1997b. Mapa de Risco da Violencia -Cidade de Salvador.

CEDEC. 1996a. Mapa de Risco da Violencia -Cidade de Curitiba.

CEDEC 1996b. Mapa de Risco da Violencia -Cidade de São Paulo.

CPDOC-FGV/ISER. 1997. Lei, Justiça e

Cidadania - direitos, vitimização e cultura

política na Região Metropolitana do Rio de

Janeiro. Rio de Janeiro: CPDOC-FGV/ISER.FLORES, M. C. 1992. Bases para uma Política

Militar. Campinas: Editora da Unicamp.

GAROTINHO, A. 1998. Violência e Criminali-

dade no Estado do Rio de Janeiro. Rio deJaneiro: Hama.

IBGE. 1988. Participação Político-Social

1988, volume 1: Justiça e Vitimização.Brasília: Ministério da Economia, Fazenda ePlanejamento.

IBGE. 1972. Anuário Estatístico 1972.IISS. 1994. The Military Balance, 1994-1995.KAHN, T. 1998. Pesquisas de Vitimização.

Revista do ILANUD 10.MARICATO, E. 1995. Metrópole na Periferia do

Capitalismo: ilegalidade, desigualdade e vio-

lência. São Paulo: Hucitec.MESQUITA NETO, P. 2000 (Forthcoming).

Police, Armed Forces and Democracy inBrazil. In Amir, Menachem and Einstein,Stanley (eds.), Policing, Security and

Democracy. Huntsville, TX: OICJ Press. MESQUITA NETO, P. 1999. Fuerzas Armadas,

Policias y Seguridad Publica en Brasil: insti-tuciones y politicas gubenamentales. In RutDiamint, (ed.). Control Civil y Fuerzas

Armadas en las nuevas democracias lati-

noamericanas. Buenos Aires: UniversidadTorcuato Di Tella e Nuevohacer.

MESQUITA NETO, P.1999. PoliciamentoComunitário: A Experiencia em Sao Paulo.Revista Brasileira de Ciencias Criminais

7(25): 281-292.MESQUITA NETO, P. 1995. From Intervention to

Participation: The Transformation of MilitaryPolitics in Brazil, 1974-1992. Ph.D.Dissertation. Columbia University, NewYork.

MUNIZ, J. ET AL. 1997. Resistências eDificuldades no Programa de PoliciamentoComunitário. Tempo Social 9(1): 197-213.

OLIVEN, R. G. 1980. A Violência como mecan-ismos de dominação e como estratégia desobrevivência. Dados - Revista Brasileira de

Ciências Sociais 23(3): 371-376.PAIXÃO, A. L. 1986. Crime, Controle Social e

Consolidação da Democracia: As Metáforasda Cidadania. In Reis, Fábio Wanderley andO'Donnell, Guillermo (eds.). Democracia no

Brasil: Dilemas e Perspectivas. São Paulo:Edições Vértice.

PANDOLFI, D. C., CARVALHO, J. M., CARNEIRO,L. P. AND GRYNSZPAN, M. (EDS.). 1999.Cidadania, Justiça e Violência. Rio de

REFERENCES

91

Mesquita Neto

Janeiro: Fundação Getúlio Vargas Editora.PINHEIRO, P. S. 2000. Brazil: The Burden of the

Past; The Promise of the Future. Daedalus

129(2): 119-143.PINHEIRO, P. S. 1996. O Passado não está

morto: nem passado é ainda. Em GlibertoDimenstein, Democracia em Pedaços:

Direitos Humanos no Brasil. São Paulo:Companhia das Letras.

PINHEIRO, P. S. AND MESQUITA NETO, P. 1999.Primeiro Relatório Nacional sobre os

Direitos Humanos no Brasil. Brasília:Ministério da Justiça.

PINHEIRO, P. S. AND MESQUITA NETO, P. 1998.Direitos Humanos no Brasil: Perspectivas nofinal do século. Pesquisas 11 - Cinquenta

Anos da Declaração Universal de Direitos

Humanos.PINHEIRO, P. S. AND MESQUITA NETO, P. 1997.

Programa Nacional de Direitos Humanos:Avaliação do Primeiro Ano e Perspectivas.Estudos Avançados 30.

PINHEIRO, P. S. ET AL. 1998. São Paulo Sem

Medo (Rio de Janeiro: Garamond). SILVA FILHO, JOSÉ VICENTE. 2000. Reflexões

para uma política nacional de segurançapública. In Reis Velloso, João Paulo eAlbuquerque, Roberto Cavalcanti (eds.),Pobreza, Cidadania e Segurança. Rio deJaneiro: José Olympio Editora.

SOARES, L. E. ET AL. 1996. Violência e Política

no Rio de Janeiro. Rio de Janeiro: ISER eRelume Dumará.

VIDIGAL, A. F. 1989. Las Nuevas FuerzasArmadas e los Nuevos Problemas de LaSeguridad. Documentos de Trabajo 8.Santiago, Chile: Comision Sudamericana dePaz.

WEFFORT, F. 1980. Atitude diante da violência.Ciência Penal 1: 122-130.

ZALUAR, A. 1999. Violência e Crime. In Miceli,Sérgio (ed.), O que ler na Ciência Social

Brasileira, 1970-1995 - Antropologia,Volume 1. São Paulo e Brasília: EditoraSumaré e Capes.

ZVEKIC, U. & FRATE, A. ALVAZZI DEL (eds.).1995. Criminal Victimisation in the

Developing World. Rome: United NationsInterregional Crime and Justice ResearchInstitute.

Web Sites

Fundação Seade [Seade Foundation]:www.seade.gov.br

Ministério da Justiça [Ministry of Justice]:www.mj.gov.br

Ministério da Saúde/Datasus [Ministry ofHealth, Datasus]: www.datasus.gov.br

INTRODUCTION: SOCIETY IN TRANSITION This paper addresses the growth, extent andcauses of crime in Moçambique. An updatedreading of the social and cultural realities of thecountry is essential for a comprehensive under-standing of the causes of crime and, conse-quently, for the search for an adequate remedyto tackle the problem. Such a reading is, how-ever, not possible in this context, but a briefoverview shall be given.

The growth of crime is a matter of great con-cern to all who are confronted with the increas-ing rate of crime, violence and fear in our soci-eties. It is a phenomenon that is not exclusiveto industrialised societies but also affectsdeveloping countries. Pressures arising fromthe globalisation process are, among others,factors of crime development in quantity, vari-ety and complexity. Globalisation brings withit, or at least gives way to, a new scenario:namely, international and organised crime.

The growth of crime is associated with rapideconomic development, consumerism, thegrowth of cities and a degeneration of thesocial fibre.

It is therefore a common concern of peopleof good will to try to understand the growth,extent and causes of crime, in order to find ade-quate mechanisms for fighting both crime andviolence.

Moçambique is a society in transition, sincethe time of independence – 25 June 1975 –until the present day. As a result, the nature andextent of crime is characterised by transition.Two different phases should be highlightedwhen examining the transition period: first isthe revolutionary phase when the socialist pro-

ject in the country was being implemented –from 1975 to 1987. The second, starting from1987 and extending to the present, is the trans-formation from a planned to a market econo-my, from one-party state democracy to multi-party and plural democracy. The first phase isthe transition from a colonial-capitalist societyto socialism and the second, from socialism tomarket democracy.

The revolutionary period corresponds withthe last stage of development of Africannationalism that culminated in the indepen-dence of former colonial territories on the con-tinent. Regardless of limited resources, thestate still had strong capacity to fulfil the roleof leading social transformation through law.The state was almost omnipresent throughmechanisms of social representation such ascommunity organisations for self-defence, pop-ular vigilance and crime fighting. Similarly, thepeople’s justice system was an importantinstrument for the assurance of peace and tran-quillity in society.

In a society in transition, crime is also of atransitional character. Pillage, sabotage of eco-nomic infrastructures and the system of distrib-ution of goods and food, appropriation of statefunds and property, were the most frequenteconomic and financial crimes. Consideringthat private property was an exception, one caneasily understand the reason for the high fig-ures in this field. Crimes against life or physi-cal integrity must also to be taken into account.They were, however, under the control of thestate and society due to existing mechanisms ofcrime prevention. Those mechanisms wereassured through people’s participation in the

93

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime: Moçambique

Luis Antonio Mondelane

94

Mondelane

decision-making process and its implementa-tion – through permanent contact and account-ability of state agents to their governors. Thelatter had power to control those in charge ofrunning public affairs. The late Samora Machel,while addressing members of the transitionalgovernment, wisely stated that power can cor-rupt even the most honest man.1

Development factors associated with thedemographic explosion as an enabling environ-ment for the growth of crime were reinforced inthe Moçambican context by a civil war that waswaged from 1976 to 1992. The war cost mil-lions of lives and destroyed vital economicplants and infrastructure.

As a consequence of the war, thousands ofcitizens were forced to abandon their homesseeking refuge in neighbouring countries.Others were internally displaced and forced tolive in main urban centres, thus overwhelmingsocial services such as health, education, trans-port and basic food distribution. The collapse ofeconomic and social infrastructures was wors-ened by the deterioration of social ethics andmoral values, giving way to a criminal mentali-ty. Also, a growth in crime does not necessarilyresult in increased capacity building for lawenforcers, particularly for police and the courts.

The praised values of African and social soli-darity were replaced by individualistic, selfishprinciples like easy money and making fast for-tunes without the requisite work or sacrifice.Some years ago, young people would say theyaspired to be doctors, lawyers, military men orprofessors. Today, the youth simply say theywant to be rich, revealing a materialistic andselfish trend in society. This assertion is madewithout taking into account the need for anyreasonable professional activity in order torealise such an expectation. One can argue thatthis is a natural expectation, without any nega-tive elements within. However, considering thatsuch an aim is to be achieved at any price, bywhatever means and as quickly as possible, wecome to understand that a rich man is now theelected hero of society – the new hero. (Ferreira1993: 124).

This is the main characteristic of the secondperiod where society is going through a processof transition from a planned to a free marketeconomy. From a situation where the state wasproviding basic services and basic needs to thepopulation at a symbolic price, we have moved

to a situation where the state holds the symbolicrole of guaranteeing law and order. The slimpresence of the state and the absence of socialpressure against antisocial behaviour providefertile conditions for the continuous growth ofcrime.

Corruption is now becoming a problemdemanding careful attention. It is a social can-cer affecting the state apparatus, the judiciaryand the society en masse. Corruption can sel-dom be seen overtly, but it is still present. Dueto its bilateral nature, active and passive agentsof crime tend to compromise. Disclosure ofsuch agreement only takes place when one partis seriously harmed by another’s miscarriage.Bribery, nepotism and the appropriation of pub-lic property, for example, are mentioned in pri-vate, but seldom brought to court.

1. THE EXTENT OF CRIME “I made the land safe, so that a lone womancould go her way freely, and none wouldmolest her. I rescued the humble from theiroppressors. I made every man safe in hishome. I preserved the lives of those whosought my court of justice. The people werewell content under my rule” (Ramses III,1200 BC).2

There is no clear-cut system for measuring theincreasing rate of crime.The perceived level ofinsecurity, the disturbance of public order, fearto walk in the streets or to travel in places intowns and rural areas, are all clear indicationsof the presence of criminal activities. For scien-tific purposes, however, these indications can-not provide a reasonable instrument for measur-ing the level of crime. This is the place of sta-tistics, regardless of the circumspection andscepticism surrounding the analyses.

Such scepticism is justified on the groundsthat statistics cannot reflect the real complexityof crime. Sometimes, only a small percentageof criminal activity can be perceived throughstatistics; that is, crimes reported to the police,passed on to the public prosecutor and referredto the courts.

With this in mind, we will review Moçam-bique’s criminal records for the past decade.The number of cases entered into the court sys-tem increased from 18 914 cases in 1990, to 22 8853 the following year. From 1992 with 20 210, the number of cases dropped to 10 510in 1996. In 1997, the data almost doubled from

95

Mondelane

the previous year to 21 564, then decreasedover the following years to 14 491 in 1998 and14 712 in 1999. (See Table 1.)

Again, one clarification has to be made. Theabove analyses have considered only casesbrought to the court system. They therefore donot include the large number of crimes reportedto the police but for whatever reason (lawful ornot) were not taken further, or cases referred tothe public prosecutor’s office and not trans-ferred to the courts. Moreover, they do notinclude data of so-called “grey crimes” – i.e.the considerable amount of crimes not reportedto the competent authority and rather dealt withby alternative mechanisms of dispute resolution(e.g. at family level, or by local, traditional orreligious authorities).

Regarding the extent of crime, it is not possi-ble to enumerate here on all the categories ofcrime as prescribed by law. Crimes againstproperty, life and physical integrity are, howev-er, the most frequent cases. In addition, eco-nomic crimes are increasingly evolving. Fraudresulting in the withdrawal of large quantitiesof money from the state system, public or pri-vate banks, armed robberies and motor vehiclerobberies, are frequently reported, especially inthe major cities such as Maputo, Beira,Nampula and Nacala.

Drug trafficking cases are also reportedalmost every year. Several factors have led tothis situation, an important factor being thestrategic location of Moçambique: its longcoastline and the existence of many naturalports makes the country a preferable transship-

ment spot for the large quantities of drugs pro-duced in and exported from the Asian conti-nent, destined for sale in Africa and Europe.3

Drug trafficking is associated with corruptionand money laundering. A considerable amountof money is generally used in bribery aimed atremoving barriers. From migration and customsofficers to police of any kind, public prosecu-tors and judges are elected targets of this newcriminal activity.

When examining cases submitted to thecourts, it is clear that a diligent effort has beenmade to sabotage the legal process. In manycases, judges are confronted with incomplete ortampered with files. The responsible personsare often permitted to leave the country, evenwhen caught in the act. In most cases only peo-ple with minor responsibility – e.g. those usedin the process of transportation or simpleguards of the premises – are arrested andcharged. Drug trafficking is, however, a crimewhere the victim is the whole society.

2. CAUSES OF CRIME For the purpose of clarity and objectivity, thecauses of crime can be grouped into exogenousand endogenous causes. Exogenous factors areexternally determined factors which create anadequate environment for crime. Endogenousfactors are those generated within society.

The new world economic order, representedby globalisation and the imposition of marketeconomy and structural adjustment throughpolices of the Bretton Woods institutions, hasplaced tremendous pressure on peripheral

Table 1: Criminal cases in provincial courts

1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999

Not decided 51 992 61 048 70 249 78 270 84 560 76 468 82 426 81 323 91 831 98 915Entered 18 914 22 853 20 210 16 744 13 230 12 146 10 510 21 564 14 491 14 712Decided 9858 13 652 12 189 10 454 21 322 6188 11 613 11 056 7407 7387Transferred 61 048 70 249 78 270 84 560 76 468 82 426 81 323 91 831 98 915 106 240

Table 2: Evolution of criminal cases

1991/90 1992/91 1993/92 1994/93 1995/94 1996/95 1997/96 1998/97 1998/98

Not decided 117.4 115.1 111.4 108.0 90.4 107.8 98.7 112.9 107.7Entered 120.8 88.4 82.9 79.0 91.8 86.5 205.2 67.2 101.5Decided 138.5 89.3 85.8 204.0 29.0 187.7 95.2 67.0 99.7Transferred 115.1 111.4 108.0 90.4 107.8 98.7 112.9 107.7 107.4

Mondelane

96

economies and on social life, thereby negative-ly affecting developing countries. The shift ofdecision centres from the state to economicmonopolies or transnational entities has debili-tated the state. Economic globalisation has ren-dered national control meaningless, especiallyin developing countries.

“It has made the decision-making autonomyof governments vulnerable to choices madeelsewhere, over which they have little influ-ence or power” (Faria 2000).4

Additionally, the privatisation process removedthe self-funding capacity of the state, therebyaffecting social programmes like providing forbasic needs such as health care, education,housing and social security. Furthermore, pri-vatisation has resulted in vast numbers ofunemployment and a large number of com-plaints over compensation that have erupted inlabour disputes.

The new economic order is therefore anexternal imposition to developing countriesresulting in large numbers of jobless that, asso-ciated to the ever-growing cost of living, isconducive to criminal activity.

Endogenous causes comprise a combinationof distinct elements. We do not aim here to pro-vide a scientific or even a systematic set ofcauses, nor do we intend to provide an analysisof the individual causes. Rather, we shall referto some general social factors leading to crime.As referred to above, an up-to-date reading ofthe current social reality is essential for identifi-cation of the causes, especially after the violentand large-scale displacement as a consequenceof war.

This being said, it has been pointed out thatexcessive consumption of alcohol is often asso-ciated with crime: most reported murders arecommitted after the abusive use of alcohol.This is a problem affecting both urban and ruralareas. The consumption of alcohol is tradition-ally pervasive and socially acceptable. It maybe argued that it is not a cause per se, but rathera factor that creates an enabling environmentfor crime.

Another endogenous factor is the consider-able weight of tradition regarding sorcery.Witch doctors alleging that a particular personhas caused misfortune to someone haveinspired a significant number of crimes. Asglobalisation strips away social and moral val-ues, replacing them with values attached to a

market economy, sorcery is increasingly gain-ing popularity in society. The reason may bethat people seek refuge in what has remained interms of African identity.

Moçambican society is still in the process ofmending its war wounds. The war generatedlarge quantities of arms that are now being usedeither for trafficking or violent crimes.

Moreover, large caches of weapons andammunitions are found in the forests, providinga permanent source for arms dealers. The gov-ernment has instituted a project to transformguns into farming tools. Considerable amountsof armament were located and destroyed as aresult, but there is still a long way to go in thestruggle to remove weapons from the wronghands.

Another important cause of crime is the factthat, for long periods, people were subjected toviolence and war. The consumption of marijua-na by combatants has created a “readiness” toresort to crime and violence, especially whenassociated with alcohol. In regions deeplyaffected by war in the past, violent murders arefrequently reported. The situation calls for acareful examination of the process of socialreintegration of former combatants, especiallychild soldiers.

3. COPING WITH CRIME It is important to mention current developmentsin Moçambique that are aimed at tackling theincreasing crime rate. Education is regarded asfundamental for achieving good results in fight-ing crime. It is in this spirit that a police acade-my was created to train police members,including criminal investigation officers.Similarly, an institution for judicial educationwas set up and is currently preparing its firstcourse. Judges (magistrates), public attorneys,defenders, clerks and other justice officials andprison guards will attend the centre. Due to aserious shortage of trained personnel, the centrewill primarily provide basic training courses forjudges and attorneys serving district courts, andwho have no legal education. The centre willalso provide induction courses for lawyersembracing the judiciary.

Joint training programmes for all thoseinvolved in the administration of justice areregarded as highly important. These pro-grammes enhance friendship and good coopera-tion in the course of work.

Mondelane

97

Drug trafficking is also associated with theconsumption of drugs. To tackle this problem acentral body was created, tasked with coordi-nating efforts aimed at combating crime.

Even assuming that well-trained personnelare available in the country, a shortage ofresources will still present a great problem. It isclearly understood that Moçambique cannotcope alone with highly organised internationalcrime. As a result, solid cooperation in combat-ing crime is fundamental among countries inthe region and at international level. A singlecountry, especially in the developing world,cannot eradicate organised and cross-bordercrime. It requires joint efforts, good coopera-tion, law enforcement and crime combatingendeavours. Countries need to meet regularly toexchange information and technology so thatpositive results can be achieved. Different legalsystems, languages and sometime culturesshould not deter the creation of meaningfulrelationships. Friendship, when inspired by thesame ideals and goals such as fighting crimeand developing peace and stability in societies,is achievable.

CONCLUSIONIs there a better society; a society without mis-ery, abject poverty, joblessness, violence andcrime? The well-known assertions that everysociety has its deserving criminals (Lacas-sagne) or that society has the criminals that it

wants (H Becker) are no longer accurate.Societies are now part of a global network. Asreferred to above, exogenous factors play animportant role in creating an enabling environ-ment for crime. The disintegration of the tradi-tional family, of the social fibre and of solidari-ty are also elements conducive to crime.

Globalisation has blurred national bound-aries. Cross-border criminal organisations areflourishing and operating in various regionssimultaneously. In addition, products of crimeare transported from one country to another,within the region or transhipped to distantplaces. Furthermore, it can be asserted that themedia and movie industry, which exposesscenes of violence and crime, are unfortunatelyinspiring criminals.

The crime rate is growing quantitatively andin complexity, but it is not followed by arespective strengthening of the institutionalcapacity to combat it. The police, the first lineenforcers, public attorneys and the court systemare not equipped with adequate tools for com-bating crime. Providing the police and the courtsystem with well-trained personnel and the nec-essary resources, is vital for tackling crime in asociety in transition.

Finally, corruption is a social cancer thatdemands immediate eradication. A global prob-lem requires a global solution. Industrialisedand developing countries must combine effortsif good results are to be expected.

Mondelane

98

1) Samora Machel, 1983: 12 A luta contra o

subdesenvol vimento, “Material, moral andideological corruption, bribery, the searchfor self comfort, nepotism – that is, favourson the grounds of particular friendships orpreferences in job allocation favouring fam-ily members, friends or people from one’sown area are part of the system of life thatwe want to destroy … Everyone whodiverts from our political line will have notolerance from us. We will be intransigent… We will not hesitate in exposing him topeople harmed by his behaviour.”

2) John Henry Wigmore, The Egyptian LegalSystem, 1, A Panorama of the World’s

Legal Systems, 14-15 (West Publ:1982).3) To illustrate the ever-growing number of

cases of narcotraffic, the following exam-ples are offered:

Case A: 1993 – 10 containers of goods(clothes) imported from India, wereapprehended by police – 50 000metaquolon, mandrax pills were found.Case B: 1995 – 40 tons of haxixe (drug

extracted from cannabis sativa) in twocontainers were apprehended by thepolice. The product was packed in boxesnormally used for cashew nut exports.The man escorting the truck was arrested.Another, arrested and charged, was foundinnocent. Similarities of names (with thereal owner of goods) led to his arrest. Case C: 1996 – a drug plant for the fabri-cation of mandrax was dismantled bypolice in Matola and 10 Pakistanis werearrested. The public prosecutor assignedto the case was expelled after freeingdetainees.Case D: 1998 – 12 tons of haxixe wastransshiped in Quissanga, in the northernprovince of Cabo Delgado. Many werearrested and charged in connection withthe crime. Again, the real owners werenot found.

4) José Eduardo Faria, Judicial power in lawand society: draft for discussion on compar-ative judicial policy 2000: 1.

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTIONThis paper will address the characteristics ofthe current fight against crime in Ukraine, themajor problems facing Ukrainian law-enforce-ment agencies, factors affecting the fightagainst crime and potential crime-fightingactivities.

Many of the statistics quoted below arederived from the work and surveys conductedby the Ukrainian Centre for Economic andPolitical Studies (UCEPS), which I represent.The UCEPS is a public non-governmentalorganisation engaging in studies in the fields offoreign and domestic policy, national securityand defence.

1. CHARACTERISTICS OF THE CURRENT FIGHTAGAINST CRIME AND MAJOR PROBLEMS FACINGUKRAINIAN LAW ENFORCEMENT AGENCIES In 1999 and early 2000, the UCEPS managedto consolidate positive trends that have showedup over the past few years. From 1996 to 1999,the number of registered criminal offencesdecreased by 100 000. There were fewer regis-tered intended murders, including assasina-tions, with the proportion of murders disclosedincreasing from 13% in 1995 to 89% in 1999.Juvenile crime has shown a declining trend.

The fight against organised crime is on-going: 870 tough criminal groups involving3200 members were neutralised in 1995, whilein 1999, 1160 criminal groups numbering 5000active members were disclosed by law enforce-ment agencies.

If we compare the crime rate calculated per10 000 people, we find that Ukraine is in a bet-ter position than its neighbours. In 1999, this

figure for Poland was 290 criminal offencesper 10 000 people; for Russia – 205; Romania– 157; Belarus – 117; and for Ukraine – 111.However, the problem of combating crime con-tinues to challenge law enforcement agenciesand is of great concern to society as a whole.

According to an All-Ukrainian sociologicalsurvey conducted by the UCEPS in June 2000,combating crime is a problem of the greatestconcern to 47.4% of Ukrainian citizens; while31% of the respondents worry about briberyand corruption in agencies of state power andadministration.

It should be emphasised that the above-men-tioned problems rank five and six respectivelyaccording to priority and rank just after prob-lems of declining standards of living, wage andpension arrears, unemployment, etc.

We turn now to the major problems facinglaw enforcement agencies and that contributeto the high crime rate.

The first major problem is the unacceptablyhigh proportion of serious crimes. In 1999, thisfigure amounted to about 33% of the total num-ber of registered criminal offences. This figureincreased almost 2.5 times over the past 10years. There is no decrease in the number ofcriminal offences committed by recidivists(22.5%). In 1999, some 1000 criminal offencesinvolved the use of firearms and 123 crimeswere committed with the help of explosivedevices.

The second major problem is corruption andbribery, which is growing at an alarming rate.In particular, corruption affects the formationand functioning of state authorities, as well asthe implementation of state policy, and it is

99

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime: Ukraine

Igor Zhdanov

100

Zhdanov

used in political rivalries. The 1990–1999 peri-od saw registered corruption cases growing 2.6times (see graph). According to data of theProcuracy General of Ukraine, in 1999, 2600acts of corruption were revealed; 768 criminalcases were initiated in court, including 200 con-cerning grafts accepted by high-ranking civilservants.

The statistics mentioned do not, however,reflect the full situation. The application of theLaw of Ukraine “On Corruption” resulted in5162 administrative law cases being initiatedagainst 4300 civil servants in 1999. During thefirst quarter of 2000 alone, 2000 protocols oncorrupt offences were referred to the courts.The pervasion of corruption is evidenced by thefact that, as indicated by various assessments,entrepreneurs in Ukraine spend 6.5% of theiraverage monthly income to bribe officials.World Bank experts assess the annual sum ofbribes in Ukraine to be at the level of a two-month trading turnover of the country.

A serious problem is corruption in the sphereof privatisation. Failure to fulfil investmentobligations following the privatisation act creates favourable conditions for corruption.Today, almost every third privatisation agree-ment is not being fulfilled.

Pervasive corruption in the energy sectormay bring this strategically vital industry out-side the control of the state. In the first quarterof 2000, 600 criminal offences were disclosedin this sector, with related losses amounting to60.4 million hryvnias.

A third problem is the growth of crime in theeconomic sector. In the year 2000, 18 300 eco-nomic crimes were disclosed, up 34% from

1999. The crime rate is growing in the bankingsector as well: in 1999, violations were foundin 713 Ukrainian banks and 88 criminal caseswere initiated. In the first quarter of 2000, 37criminal cases were brought against bankemployees.

A fourth major problem is that criminal group-ings consider Ukraine as an advantageous routeto transport drugs as well as a lucrative drugmarket. Some 42 000 criminal offences wereregistered in 1999 (up 2000 compared to 1998),which were connected with illegal drug traffick-ing; 759 illegal drug-producing sites were elimi-nated. According to a United Nations assess-ment, drug sale profits run at $400 annually.

A fifth problem is the growth in illegalmigration. In 1999, 14 646 illegal migrantswere detained, of whom 11 000 were appre-hended on the western border, with the remain-der being caught on the Ukrainian–Russian bor-der. Ukraine is clearly becoming a transit routefor migrants travelling from Asian countries(Afghanistan, Pakistan, Vietnam, China andBangladesh) to Western Europe.

In terms of the current fight against crime, itshould be noted that in spite of certain positivechanges, the problems facing law enforcementagencies in Ukraine are acute and require ade-quate responses.

2. FACTORS AFFECTING THE FIGHT AGAINSTCRIMEUCEPS experts believe that, in particular, thefollowing factors obstruct crime-fightingefforts.• The legislative regulations for combating

crime do not meet the needs of the time. TheUkrainian Criminal Code in force today wasadopted in 1961, some 40 years ago. Some ofits provisions are outdated and are no longerapplied. The Code was prepared under condi-tions of a plan-based socialist system anddoes not contain provisions concerning cor-

pora delicti of many criminal offences. Inparticular, it does not apply to criminaloffences connected with the peculiarities ofmarket relations, as well as with new crimesinvolving the use of information technology.(According to assessments presented at the10th Congress on Crime Prevention that tookplace in Vienna, April 2000, “computer pira-cy” generates profits of $500 million annual-ly.)

Number of registered acts of corruption

101

Zhdanov

• Law enforcement agencies are not trained towork under the new conditions. Militia andprocuracy officers are not experienced tofight crime in the banking sector or thatwhich is occurring in the privatisation of stateproperty. They have had to learn on-the-job,so to speak, creating specific subdivisions tomatch current requirements (in particular,subdivisions to fight crime in the economicsector, organised crime, illegal drug traffick-ing, corruption, etc.).

• Logistical and financial support to lawenforcement agencies is not sufficient. Onaverage, monthly remuneration for militiaofficers stands at $60, which is barely higherthan the official minimum wage; wagesarrears owed to employees of the UkrainianMinistry of Internal Affairs stands at 63 mil-lion hryvnias (some $12 million) as of 1 July2000. Law enforcement agencies are short oftransportation means, computers and moderncommunication facilities.

• Faced with the expansion of transnationalcrime, Ukrainian internal affairs bodies havefailed to establish efficient cooperation withtheir counterparts in other countries. The col-lapse of the Soviet Union entailed a break-down of a single system of law enforcementbodies, while criminal elements did not losetheir established links and even enhanced theefficiency of their activities due to the “trans-parency” of borders between the Common-wealth of Independent States (CIS) countries.Furthermore, in the early 1990s Ukrainiancrime began its active expansion towards thecountries of Western and Central Europe.This factor was not taken into full considera-tion by law enforcement agencies, laggingbehind the growth in crime both in Ukraineand beyond its borders. The Ukrainian Inter-lope Bureau was only established severalyears ago.

The above mentioned factors exert a negativeinfluence on the fight against crime, contribut-ing to its expansion.

3. PERSPECTIVES OF THE FIGHT AGAINST CRIMEIN UKRAINE We will now address perspectives on the fightagainst crime, specific measures taken by lawenforcement agencies intended to counteractthe above-mentioned negative factors, as wellas proposals made by UCEPS experts.

Regarding crime-fighting legislation, theVerkhovna Rada has received a new CriminalCode that takes into consideration presenttrends in the evolution of crime and thatembodies advances make in law science. Draftlaws are being prepared to provide for criminalliability in terms of money laundering and toensure a better reflection of the particularitiesin the banking sector and the protection ofintellectual property rights.

The Ministry of Internal Affairs is develop-ing further cooperation with its counterparts inother CIS countries: the Council of Ministersand the Interstate Anti-terrorist Centre havebeen established. In 1999, 26 people wereextradited based on demands made by theInterlope Bureau. Relevant cooperation agree-ments have been concluded with Westernneighbours, including the Czech Republic,Poland and Hungary.

Ukraine and the European Union have statedthe need to extend cooperation in the field oflaw enforcement, in particular, in the fightagainst illegal migration, organised crime, andmoney laundering. A programme entitledUkrainian–American Cooperation inCombating Corruption and Organised Crimefor the 2000–2005 period was signed in July2000. According to the Ukrainian Ministry ofInternal Affairs, this programme is expected toresult in fewer wilful murders, assaults, rob-beries and theft of citizens’ private property inthe first quarter of 2000.

UCEPS experts believe that necessary andfundamental conditions to counteract corrup-tion include political will on the part of high-ranking state leaders as well as transparency interms of state power. The absence of these con-ditions stultifies such counteracting efforts. It isalso necessary to solve the following problems: • Reducing the number of so-called “bribe-

inclinable” functions of state administration(issuance of permits, licences, certificates,etc. ).

• Defining, through legislation, procedures fortaking administrative decisions.

• Ensuring transparency of the decision-mak-ing process with the use of competitions, ten-ders, etc.

• Raising criminal liability for corrupt prac-tices.

To fulfil these tasks, the UCEPS experts sug-gest the following measures be taken:

102

Zhdanov

• It is necessary to approve legislatively a codeof civil servant behaviour, which wouldembody a system of principles and values ofcivil service and models of a civil servant’sbehaviour in certain situations. In particular,such a code should include recommendationsin respect of a functionary’s proper actions inthe event that his/her pecuniary self-interestarises or somebody attempts to offer a bribeto him/her, etc.

• It is necessary to define legislatively and tomake transparent the procedure for grantingcredits guaranteed by state authorities, aswell as to make transparent the use of budgetfunds and to ensure the implementation oflaws already enacted.

• Governmental guarantees regarding foreigncredits for enterprises (institutions, organisa-tions) should be granted by way of exceptionand only with Parliament’s consent. It isexpedient to introduce mandatory publicreports by the head of the government on theeffectiveness of using such credits (includingsuch reports before Parliament), with detailedinformation being published in the media.

• Conditions and restrictions in respect of plan-ning Cabinet ministers’ spending of the

reserve fund should be clearly determined bylaw, with a practice of regular reports on theuse of such funds introduced.

• Leaders found chargeable with misusing bud-get funds should be subject (in addition toother sanctions) to penalties which, for exam-ple, could amount to 5–10% of the budgetexpenditures used for inappropriate purposes.

• It is necessary to introduce a practice ofdeclaring gifts received (worth, for instance,more than $10). This would mean feweropportunities for illegal enrichment on thepart of civil servants. UCEPS experts suggestthat the media should publish lists of func-tionaries convicted of corrupt practices, mis-feasance, peculation, excess of powers, etc. Itwould be appropriate to impose a life ban onsuch persons from taking civil serviceoffices.

CONCLUSIONThe fight against crime can only be effective ifthe political will on the part of state leadershipexists and if there are highly proficient lawenforcement agencies that interact with society.

I believe this conference will contribute tothe cause of combating crime.

INTRODUCTIONThere is a common sense notion in NorthernIreland, permeating the police and sections ofthe media, which claims that crime is related to“the troubles” only in that paramilitary vio-lence has siphoned off criminals, and oncepeace comes, the former terrorists will becomegangsters for real. Ordinary crime will thusescalate in the future, much as it has in othersocieties undergoing democratic transition. Inthis paper, I challenge this common senseview. I briefly outline the pattern of crimetrends in Ireland between 1945 and 1995, withparticular reference to Northern Ireland. Someof the unique features of crime trends inNorthern Ireland will be identified, which helpto explain the relatively low level of ordinarycrime despite years of civil unrest and commu-nal violence. Stress will be laid on the struc-tures of informal social control that have sur-vived through the conflict, which both help tosuppress crime and manage it locally. Contrastswill be made with the structures of informalsocial control under apartheid, which help toexplain the higher levels of crime in SouthAfrica. The paper will end by speculating onthe effect the current peace process has onthese structures of informal social control inNorthern Ireland, and thus the likely patterns ofcrime that could accompany Northern Ireland’stransition.

1. CRIME TRENDS IN IRELAND, 1945–95Official crime statistics reveal several trends inIrish crime since the Second World War (forgreater detail see Brewer, Lockhart andRodgers, 1997):

• An exponential increase in gross levels ofcrime in both parts of Ireland from the 1960s.This occurred a decade or so later than inGreat Britain and most other industrialisedsocieties.

• A lower crime rate per head of population inboth parts of Ireland than in neighbouringBritish and European countries.

• Historically, a lower crime rate in the northof Ireland compared to the south, despite itshigher levels of industrialisation and urbani-sation.

• An increase in the crime rate in NorthernIreland a few years before the onset of “thetroubles”.

• Northern Ireland’s crime rate is now higherthan the Irish Republic’s.

• The persistence of relatively low levels ofordinary crime in Northern Ireland through-out the years of “the troubles” compared toGreat Britain and other European and indus-trialised societies.

These trends pose conundrums both for crimi-nology and commentators on “the troubles”(conundrums addressed explicitly in Brewer,Lockhart and Rodgers, 1999). Of greater inter-est here though, is the structure of informalsocial control that persists in Northern Irelandand helps to explain these trends. This structureis such that Northern Ireland was, and in manyrespects remains, a traditional society and itscrime trends need to be set against this culturalbackdrop.

Northern Ireland’s industrialisation took ontraditional forms, being structured by two soli-daristic communities segregated by religion.Modernisation expressed itself in traditional

103

The Growth, Extent and Causes of Crime:Northern Ireland

John Brewer

104

Brewer

form because it was structured by NorthernIreland’s sectarian divide. Religious differencesensured the survival of separate communities.Through such processes as endogamy, residen-tial segregation, distinct cultural and politicalassociations and a segregated school system,the social organisation of the two communitiesensured their effortless self-perpetuation in tra-ditional forms. Industrialisation helped sustainthese traditional forms by reproducing sectariandivision through largely segregated workforcesand communal patterns of recruitment. Thiswas often reinforced by the fact that industrialdevelopment was mostly located in one or otherof the segregated communities. Industrialdevelopment in Northern Ireland thus tookplace in a way that helped to reproduce twoclose-knit, homogeneous, traditional communi-ties divided by religion.

During the 1950s, however, NorthernIreland’s industrial sector changed significantlywith the decline in Northern Ireland’s old stapleindustries and the growth of the service sector.With the decline of the traditional industriesduring the 1950s and 1960s, there simultane-ously began an erosion of the traditional com-munities they helped to reproduce. The formsin which industrialisation had up to that pointoccurred began to be replaced in the 1960s by aservice and public sector that did not so readilyreproduce close-knit, segregated traditionalcommunities. Recruitment patterns were not socommunally based and tended towards theemployment of women and part-time labour.The religious and social boundaries that definedthese traditional communities also started tochange as sectarian patterns were challenged inthe 1960s by the rise of the Catholic middleclass, improvements in Catholic access to high-er education and the emergence of campaignsfor civil rights. This challenge to tradition inthe 1960s coincided with social changes ofother kinds. The North was receptive to theinfluence of British mass popular culture deliv-ered by television and other media and culturallinks with Britain, and thus also to the socialchanges influencing Britain’s own crimeincrease in the 1950s.

Once civil unrest broke out in NorthernIreland at the end of the 1960s, the escalation inordinary crime provoked by the violenceincreased the crime rate. Paradoxically, thecontinuance of sectarian strife ensured that the

remnants of these traditional close-knit commu-nities survived, reducing the criminogeniceffect of civil unrest. Civil unrest intensifiedsome types of ordinary crime, but not all.However, in certain working class areas “thetroubles” help to reinforce and reproduce socialtradition, thereby protecting the communitiesfrom the social dislocation and breakdownoccurring elsewhere in Ireland and Britainunder the impulse of social and economicchange. The survival of traditional social formsin some local contexts mediates the socialdeprivation that also characterises these sameareas, further protecting them from the escala-tion in crime seen in similarly deprived areaselsewhere.

Civil unrest, in short, has helped to sustainstructures of informal social control, reducingthe otherwise criminogenic effect of communalviolence (this is addressed in greater detail inBrewer, Lockhart and Rodgers 1998).

2. CRIME AND INFORMAL SOCIAL CONTROLSociological theories of crime causation arecharacterised by focusing on the range of socialforces that impinge upon and constrain people.Since Robert Park outlined what has becomeknown as the social disorganisation theory ofcrime causation, senses of community, stabilityand tradition have been associated with lowerlevels of crime. The causes of crime are linkedto the erosion of social control as a result ofsocial disorganisation, revealing itself in theloosening of neighbourhood, community, fami-ly and religious bonds.

These notions are central to the work ofHirschi (1969) and what is known as “controltheory”. Controls, however, can be formal, aswith the courts and police, and informal, wherethey reside in the social structure of the com-munity.

Unlike formal sanctions, which originate inthe deliberate effort to control crime, informalsocial controls emerge as by-products of rolerelationships established for other purposes(Kornhauser 1978: 24). This can be seen mostlyin the family and local neighbourhood, and therole reciprocity involved in a shared communi-ty identity.

A great deal of the informal social control lit-erature focuses on the role of the family in sup-plying surveillance and control of crime. Thefamily, however, is not the only locus of infor-

105

Brewer

mal social control. Bursik and Grasmick (1993)recognised three levels: private (family andclose friends); parochial (local neighbourhoodand nearby acquaintances); and public (largercommunities and external agencies). Recentresearch by Taylor (1996, 1997) suggests thatthe parochial level is particularly important inencouraging feelings of social involvement andattachment, and that crime is affected by theemotional investment people place in theirneighbourhood and their social integration into it.

A sense of community and the existence of ashared local culture form a third dimension ofinformal social control. For example, Foster(1995) examines the role of informal socialcontrol in an east London housing estate withstatistically high levels of crime, to show itseffects on residents’ perception of the area asnot having a “crime problem”, which was itselfa form of crime prevention. Her work chal-lenges the stereotype that communal structures,in which informal social control is embedded,are absent in poorer neighbourhoods. Hope andFoster (1992) placed value on the culture of a“problem estate” in influencing levels of disor-derliness and criminality, and Wilson (1991)argued that the criminogenic effects of povertyin inner-city ghettos was mediated by the different cultural experiences of residents. According to Hope and Foster (1992: 501),community dynamics in a neighbourhood con-sistently affect the crime it experiences (alsosee Foster 1990).

It is in this sense of community and sharedculture that Braithwaite (1989) locates his dis-cussion of shame in deterring crime and in rein-tegrating the offender afterwards, whichreduces the likelihood of recidivism. Strongsocial cohesion, with its feelings of mutualtrust, group loyalties, and densely enmeshedinterdependencies, is one of the chief definingcharacteristics of the communitarian society inwhich he sees reintegrative shaming working toreduce crime (1989: 85-6). Shame is less effec-tive as a sanction in a highly mobile and anony-mous society where people lack social bondswith their neighbours. While Braithwaite seesreintegrative shaming as being undercut byurbanisation (1989: 101), it can survive in the“urban villages” found in some localities inlarge cities where strong senses of local com-munity survive.

3. STRUCTURES OF INFORMAL SOCIAL CONTROLIN BELFASTPart of the study that colleagues and I under-took on crime in Ireland in the 50 years follow-ing the end of the Second World War, involvedan ethnographic study of crime in two parts ofBelfast. It is perhaps counter-intuitive today toargue that inner-city neighbourhoods in indus-trial cities have a sense of community (cf Foster1995). This sense of community, however, isvery localised, contingent upon the frames ofreference people use, the locality in which theylive and personal experiences of the quality ofrelationships that exist in their neighbourhood.These variations are not successfully capturedby objective statistical measurements for broadgeographical areas. There are several microsocial worlds or social structures co-existinglocally in Belfast, which statistical data cannottap in to because they are so localised.

The qualitative data in our study showed thatlocal experiences of community were mediatedby class, being stronger in the inner-city andworking-class neighbourhoods in our studyareas, and by experiences of social transforma-tion locally. Social change, population reloca-tion and housing redevelopment have affectedlocalities in varying degrees, but have notdestroyed a sense of community and local iden-tity everywhere. Nor is it the case that theserespondents were seeking symbolically torecreate a sense of community because of theexperience of individualisation in their dailylives. People’s accounts of their sense of com-munity incorporate the changing way in whichthey experience community in modern societycompared to the past, and in how they describethe experience of their daily lives rather than asymbolic recreation of past senses of communi-ty. People’s accounts of senses of communitydescribed their experiences of several socialprocesses locally, such as neighbourliness, thesurvival of an extended family kinship networkand high levels of participation in communityassociations and organisations. The socialprocesses of neighbourliness, extended familyand community identity that describe the localsocial structure in some areas of Belfast pro-vide mechanisms of informal social control. Incriminological literature, informal social con-trol is understood in two ways: surveillance bylocal residents; and norms of conduct by whichresidents are regulated (see Greenberg, Rohe

106

Brewer

and Williams 1985; Rosenbaum 1988). InBelfast, communal structures provide for sever-al mechanisms of informal social control,which either facilitate surveillance or sociallydisseminate norms of conduct.

The first mechanism of informal social con-trol is a local moral economy. The values ofthis moral economy were expressed most fre-quently in the form that “you don’t steal fromyour own”. This finding contradicts data fromthe regular British crime surveys which showsthat the class fraction which performs the mostcrime, at least in volume terms, is also the mostvictimised. However, members of a mother andtoddler group on a large housing estate in WestBelfast explained that “you would get people inthe private estates to talk more about crime,they’re more burgled than we are. Off therecord, we are sort of cocooned from criminals,they don’t steal from their own”. This moraleconomy therefore rules out crime in certainclose-knit areas, at least by its own local crimi-nals, displacing it elsewhere. It also rules outcrime against certain categories of people whoare protected by the local moral economy.Thus, several people identified that crimesagainst children, the elderly and Church proper-ty were defined as beyond acceptable boundslocally. An East Belfast community workersaid of his neighbourhood:

“This is a parochial community around hereand if the crime is against a pensioner,nobody will be spared. I have known a casewhere a parent actually contacted the policewhen they found out that their son had bro-ken into a pensioner’s house.”

This moral economy only works for criminalswho are from the area and who share the code.Local crime is often perpetrated by outsiderswho are escaping the constraints of the moraleconomy in their area or by people who do notsubscribe to the code. The anti-social behaviourby local youths inflicted on elderly people, forexample, seems to suggest that the values arenot shared by all. Changes are occurring asstructural adaptations to the altered circum-stances young unemployed people find them-selves in. Some people comment on the declinein the ethical code of local lags. However, evenif local criminals defy the code, the existence ofa moral economy results in greater outrage atcrimes performed, with its knock-on effects ofincreased effort to apprehend the perpetrators

by the community itself or by the paramili-taries. This sense of outrage can sometimessuccessfully overcome resistance to policeinvolvement in official crime management.

Another mechanism for local crime manage-ment that arises from the survival of communi-ty structures is the existence of a “localgrapevine”, a network of informal contactswhich passes on knowledge about perpetrators,the whereabouts of stolen property, and of thesorts of people who can best apprehend or pro-vide immediate satisfactory justice in theabsence of reporting it to the police. Thegrapevine is also the mechanism by which thelocal moral economy is socially disseminatedand by means of which gossip is transmittedlocally. Such gossip imposes social constraintsupon offenders arising from shame and is ameans of reintegrating them once their shameand contrition is talked about by others downthe grapevine (on gossip in reintegrative sham-ing see Braithwaite 1989: 76). As a residentfrom West Belfast said, “if a crime happenedagainst an old person or a child, maybe if ithappened in [name of area], everybody wouldbe talking about it”. A young adult from WestBelfast indicated how the grapevine workedeven on a large estate:

“Although this is a large estate, there isalways somebody who knows something,always somebody. There is not too manypeople that keep things to themselves.There is always ‘did you hear about that’,and then it works its way around thegrapevine.”

The grapevine ensures that knowledge is passedon to victims or even the relatives of perpetra-tors. This is where neighbourliness and anextended family kinship network become par-ticularly useful in local crime management.

This system permits do-it-yourself policingas an alternative to formal social control by thestate. Many respondents told of how they react-ed as victims when they knew the perpetrator asa result of the local grapevine. Some wentstraight to the paramilitaries, some to thepolice, but others used the neighbourhood’snetwork of informal contacts to confront theparents. A member of a women’s group inWest Belfast, who was opposed to the paramili-taries, explained how she would respond: “youwouldn’t like to see a child get punished in abeating, you wouldn’t like to see your own

107

Brewer

harmed, so we went around and let the parentsknow.” There are many cases of this occurringin the project’s research data. A woman fromEast Belfast said the same for a Protestant area:“You would just go to the family.”

Do-it-yourself policing thus depends for itsefficacy precisely on the survival of communitystructures. Where a sense of community sur-vives, some neighbourhoods are able to bereadily mobilised to manage crime locally. Oneof the resources that can be mobilised is theremnant of legitimate authority that communityrepresentatives still possess. These representa-tives, including teachers, priests and pastors,and community and youth workers, oftenbecome alternatives to the RUC. Youth work-ers and priests, for example, explained howlocal people came to them to deal with specificincidents rather than go to the police. A priestin West Belfast said he was like a policemansometimes, being called out before the RUC:“The people wouldn’t ring the police, they’dring you directly, you got out and you went anddealt with it.” Other community resources thatcan be mobilised in local crime managementare the skills, finances and manpower of com-munity organisations involved in the develop-ment and servicing of local initiatives againstcrime.

The role that paramilitary organisations playin informal social control is also significant andis itself heavily conditional upon the survival ofcommunity structures. These social processesdisseminate the information that makes para-military policing possible and efficacious, andprovide the push for paramilitary organisationsto engage in it in the first place. Paramilitarypolicing is thus embedded in the local socialstructure that survives in some neighbourhoodsof Belfast. In West Belfast, some respondentsextolled the contribution made by the paramili-taries to the relatively low crime rate in thearea: “I think it is to the credit of the IRA thatcrime has been kept so low, because it hasnothing to do with the RUC, absolutely not.” Amiddle-aged man from a large estate, otherwisedeeply critical of the IRA, described matter-of-factly the situation in his neighbourhood: “Theparas would have been very much a big forcehere in curbing any sort of crime.” Reflectingthe code of the local moral economy, heexplained that the paramilitaries allowedrepeated offences outside the area, but if

offenders were active in West Belfast “wellthen, they were fair game to be shot, but if theywere outside the area, they weren’t hurting theirown people, and that was OK”. In East Belfastseveral people described the paramilitaries asthe unofficial police force. “The paras getthings done”, said one youth worker.

4. CRIME AND DEMOCRATIC TRANSITIONCivil unrest might appear to make Belfast aprime example of a city experiencing socialdisorganisation, but informal social controlshave survived. The role of paramilitary policingin popular crime management illustrates thatcivil unrest has played its part in differentiatingpeople’s experiences of disorganisation inBelfast.

Paramilitaries offer an alternative system ofsocial control. But paramilitary policing is onlyone of the ways in which civil unrest has facili-tated popular crime management, since civilunrest has also contributed to local senses ofcommunity in some neighbourhoods. Some res-idents used civil unrest as the key factor in theiraccount of the survival of community struc-tures. “The troubles have acted”, said one WestBelfast resident, “as a unifying force in variouscommunities.” “This community”, said anoth-er, “if there is an attack on it, you make a stand.There has always been strong links in the com-munity, it is due to the troubles that have keptthe community together.”

Conflict with out-groups always reinforcesthe sense of solidarity of the in-group, which iswhy residents from enclaves encircled byanother community always articulate thestrongest sense of community. The followingview, from a Protestant estate in West Belfast,is typical of all residents in enclave situations.He described the area as “like a very small vil-lage”. A resident from a Catholic area in EastBelfast, said much the same: “It is like a smallvillage community here, about three thousandpeople living in a half-mile radius, everybodyknows everybody else, it is very tight knit.”

In certain neighbourhoods, “the troubles”have therefore not resulted in social disorgani-sation but have instead had the effect of inhibit-ing the processes of social dislocation and com-munity breakdown. In areas where it is mostintense, civil unrest has produced a voluntaryghettoisation by restricting geographic mobilityand population relocation, producing socially

108

Brewer

homogeneous districts in religious, ethnic andclass terms. In-group solidarity has been rein-forced by conflict with an out-group. Thiscohesion is reflected in social processes such asthe survival of extended kinship networks,close-knit neighbourhood structures and a senseof living in solidaristic communities, with theirown local moral economy. Other ethnographiesof crime in working class neighbourhoods, forexample, show them to be less vibrant andcommunal than equivalent localities in ourstudy area (see, for example, Robins’s study of“Borough” in South London, 1992 and Wil-liams’s study of New York, 1989). Some of thisis due to benevolent housing policies (NorthernIreland has not seen the infamous tower blockto any great extent) or employment restrictionson geographic mobility. Northern Ireland isalso small, so families tend not to be disruptedeven where geographic mobility occurs. How-ever, civil unrest has also played its part.

The contrast with South Africa could not begreater. Apartheid essentially destroyed the pat-terns of informal social control that might havedeveloped in the black townships, and the bru-talising effect of apartheid far exceeded any-thing in Northern Ireland. Moreover, apart-heid’s form of policing (see Brewer 1994a) wasessentially to control race relations, leavingcrime unfettered in the townships so long as itdid not spread to “white areas”. In the absenceof informal social control structures and with-out much official crime management by thepolice, crime levels were astronomical in thetownships during the apartheid era (see Brewer1994b). In fact, crime was often seen as a ratio-nal economic choice in the face of apartheid’seconomic restrictions. With South Africa’sdemocratic transition, crime could no longer becontained in the townships by the Group AreasAct and it spread to “white areas”. Crime didnot necessarily increase with South Africa’sdemocratic transition, but it was certainly dis-placed. It is this displacement to formerly rela-

tively crime-free areas that explains the coun-try’s obsession with crime and the perceptionamong whites that crime rose dramatically withthe ending of apartheid.

Police and the media in Northern Irelandshowed a similar moral panic about crime withthe introduction of the IRA cease-fire in 1994,although the crime figures showed littleincrease between 1994 and 1995. This reflectedtheir key assumption about crime causation inNorthern Ireland: the paramilitaries are hoodsand fronts for organised crime, and once nolonger involved in political violence, paramili-taries will turn to ordinary crime. This wasnever an accurate view of most paramilitaryorganisations (the UDA excepted). While therehas been some increase in the crime rate sincethe cease-fire, it is not exponential, nor largerthan one might expect in any annual time seriesof crime data, although certain ordinary crimeshave increased, especially violence against theperson.

CONCLUSIONThe reason that crime levels have not explodedin Northern Ireland is because democratic tran-sition has not damaged the structures of infor-mal social control. Whatever breakdown islikely to occur in these structures with thearrival of peace will be slow, and crime is notexpected to escalate in the future. Even if thevoluntary ghettoisation diminishes with peace,Northern Ireland is very small geographically,so that population relocation is unlikely tocause any commensurate family breakup. Thereis no large homeless population for much thesame reason, reducing the criminogenic effectof homelessness.

Ordinary crime will increase – this is a truismof modern industrial societies – but will notescalate in the same way as other societiesundergoing transition. Time series data is need-ed to confirm this and we only await the fig-ures.

109

Brewer

BRAITHWAITE, J. 1989. Crime, Shame and

Reintegration. Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press.

BREWER, J.D. 1994a. Black and Blue: Policing

in South Africa. Oxford: The Clarendon Press.BREWER, J. D. (ed). 1994b. Crime and control.

Restructuring South Africa. London:Macmillan.

LOCKHART, B. AND RODGERS, P. 1997. Crime in

Ireland 1945-95. Oxford: The ClarendonPress.

LOCKHART, B. AND RODGERS, P. 1998. Informalsocial control and local crime management inBelfast. British Journal of Sociology, 49:570-585.

HEATH, A., BREEN, R. AND WHELAN, C. (eds.).1999. Crime in Ireland 1945-95. Ireland:

North and South. Oxford: Oxford UniversityPress.

BURSIK, R. AND GRASMICK, H. 1993.Neighbourhoods and Crime. Lexington:Lexington Books.

FOSTER, J. 1990. Villains: Crime and

Community in the Inner City, London:Routledge.

FOSTER, J. 1995. Informal social control andcommunity crime prevention. British Journal

of Criminology 35: 563-83.GREENBERG, S., ROHE, W. AND WILLIAMS, J.

1985. Informal Citizen Action and Crime

Prevention at the Neighbourhood Level.

Washington DC: US Department of Justice.HIRSCHI, T. 1969. Causes of Delinquency.

Chicago: University of Chicago Press.HOPE, T. AND FOSTER, J. 1992. Conflicting

forces: changing the dynamics of crime andcommunity on a “problem” estate. The

British Journal of Criminology 32: 488-504.KORNHAUSER, R. 1978. Social Causes of Delin-

quency, Chicago: University of ChicagoPress.

ROBINS, D. 1992. Tarnished Vision: Crime and

Conflict in the Inner City. Oxford: OxfordUniversity Press.

ROSENBAUM, D. 1988. Community crime pre-vention: a review and synthesis of the litera-ture. Justice Quarterly 5: 323-95.

TAYLOR, R. 1996. Neighbourhood responses todisorder and local attachments. Sociological

Forum 11: 41-74.TAYLOR, R. 1997. Social order and disorder of

street blocks and neighbourhoods. Journal of

Research in Crime and Delinquency 34: 34-65.

WILLIAMS, T.M. 1989. The Cocaine Kids: The

Inside Story of a Teenage Drug Ring.

Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley.WILSON, W. 1991. Studying inner-city social

dislocations. American Sociological Review

56: 1-14

REFERENCES

INTRODUCTIONDuring the past several years, the crime situa-tion in Russia has remained somewhat compli-cated due to several destructive factors thathave negatively affected the maintenance oflaw and order. In addition, criminals are oftenprotected by certain public institutions. Studieshave shown that the rate of growth in generalcrime figures during 1999 reflected previoustendencies. The number of criminal offencesincreased by 16% and, for the first time inmany years, exceeded the three million mark.By the beginning of 2000, the crime rate hadreached 2053 per 100 000 people. This increaseis the result of negative developments withinRussian society that occurred in previous years,but whose full effect is only now apparent.

Indicators of victimisation support the con-cept of the complexity of the current crime sit-uation in Russia. This is despite the fact thatthese indicators are far from comprehensive,and do not begin to reflect the reality of the sit-uation, even in general terms. However, evenofficial statistics indicate that the level of vic-timisation increased by 20% during 1999alone, with 1512 victims reported per 100 000of the population. These figures are evidence ofthe unacceptably high level of victimisation inRussia, even disregarding high latency.

1. PAINS OF TRANSITIONThe cost of Russia’s rejection of its totalitarianpast has proved to be high. The transition todemocracy has been painful, and the surge incrime has been accompanied by an increase indrug addiction, alcoholism and psychiatric dis-orders. Such has been the reaction of Russian

society to social change in the post-Soviet era. Another problem experienced during this

transition phase is that of public corruption.Corruption has, for many years, met with verylittle resistance, which has allowed it to devel-op into an independent and somewhat influen-tial social phenomenon. It now, together withcrime and ethnic conflict, poses a clear andpresent danger to public security.

Despite significant reform in the manage-ment of the economy, corruption will remain acritical problem in the foreseeable future. Thisis largely due to the fact that, although the for-mula for political power is different today,managerial structures, mechanisms and, moreimportantly, social psychology remain un-changed. Extortion of bribes by bureaucrats forall manner of permits, registrations, licensing,loans, etc., has reached epidemic proportions.

If we believe the maxim that crime is a nor-mal reaction to an abnormal situation, then onecan at least understand bribery. However, thetime has come for society to recognise thegravity and consequences of corrupt behaviour.

2. FACTORS AFFECTING CRIME LEVELS IN POST-COMMUNIST RUSSIAIt is accepted that any phenomenon should beviewed within the context of social realitiesand historical conditions. From that point ofview, we should note that the crime situation inRussia is negatively affected by two maingroups of factors: • External factors: These include economic,

socio-political, psychological, medico-socialand ecological factors. Economic and socio-political factors are consequences of the

111

Crime in Russia at the Turn of the 21st Century

Vitali Kvashis & Michael Babaev

112

Kvashis & Babaev

1998 economic crisis, which in many wayspredetermined:

– a general lowering of the standard of liv-ing– an increase in the economic divide, ie.,the rise of a new stratum of super-rich, andthe descent of part of the middle class intoindigence– the deformation of Russia’s economicstructure, and a growing disparity in socialand economic development between regions– the de-industrialisation of the country,evidenced in the destruction of industrialpotential and a shift of investment to theraw materials sector of the economy– the growing corruption in governmentagencies and the increase in white-collarcrime.

Previously planned positive transformation ofthe main macroeconomic indicators could notprevent the significant increase in social ten-sion. The number of people earning below theminimum income level has increased over thepast decade. By the beginning of 2000 the fig-ure had risen to 23% of the population (33 mil-lion people). • Internal factors: These include high levels of

criminal recidivism and criminal profession-alism; the organised nature of criminal asso-ciations; underworld customs and traditions,etc. The impact of these two groups of factorsis clearly reflected in the growth of violentcrime:

– The increase in violent crime (with theuse of weapons) is connected to theincreased incidence of arms trafficking andthe accessibility of weapons. This was, ofcourse, promoted by military conflicts inRussian territory and in the former SovietRepublics. As a result, the number of mur-ders, hostage takings and terrorist acts hasincreased.– The perceived benefits of the materialcomforts gained through the use of violencehave grown rapidly. This is connected, notonly to the rapid increase in robbery andextortion, but to the assassination of com-petitors and persons who have political oreconomic power.– During the past five to eight years, a newcategory of violent crime has been formed,namely terrorism. Its characteristics are notonly the elimination of competitors or other

“undesirable” persons, but also the intimi-dation of people and society in general.– The number of serial murders and sexualtorture crimes has grown significantly.– Acts of violence committed by womenand juveniles has increased noticeably.

As a result of these factors, violence hasexpanded into spheres of public life where itwas not previously found, such as politics,finance, industry and commerce.

3. THE ROLE OF ORGANISED CRIME AND ETHNIC CONFLICTIf one assesses the crime situation in Russiawith specific reference to the problem of organ-ised crime, the following should be noted:

The main area in which organised crime inRussia is currently developing, is the economy.Further criminalisation of the economy is close-ly related to the corrupting influence of power. • Local criminal elements have crossed

Russian borders, establishing contacts bothwith criminal structures and legitimate busi-nesses abroad. The integration of organisedcrime in foreign business is apparent.

• The scope of illicit trade transactions insources of power, strategic materials and rawmaterials has increased.

• The material and financial foundations ofcriminal structures has been significantlyreinforced, due to the expansion of interna-tional contacts.

• The activity and influence of ethnic criminalgroups that have close ties abroad are grow-ing. The “shuttle” criminal modus operandi,language barriers and cultural uniquenessmake such formations difficult targets for lawenforcement agencies.

• The involvement of criminal factions in drugtrafficking reinforces their organisations andincreases interaction with the analogousstructures abroad. This involvement isexpanding.

• Trade in contraband firearms and ammuni-tion, and their leak from military installationsand military conflicts zones, has reachedmenacing proportions.

• The corruption of government agency repre-sentatives and the infiltration of “under-world” representatives into such agencies ispurposefully undertaken.

Organised crime has therefore become one ofthe most dangerous factors influencing Russia’s

113

Kvashis & Babaev

current crime situation. The proportion oforganised crime within general crime structuresis increasing each year. During the past sevenyears the number of registered crimes commit-ted by organised groups and associations hasincreased by a factor of 8.5.

The growth of ethnic conflicts, generated bythe struggle for power and the re-distribution ofproperty, has contributed to an increase in crim-inal activity and a surge in the number of ethniccriminal groups in Russia. Ultimately, ethniccriminal associations have become a permanentfactor, significantly affecting the developmentof the crime situation in the country. They useacts of terrorism as a means to achieving politi-cal and economic goals. This is precisely whythe fight against terrorism is becoming animportant priority for Russia’s law enforcementagencies.

The Russian crime situation has beenextremely complicated over the past few years .The scope and the rate of growth in criminalactivities are the main factors impeding socialreform, instilling a fear for their lives and safe-ty in the citizens of the country, and loweringthe level of trust in the government and its poli-cies. The aggressiveness of crime and the con-sequent damage to society have grown and con-tinue to grow. Criminals are increasingly ableto avoid detection. More and more people areinvolved in criminal activities.

The most remarkable trend among modern

criminals in Russia has become the aspirationto establish themselves within the economy,politics and government. Tough competitionover lucrative business opportunities has moti-vated criminal elements to organise and armthemselves, draw government managerial staffinto their activities and infiltrate the legislativeand executive branches of government. Theabsence of an effective government and publiccontrol over the origin and movement of capi-tal, finance and other resources, contributes sig-nificantly to this.

CONCLUSIONThe communist system of crime prevention andcontrol relied on an established social structurethat regulated and restricted all forms of crime.This system has now disintegrated and newstructures and procedures that may provide abreakthrough in the fight against crime, havenot yet been established.

Predictions concerning future trends in crimelevels provide little comfort, as experts envis-age that crime will continue to grow in Russia.However, this is not inevitable. The situationcan still alter if the dangers of crime to societyare fully realised, and adequate measures areadopted to stem the tide. Recent political deci-sions and practical steps adopted by the newRussian government do provide encourage-ment. After all, we all know that any diseaseactivates the immune system. This is our hope.

INTRODUCTIONGenerations of political and military occupa-tion have significantly divested the civilian jus-tice process in Palestine, which derives fromtwo different legal systems, enforced before the1967 Israeli occupation.

1. TWO LEGAL SYSTEMSJordanian law, which is still applicable in theWest Bank, is based on the Continental system,while in the Gaza Strip, the judicial structurefollows the Anglo-Saxon system that appliedduring the British Mandate. After the Israelioccupation of 1967, over 2000 military orderswere issued in the West Bank and Gaza.

Before the 1987 Intifada uprising, judge-ments passed by the Palestinian courts wereexecuted through the police. Palestinian policein the West Bank and Gaza were consideredpart of the Israeli police. These Palestinianswere responsible for investigating offenceswhere there was no Israeli interest, such as reg-ulating traffic and inter-Palestinian crimes.They were also charged with executing judge-ments of the civil courts.

Once the Intifada began in December 1987,the Intifada leadership called upon Palestiniansworking in the Israeli police force to resign(almost all of them did so). Police stations andfunctions were subsequently taken over by themilitary. The execution of judgements passedby the civil courts therefore suffered asPalestinians did not ask the Israeli military toexecute a civil judgement against otherPalestinians. Courts and police activities werethus paralysed.

After the Intifada, alternatives to the courts

became the most effective procedure. Theseincluded local and traditional techniques, suchas reconciliation and arbitration in disputesarising in the Palestinian community.

A variety of economic, political and socialproblems provide significant obstacles to therule of law and to law enforcement in the WestBank and Gaza Strip.

As a direct result of occupation and theIntifada’s boycott of governmental institutions,citizens in the West Bank and Gaza continue toharbor deep distrust of regulations, publicorder, courts, police and their formal legalprocesses. Police therefore have neither thewill nor recourse to resume their tasks in thecommunity or to execute civil judgements.

2. POST-OSLO ACCORDReferring to the changes that have taken placefollowing the peace agreement between Israeland Palestine – the Oslo Accord – it is worthnoting that certain new facts have arisen,resulting in problems and challenges regardingimplementation on the ground. Public order isrequired as a guarantee of peace and with thiscomes the importance of obedience on the partof citizens in applying the rule of law.

Even practically, it is difficult for the WestBank citizen to determine which is the relevantauthority in, for example, territories “C” and“B” of the accord. The Palestinian police can-not take precautions or actions in such areas ifan incident or a crime takes place, except afterlengthy communications and coordinationthrough the DCO liaison joint committee.

Palestine has a large number of newly trainedpolice officers who were formerly Palestinian

117

Police Transformation: The PalestinianAuthority Perspective

Assad Mubarak

118

Mubarak

Liberation Organisation (PLO) military person-nel. These recruits, however, need legal, inves-tigative and technical training in order to curbreliance on confessions. The police should begiven the resources and training to execute civiljudgements.

Careful studies are needed of the recommen-dation that administrative liaisons between thepolice and the courts be appointed to criminalcases in order to ensure police compliance withthe law. Moreover, to establish the rule of lawand to deal with the legacy of the past requiresa great deal effort.

3. UNIFYING THE SYSTEMDuring the first phase of the peace treaty – theGaza and Jericho accords – Palestinian policewere trained to implement criminal proceduresaccording to the Anglo-Saxon system as well asaccording to the Egyptian procedures of inves-tigation. After the second redeployment of thePalestinian Authority (PA) in the West Bank,the PA has had to deal with the fact that twodifferent legal systems are applicable inPalestine. It is therefore difficult for judges,prosecutors and police officers to mobilisePalestinian police activities in accordance withlegal procedures.

As a result, a plan was implemented by theMinistry of Justice to unify the legal system inPalestine, with the assistance of various Araband foreign countries. Several drafting lawcommissions were formed and a number ofdrafts were transferred to the Palestinian

Legislative Council for discussion and endorse-ment.

During this transition period – that began in1994 – police have been confronted with cer-tain criminal issues that were not handledbefore. One of the most frequently mentionedareas of legal interaction between Israelis andPalestinians is the surrender of fugitive crimi-nals. Moreover, police also have to deal withorganised crime in terms of the illegal posses-sion of weapons, explosives, car theft, trafficaccidents, drug trafficking and drug sales,white-collar crime and money laundering.

CONCLUSIONAs the legitimate leader representing thePalestinian people, the PA is looking ahead toself-determination and, as a consequence, to thedeclaration of an independent state. In allrespects, this new model of transition musttherefore ensure efficiency and must complywith the obligations to safeguard peace. The PAmust also ensure its citizens display self-disci-pline, obedience and restraint in harmony withhuman and fundamental basic rights.

The Israeli-Palestinian declarations of agree-ment in principle have created a critical oppor-tunity for Palestinians to build a society basedon discipline and democracy. It is appropriatethat we begin a new era in the Palestinian-lsraeli dispute, as well as in the political, socialand economic lives of the Palestinian people, ifthis newly born society is to thrive as a healthy,free and democratic nation.

INTRODUCTIONAt the time of Nelson Mandela’s release fromprison in 1990, there were 11 police forces inSouth Africa, each constituted under its ownpiece of legislation, and operating within itsown jurisdiction. The largest of these was theSouth African Police (SAP) with approximate-ly 112 000 members, the other 10 were the“homeland”1 police forces. Among these, themost significant group were the police agenciesof the four “independent homelands”2 –Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei.

These agencies operated with less interfer-ence from the SAP than those in the “self-gov-erning” homelands of KwaZulu, Lebowa,QwaQwa, KwaNdebele, KaNgwane andGazankulu. In total, there were over 140 000police personnel3 in South Africa.The home-land police forces were created during the1970s and 1980s, with the core members beingdrafted from the SAP.

These members were either black membersof the SAP, who were identified on the basis oftheir ethnicity, skill and perceived loyalty tothe apartheid model;4 or more senior whiteofficers who were “seconded” to the home-lands on the basis of lucrative fixed-term con-tracts.

Apart from the financial benefits of beingdeployed to the homelands, the founder mem-bers of the homeland forces found themselvesthe beneficiaries of rapid promotions, and wereable to operate with unusual autonomy fromthe police headquarters in Pretoria.

This freedom often allowed the creation ofnetworks of patronage and corruption whichcame to characterise the homeland forces.

Despite nominal political independence, theethnic homeland forces were subject to signifi-cant control5 by the SAP, which continued todictate access to financial and technicalresources.

By the early 1990s, (all) the police in SouthAfrica had acquired a reputation for brutality,corruption and ineptitude. Police organisationswere militarised, hierarchical and ill-equippedto deal with “ordinary crime”. Street-levelpolicing was conducted in a heavy-handedmanner, with bias against black citizens and lit-tle respect for rights or due process. Criminalinvestigations were largely reliant on confes-sions extracted under duress, and harsh securitylegislation provided for, or tolerated, variousforms of coercion and torture. Policing tech-niques were outmoded, partly as a result of thecampaign for international isolation of theapartheid government. However, despite theirlack of skill in dealing with crime, the SAP wasnotoriously effective against their politicalopponents.

It never occurred to the leaders and membersof the African National Congress (ANC) – themain democratic opposition party – that thepolice, who had been so ruthlessly effectiveagainst them, would be any less effectiveagainst criminals in the new era. However,coping with the political transition and adapt-ing to policing in a democratic society havebeen difficult for the police service.

In this paper we review the process of trans-forming an illegitimate police organisation intoone that is legitimate; and we reflect on someof the possibilities for, and implications of,rapid change.

119

Police Reform and South Africa’sTransition

Janine Rauch

120

Rauch

1. ORGANISATION AND CONTROL OF THEPOLICE IN SOUTH AFRICA1.1 The beginning of reform

During 1991 the main police force in SouthAfrica, the SAP, embarked on an internalreform initiative. This was predominantly aresponse both to the changing political environ-ment signalled by the release of NelsonMandela and the unbanning of the liberationmovements in 1990, and to the pressure ofchanging crime trends and international scruti-ny. The SAPs 1991 Strategic Plan highlightedfive areas of change:• depoliticisation of the police force• increased community accountability• more visible policing• establishment of improved and effective

management practices• reform of the police training system (includ-

ing some racial integration)• restructuring of the police force.The 1991 plan indicated the force’s intention to“manage change itself, in the hope of ensuringthat it would not have change thrust upon itlater”.6

1.2 The National Peace Accord

The National Peace Accord is a multipartyagreement (subsequently enacted as legislation)created in 1991 to address high levels of politi-cal violence in the early transition period. ThePeace Accord introduced a range of structuresand procedures to prevent and deal with inter-group conflict. Many of these structures andprocedures focused on policing:• A “police board” made up of equal numbers

of police generals and civilian experts onpolicing matters, nominated by the signatoryparties to the Peace Accord. The board was to“advise” the Minister of Law and Order onpolicy matters.

• Local and regional peace committees,7 madeup of representatives of signatory parties tothe accord. These were the primary imple-mentation bodies, and were supported byfull-time regional peace secretariats.

• Police reporting officers, civilian lawyers,who would receive and investigate com-plaints against the police. They would thenmake recommendations to the SAP aboutsteps to be taken in respect of each incident.

• A code of conduct for police and one formembers of political parties, to enable free

political association and to reduce police mis-conduct.

• A system of monitors, whose task was toobserve and report on the conduct of signato-ry parties and security forces.

The most significant contribution of the PeaceAccord in terms of policing was to create newprocedures for the handling of actual or poten-tial political violence, and to introduce thenotions of independent monitoring of policeaction and of multi-agency problem solving.While the presence of peace monitors did leadto improvements in certain aspects of policing(notably the policing of public gatherings), thePeace Accord code of conduct and the mecha-nisms for dealing with reported misconduct hadlittle impact.

1.3 New political arrangements

The first post-election Cabinet consisted of min-isters and deputy ministers drawn from the threemain political parties: the majority ANC, theNational Party (NP), and the Inkatha FreedomParty (IFP). The Ministry responsible for polic-ing8 was renamed the Ministry of Safety andSecurity, a symbolic move away from the previ-ous title – Law and Order. At provincial level,each provincial cabinet appointed a ministerresponsible for safety and security.

The various components of the police com-mand structure were accustomed to operatingunder the dictates of undemocratic administra-tions. The implications of a democratic style ofgovernance for policing were profound. Apartfrom the political significance of now being incontrol of the police service, one of the ANC’skey policies was to institutionalise civilianoversight and control, thereby separating (civil-ian) policy functions from the operational com-mand function of police management. This,however, remains an area of some debate andfluidity. With the new police leadershipappointed after 1999 having greater credibility,less emphasis is placed on the need for civilianmonitoring and policy making.

1.4 The new legal framework: SAPS Act

After a lengthy drafting and consultation phase,the South African Police Service (SAPS) Actwas passed late in 1995. Among the significantinnovations contained in the Act were:• The restructuring of the police service into

national divisions; provincial demarcations to

121

Rauch

match the new provincial boundaries; “areas”(groups of stations in a district) and stations.These new divisions functioned under vari-ous forms of command with public scrutinyat each operational level.

• The creation of national and provincial “sec-retariats for safety and security”, whichwould advise the provincial political execu-tives on police policy matters and wouldmonitor the adherence of the police to newpolicy. This was motivated by the ANC’sdesire to see policy control of the police incivilian hands.

• The requirement that the National Commis-sioner of Police should every year publish hisplans, priorities and objectives for the year.This was intended to enhance transparency inpolice policy-making and to enable monitor-ing of the efficiency and effectiveness of thepolice service.

• The creation of statutory “community–policeforums” where local police station commis-sioners would liaise with, and account to, thelocal community.

• The creation of a statutory “IndependentComplaints Directorate” which would receiveand investigate public complaints of policemisconduct. The directorate would be inde-pendent of the police and would report direct-ly to the Minister of Safety and Security.

Although certain aspects of the Act have beenamended, and the entire piece of legislation iscurrently under review to ensure congruencewith the final Constitution of South Africa,major changes to the Act are not envisaged inthe foreseeable future.

2. CREATING A NEW POLICE SERVICE OUT OFTHE OLDThe task of the police force under apartheidwas to enforce laws of racial segregation, tosecure the minority government, and to protectthe white population from crime and politicaldisruption. This did not require traditionalpolicing skills. Instead it rewarded political loy-alty and allowed large-scale abuse of power.The new government faced the mammoth taskof transforming the police service into one thatwould be both acceptable to the majority of thepopulation, and effective against crime.

2.1 The campaign for police legitimacy

The ANC recognised the importance of trans-

forming the police service before the election,and embarked on a “confidence-building” cam-paign with the security forces during the nego-tiations period. This entailed building the confi-dence of the police in the ANC as the likelyfuture leaders of the country, and also buildingthe confidence of the populace in the hithertoalienated police forces. President Mandela, inhis inaugural address in 1994, paid special trib-ute to the good work done by the police in help-ing to ensure the success of the election.

Following his appointment as Minister ofSafety and Security, Sydney Mufamadiembarked on a nation-wide series of massmeetings with police personnel. These meetingswere intended to reassure personnel regardingthe ANC’s intentions to reform the police grad-ually, rather than radically. They also wished tospread the message that, although the ANCwould not tolerate abuses of human rights, itwould not victimise perpetrators of such abusescommitted in the past, if the perpetrators abidedby new government doctrine. This series ofmeetings was also critical in presenting thehuman face of the new ANC government, andidentifying the ANC as the stable politicalauthority during the insecure period of policeforce amalgamation.

The appointment of George Fivaz as the firstNational Commissioner of the new SAPS was acrucial moment in the transformation process.At the time of his appointment, CommissionerFivaz emphasised the need to establish the newSAPS as legitimate and acceptable in the eyesof the majority of citizens, and for the SAPS tomake a “clean and definite break with the past”.These goals were to remain one of the themesof his leadership. He identified a number ofother challenges for his new management team,to:• curb crime and improve levels of safety and

security• improve police–community relations• remove all forms of discrimination within

and by the police service• adopt a new “mindset” within the police

forces• restore discipline and morale among police

personnel• establish a culture of fundamental rights

within the police organisation.With the establishment of the Truth andReconciliation Commission (TRC), the ANC

122

Rauch

government also had to emphasise its positionon previous abuses by police officials.President Nelson Mandela insisted9 that hisgovernment was opposed to, and had no inten-tion of conducting, a witch-hunt against thepolice as a result of activities arising fromorders given to the police by the apartheidregime. He urged police officers not to dwellon possible investigations by the TRC, andinstead to get on with the job of law enforce-ment and community policing.

Less than two years after South Africa’s firstdemocratic election, the politicians felt that thetransformation of the police service was wellunder way. In a speech to the top police com-missioners in late 1995, Minister Mufamadiacknowledged that, despite the huge pressuresthey faced, the police leadership had achieved agreat deal. Less than two years previously, thepolice service was regarded as a possible threatto democracy. “Today, the relative credibilityand legitimacy enjoyed widely by the policeservice is one of the more clear indicators ofthe successful transition to democracy whichour country has made.”10

The discourse of politicians and governmentregarding policing has taken on a rather differ-ent tone since South Africa’s second democrat-ic election in 1999. The new Minister forSafety and Security, Steve Tshwete, hasemphasised the crime fighting role of thepolice, and has encouraged a more strong-armapproach to criminals, with far less emphasison the internal problems of police reform. Thisdiscourse has found favour with the SouthAfrican public, which is increasingly concernedabout crime and a police service which felt dis-empowered by the period of police transforma-tion following the first election.

2.2 Symbols of a new order

The new government moved swiftly to changesome of the symbols associated with apartheidpolicing after the 1994 election:• The name was changed to the South African

Police Service, to symbolise the shift “from aforce to a service”, which was a key compo-nent of the ANC’s policy approach.

• A new police leadership was appointed, withthe National Commissioner appointed direct-ly by the President.

• The rank system was changed from the previ-ous military ranks to a rank system based on

the British model. For example: generalbecame commissioner; brigadier becamedirector; and colonel became senior superin-tendent.

• This change did encounter some resistancefrom within the police organisation, and tothis day, informal use of the old ranks contin-ues in many areas.

• The uniform was changed. In the old dispen-sation, each of the 11 police forces had itsown uniform and insignia. A new uniformwas designed for the SAPS, which wasslightly less militaristic.

• A new insignia was created for the SAPS, toreplace that of the 11 former police forces.The new badge consists of the image of analoe (an indigenous South African plant withhealing properties) with nine spikes, to sym-bolise the nine new provinces.

• The colour of police vehicles changed, withall new vehicles being painted white withblue lettering, instead of the bright yellowwhich had become associated with fire-brigade-style police in armoured vehicles.

• In some provinces, the names of police sta-tions were changed, where they had previous-ly been named after apartheid-era politiciansor police leaders. The most notable was theJohn Vorster Square police station, wherenumerous detainees were tortured and killedby Security Police. It is now named theJohannesburg Central police precinct.

These symbolic changes, while superficial, didcontribute to changing public perceptions of thepolice service. They also required a great dealof internal negotiation and had quite severefinancial implications for the new police ser-vice.

2.3 A new profile for the police service

Perceptions of the racial profile of the policeduring apartheid South Africa were constructedaround the iconic image of a rather brutish,uneducated, working-class, white, Afrikaans-speaking policeman. In fact (viewed together),the police agencies were, at the time of the1994 elections, fairly representative of theracial make up of the South African population– 64% of the combined personnel of the policeorganisations was black. Even the SAP alone(which contributed 80% of the total personnel),was not as dramatically unrepresentative asmany observers had believed – 55% of its

123

Rauch

members were black. What did characterise theSAP, however, was the dominance of whiteAfrikaner males in its senior ranks. The upperechelons of the smaller, homeland police agen-cies were dominated by members of black eth-nic groups, according to the ethnic compositionof each of the forces. In 1995, personnel hold-ing the rank of brigadier11 were 80% white,with only one female brigadier out of the 202brigadier posts in the combined police forces.Women constituted 18% of the total policestrength, and only 11% of the officer ranks. In1998, women made up 20% of the police ser-vice, and 16% of the officer ranks.

Even though the issues of race and gendercomposition of the police service were not dis-cussed during the pre-election negotiations, thenew Constitution, with its requirements forequality and affirmative action for “previouslydisadvantaged” groups, has profound implications for the new police service. Theseimplications have become more real to policeorganisations in recent years, with the imposi-tion of government-wide targets for a more rep-resentative composition of the senior ranks ofthe public service. By mid-2000, the SAPS hadachieved most of its targets, with managementranks now being over 50% black.

2.4 Working with the enemy

One of the agreements reached in the negotia-tions process was to incorporate members ofthe former liberation movements’ armedforces12 into the new South African securityforces. This was a key dimension to negotia-tions around the future of the military, but wasfar less significant in negotiations concerningthe police, for a number of reasons:• While the liberation movements had trained

soldiers and intelligence operatives, they didnot train any exiled members in police work.

• The main political concern of most of the lib-eration movements was with the possibilityof a right-wing coup from within the military;and thus with the transformation of thedefence force.

• Traditional alienation of the police from theblack majority made the prospect of workingin the police a far less attractive one thanworking in, say, the army or the intelligenceservices, which was likely to have employedsome senior officers from the former libera-tion movements.

The ANC and the Pan Africanist Congress(PAC) reached agreements with the NP govern-ment negotiators with regard to the number oftheir members who would be integrated into thepolice service. The following groups enteredthe police:• Approximately 200 bodyguards were inte-

grated into the VIP Protection Service.• A number of ANC intelligence personnel

were posted to the Crime IntelligenceDepartment of the SAPS – the reformedSecurity Branch. This department, and thepolice intelligence component responsible forInternal Security, were both placed under thecommand of ANC appointees. The entry oftrusted ANC personnel went some way to re-establishing public credibility for these hatedunits.

• A small number of young people who hadbeen members of the ANC’s self-defenceunits (SDUs) and the IFP’s self protectionunits (SPUs) were integrated into a commu-nity constable group.

• A small number of civilians were recruitedinto middle and senior posts in the SAPS dur-ing the competitive senior appointmentsprocess. These individuals, largely fromlegal, academic or non-governmental organi-sation (NGO) backgrounds, took positions inthe police legal service, human resources andtraining components. Although some of these“lateral entrants” were ANC supporters, lat-eral entry was not fully exploited by the newgovernment as an opportunity to alter thecomposition of the SAPS senior ranks, until1999. This was partly due to the historicalresistance of the police leadership to thenotion of civilian lateral entry, and partly tothe lack of policing expertise in South Africaoutside of the ranks of the apartheid policeagencies. The relatively low salaries offeredby the SAPS, and the unpleasant image of thepolice, meant that the ANC government wasunable to recruit high-calibre civilians intoinfluential managerial positions in its newpolice service until long after 1994.

3. IMPROVING POLICE–COMMUNITY RELATIONSThe role of enforcing unpopular laws, assignedto the police agencies during the apartheidyears, created a profound crisis of legitimacyfor the police in South Africa. In manyrespects, the police played a military role,

124

Rauch

crushing popular protest and engaging in SouthAfrica’s de facto domestic civil war as well asbeing deployed in support of white regimes inindependence struggles in neighbouring states.This resulted in large-scale alienation of thepolice from the majority black population.Police officers were not just unpopular, theywere the targets of abuse and violence frompro-democracy quarters.

Notions of “community policing”, gleanedfrom contact with the international police fra-ternity, gained currency in enlightened SAP cir-cles in the late 1980s. It was, in part, the influ-ence of international policing models13 on boththe SAP and on local academics, which led tothe introduction of the first community policingstructures in the early 1990s. The SAP estab-lished a Division for Community Relations inlate 1992. This division then set about estab-lishing police–community forums at local levelin all areas of SAP jurisdiction.14 However, thefact that the SAP deployed a large number offormer Security Branch officers15 into the newdivision generated immediate suspicion amongblack communities regarding the initiative.

The Interim Constitution, which came intoeffect in April 1994, contained a detailedrequirement that the new police service shouldestablish a Community Police Forum (CPF) atevery police station. Some local peace commit-tees were still functioning at this time, aftertheir formal disbandment, and these formed thecore of the new CPFs. Unlike peace commit-tees, membership of CPFs was not limited topolitical parties, but could include any commu-nity group and interested individual. The roleand function of the CPFs was not laid down inofficial policy – other than the SAPS Act,which basically repeated the wording of theInterim Constitution – until April 1997.16 Thecommunity policing policy is currently underreview, and it is expected that regulations gov-erning the functioning of CPFs will be issued inthe near future.

4. ENSURING POLICE ACCOUNTABILITYThe apartheid police forces were notoriouslyunaccountable and unconstrained in their use offorce. Most of the research and advocacy workperformed on police reform prior to the1994election focused on human rights violations bythe police. Numerous international humanrights bodies highlighted the violations com-

mitted by the various police forces in SouthAfrica.17 As a result of this focus, the agenda ofthe ANC (the main negotiating party in thetransition) focused on establishing satisfactorymechanisms for police accountability in thepost-election period. The ANC wanted toensure police accountability on five fronts:• the Constitution, and in particular the Bill of

Rights• legislation governing the police• the elected government• communities• internationally accepted notions of police

professionalism.The emphasis of the ANC’s policies during thetransition period lay on community-levelaccountability. This is unsurprising, given thatthe ANC did not yet have control over execu-tive or legislative functions, but could rely onthe support of the majority of South Africancommunities. The ANC also emphasised theneed for independent structures to deal with theabuse of power which had come to characterisepolicing under apartheid.

By 1997, the discussion regarding policeaccountability had become far more sophisti-cated. The Draft White Paper released in 1998proposed that performance against crime, andaccountability for expenditure, should be usedas devices for holding the police leadershipaccountable to the government.

With the appointment of a new NationalCommissioner from the senior ranks of theANC in 1999, the pressure for police to be seento be accountable to the government has beendramatically reduced. There is now a strongrelationship between the new Minister and theNational Commissioner. Police accountabilityis no longer an issue for concern, except per-haps to human rights watchdogs and organisa-tions concerned with rising levels of police bru-tality in recent years.

5. DEALING WITH CRIME The imperatives of the early transition periodwere to build the legitimacy of the police, tointroduce a culture of human rights into thepolice force, and to improve relations betweenthe police and the black community in SouthAfrica. Ironically, after four years of image-building, the South African police once againfound themselves facing a crisis of public con-fidence. Surveys18 conducted in South Africa’s

125

Rauch

major cities prior to the second election foundthat public attitudes towards, and satisfactionwith, the police remained low.

Levels of reported crime rose significantlyduring the 1990s. During this same period, con-viction rates in criminal trials were dropping,and a crisis of confidence began to underminethe entire criminal justice system. The situationwas also compounded by a steady stream ofmedia stories concerning police corruption.

Early attempts to tackle the growing crimeproblem were bifurcated into an attempt toemphasise crime prevention and to reform thecriminal justice system (as contained in the1996 National Crime Prevention Strategy[NCPS]). In addition, increasingly authoritarianpolicing operations were conducted with theassistance of the South African NationalDefence Force, as was first evident in the 1996Community Safety Plan.

Feeling the effects of a devastating post-tran-sition crime wave, the South African publicbegan to demand tougher action against crimi-nals. In this regard, the Bill of Rights became apopular scapegoat for police inadequacy. Eventhe rhetoric of former human rights advocatesin the Cabinet began to harden, and the politicallanguage of “war on crime” began to pervadeofficial discourse around crime in the later1990s. This “tough on crime” language hasbecome standard government issue in the post-1999 period. It has had the effect of increasingpublic confidence in the police and in the gov-ernment’s policy approach, but some of its neg-ative consequences are beginning to be evident.These include:• lengthy delays in the criminal courts• massive overcrowding in South Africa’s pris-

ons,• an ever-increasing number of awaiting-trial

prisoners• increasing numbers of deaths as a result of

police action and in police custody• rising xenophobia resulting from the notion

that “foreigners” are responsible for SouthAfrica’s growing crime problem

• increasing numbers of arrests in certain crimecategories, resulting in a rise, rather than adecline, in official “crime figures” (recordedpolice statistics).

Recent policy approaches to the problem ofcrime have largely abandoned any commitmentto social crime prevention by the police,attempting to shift this responsibility instead tothe “social” cluster of government departmentssuch as housing, health, welfare and education.The government’s two-pronged crime reductionapproach now revolves around sustained heavypolicing operations (currently known asOperation Crackdown), and ongoing reform ofthe criminal justice system.19 The “heavy”policing approach is underpinned by an ongo-ing process of internal police reform, mostnotably an emphasis on improved service deliv-ery to the public. However, this is no longer asvehemently marketed to the public as policereform was in the early days of South Africa’snew democracy.

CONCLUSIONIn recent years, the police have experienced asevere lack of resources, which has had thepositive effect of forcing some long-overdueprioritisation in policing strategies, but has alsohad many negative effects. The loss of person-power in key areas has had a profound impacton police performance (for instance in criminalinvestigations, criminal records and crime intel-ligence).

However, the police have succeeded in com-municating their resource constraints to thepublic and the politicians, and, as a result, thereis some sympathy and understanding for poorpolice performance. In line with its “tough oncrime” policy, it seems likely that the new gov-ernment will be allocating more resources topolicing (and criminal justice in general) in thenear future.

126

Rauch

1) One of the most visible symbols of grandapartheid was the creation of the “home-land” system, which segregated black SouthAfricans into ethnic groups, assigned eachgroup a small piece of land, and createdsome form of administration for each“homeland”. This system was brutallyenforced, and fiercely resisted. The end ofapartheid entailed the abolition of the home-land system and the re-incorporation of thehomelands into a united South Africa.

2) These homelands had acquired “indepen-dent” status through the logic of grandapartheid, which saw Africans not as citi-zens of a common South Africa, but as acollection of separate ethnic nations whichwere to be led to full and separate state-hood. The goal of this approach was toforce all Africans to exchange their citizen-ship for that of an “independent state”, thusensuring that there would be no blackSouth African citizens. The “independent”homelands were entitled to issue passports,create defence forces, attempt “foreignaffairs”, etc.

3) This figure excludes traffic policeemployed by various municipalities. Theregular police do not deal with traffic orby-law offences.

4) Marais 1992:5.5) Marais 1992:7.6) Shaw M, (1994) Point of Order: Policing

the Compromise in South African Review 7Ravan Press, Johannesburg.

7) First termed “Dispute ResolutionCommittees”.

8) There are ministries of Safety and Security(police), Justice and Correctional Services.

9) President Nelson Mandela, Address to theOpening of Parliament, 17 February 1995.

10) Minister Sydney Mufamadi, Address at theSAPS Leadership DevelopmentProgramme, 10 November 1995.

11) Brigadier was then the fourth highest rankin the police organisation.

12) Also referred to as the “non-statutoryforces”.

13) In particular, the United Kingdom model ofpolice–community consultative groups.

14) This precedent was not followed by thehomeland forces.

15) The motivation for using former SecurityBranch (political intelligence) personnelwas that these were often the “cream” ofthe SAP personnel. They were politicallyaware and had the political skills to dealwith black communities.

16) Community Policing: Policy Frameworkand Guidelines, SAPS 1997.

17) c.f. Amnesty International, Human RightsWatch, The International Committee ofJurists.

18) Institute for Security Studies VictimSurveys 1997/8 in Johannesburg, Durban,Cape Town and Pretoria found that thepublic image of the police is generallypoor, and that negative views of the policeare held equally by victims of crime andnon-victims, although blacks are more like-ly to have negative views than whites.

19) Criminal justice reform, through the inter-departmental “integrated justice system”programme, is the only surviving compo-nent of the 1996 National Crime Preven-tion Strategy in terms of national govern-ment programmes. Most of the more“social” aspects of crime prevention havebeen assigned to other government depart-ments or to provincial and local spheres ofgovernment.

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTIONIn a constitutional democracy, the police areexpected to rely on public goodwill and coop-eration to carry out their duties. They areexpected to operate within the limits of theirlegally defined powers and are particularlyanswerable to the judiciary for any excess inthe exercise of their powers.1 In Nigeria, how-ever, the colonial origin of the police anddecades of military rule, have produced a mili-tarised force that has acted as instruments ofoppression at the service of the governmentand is largely alienated from the civil popula-tion it should serve.

With the installation of a civilian electedgovernment on 29 May 1999, efforts have beenmade aimed at reforming the Nigerian police tomeet the demands of a democratising society.The reason for this is not far-fetched. Thepolice in Nigeria, as elsewhere in the world, arethe most visible agency of government. Theirability to relate to the people in a respectfulmanner, devoid of egregious brutality and hos-tility, is a critical indicator of whether theNigerian society is, indeed, undergoing ademocratic transformation.

The aim of this paper is to review ongoingefforts at police reform in Nigeria. After givinga brief history of police–community disconnec-tion in Nigeria and an analysis of the nature ofthe current democratisation process, the paperwill focus on critical issues that must be dealtwith if the police and policing in Nigeria are totransform. It is hoped that this may give insightsto individuals and groups who wish to con-tribute to police transformation in a country thatis still in its early stages of democratisation.

1. BRIEF HISTORY OF POLICE–COMMUNITY DISCONNECTION IN NIGERIABefore the advent of British colonial rule, thevarious ethnic nationalities that make upNigerian society had some form of community-based police services. This ranged from thehighly developed age-grade system among theIgbos of south-eastern Nigeria, the “secret soci-eties” – such as the Ogboni and Oro cultsfound in several Yoruba communities of thesouth-west – to the Ekpe cult among the Efiksof the south. All these societies, rooted in thecommunities, helped to maintain law and orderas well as general community development.2

The idea of the modern Nigerian police,however, armed and distinct from civil society,is a creation of colonial rule. It began its histo-ry and functions in serving the interests of theBritish colonial government. The periodbetween 1861 and 1904 witnessed British colo-nialists subjecting the estimated 400 nationali-ties3 to their domination. As each of the nation-alities were subjected to colonial rule, theBritish established police forces and constabu-laries to protect its interests.4 These forces andconstabularies were armed and organised asquasi-military squads. Such forces in differentterritories comprised officials who werestrangers in the communities where they wereemployed. The purpose of this practice ofalienating the police from the communitiesthey served, was to ensure that such officials,when deployed to execute punitive expeditions,would act as an army of occupation5 anddeploy maximum violence on the communities.

An example of this was in 1863, when theColonial Governor of Lagos Colony, HS

127

Police Transformation in Nigeria:Problems and Prospects

Innocent Chukwuma

128

Chukwuma

Freeman, wrote a letter to the Duke of New-castle in which he highlighted the advantage ofan estranged police for the colonial govern-ment. According to him, deploying policemento areas where they were aliens would fostereffective deposit of violence in the communitypoliced. Consequently, Freeman reported that:

“The men [Hausamen recruited into theforce in Lagos Colony] being from the inte-rior and professing the mussulman [Muslimor Islam] religion are hated by the natives ofthese parts who have hitherto only knownthem as their slaves. They [Hausas] are dis-liked also by the Europeans as being of amore independent character than the Lagospeople. They thus have only the govern-ment to depend on, and if properly managedwill prove a valuable resource to this settle-ment.”6

The arrangement did “prove a valuableresource” to the colonial government. As aresult, 30 years later in 1893, another colonialgovernor, in a letter to London, reported that:

“In our Hausa force we have a body of mendissociated from the countries immediatelyaround Lagos both by birth and religion,and who are as a matter of fact the heredi-tary enemies of the Yorubas. This is such anenormous advantage in any interior compli-cation [opposition to colonial rule] that Ishould be sorry to see it abandoned if itwere possible to obtain a supply of recruitsin any other way.”7

In essence, there was a colonial interest inensuring hostility and violence between thepolice and the citizens. The colonial govern-ment organised the police as instruments ofriot, opposition and suppression. They were notestablished as agents for promoting the rule oflaw, human rights, community safety or fordelivering social services.8 The colonial policeforces were therefore used in punitive expedi-tions to further the goal of colonial annexationof territories,9 namely to suppress oppositionagainst colonial exploitation.10 This marked thebeginning of police–community disconnectionin Nigeria.

Police–community disconnection with civilsociety did not end with Nigeria’s indepen-dence from colonial domination and oppres-sion. When Nigeria gained political indepen-dence in 1960, there were expectations that thepolice would be reorganised and reoriented

from a colonial occupation force to serve thepeople. This did not happen. The parties thatwere elected into government found it moreconvenient to retain all colonial structures ofcoercion in dealing with the people. Therefore,instead of a major reorganisation of the policeto serve and protect the Nigerian people, whatwas witnessed was a ceremonial oath, transfer-ring allegiance of the Nigerian Police Force(NPF) from the British Crown to the FederalRepublic of Nigeria, and a change of their for-mer crests bearing the symbol of the BritishCrown to the Federal Coat of Arms. All otherfeatures of the police that made them widelyfeared and despised under the colonial govern-ment were left untouched.11

The situation worsened due to persistentseizure of political power by the Nigerian mili-tary, which prevented the development of ademocratic culture and adherence to the rule oflaw in the country. The military takeover ofgovernment in 1966 and the subsequentappointment of the Inspector General of Policeand his deputy as members of the then FederalExecutive Council under General Ironsi, led toa marriage of convenience between the policeand the military, which endured throughout theperiod of military rule in Nigeria.12 Speakingon the impact of military rule on the police inNigeria – in an acceptance speech for an hon-orary doctorate award from Imo StateUniversity in March 1998 – Alhaji IbrahimCoomassie, former Police Inspector General,noted:

“The Force (NPF) has been torn betweenthe civil populace and the military, so muchso that its civil traditions are almost lost tomilitary authoritarianism.”13

This was the state of the police before the pre-sent elected government came to power.

2. NATURE OF DEMOCRATIC TRANSITION INNIGERIADemocracy in the contemporary world, accord-ing to Philip B Heymann, is sustained by twoprimary forces:

“It can be the result of the rather powerfuldemand of the population ... Democracy canalso be largely the result of internationalpressures, especially with the end of theCold War.”14

When democratic transition is driven by astrong national movement for change, it could

129

Chukwuma

be described as a “strong” democratisationprocess. Whereas, when it depends essentiallyon external support from powerful countriesand donor agencies, it could be called a “weak”democratisation process.15

The Nigerian democratic experiment, unlikethe processes that led to the new South Africa,could be said to fall within the latter category.Two recent developments in the country but-tress this assertion. A weekly newsmagazine inNigeria has published two cover stories on theplot to remove President Obasanjo, this year. Inits most recent cover story titled, “Plot toremove Obasanjo deepens”, the magazinereported countermeasures being adopted by thegovernment to arrest the alleged plot. Quotingan anonymous presidency source, the magazinereported:

“Apart from routine surveillance measures,there has been an effort to sensitiseNigeria’s traditional friends (abroad) aboutthe threat to democracy. This has led formerUnited States (US) President, Jimmy Carter,and Assistant Secretary of State, ThomasPickering, to make statements, during theirrecent visits to Nigeria, urging restraint onthe Nigerian Armed Forces.”16

There was no mention of mobilising Nigeria’speople, who ostensibly voted for the govern-ment, to resist any move by the military toforcefully take over government. Another inci-dent which demonstrates the fragility of thedemocratisation process in Nigeria, is the ongo-ing face-off between the National Assemblyand the Executive. This came to a head on 21August 2000, when the Legislature threatenedto pass a vote of no-confidence on the Presi-dent. According to newspaper reports, the law-makers had to soft pedal when Clinton threat-ened to cancel his scheduled state visit toNigeria, beginning 26 August 2000.17 Thesetwo incidents, in my view, mirror how weak theNigerian democratic experiment is and howheavily dependent it is on external forces. Thequestion is: How long can these external forcessustain the country’s democratic experimentwithout the cultivation of a home base, andwhat are the implications for police transforma-tion?

Since the focus of this paper is on policetransformation, we shall concern ourselves withthe latter part of the question. David H Bayley,in the article “Developing democracy through

police reform”, offers an insight. According tohim, “during transition to democracy, democra-tic reform of the police is likely to be lessimportant to emerging democratic governmentsthan security”.18 Explaining why this tends tobe the case, he stated:

“Democracy requires stability and order, yettransitions to it, are often accompanied byviolence and disorder. Threats to regimesalways take priority over threats to the ...public [subversion over crime]. At the sametime, the legitimacy of government requiresproviding internal order for thepopulation.”19

The Nigerian situation not only offers a goodexample of Bayley’s thesis, but also shows howthe dilemma of management of security andreform faced by transitional democracies, canlead to the growth or stagnation of the democ-ratisation process. The current democratisationproject in Nigeria began on 20 July 1998, whenGeneral Abdulsalami Abubakar – who assumedpower on 9 June 1998, the day after GeneralAbacha died – announced his own transition toa civil rule programme. The programme culmi-nated in the election and induction of the gov-ernment of President Olusegun Obasanjo on 29May 1999, making it the shortest of all threetransition programmes so far attempted sincethe second coming of the military on NewYear’s Eve, 1984.20

In spite of the electoral flaws observed bylocal and foreign observers before, during andafter the election,21 everybody endorsed it. Atleast, it offers a new beginning for a countrythat has been devastated socially, politicallyand economically by more than 15 years of mil-itary rule. There was euphoria in the countrythat the “second coming” of Obasanjo, the dar-ling of Western governments, would bring themuch desired succour to the people. They didnot know, however, how difficult the journeyahead was going to be.

The installation of democracy as a peacefultransition could not be presumed. Widespreadmayhem ensued in various parts of the country.Violence in its goriest form broke out, from theNiger Delta – where restive youths fightingdecades of neglect had perfected the act ofabduction and hostage-taking of oil companyworkers – to the south-west, where ethnic mili-tia from the Odua Peoples’ Congress (OPC)swore to defend Obasanjo, whom they did not

130

Chukwuma

elect. The north and eastern parts of the countrywere included as Sharia violence in Kadunaand its reprisals in Aba and Umuahia, left hun-dreds, if not thousands, dead. Naturally, thegovernment had to respond, since democracyrequires stability and order to strive. The gov-ernment started by sending the military toinvade Odi in Bayelsa State, where youthsabducted and killed 12 policemen. After thecomplete destruction of the town, however, itwas the police, and not soldiers, that were ableto arrest the suspects. The second was theshoot-on-sight order given to the police againstmembers of OPC and other ethnic militiasinvolved in one conflict or another.

Since then the “panic” response to civil dis-turbances has been extended to any dissentingview from that of the President, even frommembers of the party under which he was elect-ed. The new phrase in our political lexicon is“enemy of democracy”, which is loosely usedto lump together all kinds of people includingthose who share a different view from the gov-ernment. In line with Bayley’s thesis, invest-ment in security forces for the protection ofObasanjo’s government has taken precedenceover investment in needed reforms that wouldbring democracy dividends and the services ofthe police closer to the poor and vulnerable seg-ment of the population – who are daily torment-ed by the rise in unemployment and propertycrime. In Nigeria today, the democratisationprocess has been personalised to the extent thatPresident Obasanjo is democracy, and democ-racy is President Obasanjo.

3. TRANSFORMATION OF THE NPFWith the foregoing as a background, the gov-ernment appears rather keen on pursuing ad hocand panicky responses to glaring cases ofpolice inadequacy. The usual response, espe-cially with the upsurge of violent crime andarmed banditry, is discussions about the enlist-ment of more personnel and the provision ofsuperior fire power to the police, to match thoseof violent property criminals – as if guns alonewould enhance police performance. There is noserious effort to work for transformation of theNPF, from a “regime police” to a democraticpolice.

According to Bayley:“Whereas regime police are primarily con-cerned with what government requires,

democratic police are responsive to theneeds of the citizenry and are held account-able for their deeds and omissions throughmultiple political and civil mechanisms.”22

A possible exception to this ad hoc approach topolice reform in Nigeria is reports in newspa-pers that the Ministry of Police Affairs – thesupervisory ministry of the NPF – has drafted afive-year development plan for the police. Themajor plank of the plan, which had no inputfrom civil society in the country, is the recruit-ment of an average of 40 000 police personnela year for the next five years, which wouldbring their numbers from the current 140 000 to340 000. This measure, it is hoped, will bringthe ratio of the police to the population fromthe current figure of one policeman to 714 peo-ple (1:714) to one policeman to 294 people (1:294) in five years’ time.

There is certainly a need to build up policenumbers in Nigeria, given the embargo placedon recruitment into the force for the five yearsof General Abacha’s regime. There does not,however, seem to have been preparation for theabsorption of the impact of such a massiveinflux of personnel into the police. It hasalready had an effect at police colleges andtraining institutions where recruits are nowundergoing the mandatory six- to nine-months’training for enlistment of constables into theforce.

Most of the police colleges and training insti-tutions were practically abandoned during theAbacha regime, given the embargo on recruit-ment, and are presently over-stretched beyondcapacity due to the influx. Many of the traineesare made to bring bedding and toiletries fromtheir homes. Some could not even get accom-modation from the institutions. There are nobooks in their libraries and to compound mat-ters, they are still using the curricula and syllabideveloped in the 1970s for their training.

To assist in the reorganisation of the force, 22civil society groups in Nigeria came togetherand formed the Network on Police Reform inNigeria (Noprin) to work with the Ministry ofPolice Affairs, the NPF, the National Assem-bly, the private sector, donor agencies and otherstakeholders on safety and security issues in thecountry – to ensure that police transformationin Nigeria, benefits from the input of civil soci-ety. We have identified six critical areas thatshould be reformed. These are:

131

Chukwuma

• police legislation and standing orders• community–police relations• police operations and accountability • human resources, training and development

in the police • gender and policing • police welfare and conditions of service.

3.1 Police legislation and standing orders

The Nigeria Police Act was enacted in 1943 bythe British colonial government. From 1943until today, there has been no major review ofthe Police Act to bring it in line with the dic-tates of policing a democracy. Over the years,successive inspectors general of police haveadopted measures to enhance the work of theNPF, but the fact remains that unless thesemeasures are backed by law, they cannotendure. A typical case that comes to mind is thedirective by Etim Iyang – Inspector General ofPolice in 1984 – raising the minimum educa-tional requirement for enlistment into the policeforce from secondary class four to school cer-tificate. His successor, Alhaji Gambo Jimeta,did not back this measure and reverted it to sec-ondary class four. His argument was that somestates of the federation would not be able to filltheir quota in the police force if the enlistmenteducational requirement was school certificate!

Some of the provisions in the Act havebecome anachronistic and in urgent need ofreview. Examples are police training, code ofconduct and discipline, superior orders, accessof the public to police records, enlistment ofwomen police and conditions of service. TheAct also needs to be reviewed to provide for,among others, civil oversight of the police andaccountability to the community.

3.2 Police–community relations

Police–community relations in Nigeria arecharacterised, at best, by deep suspicion and, atworst, by violence. Although the NPF has morecontact with citizens than any other law en-forcement agency in Nigeria, the nature of suchcontact is involuntary and occurs in the courseof police discharge of their law enforcementfunctions. These types of contact situations pro-vide little or no opportunities for non-coerciveinteraction between the police and citizens.

Police authorities are not unaware of the neg-ative public image the agency has acquiredover the years, due to the activities of some of

its officers, men and women. In the mid-1980s,the Inspector General of Police establishedpolice–community relations committees(PCRCs) in all police divisional, area and statecommands in the country. The PCRCs are sup-posed to serve as liaison bodies between thepolice and the communities they serve, and thusbe in a position to build confidence and cooper-ation between the police and civil society in thecountry. They have, however, not been able toplay this role effectively, due to the non-repre-sentational nature of the PCRCs’ compositionin the communities where they operate, and thefact that they are a police initiative – notaccountable to any civil authority. There istherefore a need to reorganise the PCRCs andto make them a committee of local governmentcouncils, with a majority elected membership.Their composition should also be broadly rep-resentative of the local council areas in terms ofreligion, gender, age and cultural background.The PCRCs should represent the consumer ofpolice service, voice the concerns of the citi-zens and monitor police performance.

3.3 Police operations and accountability

Nigeria is perhaps one of the few countries inthe world where the police is allowed to policeitself. Unless an aggrieved citizen has themoney to proceed to a law court to challengeabuse of his/her rights by the police, he/she hasno alternative but to report his/her case topolice authorities for redress. On occasion,police authorities at state and federal level haveintervened by disciplining erring membersthrough internal disciplinary procedures, butthe whole idea of the police, policing itself in ademocratic system of government, calls forreview. In theory, the Ministry of Police Affairsis the supervisory ministry of the police inNigeria. However, the ministry only has anoffice in Abuja – the federal capital – whereasthe police has a presence in the 774 local gov-ernment councils in Nigeria. One can imaginethe type of oversight the ministry would haveon the police. There is a need to establish civil-ian review boards at local, state and federal lev-els to deal with complaints of abuse of powerby the police.

3.4 Human resources development and

training

The selection and screening process for recruit-

132

Chukwuma

ment into the Nigerian police, especially at thejunior level (constable and inspector) and thecurricula for training of all levels of the policeare narrow in scope and should be reviewed.For a constable, the selection process emphasis-es physical stature and stamina. Rigorous testsfor psychological and emotional stability andsocial relations skills are not given adequateattention.23 The curricula emphasise policeduties, drill, physical exercise and limitedknowledge of criminal law and procedure. Thecontent of the training is limited and is deficientin liberal subjects such as sociology, psycholo-gy and political science.

Furthermore, refresher courses for officersare infrequent. These inadequacies associatedwith selection, screening, testing and refreshertraining for police personnel before promotionat different times in their careers, adverselyimpact on discipline, orientation, attitude, per-formance and conduct of Nigeria’s police andshould be addressed.

3.5 Gender and policing

The gender question in Nigeria has over theyears become an important issue recurring inall aspects of our national life – especially in

the area of law enforcement. Although womenconstitute over 50% of the Nigerian population,they make up less than five per cent of theNPF. Research has also established that womenpolice officers in Nigeria face many discrimina-tory laws and practices in their daily work,which in turn impact on police services towomen in the larger society. The curriculum forpolice training should be reviewed to includetraining on the handling of domestic violencecases. There is also a need to establish an officeto provide special care for women and childrenwho are victims of domestic violence, as wellas other forms of gender-based abuse in policestations in Nigeria.

3.6 Police welfare and conditions of service

Police welfare and conditions of service shouldbe improved to enhance staff morale, which ispresently at a low ebb.

CONCLUSIONTo summarise: the current ad hoc and limitedreform measures being adopted by the govern-ment and the police force may fail unless a fun-damental reorganisation of the force isembarked upon.

133

Chukwuma

1) SA Asemota, Policing under civilian andmilitary administration, in TN Tamuno; ILBashir; EEO Alemika and AO Akano(eds), Policing Nigeria (Lagos: MalthousePress, 1993) p.59.

2) IC Chukwuma and Akin Ibidapo-Obe(eds), Law Enforcement and Human Rights

in Nigeria (Lagos, Civil LibertiesOrganisation, 1995) p.66.

3) O Otite, Ethnic Pluralism and Ethnicity in

Nigeria (Ibadan: Shaneson, C.I. Ltd, 1990).4) EOO Alemika (1993a) Colonialism, state

and policing in Nigeria, Crime, Law and

Social Change, 20:187-219. The police forces and constabularies were:McCorsky Police/Consular Guard (1861);Armed Police Force (1863); Gold CoastConstabulary (1876); Lagos Constabulary(1886); The Lagos Police (1895-1897);Annesly Police (1889); Oil Rivers Irregular(1892); Court messengers (1892); NigerCoast Protectorate Constabulary (1894);Niger District Police (1900-1905);Southern Police Force (1902); SouthernPolice Force (1917); Royal NigerCompany Constabulary (1888); NorthernNigeria Constabulary (1903); NorthernNigeria Police (1917) and Nigeria PoliceForce (1930). For details of these forces, see the ency-clopaedic historical work of TN Tamuno(1970) Police in Modern Nigeria (Ibadan:Ibadan University Press) and EEO Alemika(1930a). From 1914–1966, there was adual police system – those established bycolonial forces and local police forces thatwere managed by colonial surrogates, tra-ditional rulers and native authorities. For adetailed discussion of these latter forcessee Kemi Rotimi (1993) and PT Ahire(1993) both in TN Tamuno, IL Bashir,EEO Alemika and AO Akano (eds)Policing Nigeria: Past, Present and

Future, (Lagos: Nigeria Police Force andMalthouse Press).

5) EEO Alemika (1993a) ibid and EEOAlemika (1998) Policing and Perceptionsof Police in Nigeria, Police Studies 11 (4):161-176, and PT Ahire (1991) Imperial

Policing (Milton Keynes: Open UniversityPress.)

6) Letter from Governor HS Freeman to theDuke of Newcastle, 31 December 1863 –National Archives, Ibadan: cso /i/i/i. Thisforce was also known as the Armed HausaPolice Force, because it consisted largelyof Hausas who had been freed from slaveryaround Lagos. Creating enmity betweenthe public and the police was therefore acolonial policy implemented throughrecruitment and employment, in order toachieve effective containment of opposi-tion to colonial rule. See EEO Alemika(1988) ibid, Tamuno (1970), Chapter 1, opcit for further discussion.

7) Denton and Rippon, 2 August 1893 at theNational Archives, Ibadan: cso/1/1/14,quoted in Police–Community Violence in

Nigeria, Centre for Law EnforcementEducation, Lagos, January 2000 and alsocited in Tamuno (1970) op cit p.28 andalso in Alemika (1988) op cit.

8) See Alemika (1988) ibid; Alemika (1993a)op cit and F Odekunle (1979) The NigerianPolice Force: a Preliminary Assessment ofFunctional Performance, International

Journal of Sociology of Law 7 61-83. 9) Examples include the activities of the colo-

nial constabulary police in the pillage ofBenin Kingdom (1897), Opobo nation andthe battle for Niger confluence, occupiedby various ethnic nationalities such asAbinu (Bunu land), Bassa Nge, Oworo,Kakanda, Egbura etc. between 1895 and1900. The “victory” of the British force ledto the formation and proclamation of theProtectorate of Northern Nigeria withLokoja as headquarters on 1 January 1900.

10) Such instances include women anti-taxriots in the east (1929-1930); in WarriProvince (1927-1928); in Abeokuta (1948);industrial labour strikes in Burutu (1945);Enugu (1949) and the general strike(1945). Scores of unarmed men andwomen were killed or maimed in theseincidents by colonial forces.

11) Innocent Chukwuma, Police Powers andHuman Rights in Nigeria, Law

Enforcement Review, Lagos, January-March, 1998, p.26

12) SA Asemota, Policing Under the Civilianand Military Administration, in Policing

ENDNOTES

134

Chukwuma

Nigeria, Malthouse Press Limited, Lagos,1993, p.396.

13) Innocent Chukwuma and Ogaga Ifowodo(eds), Policing a Democracy, Centre forLaw Enforcement Education, Lagos, 1999,p.2.

14) Philip B Heymann, Principles of Demo-cratic Policing, in US Department of

Justice, Policing in Emerging Demo-

cracies: Workshop Papers and Highlights,NIJ Research Report, October 1995,www.ncjrs.org/txtfiles/167024.txt

15) Op cit.16) John Okafor, Plots and counter plots, Tell

Magazine, Lagos, 21 August 2000, p.2417) Cosmos Akpunobi, Clinton stops reps,

Daily Champion, Lagos, 24 August 2000,p.1

18) DH Bayley, Who are we kidding? Ordeveloping democracy through policereform, in US Department of Justice,

Policing in Emerging Democracies:

Workshop Papers and Highlights, NIJ

Research Report, October 1995,www.ncjrs.org/txtfiles/167024.txt

19) Op cit.20) Adewale Maja-Pearce, From Khaki to

Agbada: A handbook for the February

1999 elections in Nigeria, Civil LibertiesOrganisation, Lagos, 1999, p.33.

21) For further reading on this refer to thereport on the election produced by theTransition Monitoring Group, a coalitionof 63 human rights and civic organisationsin Nigeria, that monitored the elections.

22) David H.Bayley, The contemporary prac-tices of policing: A comparative view,quoted by Mark Malan in Police Reform in

South Africa: Peace Building Without

Peacekeepers.

http://www.iss.co.za/Pubs/ASR/8.3/Police%20reform.html (8/16/2000), p.1

23) Etannibi Alemika and InnocentChukwuma, Police Community Violence in

Nigeria, Centre for Law EnforcementEducation, Lagos, February 2000, p.10

INTRODUCTIONFrom the moment of its establishment as anindependent state in 1991, Ukraine has chosenthe road of democratic development. Since1991, all state institutions have faced the chal-lenge of reform – moving from a situationwhere they were closely allied to the needs ofthe state, to one where they respect the rights ofthe individual and protect citizens from abuse.One of the key state bodies facing this chal-lenge is the Ukrainian police.

Among the most important tasks of policereformation in Ukraine is improving the rela-tionship between the police and the public, cre-ating a relationship based on trust, mutualunderstanding and goodwill. This is essentialas the police cannot successfully tackle crimealone; public cooperation is vital in thisprocess. To date, the process of police reformin Ukraine has been slow, although a numberof legislative acts have been adopted by parlia-ment, by the President and by the Ministry ofInternal Affairs.

I would like to consider some of the prob-lems facing the Ukrainian police and to lookspecifically at a project currently under way inthe city of Kharkiv, which aims to improve therelationship between the police and the public.The project – funded by the United Kingdom’s(UK’s) Foreign and Commonwealth Office andin partnership with the Scarman Centre at theUniversity of Leicester in the UK – adopts aresearch-based approach to addressing theproblem. I would like to draw upon datarecently collected as part of this project fromthe police and the public in the two researchareas selected within the city. The areas were

selected to reflect differing socio-economicgroups within the city and therefore providevastly different settings for attempting to intro-duce schemes which may improve relationsbetween the police and the public. One area,Komintemovski, is within the heart of the cityand has a high population density, togetherwith a mix of residential and industrial usage.The second area, Solonitsevka, is on the edgeof the city and is a much more rural area with amix of residential and agricultural land use.

1. PUBLIC ATTITUDES TO CRIME AND POLICING I would like first to present some brief researchresults.

In terms of how the public views the work ofthe police, the views of the public were evenlysplit between those who thought they did agood job (34%), those was thought they did abad job (32%), and those who did not have anopinion (32%). In other words, just one-third ofthe population currently believe that the policedo a good job in terms of solving crime andmaintaining public order in their area.

When asked about their knowledge of thepolice in their area and the extent to which theycame into contact with them, those surveyedshowed a significant gulf in contact betweenthe police and the public. More than 80% didnot know the telephone number of the localpolice station – the number most familiar tothem was “02” (equivalent to 911 in the UnitedStates [US] and 999 in the UK). More than90% had not been in contact with either a beator patrol officer in the past 12 months, while asimilar proportion stated that a beat officer hadnot visited them during the same period.

135

Reform of the Police in Ukraine: The Need for Cooperation Between the Police and Public in Tackling Crime

Alexey Povolotskiy

136

Povolotskiy

When members of the public had beenstopped in the street by a police officer, almosthalf had had their pockets searched and in three-quarters of cases, the police officer conductingthe search did not explain to the respondents thereason why they had been stopped.

Information from the police themselvesshowed that they had little time to carry out“patrols” or felt a need to prioritise makingcontact with the public. When they did, it wasto carry out searches or to find somebody will-ing to be a witness.

Further data from the survey showed theextent to which the public had a very negativeimpression of the Ukrainian police. A largeproportion of those interviewed expressed theview that the police take bribes, regularlyexceed their powers and act with indifferenceor hostility when asked for help by members ofthe public. Very often respondents describedthe police as “rude”, “hard” and “unsympathet-ic”. The public also thought that the policewere selective in their patrols, avoiding thoseareas which were considered to be dangerous.One of the respondents elaborated this pointwith a local joke: “Excuse me officer, is thisarea considered dangerous?” To which the offi-cer replies, “If it were dangerous, I wouldn’t behere!”

It is obviously easy to focus on the negativefindings from the survey, however, some of theresults were very positive. For instance, almost83% of respondents could not remember a casewhen the police did not respond to their call forassistance. What was even more encouragingwas that when members of the public wereasked whether they were willing to cooperatewith the police in the future, some 39%answered yes, with a further 21% saying proba-bly yes and an additional 21% who did notknow. If we aggregate the first two responses,then we have nearly two-thirds of the popula-tion willing to cooperate, with perhaps a furtherquarter who might be persuaded if the circum-stances were favourable. This is vitally impor-tant data which clearly identifies willingness onthe part of the public to work with the police.

The survey did show marked differences inopinion between those residents living in thecity (Kominternovski) and those in the morerural area (Solonitsevka). Those in Solonit-sevka were generally more familiar with theirbeat officer, the chief of the police and other

police officers working in the area. This differ-ence is partly explained by the increased stabil-ity and length of tenure of those living in thisarea – people tend not to move very often fromthis area and therefore had an opportunity to“get to know” the local police. It also meantthat “strangers” in the area were often quitenoticeable and the public were more willing towork with the local police and certainly had ahigher level of contact than their compatriots inthe Kominternovski area. This situation wasfurther facilitated by the fact that many of theofficers working in the Solonitsevka area hadgrown up there and therefore had much closerties to the community than officers in theKominternovski area, who on the whole did notcome from that part of the city.

In terms of particular concerns about crimewithin the two areas, problems of burglary,street robberies and general “hooliganism”were highlighted. There were also concernsabout “youth crime” and their involvement inillegal drinking and drug taking.

2. PROBLEM OF POLICING IN UKRAINE Most would agree that the level of remunera-tion for police officers and other state officialsis woefully low. In the past few years, policeofficers have only received approximately 30%of their pay and the average salary is in theregion of US$30–50 a month. Clearly, such asmall salary can hardly support a family orinspire officers to fully commit themselves tothe changing role now required in the “new”Ukraine. Equally, funds are not available forequipment to help officers carry out theirduties. Many do not have radios and stories ofofficers not being able to respond to calls sincetheir patrol cars were out of petrol are common.Given this, it is perhaps hardly surprising thatthe rate of officers leaving the police is rapidlyrising or that those who do remain engage in“other” activities to bolster their monthlysalary. Within the Kominternovski area, theentire police force has changed in the past twoyears. This is hardly conducive to the success-ful development of “community policing”.

There is certainly a problem of inertia withinthe Ukrainian police and a lack of will tochange. This is partly understandable – don’tget rid of the old until something new has beendeveloped to replace it – but it is also a reflec-tion of self-interest on the part of senior officers

137

Povolotskiy

within local and regional police forces andwithin the Ministry of Interior who benefitedfrom the old regime. This can be seen in theway in which the police continue to be man-aged with an emphasis on centralised control.Information generally flows from the centreout, and from the top down. Most ordinary andmiddle ranking police officers do not partici-pate in discussions about police policy or localneeds for policing. To show initiative is seen asneither positive nor desirable.

Training of future police officers is also anarea which requires review and change. Todate, the emphasis has been – certainly forthose entering the police at officer level – ontraining officers in the minutia of the law.Surely what is required after four years of edu-cation is trained police officers, not trainedlawyers. There is little within the current cur-riculum which highlights the need to provideskills-based training, focusing on developingthe individual, such as communication skills,arbitration and negotiation, time managementand the use of initiative and discretion. Littleuse is made of role play or of practical workplacements to improve the skills of those beingtrained to enter the police.

Finally, there is still too much emphasis onreacting to crime rather than on crime preven-tion. Certainly, the public quite rightly expectthe police to respond as quickly as possible totheir calls for assistance and this will remain akey part of policing. Crime prevention, howev-er, is also important and can be much moreeffective in terms of dealing with particularcrime problems.

3. THE WAY FORWARD So, what needs to be done? Given the title ofthis paper, improving the relationship betweenthe police and the public is a vital prerequisite.As stated earlier, the public are ready to help ifthey are given the means to do so. As part ofthe project now under way, a number of differ-ent schemes are due to be introduced. Theseinclude organising local meetings whereby thecommunity can discuss with the local policetheir problems and priorities. In addition, it isplanned to set up consultative committees withrepresentatives from the police, the communityand local government to enable them to discusscommon problems and, more importantly, todevelop ways of tackling the problem together.

It is also planned to set up an anonymous tele-phone line along the lines of “CrimeStoppers”in the UK, to enable members of the public tooffer information anonymously. Other ideasinclude changing the patrol patterns of officersto focus on known problem areas, to arrangecrime prevention visits by local beat officers, toprovide specialist advice to “at risk groups”such as the elderly and the youth and to rede-velop links between the police and localschools, where such links were abandoned dur-ing the break-up of the Soviet Union.

Second, it is important to look at ways ofreorganising the police – for example, decen-tralisation, making the police more accountableto local needs. The data from the two experi-mental areas in Kharkiv show that each areahas quite different policing priorities, with theprofiles of crime and public concern varyingmarkedly. It is very difficult for a centralisedpolicing structure to respond effectively to localneeds.

Third, the type of training given to policeofficers needs to be reviewed. Large doses oflaw training does not create an effective policeofficer. Officers need training in how to workwith the public – how to organise a localpolice–community meeting, how to interactwith the public in the street, how to arbitratebetween different groups, etc. Training is alsorequired for senior officers as well who need todevelop people-management skills, includingmotivation, leadership and appraisal.

Fourth, it cannot be ignored that a centralproblem is the low level of remuneration andthe lack of resources available to Ukrainianpolice officers. It is very difficult to persuadean officer to increase his/her level of commit-ment to the job when his/her salary is reducingin real terms. Undoubtedly, this is a politicaldecision although it could be one taken at locallevel.

Currently, local taxes are used towards partlypaying for the police in an area and this contextcould be extended in the future. In the UK,funding for the police is now evenly splitbetween the Home Office – equivalent to theMinistry of Interior in Ukraine – and local gov-ernment. Certainly local funding could be usedto focus police priorities on local problems.Ultimately, without a significant increase in thelevel of funding for policing, many of theschemes mentioned earlier will have great diffi-

138

Povolotskiy

culty getting off the ground more broadlyacross Ukraine.

CONCLUSIONIt is worth stating that crime is not only a policeproblem, but should be seen as a societal prob-lem requiring a range of groups to act togetherin partnership – police, non-governmentalorganisations, local government, communitygroups, the media, etc. Only by adopting a part-nership approach can we begin to meet thechallenges facing Ukraine in the 21st century.

Finally, I would like to thank the UK Foreignand Commonwealth Office for funding thiswork as well as Simon Williams at the BritishCouncil in Kyiv for managing the project. Iwould also like to thank colleagues at theScarman Centre at the University of Leicesterfor their contribution. This project is an exam-ple of how academics and practitioners fromdifferent countries can work together to shareexperiences on how policing in post-Sovietstates can be changed to meet the needs of thepublic, and not the state.

INTRODUCTIONHistorically, with a few notable exceptions,1

the disciplines of criminology and developmentstudies have had very few areas of conver-gence. Most criminological research has beenfocused on generating universal theories ofdeviance based almost exclusively on workbased in the developed world. Developmentstudies, on the other hand, have focused on thenuts and bolts process of alleviating povertyand creating sound economies in marginalisednations. It is only with the recent occurrence ofmajor crime problems in Eastern Europe, LatinAmerica, Asia, and Africa that an area of com-mon concern has emerged.

These local crime problems have appeared ata time of increasing globalisation, including thegrowth in international organised crime. Theprocess of globalisation has also challenged ourunderstanding of development. There is nownew emphasis on the importance of attractinginvestment and developing export-orientedeconomies that can flourish in a competitiveglobal marketplace. International lending insti-tutions, which have tremendous influence inshaping government policy in developingnations, have insisted that this can only beaccomplished by downsizing state bureaucra-cies and opening local markets to internationalcompetition. While the long-term effects of thispolicy are still unclear, it has certainly resultedin immediate hardship for many emergingnations.

In addition to this major economic transition,many developing countries are simultaneouslyundergoing radical political transformation.Driven in no small part by economic globalisa-

tion, authoritarian or statist regimes have givenway to new democracies. In many cases, thishas meant the surrender of ideologies that havedictated everything from the structure ofnational government to the nature of privatelife for decades.

The entire world, but especially developingnations, is in a state of flux. Like the heat gen-erated by the shifting of tectonic plates, rapidchange necessarily creates friction. The stressof attempting to survive and grow in a worldwhere the rules are constantly changing hastaken its toll on the delicate fabric of socialcohesion. It is therefore not surprising that thishas manifested itself in many individuals,groups, and whole nations “falling out of theloop” altogether.

This brief paper will broadly survey the rela-tionship between crime and development. Itwill initially examine some of the general waysin which crime can impede the developmentprocess, and will then consider whether a lackof development necessarily generates crime.

1. CRIME IMPEDES DEVELOPMENTThe following news article appeared in SouthAfrica’s Mail & Guardian national weeklynewspaper on March 19, 1999:

“Thieves make off with PE school

THIEVES in Port Elizabeth’s Kwazakheletownship this week stole Sophakama HighSchool.

On Tuesday its 11 classrooms were stillthere, but when pupils arrived onWednesday morning, they had vanished,along with the surrounding security fence.The only evidence the school had ever been

141

Crime as a Development Issue

Ted Leggett

142

Leggett

there were concrete struts embedded in thefoundation.

‘I couldn’t believe my eyes!’ said princi-pal Nkululeko Klaas, adding the struts hadremained only because ‘they couldn’t getthem out of the concrete.’ In what Klaaslabelled a ‘masterpiece,’ a parade of donkeycarts, panel vans and trucks had cartedeverything away overnight.

‘It wasn’t only at night,’ Klaas stam-mered. ‘People had started coming andhammering away during the day. About 10 m or 15 m from the school there arehouses and the people there didn’t do any-thing to stop them.’...”

This anecdote humourously illustrates one ofthe more overt ways in which crime can nega-tively impact on development – the very mech-anisms of social upliftment may be plunderedby those too desperate to wait for long-termbenefits. This is not a unique case in SouthAfrica. A similarly direct pillaging of develop-ment resources is seen in the theft of copperpower and communications cable for resale2

and the disassembly of bus shelters for buildingmaterials. Contractors are robbed while theyattempt to construct public housing, and oncethe houses are built, people may be too afraid tomove into them.3 At a more abstract level, edu-cational opportunities are effectively “looted”by the thousands of “ghost” teachers who col-lect paycheques without ever bothering toinstruct a class.4

Crime is a development issue, and, for coun-tries like South Africa, it may be the key devel-opment issue. In the international competitionto attract the elusive investment capital thatcharacterises the globalised age, domesticcrime and corruption are major impedimentsfor developing nations. They represent the kindof instability that only attracts speculation, andthis speculation, if it even materialises, gener-ates further instability.

Few international corporations will seek tocreate a substantial presence in countries whereimported staff are at risk, local property is sub-ject to loss, and insurance costs are high. Forexample, a major drawback to investing inColumbia is that foreign executives residentthere must be insured against kidnapping.Individual policies for high profile individualscan run into tens of thousands of dollars ayear.5 This is aside from any “hazardous duty

incentives”, bodyguards, armoured vehicles andother security systems, all of which must beprovided and all of which impact on the bottomline.

Lack of long-term international attention alsodiscourages domestic investment, since greaterreturns can be found in following internationalmoney flows. Lack of domestic investment actslike a vote of no confidence in the local econo-my by the people who should know best, anddiscourages international investors further still.The cycle feeds upon itself.

The World Bank states: “ . . . many states are performing their corefunctions poorly: they are failing to ensurelaw and order, protect property, and applyrules and policies predictably. Investors donot consider such states credible, andgrowth and investment suffer as a conse-quence.”6

The World Bank requested 69 firms to rate the“credibility” of countries based on a range ofindicators. After controlling for income, educa-tion and policy distortions, a strong correlationwas found between credibility and both growthand gross investment as a percentage of grossdomestic product (GDP).

143

Leggett

Castells7 argues that local “identity” andquality of life are among the most importantfeatures in attracting investment in an increas-ingly undifferentiated global marketplace. Asthe global economy becomes more service-based, value can be generated anywhere there isa concentration of highly skilled people, andthese people are likely to congregate at thosepoints with the greatest local character and liv-ing standards. Crime destroys all this.

When local living conditions become intoler-able through fear of victimisation, the wealthysoon follow their money out of the country. In apoll of emigrating South African managers,60% mentioned crime and 47% mentioned vio-lence as their reasons for leaving.8 This “braindrain” represents a greater loss than just theprospective productivity of the emigrating tal-ent. It also means a loss of national investmentin education, which will have to be replaced atthe expense of the taxpayer. No less than theexpropriation of natural resources under colo-nialism, this siphoning of human capital repre-sents a form of looting of the third world by thefirst. Ironically, the developing world hasbecome a human capital resource for the devel-oped nations in highly skilled as well asunskilled occupations. The poor pay their taxesto train the doctors of the rich.

With the advancing integration of marketsand the entry of the massive low-wage work-force of China into the international scene, oneof the few areas of comparative advantage leftto poorer countries is their local culture andgeography. Global tourism employs 7% of thetotal global workforce9 and represents one ofthe few growing sources of lesser skill jobs.Tourism was identified by the United Nations(UN) Conference on Trade and Development asthe industry most likely to attract foreigninvestment into Africa in the early 21st century,outpacing the food and textiles industries.10

However, people don’t like to be robbed andraped on holiday, and high crime levels canscotch a local tourist industry, regardless ofhow attractive the local culture and landscapemay be.

While local artists may be slightly moreattached to the source of their inspiration thanother skilled workers, they too can be fright-ened out of their homeland. With this exodus,the generation of distinctive local culture – aninternationally marketable commodity – can

grind to a halt. The entertainment industry isnot a trivial source of income generation. It isone of the pillars of the United States (US)economy, and “entertainment” amounts to littlemore than the export of American culture andarts products. America has learned to expandprofits in this area beyond the price paid for thecreative work itself to include the “merchandis-ing” of related style-products, from the generi-cally American Levi’s jeans to the range ofHollywood derivative toys and games. It haseven learned how to manipulate its criminalcultures into to an internationally marketableproduct, from movies celebrating the AmericanMafia to the ubiquitous beat of “gangsta” rap.

Outside the US, there is also money to bemade from crime, but this process is not with-out its complications. One of the few areaswhere global profits continue to flow from thedeveloped to the developing world is illegaldrugs. Estimates of the size of the internationaldrug economy vary widely,11 but most dwarfthe legitimate annual incomes of the world’spoorest countries. Countries where drug cropsare produced or processed (like Pakistan), aswell as those used as transit points (like SouthAfrica), have a strong tendency to develop theirown substance abuse problems. The prolifera-tion of addictive drugs leads to an increase inprostitution and an overall deterioration of con-ditions for sex workers. An increase in thenumber of sex workers pushes down the ratefor sex, compelling sex workers to increase vol-umes and accede to customer demands forunsafe sex.12 Thus, both drug use and sex workhave links to another great barrier to develop-ment – HIV/AIDS.

While little research has been performed onthe psychological implications of being HIVpositive in a developing country, preliminarywork indicates that the burden of disease andpoverty can drive young people into a kind ofviolent nihilism.13 Gender violence has alsobeen linked to HIV/AIDS.14 It is estimated thathalf of all children in South Africa who arenow 15-year-olds will die of AIDS, many leav-ing children of their own behind.15 In Bots-wana, the figure is two out of three. SouthAfrica will face an estimated 800 000 AIDSorphans by 2010, young people with troubledupbringings and many with no means of sup-port besides crime.16 These children will havegreat difficulty in gaining an education since,

144

Leggett

assuming their schoolhouse has not been stolen,there may soon be a shortage of teachers.Countries like Botswana are already beginningto feel the effect of teacher losses to AIDS.Thus, in a convoluted but indisputable way,drugs lead to HIV, which in turn derails thedevelopment process.

Drugs represent just one aspect of a diverseglobal criminal economy, which is deeply inter-twined with mainstream commerce. Moneylaundering has also become one of the fewways in which tiny nations can generate profiton their sovereignty, although internationalconventions are increasingly eroding this inde-pendence. Crime has become a way in whichpoor countries can trade on their marginal sta-tus. The increasing demand for extraterritoriallaw enforcement, spearheaded by the US DrugEnforcement Administration via the war ondrugs, may destroy even this advantage. Evenwithin the criminal economy, the developedworld continues to promote its own marketinterests.

Individuals within the government have alsolearned to capitalise on national marginality.Corruption is facilitated by the new, scaled-down state, and whole nations can fall prey topredatory “kleptocracy”.17 Aside from thedirect costs to the taxpayer (which can be con-siderable), officials may allow the looting oflocal resources and the exploitation of locallabour by outside interests in exchange for pri-vate kickbacks. Leaders like the former Zaire’sMobutu Sese Seko may intentionally sabotage awell-developed national infrastructure in orderto facilitate further theft.

As might be expected, the less developed thecountry, the greater the perception of corrup-tion, and perceptions determine investmentdecisions. A World Bank study indicated thatcounties with high levels of corruption and lowpredictability of payments and outcomes had agross investment to GDP ratio of 12.3%, com-pared to 28.5% for less corrupt and more pre-dictable countries.18 Using TransparencyInternational’s 1999 Corruption Perception’sIndex (CPI), ratings for 96 countries can beseen to be positively correlated with theirHuman Development Index (HDI), as the fol-lowing scatterplot suggests.19

Aside from these arguments, the costs of vio-lent and property crime in terms of direct med-ical costs, lost assets and productivity and gen-

eral demoralisation cannot be adequately tal-lied. It is impossible to determine how manybusinesses have folded and how many jobshave been lost as a consequence of the burdenof crime. The impact of crime on individuallives – the premature deaths, the lingering trau-matisation – is beyond reckoning.

The costs of maintaining a large police force,prosecution service, and corrections systemmust also all be added to the tally. In SouthAfrica, where most citizens would agree thatthe criminal justice system is not adequatelyresourced, government expenditure on crime-related services could account for as much as asixth of the non-interest budget.20 This is morethan is spent on any other single area and ismoney that is not being spent on developing thecountry.

Thus, it becomes clear that crime and the fearof crime can impede development in a varietyof ways. If it is true that a lack of development,or perhaps the development process itself, isresponsible for the crime problem, we may findourselves in a very difficult position indeed.

2. DOES LACK OF DEVELOPMENT PROMOTECRIME?It stands to reason that a traumatised populace,suffering in poverty and cut off from legitimatemeans of income generation, might well beexpected to engage in a range of crimes. But itis generally acknowledged that the poorestcountries are not the most crime ridden, andrelatively affluent ones, like the US, have seri-ous crime problems. Thus, it is pretty clear thatcrime has a negative impact on development,but does the lack of development really causecrime?

The relationship between poverty (and the

145

Leggett

social problems related to it) and crime hasbeen thoroughly explored in the field of crimi-nology. The three major schools of classicalcriminology (anomie/strain, learning/differen-tial association, and control theory) all dealwith the issue. Each of these theories has foundempirical support among it proponents and hasbeen empirically contested by detractors. Eachof these theories predicts an increase in crimein countries undergoing the process of develop-ment.

The anomie/strain theory was first advancedby Merton in 1938. It is based on Durkheim’scoinage of the term “anomie” to describe thestate of “normlessness” that he witnessed inFrance during its industrial period. Generalisingfrom this experience, he postulated that:

“During periods of rapid social change, tra-ditional norms may be viewed as no longerapplicable to behaviour, leaving people freeto pursue any ends by any means.”21

Anomie/strain theory has come to focus on thepressures experienced (especially among youngmales) when society promotes a goal that is notattainable by a segment of the population. Thishas been especially applied to ghetto youth in amaterialistic America, but has also been appliedto wealthier people in situations of “relativedeprivation”. The core idea is that people fed amaterialistic value system without being sup-plied with the means of attaining material goalsare likely to engage in crime, including proper-ty crime, instrumental violent crime and frus-tration violence. This is clearly a scenarioapplicable to countries entering the world ofglobalised capitalism.

Many observers of international developmenthave objected to the way the Western market-ing machine has pushed consumerism in coun-tries where the means of achieving materialobjectives are limited. An entire movement ofacademics and activists have rallied to contestthis type of cultural imperialism,22 though gen-erally without reference to the possible effectsit might have on local crime. It is disturbingthat Western commercial interests are relent-lessly promoting a value system that Westernscientists acknowledge contributes to increas-ing crime across the planet.

The learning/differential association theorywas founded on the work of Sutherland,23 but isalso associated with the work of the ChicagoSchool.24 The central idea behind this theory is

that people living in areas of anonymity andheterogeneity, particularly poor urban youth,generate their own subcultures of crime.Youths brought up in these areas learn tobecome criminals by association with otherssubscribing to these subcultures. Rather thansimply defying the rules to attain prescribedgoals, they generate their own “rule of thestreets”, where qualities not sanctioned bymainstream society (such as a capacity for vio-lence) are valued. By labelling those whoengage in crime as “criminals” and excludingthem from the mainstream, society forces theseindividuals to become “secondary deviants”,fully embracing the alternative value system.

The fragmented and heterogeneous nature ofmany developing countries makes them primecandidates for the growth of alternative crimi-nal cultures. In countries emerging from manyyears of civil war or political oppression, theveneration of violence may already form part ofthe dominant culture. In development theory,the “social exclusion” hypothesis was advancedin France to explain how many aspects of“poverty” could persist despite widespreadaccess to state provided income, housing andhealth care.25

For a variety of reasons, certain segments ofsociety can find themselves excluded from par-ticipation in the political, economic and socialmainstream of a country. This can result in theexcluded group engaging in a range of anti-social and even self-destructive behaviour,including criminal activity.

Control theory is probably best articulated byHirschi.26 Control theory posits that humanbeings naturally break the law when sufficientsocial bonds do not constrain action. Hirschidescribes social bonds enforcing conformity tolaw as consisting of four elements: attachment,commitment, involvement and belief.

“Attachment” promotes conformity for emo-tive reasons, out of sensitivity for the feelingsand opinions of others in one’s social network.“Commitment” is defined as the rational deci-sion not to risk social investment by deviance.The extent of individual “involvement” inmainstream activities also limits opportunitiesfor crime, due to simple time constraints.Finally, and perhaps most powerfully, “belief”in social norms places strong internal controlson behaviour. All of these elements are threat-ened by rapid social change, including democ-

146

Leggett

ratisation, economic development and adjust-ment to globalisation.

In development theory, the notion of “socialcapital” has risen to prominence.27 This theoryacknowledges that the intangible networks oftrust and exchange that develop within stablecommunities have a very real economic value.Recognition of the cost of losing this capitaldue to the social disruption caused by globalcapitalism provides an economic dimension tostrain theory.

While the development process disruptssocial control on individuals, it also limits thecapacity of the state to provide deterrents forcriminal activity. States investing in basic edu-cation, infrastructure development, and indus-trial support may lack the necessary resourcesto support an effective criminal justice system.States may find themselves torn between work-ing towards crime prevention by provision ofemployment and social services on the onehand, and establishing social order as a founda-tion for economic development on the other.

In addition to these classic theories, a numberof analysts have viewed criminality from apurely economic perspective.28 Crime becomesa rational choice where the benefits to begained outweigh the risks. This is certainly thecase in many developing countries, where statelaw enforcement apparatus is insufficient toprovide real deterrence, and where other eco-nomic opportunities are limited. Countries intransition are often emerging from authoritarianregimes, where the brutalised populace hadpositive political motivation for discoveringhow to circumvent the mechanisms of socialcontrol. However, when a more democraticgovernment takes power, new restrictions areplaced on law enforcement, while the law-breaking skills acquired by the populaceremain. Unlike the situation in developed coun-tries, where most crime is centred on depressedinner city areas, in developing countries rapidpopulation movement has caused similar insta-bility in large rural areas. Policing techniquesthat work well in the developed world may beuseless in this context.29

Empirical testing of the predictive capabili-ties of these theories is fraught with difficulty.Contradictory evidence has even emerged instudies conducted exclusively within the devel-oped world. All these theories predict thatmany of the classic indicators of social depriva-

tion are positively correlated with criminality,but there remain many discrepancies and con-tradictions. For example, unemployment has, inmany studies, been found to be negatively cor-related with delinquency.30

Attempting to perform cross-national quanti-tative comparisons on the basis of developmentindicators and crime statistics would seem to bea relatively straightforward procedure. Stand-ardised, development-related national statisticsare collected by a number of organisations,including the UN and the World Bank, andmost countries keep some sort of record ofcrime. However, different countries define dif-ferent crimes in different ways and collect dif-ferent types of information regarding crime. Inaddition, some developing countries lack thecapacity to assemble reliable national figures.

Many interpersonal crimes, such as rape andassault, are severely underreported in mostcountries. However, the degree of underreport-ing varies greatly according to the stigmaattached to victimisation in the local social con-text.31 Even if crimes are reported, differentjurisdictions have differing policies on theimportance of recording these reports if thereappears to be insufficient evidence to merit aninvestigation or prosecution. Instances of someproperty offences that are well reported, likeautomobile theft, vary greatly in accordancewith local access to resources. There is very lit-tle auto theft in countries with very few motorvehicles, for example. Other types of crime,such as drug crimes and prostitution, are entire-ly reliant on police initiative for enforcement.Thus, the international crime figures publishedby the United Nations Development Pro-gramme (UNDP)32 provide the following coun-terintuitive results:• Canada has one of the highest recorded rape

rates in the world (267 per 100 000), secondonly to Estonia in the UNDP figures.

• The rate of drug crimes in Switzerland (574per 100 000) is more than 10 times that inColumbia (40 per 100 000).

• The rate of total reported crimes in Denmark(10 508 per 100 000) is more than five timeshigher than in the Russian Federation (1779per 100 000) and more than 100 times that ofIndonesia (80 per 100 000).

There also exists much literature (primarily ineconomics) dedicated to manipulating thesesorts of dubious figures in various arcane ways

147

Leggett

to arrive at ambitious conclusions regarding theuniversal nature of crime. Most of this is disre-garded by specialists, who focus instead on theone crime variable that seems fairly unambigu-ous – homicide.

Unfortunately, even homicide is not as clear-cut as it may seem. Interpol defines the crime“murder” as “any act performed with the pur-pose of taking human life,” which, of course,includes attempted murders. There is somesense to this broad definition since, for the pur-poses of international comparison, an assaultproducing a given injury may be disproportion-ately lethal in countries with poor or inaccessi-ble medical facilities. However, the decision toclass a crime as an attempted murder ratherthan a serious assault is highly discretionary,even within a single jurisdiction. As a result,many of the figures collected for global com-parison contain attempted murders as well asactual killings. In addition, the criteria used fordefining attempted murders are by no meansstandardised. Using South Africa as an exam-ple, including attempted murders would morethan double the murder rate, while adding in allserious assaults would multiply it by 10.

Perhaps partly due to this ambiguity, attemptsto correlate various social and economic indica-tors with homicide rates have produced mixedresults for nearly every variable screened.According to Neapolitan,33 correlations havebeen found in some studies, and not found inothers, for each of the following variables:• GDP per capita• urbanisation• proportion of youth in population• population density• infant mortality• unemployment levels• cultural integration• religionAll of these studies confronted the problem ofdetermining what constitutes a “representativesample” of nations, and most focused on coun-tries where statistics were most accessible andmost reliable (i.e., developed countries).Neapolitan attempted to rectify this bias byfocusing on a large sample of developing coun-tries. In his analysis, one of the most promisingexplanatory variables – income inequality –failed to show a significant correlation withhomicide rates. Other “social deprivation” indi-cators also failed to show a correlation. The

single best predictor of homicide rates in thestudy was religion. The greater the percentageof Christians in a developing county, the higherthe homicide rate. The greater the percentage ofMuslims in a developing country, the lower thehomicide rate. While the deterrent effect ofsharia law seems to provide the most obviousexplanation of this finding, Neapolitan explainsit by referring to the instability generated bycolonisation, where Christian missionariesundermined the social cohesion provided bytraditional religions. He also posits, alonganomie/strain lines, that cultural integration andtraditional values are stronger in Muslim coun-tries and that individualism and materialismmay be higher in Christian nations.

The relationship between Westernisation andcrime was also explored by Huang,34 whoexamined what Durkheim terms “moral indi-vidualism” and murder rates. This characteris-tic, perhaps the flip-side of the individualismintended by Neapolitan, is defined as therespect for individual rights found in the collec-tive morality of a modern society. Using aquantitative measure of political and civilrights, Huang established a negative relation-ship between “moral individualism” and murder rates. He concludes that, “concern forindividual rights and personal dignity have de-creased levels of murder in the countries westudied”.

Without even careful examination of themanner in which civil rights are quantified, itshould be noted that Huang did not use datafrom countries experiencing rapid transition.None of the former Soviet states or EasternBloc countries were included, nor was SouthAfrica – all countries that have, arguably, expe-rienced crime booms since individual rightswere officially recognised. Instead, 12 of the 29counties are in Western Europe and all but fiveare considered countries of “high human devel-opment” by the UNDP. This sort of conve-nience sampling undermines the slight correla-tion on which Huang hangs his conclusions.

Another exploration of the impact of “west-ernisation”, this time limited to a single countryacross a certain time span, is the work of Dengand Cordilia in China.35 Since economic reformwas initiated in 1979, China has experiencedseveral distinct crime waves, the most recentclimaxing in 1991 and settling at a plateau ofapproximately 140 crimes per 100 000 from

148

Leggett

1992 to 1995. There has also been an increasein the number of serious violent and propertycrimes between 1988 and 1995. Deng andCordilia attribute this change not only to adecline in social control, but also to the activeassertion of Western materialist values, encap-sulated in the official slogan “to get rich is glo-rious”. They thus draw on, and expand, tradi-tional control and anomie/strain theories. Theypoint out several ways in which the Chinesesystem of social control was unique, and sug-gest that theoretical understanding of the causesof crime will have to be expanded to encom-pass the reality of non-Western nations.

CONCLUSIONIt is likely that the Chinese scenario, with localvariations, will be played out in other countriesin transition. Rapid social change is ubiquitous,capitalism is competitive, and not everyone canbe a winner. These problems may become

chronic, as free market capitalism is based onthe necessity for constant change and innova-tion, and demands high levels of mobility andflexibility from its workforce.

The process of development in the globalisedworld can be expected to create consumeristdesires in those least capable of satisfyingthem, inevitably leading to fragmentation andthe generation of deviant subcultures. It is like-ly to undermine whatever community andfamilial social structure still remains withoutproviding alternate structures for social invest-ment and meaning. Involvement in crime maybecome a rational decision where legitimateemployment is not forthcoming and state lawenforcement apparatus is not sufficient to pro-vide real deterrents. Developing countries mayfind themselves caught in a vicious cycle inwhich the more rapidly they try to develop, themore the costs of social transition stunt devel-opment.

149

Leggett

1) See, for example, Clinard, M and D.Abbot (1973) Crime in Developing

Countries. New York: Wiley, and themore recent Sumner, C (1982) Crime,

Justice, and Underdevelopment.Aldershot: Gower.

2) Jacobson, C (1998) Power surge wreakshavoc: Thieves steal copper wire worthR40 - and cause R1m damage in Joburg suburb. Sunday Times,7 September.

3) African Eye News Service (2000) Crimekeeps low cost houses empty. Electronic

Mail and Guardian, August 25. “Morethan half the houses in a R17.9 m low-costhousing project in Northern Province arestanding empty because beneficiariesdon’t like the location and are afraid ofcrime in the area.”

4) Munusamy, R (1999) Net closes on ringsripping off province. Sunday Times, 7November.

5) Pelton, R., C. Aral, and W. Dulles (1998)Fielding’s The World’s Most Dangerous

Places. Redondo Beach, Fielding’sInternational. Pelton states: “In 1996, therewere a reported 1439 cases of kidnapping[in Columbia], a 35% increase over 1995.About a third of the abductions were car-ried out by rebel groups, while commoncriminals attached to kidnapping gangssnatched 885 victims ... Kidnapping hasbecome a US$350 million industry inColombia ... In 1996, at least 45 foreignerswere abducted and more than US$160million paid to kidnappers in Colombia ...Fewer than one in 30 kidnappers are evercaught and sentenced. Fewer than half thekidnappings that actually take place areever reported.”

6) World Bank (1997) World Development

Report. New York: Oxford UniversityPress, p 5.

7) Castells, M (1998) The Power of Identity.Oxford: Blackwell Press.

8) Mittner M (1999) Why SA managers arepacking for Toronto. Finance Week, 16April.

9) Castells, M (1998) End of the Millennium.Oxford: Blackwell Press, p 151.

10) Bennett, J (2000) Tourism can do won-

ders, but it isn’t exactly a holiday. Sunday

Times, August 14.11) Ibid. p 169. Castells mentions the estimate

of $500 billion, more than the global tradein oil. According to the UNDP World

Development Report 2000, the total grossnational product for all of sub-SaharanAfrica was just $311 billion.

12) Leggett, T. (1999) Poverty and Sex Workin Durban, South Africa. Society in

Transition 30(2).13) LeClerc-Madlala, S. (1997) Infect one,

infect all: Zulu youth response to theAIDS epidemic in South Africa. Medical

Anthropology 17.14) Pendry, B (1998) The links between gen-

der violence and HIV/AIDS. Agenda, 39.15) Pretoria News, 28 June 2000; information

from UNAIDS, June 2000.16) Whiteside, A. and K. Michael (1998)

AIDS and development. Indicator South

Africa, 15(3).17) Bayart, J, S. Ellis, and B. Hibou (1999)

The Criminalisation of the State in Africa.Oxford: James Curry.

18) World Bank (1997) World Development

Report. New York: Oxford.19) A high CPI index is indicative of low cor-

ruption, while a high HDI is indicative ofhigh development. CPI data are takenfrom the 1999 Transparency InternationalCorruption Perceptions Survey:http://www.transparency.de/documents/cpi/index.html. HDI data from the UnitedNations Development Programme’sHuman Development Report 1999, CD-ROM edition. The CPI is generated byweighing data from a variety of surveysources, including the International CrimeVictims’ Survey. The HDI is calculated byweighing three variables: gross domesticproduct per capita, adult literacy, and lifeexpectancy. Pearson’s correlation is sig-nificant at the .01 level (2-tailed), as arethe correlations for all three HDI compo-nent variables.

20) Department of Finance, Republic of SouthAfrica (1999) National ExpenditureSurvey. Pretoria: Government Printers.

21) Elliott, D., S. Ageton, and R. Canter(1979) An integrated theoretical perspec-

ENDNOTES

150

Leggett

tive on delinquent behaviour. Journal of

Research in Crime and Delinquency, 16.22) While not directly concerned with cultural

imperialism, see, for example: Smart, B(ed) (1999) Resisting McDonaldisation.London: Sage.

23) Sutherland, E and D Cressey (1960) Atheory of differential association.Principles of Criminology. Dix Hills, NewYork: General Hall.

24) Shaw, C. and H. McKay (1942) Juvenile

Delinquency in Urban Areas. Chicago:University of Chicago Press.

25) Bhalla, A. and F. Lapayre (1997) Socialexclusion: Toward an analytical and oper-ational framework. Development and

Change, 28 (3).26) Hirschi, T (1969) Social bond theory.

Causes of Delinquency. Berkeley:University of California Press.

27) Putnam, R (1995) Bowling alone:America’s declining social capital.Journal of Democracy, 6 (1).

28) For example, see Becker, G (1968) Crimeand punishment: An economic approach.Journal of Political Economy, 76.

29) Leggett, T (2000) Law enforcement andinternational gun trafficking. In Lumpe, L(ed.) Running Guns: The Global Black

Market in Small Arms. London: ZedBooks.

30) Ploeger, M (1997) Youth employment anddelinquency: Reconsidering a problematicrelationship. Criminology, 35 (4).

31) Van Dijk , J. and P. Mayhew (1993)Criminal victimisation in the industrialisedworld: Key findings of the 1989 and 1992International Crime Surveys. In A.Alvazzi del Frate, U. Zvekic, and J. vanDijk (eds.) Understanding Crime:

Experiences of Crime and Crime Control.UNICRI: Rome.

32) United Nations Development Programme(2000) Human Development Report.

Oxford University Press: New York. 33) Neapolitan, J (1997) Homicides in devel-

oping nations: Results of research using alarge and representative sample.International Journal of Offender Therapy

and Comparative Criminology. 41 (4).34) Huang, W (1995) A cross-national analy-

sis of the effect of moral individualism onmurder rates. International Journal of

Offender Therapy and Comparative

Criminology. 39 (1).35) Deng, X. and A. Cordilia (1999) To get

rich is glorious: Rising expectations,declining control, and escalating crime incontemporary China. International

Journal of Offender Therapy and

Comparative Criminology. 43(2).

INTRODUCTIONA number of Latin American countries havemade progress in transforming their police ser-vices over the past several years. Among these,the most notable are: the creation of new civil-ian police forces in Haiti and El Salvador;efforts to rid the police of corruption and toestablish a new institutional structure in theColombian national police force; the refashion-ing of the security system of the province ofBuenos Aires; and the implementation of acommunity policing strategy by the militarypolice of São Paulo.

These changes are still in the early stages,but they constitute a response to the seriousproblems that police forces have encounteredin dealing with today’s challenges. In a paperwritten five years ago on the relationshipbetween police and the military in LatinAmerica, David Bayley stated that many LatinAmerican police forces demonstrated militaris-tic features.1 In his opinion, this meant thatpolice forces were not totally differentiatedfrom the armed forces, and at times they in factassumed a role that was subordinate to the mili-tary. Based on this characteristic, Bayley for-mulated a series of hypotheses on the relation-ship between police and community: • A significant percentage of complaints reach-

ing the police involved reports of seriouscrimes. In other words, unlike in the devel-oped, democratic countries, the public onlyresorted to the police when absolutely neces-sary.

• The police were much more responsive to thegovernment’s needs than to the demands ofcitizens.

• Latin American police used force more frequently than the police of developed,democratic countries in dealing with similarsituations.

• There was definitely less monitoring ofpolice activity than in the democratic coun-tries.

• The degree of public support for the policewas probably low.

• The internal organisational functioning of thepolice was inevitably based on a militarymodel, i.e., a hierarchical system in whichpower was centralised in the high command,with many levels between subordinate per-sonnel and the upper levels. Furthermore,subordinates obeyed orders but lacked auton-omy to respond creatively to problems.2

There is no doubt many of Bayley’s points arevalid, despite differences from country to coun-try.3 In reality, the police forces in a number ofSouth American countries face serious ques-tions and criticism as a result of: the use ofexcessive violence in carrying out their func-tions;4 corruption;5 a lack of professionalautonomy with respect to the armed forces;6

institutional corporatism;7 and serious prob-lems with regard to professionalism.8 With thepartial exception of Chile, very few peoplehave confidence in police efficiency.9 Even inChile, the people have less trust in their policethan United States (US) citizens have intheir’s.10

It is precisely this dissatisfaction with exist-ing police systems that has led to contradictoryefforts to refashion or reform them. The resulthas been efforts to create new civilian policeforces or to reform existing forces with pro-

151

Police Reform and DemocraticConsolidation: Chile

Hugo Frühling

152

Frühling

grammes to decentralise command, bring thepolice closer to the people, and strengthenmechanisms for monitoring police activity. Thefirst of these alternatives is present in countriesthat have recently undergone internal armedconflict and have moved beyond it with thehelp of international cooperation and support(El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti). The second isbeing tried in cases where distrust of the policeaffects public security, and the legitimacy ofpolitical authorities, to an extent that hasbecome intolerable. Assessment and documen-tation of these reform processes is not yet com-plete, though reports exist that contain valuableinformation on the subject.11 On the basis ofthese experiences, the steps to be taken inbringing about police reform have been system-atised,12 and suggestions have also been madefor advancing the reform process currentlyunder way.13

There has not always been consistencyamong different efforts. Most projects have runinto problems and, on occasion, have beenreversed. Recent sharp increases in violentcrime have therefore at times prompted civilianauthorities to order military patrols of thestreets in El Salvador, Guatemala, Hondurasand in Rio de Janeiro.

The hope is that this paper will contribute tothe debate on the reform process by examiningthree major aspects. The first section deals withthe main directions of police reform in recentyears in developed, democratic countries. Indescribing this, emphasis is placed on thechange of doctrine that is occurring in modernpolicing, including the importance of employ-ing properly trained personnel and of usingplanning and research as driving forces forpolice action. These changes provide a frame ofreference that is influencing the process ofreform in Latin America. The second sectionoutlines some of the reforms currently inprogress in South America, attempting to iden-tify common features. Finally, conclusions arepresented, drawn from existing experience,including the problems encountered when theo-retical models from developed countries aresuperimposed on the social and cultural reali-ties of Latin America’s urban environment.

Police reform in many of the region’s coun-tries is believed to be indispensable in guaran-teeing economic development and improvingthe quality of democracy. It is not, however, an

easy process, since it must be accomplishedexactly at a time when these countries are suf-fering an acute crime wave, precipitatingdemands to slow down the reform process inorder to respond forcefully to criminal activityand to deal with it “on its own terms.” InBrazil, models of community policing that havebeen implemented have, in some cases, beenreversed in favour of more traditional policing.This will sometimes occur following the elec-tion of a new governor, as was the case in Riode Janeiro. In addition, reform is taking placeagainst a background where police functionsare no longer a public sector monopoly; thus,the more influential segments of society haveaccess to private security systems, which weak-ens their support for police reform.

1. NEW FEATURES OF MODERN POLICEINSTITUTIONSThe police represent the public security force.More precisely, they constitute a specialised,professional public organisation authorised touse coercion to enforce the law.14 Institutionsand individuals responsible for maintainingpublic order have been in existence since theearliest times. However, the emergence ofpolice as we now know them, occurred morerecently. Only in the modern age was a spe-cialised, professional public force organised tofulfil this function.

The police are a public body, in that they areprimarily directed and financed by the commu-nity or the state, are subject to their direction,and are designed to serve all citizens equally.15

Originally, the police responded to the need tocreate a body able to uphold order when socialgroups were unable to do so on their own.

A third feature of the modern police force isthat it is a professional body, in the sense that itmakes an effort to maintain a proper and mea-surable level of efficiency. This is reflected inthe criteria used for recruiting and training per-sonnel; in rules governing promotion and retire-ment; and in a substantive interest and empha-sis on knowledge and the use of technology.16

Increased crime in both western Europe andthe US, which began in the 1950s, has pro-voked considerable thought on determiningnew police strategies to ensure order in themodern-day societies of developed countries.There is also a need to forge new relationshipsbetween the police and society, as well as a

153

Frühling

need for modern resource management strate-gies to guarantee the efficiency of the police.This process of debate points to the need forreform and suggests particular approaches.17

The elements that define this process oftransformation include: changes in police doc-trine aimed at incorporating democratic valuesin police activity so that police relate to citizensas equals; establishment of a police recruitmentand training process aimed at producing better-trained police officers; and an effort to imple-ment police research and planning to respondmore effectively to public needs.18

1.1 A new police doctrine

The meaning of professionalism, as it is gener-ally understood by the police, is to enforce thelaw effectively. This view does not, however,take into account political or social values thatgo beyond its limited objective. By this stan-dard, mere adherence to current law is suffi-cient guarantee that the police are protectingdemocratic values. Such a notion is, in a sense,a recipe for failure, and will inevitably lead tostrong distrust of police performance.

This interpretation of professionalism derivesfrom the fact that police training is essentiallylegalistic. The authority that police officialshave over subordinates, their authority over thepublic, and their immunity from undue interfer-ence from the political realm, are based on cur-rent law. Respect for the law leads naturally tothe argument that the police are a completelyprofessional institution whose purpose is tomaintain order in any situation and to reinforcethe stability of any government. Legalistic pro-fessionalism, however, is not conducive torespect for concepts such as democracy andhuman rights. These concepts are accepted tothe extent that they are supported by currentlaw, but their incorporation into police activityis slow to show itself. The lack of respect forconcepts of democracy and human rights as aguiding force leaves the police distrustful of thecitizenry. As a result, police strategies for com-bating crime pay scant attention to the concernsof the people.

The democratic concept of police doctrine isas follows:

The police observe a code of conduct thatrespects human rights. They perform theirduties in the public interest, guided by a senseof public service, and are accountable for any

actions they take in violation of the law. Inaddition, there are mechanisms in place toensure that the police are accountable for thestrategies they adopt to protect the public, forthe efficiency or seriousness with which theycarry out their duties and for respecting theviews, interests and values of the people.

As Stone and Ward point out, this definitionof accountability goes well beyond complyingwith legal obligations, and requires numerousmonitoring and management mechanisms thatexceed mere judicial measures.19

In this view, the police as an organisation,and its members, are personally responsibleboth for reducing public insecurity and fear,and for any corrupt or improper conduct withinthe organisation. With a legalistic approach,however, the line of accountability pointsupward to government officials responsible forpublic order and peace, and to the judges andprosecutors in charge of investigations.

On another level, the police are also responsi-ble for interfacing with society. This could takethe form of citizen security committees thatmay be formed at neighbourhood level, neigh-bourhood associations, and the media.

Within a democratic policing approach,police must be held accountable for abuseunder internal monitoring systems, throughtheir chains of command and – if they havecommitted crimes – through the courts.20 Fromthis perspective, the police are not only subjectto scrutiny for illegal activity, but also for theefficiency and timeliness of their performance.Furthermore, monitoring is exercised both byinstitutions, whose sole purpose is overseeingpolice performance (for example, civilianreview boards in the US that process com-plaints against the police) and by other entitieswith other functions.

A range of mechanisms for investigatingcomplaints from the public against police offi-cers has developed in recent times. While inEurope and Latin America these remain essen-tially internal, Canada and the US have a strongexternal component to disciplinary and man-agement monitoring through civilian reviewboards. These organisations process complaintsfrom the public concerning police behaviourand recommend sanctions, which in turn areapplied by the police hierarchy. The rationalefor the existence of these committees relates tothe lack of transparency associated with inter-

154

Frühling

nal investigations conducted by the policethemselves.21 In Latin America in recent years,institutions have been created to provide exter-nal monitoring of police performance, as anadjunct to the function of the courts, in cases ofcriminal activity. A Police Monitoring Officefor the state of São Paulo was therefore createdto handle complaints against the police. In ElSalvador, the Attorney General’s Office for theDefense of Human Rights publishes annualreports and channels complaints about policebehaviour to various public entities, although itis not exclusively dedicated to fielding com-plaints against the police.22

The responsibility for monitoring police effi-ciency has also shifted in recent years frompolitical authorities to citizens’ groups. Citizenadvisory groups in Sweden and Denmark haveongoing relations with the police and provide acitizen perspective on their work. In Santiago,Chile, a similar experiment was carried out,although its success was regarded as limited.

In the following case of a community polic-ing project in the state of São Paulo, bothdesign and implementation involved the partici-pation of a number of committees with sociallydiverse memberships. This necessitated the for-mation of an Advisory Committee for theCreation of the Community Police that engagedin dialogue with police to assess any problemsarising during implementation. Although theestablishment of such a committee was certain-ly an achievement, relations between its civil-ian members and the police were difficult, asPaulo de Mesquita Neto relates in his paper.23

The police took note of problems expressedduring meetings, but there was rarely any rigor-ous follow-up on the measures that were decid-ed upon. Community security councils,autonomous in their objectives and manner offunction, were established by state governmentdecree. They convene monthly and forward theminutes of their meetings to the Public SecurityCouncils Coordinator, which is an organ of theState Security Secretariat. The dialogue thattakes place in these councils between policeand citizens does not appear to be highly pro-ductive, although it does represent a first steptoward citizen involvement in police monitor-ing.24

Efforts to socialise the police and instill newdemocratic concepts have taken the form ofhuman rights training for police. In some cases,

such as that of São Paulo, training has beenprovided by members of human rights organi-sations. In cases involving the creation of newpolice forces, training has been conducted byinternational advisors.

1.2 Emphasis on training of police personnel

Given that the ability of the police to reducecrime is clearly limited, more emphasis is nowbeing placed on improving the quality of per-sonnel. There is, however, a lack of clarity indefining selection criteria – beyond those ofacademic background and minimum healthstandards.

The challenge of redefining selection criteriato meet the challenges of modern society is notby any means trivial. The police forces of otherhistorical periods required a different type ofindividual from what is needed today. Amongthe Chilean police, old-timers often remarkthat, in the old days, the force would recruitagricultural workers who valued patriotic sym-bols and were untainted by big-city life. Such aview clearly regards discipline as having a farhigher priority than a knowledge of the urbanenvironment.

It is important to begin by defining the features of police doctrine as well as majorstrategies for protecting the population. Thesestrategies will dictate the necessary qualities tobe sought when recruiting personnel, ie. disci-plined, obedient individuals with strong influ-ence or personality on the one hand, orresourceful, inventive individuals with stronginterpersonal skills, on the other.

In short, the type of individual to be recruitedwill depend on having first defined the objec-tives and characteristics to be sought in a policeforce, since this in turn will determine whatconstitutes a good police officer.

Recruits must, of course, possess a demon-strable level of emotional stability, as measuredby psychological tests and interviews. A mini-mum level of education is also necessary, sincepolice work requires that officers understandthe laws to be enforced. In addition, it wouldseem prudent to determine whether the appli-cant has a police record or other backgroundthat would make the individual unsuitable forthe profession.

In developed, democratic countries, educa-tional requirements for police have risen, par-ticularly for commanding officers. This is

155

Frühling

understandable since the police are entrustednot only with a great deal of power, but withconsiderable human and material resources.

In England at present, at least half of thecommanding officers possess a universitydegree. In the US, the average education forpolice workers increased considerably between1969 and 1990. In 1969 the average educationlevel was a secondary school diploma, while in1990 the average was two years of college edu-cation.25 In Chile’s carabineros, police officersmust have three years of instruction. Tobecome a colonel, an officer must study anadditional two years at the Instituto Superior deCarabineros.

Some police forces, such as the Japanese,accept college graduates who, after a year oftraining at the police academy, occupy impor-tant command posts, particularly in planningand administration. All of these approaches arevalid, however, they cannot be evaluated in avacuum. Each approach depends on the struc-ture of the police force in question, whererecruitment may be stratified by rank or may beegalitarian, allowing all officers to rise to thehighest levels based on their merit and seniority.

The educational qualifications of police offi-cers will also depend on the available candi-dates, which in turn will be a function of theemployment conditions that the police servicecan offer. Thus, at times, the police will have tosettle for the best personnel they can find,rather than what they require.

There are successful cases of police improve-ment, which may serve as examples. The caseof DESEPAZ, an initiative in the city of Cali,Colombia, is one such example. Having deter-mined in an initial evaluation that police offi-cers had an average of two years’ secondaryschooling, the Programme for Citizen Peaceand Security organised a project to ensure thatall police officers complete secondary school-ing within 18 months.26

Police recruitment requires the largest possi-ble number of candidates from different cultur-al and social backgrounds. If the objective is tointroduce innovative police strategies, it isdesirable to employ people who are free ofprejudices or preconceptions about the workthey are to undertake.

One final consideration is the quality andcontent of the training provided for new policerecruits. This is a subject that extends far

beyond what can be covered in this paper.Nevertheless, a number of general observationscan be made. Firstly, the extent of training at apolice academy will depend on the previousschooling of the recruit, with more intensetraining provided for those who have less previ-ous education. Secondly, instruction shouldcombine technical elements (particularly onlegal issues) with actual application to specificcases and practical exercises. Special attentionshould be paid to basic analysis of dangeroussituations in which police must exercise goodjudgment: arresting suspects, reacting to attack,etc.27

Many potential human rights abuses and useof firearms by police could be prevented byadequate firearms training or through propertraining on how to deal with various situations,such as the arrest of dangerous suspects.

Finally, it is important that training approxi-mates, as closely as possible, the actual experi-ence that recruits will eventually face as policeofficers. This entails training them to respectthe rights of persons who may be violent, andto act quickly in high-stress situations. Withoutthis training, the new police officer is bound toexperience a major gap between what waslearned and real-life situations he or she mayencounter.

The British system, in which the studentpolice officer is trained for a number ofmonths, followed by three months at a policestation under the tutelage of an experiencedcolleague, appears to be an excellent model. Atthe conclusion of this period of practical expe-rience, the student returns to, and graduatesfrom, the academy. During this final stage,he/she can discuss field experiences with teach-ers, including the discrepancies between theo-retical training received and the actual reality ofpolice work.

1.3 Police planning and research

For a police force to be successful in today’sworld it requires effective anticipation of prob-lems, the planning of strategies to solve them,daily evaluation of results, and the institution ofany organisational changes that may be neces-sary.

The police service must change from beingan organisation that primarily performs routine,pre-established procedures to a flexible entitythat can mobilise around goals, combining tra-

156

Frühling

ditional law enforcement duties – such as arrestand interrogation of suspects – with othersocially-oriented services, such as providinginformation on crime prevention, organisingactivities for young people, etc.

In dealing with crime, the importance ofresearch and planning is evident. Police mustbe thoroughly familiar with the spatial and tem-poral distribution of criminal activity, have arealistic view of changes in the patterns ofcriminal activity, and track geographicalchanges in these patterns. The former PoliceCommissioner of New York, William Bratton,summarises the duties he faced on assuming hispost as follows:• To determine, on a daily basis, where crimes

are occurring and at what times they areoccurring.

• Once this data is mapped, the various policedivisions must be coordinated effectively inorder to provide quick response.

• Before arriving at the scene of a crime, it isessential for the police officers to know inadvance what tactics will be necessary. Willthere be a need for investigation of crimesalready committed; for the major deploymentof police to reduce criminal activity in a par-ticular area; or the necessity for the institu-tion of a community policing programme?

• The last element in this strategic outline is afurther set of questions to aid in assessingeffectiveness: Are current tactics producingresults? Is the local police commander able tocoordinate efforts with other officials?Finally, what statistical changes can be iden-tified in the wake of implementing particularstrategies?28

Planning must be a multi-level process, notsolely a central one, and must include all policestations. It is clear that in today’s world, decen-tralisation is essential to effective policing.Local commanders, however, inevitably facecrucial limitations. They lack the authority toselect their own personnel, and they are com-pelled to operate within a budget and withresources over which they have no control.Decentralisation of the planning process shouldproduce a more focused approach in respondingeffectively to local, as well as general publicneeds.

There has also recently been rapid expansionin the number of entities assessing police ser-vices. Currently, this is carried out by public

entities, by police forces themselves, by privateresearch organisations, and by universities.

In 1992, for example, the Kent police sur-veyed 4000 persons with whom the police haddealt, in order to gauge their opinion in areassuch as:• degree of public satisfaction with police ser-

vices• perceived level of police presence• degree of victims’ satisfaction with services

received• relation (in percentages) between crimes

detected and crimes committed• speed in responding to calls• degree of satisfaction among persons lodging

complaints with the action taken• response time in reacting to emergency calls• response time for emergency calls• degree of satisfaction among all persons who

have had contact with the police• criticisms of the police.29

The increase in research applied to crime fight-ing within some police forces not only createsgreater efficiency, but also fosters a more cre-ative and challenging work environment forpolice officers. Ultimately, police officers willbe trained by a professional process in whichperformance is evaluated on the basis of resultsand public opinion, rather than on the basis ofpersonal relations with superiors.

It is also important to emphasise that the indi-cators used to evaluate police efficiency arechanging from the exclusive reliance on statis-tics of arrests and crimes to equally importantqualitative aspects of police work.

The concerns of proponents for police reformtherefore reflect a combination of factors thatare not always complementary. On the onehand, there is an interest in using modern man-agement techniques to address new social chal-lenges, while on the other, there is concern forrespecting the rights of individuals who areactually or potentially affected by police activi-ty. Although Latin America has its own particu-larities, these same concerns exist in their owncontext.

2. POLICE REFORM IN LATIN AMERICAThere is a distinct range of programmes aimedat police reform. Here, three examples ofreform projects currently in progress aredescribed, with emphasis on what appear to becommon elements.

157

Frühling

2.1 Public security system reformation in the

province of Buenos Aires

In 1997, two events contributed to the decisionto intervene in the operation of the police forcein the province of Buenos Aires. Firstly, therewas a marked increase in citizens’ concernsabout crime. Secondly, it was proven that mem-bers of the Buenos Aires police force had par-ticipated in an attack against the Jewish com-munity headquarters, AMIA, as well as in crim-inal activities involving José Luis Cabezas, areporter from the print media.30

The executive branch initiated active inter-vention in the Buenos Aires Police, creating aMinistry of Security that would be responsiblefor dismantling the force as it existed. Theentire upper command was dismissed, andmore than 300 police superintendents andsenior officers were removed. The existing sin-gle police force was replaced by 18 departmen-tal security police units, a police force responsi-ble for investigation, a service for the transportand custody of arrestees, and a proposedmunicipal street police unit. The departmentalsecurity police units were to functionautonomously but would be interrelated. Theirprincipal function would be the prevention ofcrime (Government of the Province of BuenosAires, 1998). In addition to the decentralisationof command, the project sought to dismantlethe existing networks of corruption through aprocess of functional differentiation. Thiswould be achieved through the creation of anumber of police organisations that would per-form the functions previously carried out by asingle entity, thereby decentralising command.

In order to ensure external monitoring ofpolice efficiency and to assess the manner inwhich the police functioned, departmental secu-rity councils were created. These comprised: arepresentative of the municipalities’ MunicipalSecurity Advocacy; one provincial assemblydeputy and one provincial senator; two execu-tive department heads from the municipalitiescomprising the judicial district; the judicial dis-trict’s prosecuting attorney; a representative ofthe bar association; and representatives ofunions, business, and religious institutions. Thefunction of the councils, established by provin-cial law, is to monitor and assess the perfor-mance and activity of the province’s policeforces, to obtain reports from the heads of thevarious newly established police forces and to

engage, as needed, in finding peaceful solutionsto social conflicts.

In addition, it was proposed that neighbour-hood security forums comprising non-govern-mental community organisations or entitiesrecognised for their social participation, beformed. These would be involved in evaluatingthe performance and activity of the province’spolice forces, and could participate in planningto prevent activities or events of a criminalnature or that would be harmful to public secu-rity.

Finally, the Municipal Security Advocacywas created to protect the public’s individualand collective rights vis-à-vis actions, or failureto act, on the part of government, police forcesor private policing firms.31

With regard to the internal monitoring ofpolice conduct, an Ethic’s Court was estab-lished in addition to an appointive commission-er for internal affairs which operated under theMinistry of Security.

Objective evaluations of Buenos Aires’spolice reform process are not yet available.However, by the end of 1999, electoral consid-erations guided the governor of the province toappoint a new minister and a new head of thepolice. It is clear that not all aspects of thereform process have been implemented.

2.2 Colombian police reform

Unlike the situation in the province of BuenosAires, the reform of the Colombian police force– which had traditionally been considered cor-rupt, inefficient and was widely thought to beinfiltrated by drug traffickers – was initiated bythe institution’s own leadership, rather thanthrough political intervention. Today, theresults are generally considered to be highlypositive. Both international observers andnational public opinion reflect a considerableincrease in confidence in the police force.32

The reform process began with the appoint-ment of Major General Rosso José Serrano ashead of the National Police in 1994. Heobtained authorisation from Congress toremove officers who, on the basis of sound evi-dence, were suspected of having engaged incorrupt activities. Approximately 7000 policeofficers were dismissed. Unlike other opera-tions to purge corruption, this effort was per-ceived as credible, and affected not only subor-dinates, but upper-level officials as well.

158

Frühling

The second step involved altering the struc-ture and culture of the force and introducingmanagement concepts from modern businessculture. The School of Administration of theUniversidad de los Andes collaborated with thepolice in this phase of the project.

The 1998 Institutional Strategy Plan recom-mended six institutional policies: communityparticipation, a new work culture, strengthenedoperational capacity, management develop-ment, an emphasis on knowledge and effectivemanagement of the administrative system.Flowing from these policies were strategicgoals and tasks for each police division. Inorder to encourage creativity, a less hierarchi-cal, less concentrated structure was created inplace of the old one.

This comprised three levels: governing enti-ties; consultation and support entities, includingthe Office of the Inspector General, which per-forms the important task of developing indica-tors to determine whether the strategic plan isbeing met; and executive entities which devel-op and perform the tasks necessary to imple-ment the entire process.33

The predominant discourse with regard tothis reorganisation process is the enhancementof officers’ management abilities and substan-tial improvement in resource administration. Inaddition, the discussion includes a communitycollaboration component.

This is reflected in a number of ways, includ-ing “consultation with the citizenry to providethe basis for a new police service, the creationof new, expedited channels of communicationfor complaints and claims, including the provi-sion of customer-service lines and lastly, thecreation of so-called citizens’ consortiums forchange.

These consortiums are interdisciplinary workteams led by the National Police, and involvethe development of formulas for fostering con-ditions in which everyone can live togetherpeacefully. An example of this is the “PlanDorado” which draws together public and pri-vate service providers who work at the ElDorado international airport.34

The transformation of the Colombian policehas had a distinctly positive effect on publicconfidence in the police. A more detailedassessment is, however, needed concerning thenature of community interaction, as well as theeffect on crime rates.

2.3 Community policing plan for the military

police of São Paulo

The Military Police of São Paulo, like the mili-tary police in all of Brazil’s states, is an auxil-iary force of the army that performs preventivepolice functions but is regulated, organisation-ally and functionally, through the Ministry ofthe Army.

Between the 1980s and the 1990s, the state ofSão Paulo, like the rest of Brazil, experienced ahuge rise in crime. According to HealthMinistry data reproduced by Paulo de MesquitaNeto, the number of deaths due to homicide orintentionally inflicted injuries increased from3452 in 1980 to 12 350 in 1996, with the homi-cide rate reaching 36.20 per 100 000 inhabi-tants. This was accompanied by a dramatic risein theft.

Faced with this situation, the failure of thepolice was reflected in a number of areas.There were frequent incidents of police vio-lence, which received wide coverage in themedia. In 1995, 618 citizens were killed by themilitary police. Furthermore, surveys indicatedthat as a result of people’s view of the police asinefficient, and their fear of involvement withthe police, only 33% of crimes were actuallyreported to the police.35

On 10 December 1997, the top commanderof the military police officially adopted theconcept of community policing as a philosophyand operational strategy.

This model of police activity acquired greatfavour in the US and Canada in the 1980s,though components of it have long beenapplied in England. Today, its application isbeing discussed in a number of Latin Americancountries.

Definitions of the community policing modelvary,36 but certain essential elements are com-mon to all: • Preventive activity in very small geographic

areas.• Establishment of close relations with the

community, attempting to maintain ongoingconsultation with citizens, in order to providemonitoring of police action and to ensure thatthe perceptions of people are taken intoaccount.37

• Efforts by the police to involve the communi-ty in preventive action.

• A concerted initiative to engage the police instudying the conditions and circumstances

159

Frühling

that lead to the commission of crimes or toviolations that disrupt the lives of the people.

A community police programme requires thatthe radius of police action is reduced to a spe-cific neighbourhood. A group of police officerswork in the area on an ongoing basis, patrollingon foot to gain familiarity with the neighbours,the existing security situation, and the risks thatthe residents face.38

Police engage in ongoing consultations withneighbourhood residents. These consultationsfulfil a number of main functions, they: • inform the police of local interests and needs,

which at times are different from the needsthat the police perceive

• establish a means for the police to educatethe public about crime prevention behaviour

• allow citizens to express their complaintsdirectly to the police, providing an immediateand direct public means of assessing policeefforts.39

In the case of São Paulo, the main body respon-sible for implementing the community policingprogramme was the Advisory Commission forthe Implementation of Community Policing.This commission does not have a fixed numberof members. In August 1998 it comprised rep-resentatives from human rights centres, com-munity councils, the Federation of Industry andbusiness councils, among others.

Within the Commission, discussions wereheld on public security problems, and anattempt was made to set priorities and to identi-fy solutions. This led to a defined set of goalsand objectives for the police, including anemphasis on democratic values and respect forhuman rights, which had never been a part ofmilitary police doctrine. The goals set are:• to implement the community policing model

as an organising strategy of the militarypolice

• to improve the quality of police instructionand training

• to improve the recruitment and promotionsystem

• to integrate the police with other public enti-ties

• to improve the status and rights of thepolice.40

Forty-one military police companies were cho-sen for the project including patrols, womenpolice officers, traffic police, railroad police,forestry police and firemen. Company com-

manders chose the neighbourhoods where theproject was to be implemented. The number ofcompanies involved in the project graduallygrew, and as of August 1998, 7269 police offi-cers were involved in community-based work.

The new plan of action led to more preven-tive patrolling in selected areas, and the estab-lishment of permanent 24-hour police posts. Inaddition, efforts aimed at school security anddrug abuse programmes were undertaken. Inorder to provide officers with training in com-munity policing, courses on the subject wereoffered – 16 963 police officers attended duringthe first semester in 1998.41

Community participation in the process ofimplementing reform in the police force waslacking in some respects. The attendance of cit-izen participants at meetings of the AdvisoryCommission for the Implementation ofCommunity Policing declined with time, while,as has been indicated, the proportion of policeofficers participating increased.

Governmental decree also established com-munity security councils. These comprisedindividuals from a particular police district whowould meet to discuss public security problemsand to propose solutions in collaboration withthe police. Paulo de Mesquita Neto states thatthese councils have functioned more as venuesfor individual complaints about, and demandsof, the police than as a means of solving collec-tive problems. Use of the councils for politicalpurposes, as well as lack of interest and trainingon the part of both the police and the civilianparticipants, are some of the problems that havehindered the success of these councils.

Furthermore, the success of communitypolicing projects depends on altering the organ-isational and command structure of the police.There is a need for greater decentralisation,with greater accessibility between the varioushierarchical positions, thereby creating a morehorizontal relationship between personnel.There is also a need to instill democratic cultur-al and professional values in police personnel.The reality is that there are many serious obsta-cles to implementing the community policingmodel as long as a military structure remains inplace.42

2.4 Possibilities for change, criticisms and

preventive measures

This brief overview of three current examples

160

Frühling

of reform demonstrates that the impetus forchange is always an acute crisis – one that attimes calls into question the very existence ofthe police force in place. Once the reformprocess begins, two primary sources of resis-tance can be observed. The first comes directlyfrom the police and its employees. Paulo deMesquita Neto states that the low degree ofprofessionalism of the Brazilian police, particu-larly in the smaller cities, weakened their resis-tance to a community policing strategy, sinceprofessionalism accentuates the separation ordifferentiation of the police from society.43

Paradoxically, in this case, while a low degreeof professionalism opens the door to internalreform of the police, it later becomes an obsta-cle to implementing the new strategy. The sec-ond source of resistance is from society itselfand from conservative political leadership.Here, the perception that changes in the policehave contributed to improved crime control, asin the case of Colombia, is an all-importantcomponent of reform.

In some cases, resistance to reform has actu-ally led to attempts to reverse what has alreadybeen achieved. For example, some of the com-munity policing programmes in Brazil haveceased to function due to political changes thathave ushered in governors with hard-core, law-and-order stances who have little concern fordemocratic issues. This occurred recently inRio de Janeiro, and resulted in an increasednumber of civilians killed by the police.44

Something somewhat similar seems to havehappened in Buenos Aires.

Most recent reform programmes emphasisenew decentralised police management models.These incorporate comprehensive quality crite-ria, resulting in efforts to provide incentives forgreater flexibility in the police force, as well asfor promoting personal initiative rather thancompliance with a rigid set of rules. Influencedby experience at international level, policeforces are emphasising planning, as well as theestablishment of indicators to measure policeeffectiveness. Efforts in this respect are, how-ever, in the very initial stages.

Part of the reform process described aboveinvolves an ongoing dialogue with the commu-nity, including the need to involve the commu-nity in managing security policy. However,while such community participation is an inte-gral part of the reform process in some

instances, such as in São Paulo, it plays a moresecondary role in other situations, such asBuenos Aires, where the central emphasis wason dismantling the criminal networks within theprovincial police.

Finally, another element in the reformprocesses described above, particularly in thecase of Buenos Aires, is the incorporation ofnew institutions to ensure better internal andexternal monitoring of police activity. Whenreform also involves the implementation of acommunity policing programme, grassrootsorganisations are usually formed to monitor andevaluate police work.

In certain cases, the reform process is likelyto emphasise the restructuring of police admin-istration and management in response to theincreased fear of crime.This measure could bethe first step towards a more democraticapproach to policing. In other cases, the prima-ry emphasis will be on implementing a commu-nity policing strategy with broad societal partic-ipation. Thus, though the initial motivatingcrises have many common elements, the finalproduct of the reform will undoubtedly vary.There is also considerable risk that insurmount-able obstacles will be encountered in theprocess.

Police reform projects that are of a moredemocratic and less conventional nature willcertainly face significant difficulties. Worthy ofnote is the view of Sofía Tiscornia. She exam-ines existing differences between the prevailingsocial structure and cultural climate in LatinAmerica, and those that characterise theEnglish-speaking societies that are the sourceof the new public security paradigms discussedin this paper. According to Tiscornia, anti-authority actions and the impugning of theestablished order are more prevalent in LatinAmerican history than efforts to achieve therights needed to create a society of equals.45

This view sees minimal possibilities of gen-uine interaction between the police and the peo-ple. Furthermore, according to Tiscornia,democratic culture in the US is based on a soci-ety of equals, while Latin American societiesare hierarchical. The former seeks consensusthrough social participation, while in the latter,participation normally results in a struggleagainst oppression.46 Tiscornia’s conclusion istherefore that the cultural and social climatenecessary to produce participation and coopera-

161

Frühling

tion between the police and the community isabsent in Latin American cultures.

A notable imbalance in the representation ofdifferent social and political sectors on commu-nity councils and forums constitutes a majorproblem for programmes of this type. Thus, thecommunity councils that are viewed as havinghad the greatest success in the São Paulo pro-gramme, described above, are those in whichthe Brazilian business community participatesactively. However, it is the poorest and mostmarginalised sectors, which are not similarlyinvolved in the councils, that have the greatestpublic security needs.47

In addition, it is said that there are neighbour-hoods or districts where drug alliances, ratherthan a sense of community, prevail, since thedrug-trafficking gangs preserve the neighbour-hood’s security from the threat of externalcriminals.48

Finally, there is a common view that theprevalence of local inequalities, reinforced by asystem of political clients and bosses, isenhanced by systems in which the police, ratherthan answering to the law, answer to the prefer-ences of a community that lacks any genuineautonomy.

These foregoing observations are based onreal problems facing reform programmes, par-ticularly in South America. However, commu-nity policing in the US also has its problems. Astudy by the Vera Institute of Justice demon-strates that mobilising the community is some-times difficult, due, in part, to fear of reprisalsby criminals living in the area, as well as to his-torically poor relations with the police. Theseprogrammes also encounter resistance withinmany police departments, since the methods areviewed as overly lenient in dealing with crime.Furthermore, community work on the part ofthe police does not bring about a reduction inthe number of emergency calls that the police

receive. There is thus increased pressure onpolice resources.49

CONCLUSIONOne conclusion that can be drawn from the dis-cussions outlined above, is that transformationof the police service requires at least a minimumlevel of professionalism among police person-nel. Without this, grassroots work can ultimate-ly be counterproductive. Such professionalismcannot be replaced by mere community rela-tions, and it represents the only safeguardagainst the police being co-opted by local elites.

At the same time, many of the problems dis-cussed here are common to other public ser-vices, and extend beyond strictly police-relatedissues. Rather, they involve the quality of ademocratic system and must be dealt with bythe state, as well as by the police. It is the statethat must guarantee the police the resourcesnecessary to provide an equal service to the dif-ferent segments of society. It is also the state’sresponsibility to provide minimum training insecurity to those social sectors that work withthe police. Without these elements, a communi-ty–police relationship that operates on the basisof equality will remain no more than a dream.

The crisis facing Latin American policeforces is, indeed, serious. Current reforms andthose described here hold forth the prospect ofpolice management models that are more demo-cratic and more respectful of the rights of indi-viduals. This potential may, indeed, come tofruition. It may also fail if it does not succeed inproducing solid results within a given time peri-od. Proper monitoring of the process and carefuldocumentation of strategies that are followedcan provide a major contribution to futureexperiments. One thing is abundantly clear:what is needed is a dynamic that involves thegradual abandonment of the region’s traditionalparadigm for police organisation and activity.

162

Frühling

ENDNOTES

1) Bayley, David, 1993.2) Bayley, David, 1993:33 -36.3) Rico, José María, 1998: 173-187.4) Mingardi, 1996: 283; Zaffaroni,1993.5) Schmid: 301; Oliveira and Tiscornia, 1998.6) Costa, 1998.7) Frühling, 1998.8) Pinheiro, Paulo Sergio, 1998: 183 -187.9) The ACTIVA project of the Pan-American

Health Organisation found that those whoconsidered police efficiency poor or verypoor constituted 15.6% of the population inSantiago, 18.1% in San Salvador, 25.1% inCali, 27.6% in Caracas, and 28.7% in Riode Janeiro. An ADIMARK survey in Chilein 1996 showed high support for theGeneral Director of Carabineros and theDirector of the Investigatory Police in theirfight against crime, around 70%.

10) A recent survey by El Mercurio and 16other newspapers in Latin America and theUnited States (US) found that 81% of thosesurveyed in the US had high or some confi-dence in the police, while the percentage inChile was only 38%. In general, the aver-age confidence in the police in the 15 LatinAmerican countries involved was under28%. See “Espejo de las Américas”, in theEconomía y Negocios section of El

Mercurio, April 16, 1998, pp. 8 and 9. 11) Costa, 1995; Garst, 1997; National

Coalition for Haitian Rights, 1998; Neild,Rachel 1995; Serrano, Rosso José, 1997;Riedmann, Arnold, 1996.

12) Costa, Gino, 1994: 106-108.13) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo: 1998.14) Bayley, David H., 1985:7-14.15) The concept of majority public funding is

used because of the increase in sources andresources flowing from the private sectorto police forces. Examples are: contribu-tions from large companies for the con-struction of police headquarters, contract-ing of police as private guards by themunicipalities within the city of Lima(Carlos Rivera Paz, 1998: 6-7); and pay-ment for police guards at events such asconcerts and sporting events.

16) Bayley, H. David. 1985: 47-50.17) Goldstein, Herman, 1977; Bayley, David,

1994; Bayley, David H. and Clifford D.Shearing, 1996; European Forum forUrban Security, 1996.

18) Frühling, Hugo, 1998b.19) Stone, Christopher and Heather Ward,

1998: 2-5.20) Stone and Ward, 1998:4.21) Kravetz, Katharine, 1998; Lapkin, Gerald

S., 1998.22) Palmieri Gustavo: 329 -332.23) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo: 69-71.24) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo: 71 -74.25) Bayley, David H., 1994:85.26) Guerrero, Rodrigo, 1996: 7.27) Goldstein, Herman, 1977:274.28) Bratton, William with Peter Knobler, 1998:

224.29) Bayley, David H., 1994: 94-95.30) Saín, Marcelo, 1998: 70.31) Of particular interest for acquiring a more

thorough familiarity with the SecurityAdvocacy role are the texts headed “ElDefensor de Seguridad”, published inMilenio (summer 1998): 99-122.

32) LaFranchi, Howard, 1998.33) Policía Nacional: no date, 40-41.34) National Police no date: 16-17.35) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo: 22-23/36) Moore, 1992.37) Sherman, Lawrence, 1995: 339.38) Kelling, George L., 1988:3-439) Bayley, 1994: 105-120.40) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo, September 1998:

40-48.41) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo, September 1998:

66.42) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo, September 1998:

89.43) De Mesquita Neto, Paulo: 17 y 18.44) Cano, Ignacio, 1998.45) Tiscornia, Sofía, 1998.46) Tiscornia, Sofía, 1998.47) The Washington Office on Latin America,

1998:14.48) Botelho Junqueira Eliane and Jose Augusto

de Souza Rodriguez, 1993: 123-130;Frühling, Hugo, 1998 B:36.

49) Sadd, Susan and Randolph M. Grine, 1994:121-132.

163

Frühling

REFERENCES

ARSLANIÁN, C. L. 1998. El Informe Arslanián.Milenio, No 2: 62 - 75.

BAYLEY, D. H. 1985. Patterns of Policing. A

Comparative International Analysis, NewBrunswick: Rutgers University Press.

BAYLEY, D. H. 1993. What’s in a Uniform? AComparative View of Police-MilitaryRelations in Latin America. Unpublishedwork.

BAYLEY, D. H. 1994. Police for the Future.

New York: Oxford University Press.BAYLEY, D. H. AND SHEARING, C. D. 1996. The

Future of Policing. Law and Society Review

30:585-606.BITTNER, E. 1995. The Quasi-Military

Organisation of the Police. The Police &

Society. Touchstone Readings, Kappeler, V.E., editors. Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc.

BOTELHO JUNQUEIRA, E. AND DE SOUZA

RODRIGUEZ, J. A. 1993. Pasárgada Revisited:Policing Favelas in Brazil. Alternative

Policing Styles. Cross-Cultural Perspectives.

Findlay Mark and Ugljesa Zvekic, editors.Deventer: Kluwer Law and TaxationPublishers.

BRATTON, W. J. 1996. How to Win the WarAgainst Crime. The New York Times, April 5,1996, A27.

BRATTON, W. WITH KNOBLER, P. 1998.Turnaround.: How America’s Top Cop

Reversed the Crime Epidemic. New York:Random House.

COSTA, G. 1994. Cómo Encarar la ReformaPolicial. Ideele 71-72: 106-108, 1994.

COSTA, G. 1995. The United Nations andReform of the Police in El Salvador.International Peacekeeping 2,3 (Autumn),1995.

COSTA, G. 1998. La Propuesta de Nueva LeyOrgánica de Policía del Perú: Novedades yLimitaciones. Control Democrático del

Mantenimiento de la Seguridad Interior.

Frühling, H, editor. Santiago: Centro deEstudios del Desarrollo, 119-136.

DOZIGER R, S., EDITOR. 1996. The Real War on

Crime. New York: Harper Perennial.FRÜHLING, H. 1998. Policía y Consolidación

Democrática en Chile. Pena y Estado, No 3(1998): 81 - 116, 1998a.

FRÜHLING, H. 1998. Modernización de laPolicía. Presented to the Foro sobre

Convivencia Ciudadana, organised jointly bythe Government of El Salvador and the Inter-American Development Bank, 1998b.

FRÜHLING, H. AND SANDOVAL, L. 1997.Percepciones de Inseguridad y RealidadDelictual en Tres Comunas Populares deSantiago. Estudios Públicos 68 (Primavera) :253 - 306, 1997.

GARST, R. 1997. The New Guatemalan

National Civilian Police: A Problematic

Beginning. Washington: WOLA BriefingSeries.

GOBIERNO DE LA PROVINCIA DE BUENOS AIRES.1998. La Transformación del Sistema de

Seguridad.

GOLDSTEIN, H. 1977. Policing a Free Society.Cambridge: Ballinger Publishing Company.

GUERRERO, R. 1996. El Programa DESEPAZ,Un Esfuerzo Integral Para Combatir LaViolencia Urbana, En Cali, Colombia.

KELLING, G. L. 1988. Police and Communities:The Quiet Revolution. Perspectives on

Policing 1. National Institute of Justice andJohn F. Kennedy School of Government:Harvard University.

KELLING, G. L. AND WILSON, J. Q. 1982.Broken Windows: The Police andNeighbourhood Safety. Atlantic Monthly

(March): 249 , 1982.KRAVETZ, K. 1998. El Control a la Policía en

Estados Unidos Control Democrático del

Mantenimiento de la Seguridad Interior.Frühling, H. editor. Santiago: Centro deEstudios del Desarrollo.

LAFRANCHI, H. 1998. Latin Police can beReformed. Christian Science Monitor,September 28, 1998.

LAPKIN, G. S. 1998. A Globalised Approach toPublic Accountability: How Citizens canWatch the Watchmen. Presented at the con-ference Democracy and the Rule of Law:

Institutionalising Citizenship Rights in New

Democracies. McGill University.DE MESQUITA NETO, P. 1998. Policiamiento

Comunitario: A Experiencia en São Paulo.Nucleo de Estudos da Violencia da

Universidades de São Paulo. September1998.

MINGARDI, G. 1996. Corrupcao e Violencia naPolicia de São Paulo. Justicia en la Calle.Ensayos sobre la Policía en América Latina,

editor Waldmann, P. Medellín: BibliotecaJurídica Diké, 284 -299.

MINGARDI, G. 1998. Problemas da PoliciaBrasileira. O Caso Paulista. Pena y Estado

No 3: 143 - 153., 1998.MOORE, M. H. ,TROJANOWICZ, R. C. AND

KELLING, J. L. 1998. Crime and Policing.Perspectives on Policing 2. National Instituteof Justice, John F. Kennedy School ofGovernment, Harvard University.

MOORE, M. H. 1992. Problem-Solving andCommunity Policing. Modern Policing, ed.Tonry, M. H. and Morris, M. Vol. 15 deCrime and Justice: A Review of Research.Chicago: Chicago University Press.

NATIONAL COALITION FOR HAITIAN RIGHTS.1998. Can Haiti’s Police Reforms be

Sustained? Washington: Washington Officeon Latin America.

NEILD, R. 1995. Policing Haiti. Preliminary

Assessment of the New Civilian Security

Force. Washington: The Washington Officeon Latin America.

OLIVEIRA, A. AND TISCORNIA, S. 1998.Estructuras y Prácticas de las Policías en laArgentina. Las Redes de la Ilegalidad.Control Democrático del Mantenimiento de

la Seguridad Interior. Frühling, H. editor.Santiago: Centro de Estudios del Desarrollo,157-174 .

PALMIERI, F. G. 1998. Reflexiones yPerspectivas a Partir de la Reforma Policialen El Salvador. Pena y Estado No 3 : 313 -340., 1998.

PINHEIRO, P. S. 1998. Policia e ConsolidacaoDemocratica: O Caso Brasileiro. In PauloSergio Pinheiro et. al. São Paulo. Sem Medo.Rio de Janeiro: Garamond, 175 - 190., 1998.

POLICÍA NACIONAL. No date. TransformaciónCultural. La Fuerza del Cambio.

POOLEY, E. 1996. One Good Apple. Time

(January 15): 24-26.RICO, J. M. AND SALAS, L. 1998. Inseguridad

Ciudadana y Policía. Madrid: EditorialTecnos.

RICO, J. M. 1998. La Policía en AméricaLatina: Del Modelo Militarizado alComunitario. Pena y Estado No 3 : 173 -187.

RIEDMANN, A. 1996. La Reforma Policial enColombia. Justicia en la Calle. Ensayos

sobre la Policía en América Latina ed.Waldmann, P. Medellín: Biblioteca JurídicaDiké, 215 - 239.

RIVERA PAZ, C. 1998. Los Municipios y laSeguridad Ciudadana. La Institución delSerenazgo en Lima. Policía y Sociedad

Democrática Boletín No 2 : 6 - 7.SADD, S. AND GRINE, R. M. 1994. Issues in

Community Policing: Problems in the Imple-

mentation of Eight Innovative Neighbour-

hood-Oriented Policing Programmes. NewYork: Vera Institute of Justice.

SAÍN, M. 1998. Democracia, Seguridad Públicay Policía. CELS Documentos de Trabajo del

Seminario “Las Reformas Policales en

Argentina”.SANDOVAL, L. AND CAMUS, P. 1993. Prevención

de la Delincuencia a Nivel Local. Un EstudioPreliminar en la Comuna de Conchalí.Cuadernos del CED No 24.

SANJUÁN A. 1997. La Criminalidad en Caracas:Percepciones, Realidades Objetivas yPolíticas. Presented at the Conferencia orga-

nizada por el Banco Interamericano de

Desarrollo sobre “Crimen Urbano”, Río deJaneiro.

SANTOS ALVINS, T. 1998. Policía y Democraciaen Venezuela. Pena y Estado No 3: 199 -218.

SERRANO, R. J. 1997. La TransformaciónCultural en la Policía. Presented at the ForoInternacional de Gestión Pública, unpub-lished.

SHERMAN, L. W. 1995. The Police. Crime.

Wilson, J. Q. and Petersilia, J. editors. 327-348. San Francisco: Center for Self-Governance.

SCHMID, R. 1996. La Corrupción en la PolicíaPreventiva del Distrito Federal de México.Justicia en la Calle. Ensayos sobre la Policía

en América Latina ed. Waldmann, P.Medellín: Biblioteca Jurídica Diké, 301 -320.

STANLEY, W. 1996. Protectors or Perpetrators?

The Institutional Crisis of the Salvadoran

Civilian Police. Washington, D. C.: A JointReport of the Washington Office on LatinAmerica and Hemisphere Initiatives.

STONE, C. AND WARD, H. H. 1998. DemocraticPolicing: A Framework for Action, presentedat the seminar of the Vera Institute of Justiceand of the Ford Foundation, on DemocraticPolicing, March 23 and 24, 1998.

THE WASHINGTON OFFICE ON LATIN AMERICA.1995. Demilitarising Public Order. The

International Community, Police Reform and

164

Frühling

165

Frühling

Human Rights in Central America and Haiti.

Washington: The Washington Office onLatin America.

THE WASHINGTON OFFICE ON LATIN AMERICA.1998. Community Policing. Material to bepublished.

TISCORNIA, S. 1998. Seguridad y Comunidad.Documentos de Trabajo Seminario

Internacional sobre Seguridad Pública.Instituto de Política Criminal y SeguridadProvincia de Buenos Aires, November 17 and18, 1998.

WALDMANN, P. 1996. Introducción, Justicia en

la Calle. Ensayos sobre la Policía en

América Latina, ed. Waldmann, P. Medellín:Biblioteca Jurídica Diké.

WALKER, S.1989. Sense and Nonsense About

Crime. A Policy Guide. California:Brooks/Cole.

ZAFFARONI, E. R. 1993. Muertes Anunciadas.Bogotá: Editorial Temis.

INTRODUCTIONThe following four observations may help ifwe are to put the South African government’srecent shifting crime policies in context:

First, there is no single composite frameworkin terms of which South African policiesregarding crime have been constructed over thepast eight years. Crime control debates andpractices draw freely from different sets ofprinciples and a large pool of competing ideas.For example, in the case of young offenders weare implored to find ways of making peacebetween victims and offenders within the para-digm of restorative justice. In the case of sexoffenders, however, many argue in favour of amuch more punitive and segregative approachto “justice” for those who prey off the flesh ofwomen. In other quarters too we speak withforked tongues: calls for zero-tolerance andstate-driven saturation policing coexist withcalls for greater tolerance to others and self-help policing. We remain divided if not con-fused on matters such as the proper role of thestate vis-à-vis the central business of crimecontrol. We profess the necessity and desirabil-ity of partnerships only to reassert the sover-eignty of the state to deliver safety and securi-ty. In addition we subscribe to very differenttheories on crime causation. On the one hand,we talk of offenders as pitiful victims of mater-ial deprivation (caused by colonial conquestand white minority rule), but on the other handinsist that criminals are rational opportunistsskillful at exploiting the opportunities for ille-gal enterprise within a weak transitional state.Different causative models lead to competingcrime prevention policies too: we talk of the

need to invest in job creation (social recon-struction and development) as a more structuralapproach to the problem of crime, while at thesame time expanding and fine-tuning the leg-islative framework for asset forfeiture.

Governmental responses to crime thus followmany logics rather than one – a consequenceno doubt of our more recent appreciation thatcrime is truly a multifaceted phenomenon,rooted in different sets of causes and amenableto different strategies.

There is not much that is unique or homegrown about this eclecticism. The diversity,fragmentation, and even contradiction, whichcharacterise South African debates and strate-gies, are echoed in other countries. If esteemedinternational commentators are to be believed,this eclectic diversity is a common feature ofcrime control discourse and practice at theglobal level (Garland 2000).

The second point is that governmental poli-cies are currently devised in a very fluid con-text. The business of crime control takes placein a truly mixed economy in which three cen-tral actors participate: the state, the market andcommunity (civil society). There is at presentlittle clarity as to the contractual rules guidingsuch interrelationships. In part this is sobecause we have come to indulge in radicalquestioning of the role of the state at a both afactual basis and normative level: How effec-tive is the state in the business of safety andsecurity? How central should the state be? Howsuccessful can it realistically be expected tobe?

The third point to emphasise is that withinthe current era, crime policies are increasingly

167

Crime and its Discontent: Recent South African Responses and Policies

Elrena van der Spuy

168

Van der Spuy

being shaped by the rough and tumble of ahighly politicised public debate and not bysound criminal justice or criminological exper-tise. Crime and its control have become thebread and butter issues of competitive partypolitics. This reality has meant that governmentresponses are increasingly driven by populardemands. Although there are currently movesafoot in South Africa to expand the base ofcriminological research, such developmentshave to contend with increasingly vociferousdemands for “law and order” strategies.

The fourth point is that in transitional con-texts, a central institutional actor involved incrime control and prevention, the police, is theobject of considerable restructuring. Judging bySouth African experiences, transitional politicsand their demands for policies such as affirma-tive action severely affect the soul and psycheof the police institution. Post-authoritarianpolice agencies – and the South African PoliceService (SAPS) may be the leading example –suffer from a sense of political displacement,social bewilderment and rank-and-file demoral-isation. The social effects of this turmoil – in acontext where crime is increasing – are all toooften played down in analyses of the challengesfacing policing in a society such as our own.But it is a situation that is bound to affect,indeed often to dislocate, the intended form andcontent of governmental responses to crime.

With such introductory comments in mind,what can be described as the central features ofgovernmental responses to crime which havecome to characterise post-apartheid gover-nance? What constitute the main challengesfacing our society on this front?

1. TRANSITIONAL POLITICS AND INCREASES INCRIMEDiscussions on crime trends in transitional soci-eties are complicated by the fact that in suchsocieties the margin of error built into officialcrime statistics is much greater than in stabledemocratic societies. A degree of caution overand above the usual criminological scepticismregarding any official crime statistics is neces-sary. Having said that, however, official crimestatistics do have their uses. Comparativeanalysis suggests that in transitional contextsthe “equilibrium” rate of crime breaks downand that sharp increases in the rates of violentcriminality (to name but one “serious crime”

category) occur. A critical question in the cur-rent debate is whether despite very differentsocial settings, there are common causesfuelling patterns of violent criminality rates intransitional societies across the continents(Latin America, Eastern Europe, Africa).

2. GOVERNMENTAL RESPONSES TO CRIME2.1 Two-stage revolution: from nation

building to state building

It seems possible to identify two rather distinct,but overlapping, phases in the development ofrecent South African crime policies. Phase onestretches from 1994 to 1998. The spirit of thisperiod is exemplified in a key crime policy doc-ument – the National Crime PreventionStrategy (NCPS) of 1996. The second phase,which roughly coincides with the run-up to thesecond democratic elections, has had a moreintrospective and state-centred approach tocrime. Perhaps it is best described as the phaseof state building exemplified by the creation ofa specialist policing and prosecutorial unit, theDirectorate of Special Operations in 1999 underthe auspices of the National Directorate ofPublic Prosecutions – a unit commonly knownas the Scorpions.

Let me briefly try to discuss key features ofeach of these two phases, and outline some ofthe changes in the socio-political contextagainst which the shift from an inclusive to amore specialist approach to crime control hastaken place. The conclusion will attempt toidentify some challenges facing governmentalstrategies in the near future.

2.1.1 Phase one: the imperatives of nation

building: the NCPS, 1996

Much has been spoken about the form and con-tent, the rise and decline of the NCPS. There isno need to deliberate on points made in moresubstantive excursions elsewhere (Simpson &Rauch, 1999). It is fair to say that the NCPSwas the first official document of the newdemocracy that attempted to set radically newparameters for crime policy by creating a com-prehensive macro-strategy. Notable featureswere:• its insistence that crime was a truly social

issue rooted in the structural features of post-apartheid society

• that crime policy had to be embedded in amacro-developmental framework

169

Van der Spuy

• shifting the focus toward crime preventionand away from mere reactive crime control

• a demand for the inclusion of victims as aconstituency of importance

• its proposal for an inter-departmentalapproach to crime drawing on the expertiseof departments other than those of the crimi-nal justice sector, such as health, educationand social welfare in particular

• the active pursuit of alliances (or “partner-ships”) between the state and non-state agen-cies, intended to give further impetus to com-munity involvement in crime prevention

• the identification of seven national prioritycrimes: those involving firearms, organisedcrime, white-collar crime, gender violence,violence associated with inter-group conflict,vehicle theft and hijacking, and corruptionwithin the criminal justice system.

The NCPS became synonymous with the four-pillar approach to crime prevention whichrelied on a) a radical overhaul of systems with-in the CJ machinery, b) environmental design,c) public education, and d) attending to thegaps within which transnational crime wouldbreed.

Radical policy, however, provides few guar-antees for good practice. Sweeping as thestrategic framework of the NCPS may havebeen, two years after the unveiling of theNCPS, critics were quick to lament thatalthough the strategy was strong on policy, itwas dismally weak on implementation (Simp-son & Rauch 1999). It soon became clear thatthe faltering implementation of the NCPS wasnot an isolated problem besetting the criminaljustice system but rather a common ailment ofpolicy implementation besetting the public ser-vice as a whole. The findings of thePresidential Review Commission of 1998 sug-gested that across the entire public service, boldpolicy visions often faced faltering implemen-tation for a number of reasons: • limited managerial capacity• bureaucratic intransigence• weak information management systems• extreme difficulties of intersectoral coordina-

tion and establishing vertical authority• bad budgeting.

2.1.1.I CRITICAL REVIEW OF THE NCPSA review of the NCPS was undertaken in late1999 (NCPS Vol 1 No 1 June 2000). The

NCPS was renamed the National CrimePrevention Centre with interventions planned insupport of the programmes. This review wasinformed by the ideas encapsulated within the1998 White Paper on Safety and Security. Thelatter argued for a closer coordination of lawenforcement and crime prevention, an expan-sion of partnerships and moved toward a closerdefinition of the role of different tiers of gov-ernment in respect of crime prevention. Aprominent concern of the review was patternsof violent criminality and the need for concert-ed action on this front.

With hindsight it can be said that as a discur-sive framework and operational strategy, theNCPS has had some lasting influences. Five inparticular come to mind:

1. Coupling crime control and crime prevention

The NCPS has injected a degree of modernityinto our debates on policing and crime contain-ment. It is now generally acknowledged thatcrime control strategies need to be synchro-nised with crime prevention initiatives. In pub-lic discourse there is routine references to theneed for balancing crime control and crime pre-vention efforts and for developing both short-term and long-term strategies. For example, theneed for a “conceptual distinction” between lawenforcement and crime prevention (particularlysocial crime prevention) is embraced veryexplicitly within a key policing strategy – thePolicing Priorities and Objectives for1999/2000. The role of the SAPS is much moreclosely identified with law enforcement asopposed to social crime prevention. For purpos-es of effective law enforcement, the SAPS istasked to increase the effectiveness and effi-ciency of criminal investigations, invest in visi-ble policing and improve services to victims. Incontrast to the earlier period of police reform,by 1999 a much sharper delineation of the roleof the SAPS has developed with effectivepolicing in itself considered as one crucial vari-able in the broader crime prevention equation.In the process, the crime prevention function ofthe SAPS has been hived off elsewhere. In thisregard the creation of new structures such asthe NCPSC which is to exist parallel to theSAPS is an important development. TheNCPSC is charged with two functions in partic-ular: social crime prevention and achieving anintegrated justice system. The list of priorities

170

Van der Spuy

for policing remain long and arduous: firearms,criminal organisations, crime against womenand children, corruption within the SAPS,active visible policing, investigative services,victim empowerment, budget and resourcemanagement and professional conduct.

2. Interdepartmental cooperation and justice

clusters

The NCPS takes credit for advocating the prin-ciple of interdepartmental cooperation in theterrain of safety and security. While the princi-ple has become widely accepted, its institution-alising remains incomplete in part because thedifficulties of forging such a cooperation bothwithin the criminal justice sector and beyondwere underestimated. At the same time it is fairto say that considerable effort has gone into thecreation of structures and processes throughwhich interdepartmental cooperation on a widefront can be instilled. In the Western Cape, forexample, the MADAM structure very muchpersonifies the spirit of interdepartmental coop-eration around issues of safety and security,with observers often suggesting that its poten-tial still needs to be realised.

3. Crime and its complexity

The NCPS has been instrumental in spawning amuch more sophisticated debate on the com-plexity of the crime problem, the range ofcausative factors feeding into different crimesand the need for crime prevention strategies tai-lor-made to the specific crime. In addition, onehas seen a move towards identifying criticalcrime priorities and channelling resourcestoward them. Over the past four years the annu-al reports on policing priorities pay testimonyto this greater acceptance of setting prioritiesrather than attempting to do everything.

4. Base-line information and research

Effective policing everywhere depends on reli-able information. Good quality information isthe backbone of tactical, operational and strate-gic plans. On this score, the SAPS has been at aparticularly severe disadvantage. While thequest for solid crime information remainsbedevilled by many difficulties (for a frank dis-cussion see the introduction to quarterly CIACReports), various initiatives have been forth-coming. The installation of technological hard-ware and software has been one important stim-

ulus in the expansion of criminal justice infor-mation and research. The development of crimeforecasting methodologies, automated geo-cod-ing of crime scenes, multivariate analysis ofcrime patterns, and the development of geo-graphical information systems (GIS) undertak-en by the Centre for Scientific and IndustrialResearch (CSIR) through a series of pilot pro-jects are also worth mentioning. The CSIR iscurrently involved in the development of ana-lytical and statistical capacity for mappingcrime in certain pilot areas. In its pilot phase, ithas succeeded in mapping hijacking incidentsover a one-year period in two-hour slots, indays of the week, pin-mapping of hijack inci-dents, and undertaking hot-spot analysis ofhijacking incidents.

5. Fighting crime: state, market and active

citizens

The doctrine of active partnerships betweenstate, market and civil society was firstentrenched in the NCPS, further elaboratedwithin the White Paper on Safety and Securityand is now routinely espoused in political cir-cles. Strategic analysis and police plans makeregular reference to the desirability of suchpartnerships. Big business remains a criticalpartner in the state-market alliance. However,as for active community involvement, there ismuch variance across regions. Many analystsargue that the fervour for close community-police links has evaporated. It is probably fairto say that although there has been rhetoricalcommitment to the notion of partnerships(loosely defined and often ill understood) theirpractical institutionalisation has been difficult.Perhaps understandably so in a context wherethe constituency of active citizens is diverseand recalcitrant.

2.1.2 Phase two: The imperatives of state

building: making war on organised crime

While the NCPS dominated crime debates in1996, from 1998 onwards a shift in governmen-tal gear was evident as the project of policereform became redefined, from broad-basedlegitimacy to police effectiveness, and as a con-cern with making effective war on organisedcrime became more prominent.

By 1998 in a fast changing socio-politicallandscape, grand policy of the ilk of the NCPSwith its somewhat nebulous philosophical dis-

171

Van der Spuy

position no longer seemed so appropriate – nei-ther with politicians keen on dramatic actionnor with an increasingly sceptical public.Violent crime was commonly perceived as get-ting worse rather than better. Such perceptionswere combined with those of a state authorityeither unwilling to, or incapable of, acting oncrime. It created a momentum for community-based self-help initiatives (ad hoc or organised)which increasingly overstepped the politeboundaries of community policing defined indue process terms. While poor communitiesmade do with the ideas and tools they had attheir disposal, the discerning customers of mid-dle class communities turned towards the pri-vate security sector for what the public sectorcould not deliver. In both instances the statewas no longer considered a capable guardian ofsafety and security – a major source of vehe-ment criticism of the post-apartheid state and atthe same time a lucrative source of growth forthe private security sector.

From 1998 onwards there has been a changein gear and direction in state thinking. A con-certed attempt was made to reassert the pres-ence of the state and to clarify its role regardingsafety and security. The need for police effec-tiveness soon outstripped earlier talk of theneed for creating broad-based political legiti-macy. In commandeering the foot soldiers, thepolitical masters promised tough talk andtougher action. The by now familiar soundbiteof a tough talking Minister in June 1999 isworth mentioning:

“The criminals have obviously declared waragainst the South African public. What isrequired now is a ruthless implementationof the NCPS as a matter of urgency. We areready more than even before, not just tosend a message to the criminals out thereabout our intentions, but more importantlyto make them feel that the tyd vir speletjies

is nou verby. We are posed to rise withpower and vigour proportional to the enor-mity and vastness of the aim to be achieved.We dare not disappoint our people in thisregard.”1

Before long the style of the bullish Minister ofSafety and Security, Steve Tshwete, came topersonify the spirit of the new era: war oncrime and war on organised crime in particular.The tough talking was not merely of symbolicsignificance. A legislative and administrative

toughness soon made headway, as bail condi-tions were tightened, mandatory sentences pro-mulgated and the legislative framework for pre-venting organised crime developed (Van ZylSmit 1999). On the streets, the battle cries for“law and order” and “zero tolerance” gaveinspiration to clampdowns, saturation policingand blitzkrieg strategies in which areas weresealed off, people and property searched andhundreds of people detained – with so-called“illegal” immigrants often bearing the brunt ofthe crackdown.

On a policing front, Operation Crackdowndemonstrated the SAPS’s new crime combatingstrategy: a reliance on the geographical target-ing of high crime areas, and intelligence drivenpolicing efforts particularly focused on organ-ised crime syndicates – all of which are sup-posed to be backed up with medium-termsocio-economic development. Within the strat-egy, 140 hot spot areas have been identifiedthat need to be “stabilised” and public confi-dence in the criminal justice system improved.A critical review of the first experiments(March 2000) of Operation Crackdown on thestreets noted that it lasted a week, involved thedeployment of more than 1000 police and sol-diers, the setting up of 114 roadblocks, thesearching of 22 568 vehicles and 293 buildingsentered. Close to a quarter million people weresearched (Pelser 2000). Questions have alreadybeen asked about the knock-on effects of large-scale cordon and search operations executed atthe front of the criminal justice system. In addi-tion, questions about the sustainability – in botha financial and human sense – of such opera-tions have been raised. A more recent estimatehas suggested that by September 2000Operation Crackdown has already gobbled upall projected police personnel overtime costs setaside for the rest of the financial year.

3. MILITARISATION OF CRIME CONTROL IN THEMAKING?From 1998 onwards we have seen a certain mil-itarisation of crime control discourse. It is a dis-course that in the opinion of some stands insharp contrast to the social re-constructionstspirit that pervaded the NCPS in 1996. For oth-ers, the militarisation of crime control coexistsalongside the much softer talk about socialcrime prevention. Is there necessarily a contra-diction between the two? Or should we heed

172

Van der Spuy

the commentary of the American scholars,Kraska and Keppeler (1997), in whose view asymbiotic alliance of sorts exists? In the SouthAfrican context, and particularly in the WesternCape, concerns about public order and statesecurity have accentuated this militarisation ofcrime control discourse.

The imperatives for making war gainedmomentum as the spectre of organised crime onthe one hand, and urban terror on the other,developed in the Western Cape. Gang battleson the Cape Flats have for decades been pro-ducing their annual toll of dead and injuredbodies. Homicide rates in the Western Capehave traditionally been the highest in the coun-try. But the battle for turf between competinggangs cranked into higher gear as the opportu-nities for illicit enterprise and profit multipliedwith the advent of democratic rule, the openingup of borders, and the penetration of globalcrime networks into local soil. By late 1996, themobilisation of certain constituencies (such asPagad) against drug lords in particular added afurther complicating factor to the cyclical pat-terns of death and injury in gang controlledareas.

A low intensity conflict has developed in theWestern Cape over the past four years(1996–2000). In the early period it involveddrive-by shootings, pipe-bombs and assassina-tions between two protagonists: gangs andgangs on the one hand, and gangs and so-called“anti-crime groupings” on the other. At first thewar was pretty much contained in certain geo-graphical locations. But by late 1998 there wasa measure of displacement as conflict spiralledinto new areas and involved new targets: touristdestinations (the Waterfront), police stations,recreational spots (gay bars, shopping malls).As the pattern of conflict shifted into thegreater Cape Town area, a familiar concept wasplucked off the policing shelf and used todescribe the new policing environment: “urbanterror”. As allegations of a global conspiracyfor the establishment of an Islamic state gainedground, and G-force elements within Pagadwere thought to have gained the upper hand,the concept of urban terror was put to bothpolitical and operational uses. In short, theargument simply became that the policing ofurban terror (orchestrated by bands of militants)required special strategies, special laws andspecialist units. In provincial quarters the police

could claim that the challenges facing thepolice in the Western Cape were extraordinary– with unique situations requiring unique strate-gies. How then would the police machinerespond to the challenge and what can be saidabout the implications of such responses forpolicing more generally?

4. KEY DEVELOPMENTS REGARDING LEGISLATIVEFRAMEWORKS AND POLICING STRUCTURESSince 1994 we have seen the fine-tuning of thelegislative framework and administrative sys-tems to deal with public order, state securityand terrorism. (For a more detailed discussionof the arsenal of anti-terrorism legislation seeSchonteich 1999.) The National StrategicIntelligence Act created NICOC – a bodyintended to ensure the coordination of intelli-gence by SANDF, SAPS, NIA, NISS. TheOrganised Crime Act provided inter alia for thestate confiscation of personal assets merely sus-pected of having been obtained by illicit means.Finally, an Anti-Terrorism Bill is under consid-eration that would free police operatives fromthe burdensome constraint of constitutionalguarantees regarding habeas corpus.

The creation of specialist units to implementthis new legislative arsenal has followed. Thisfascination with such units is not a recent afflic-tion. There has been a long-standing, almostknee-jerk, reaction to crises in policing by cre-ating specialist units. However, by 1999 theconcept of specialisation was given more dra-matic meaning with the formation of an elitepolicing and prosecutorial unit, the Scorpions.

One special chapter in the South Africanmanual of making war on organised crime mustcontain a reference to the Scorpions. The for-mation of this elite crime-fighting unit (whichis “mean and lean”), has specific relevance.Based on the Troika principle, the Scorpions(formally the Directorate of SpecialOperations) combine the functions of intelli-gence, investigation and prosecution in one sin-gle unit. It is meant to boost infrastructuralcapacity to tackle serious crime, to dovetailinvestigation and prosecution on the groundand to allow for better coordination within thesecurity establishment. The unit is to consist oftwo specialised parts: an Investigations Unitand a Special Prosecutors Unit. A staggeredapproach to staff recruitment is to be followed.The remit of the Scorpions includes focusing

173

Van der Spuy

on serious cases of crime related to organisedcrime, terrorism, serious economic crime aswell as corruption in the criminal justice sys-tem.

But the creation of this new unit has notreceived universal acclaim. The concernsvoiced include:• a lack of clarity with regards to jurisdictional

authority between the Prosecuting Authorityand the SAPS

• the lack of overall confidence in the inves-tigative and prosecutorial abilities of the ordi-nary police and prosecutors that the creationof the Scorpions implies

• the possibility that the Scorpions become asource for further internecine rivalry andfragmentation. Already there are worries thatthe new unit will set off a competitive scram-ble for lucrative positions unequalled in theSAPS, contribute to a further depletion ofhuman resources amongst the SAPS rank andfile, and foster a sense of turf and territoriali-ty amongst non-Scorpion personnel

• a potential blurring of the boundariesbetween the investigative and prosecutorialfunctions

• the wide-ranging power of the unit as cur-rently anticipated may result in a dilution ofconstitutional principles.

On balance it would appear that the fortunes ofthe Scorpions are bound to affect, for better orfor worse, the larger institutional destiny ofpost-apartheid policing and with that, govern-mental responses to crime.

5. PROFILING ORGANISED CRIME AND PUBLICORDERThe concern with organised crime and publicdisorder was one prominent component that thenewly appointed National Commissioner JackieSelebi emphasised while announcing a consoli-dated three-year plan to combat crime in 1999.The plan presented the Justice Cluster’sresponse to President Mbeki’s State of theNation Address on 25 June 1999. The three-year crime-combating plan is designed toaddress the incidence of crime, public disorderand inefficiencies in the justice system(Schonteich 2000). Containing a mixture of oldideas and new initiatives, some of the strategicinterventions involve the following:• Social crime prevention, through particularly

poverty alleviation and urban renewal strate-

gies to be undertaken in a select number ofhigh crime areas.

• Prosecution-led and intelligence-driveninvestigations to be pursued by theDirectorate of Special Operations regardingpriority crimes and the improvement of intel-ligence gathering.

• A steering committee to improve co-ordina-tion with a view to greater service delivery.

• Expansion of sector partnerships particularlywith the private sector.

The plan entails a consolidated two-part strate-gy involving a geographical approach and anorganised crime strategy. The latter involvesthe targeting of organised crime groupings in amuch more consolidated and integrated fashionthrough the regrouping of specialist units.Detectives are to be brought under a singlecommand.2

CONCLUSION: FUTURE CHALLENGES Sensible governmental policies everywhererequire clarity about the normative frameworkfor crime prevention, sound administrativecapacity, reliable data about crime, and recep-tivity to criminological expertise. In all fourmatters the South African state has a severecapacity deficit. To be more specific:

Balancing crime control and crime preven-

tion: It is vital that we continue to engage criti-cally with the normative framework withinwhich governmental responses in the terrain ofcrime prevention and crime control aredesigned. Such an engagement is necessary inorder to balance the concerns of hard corepolicing (organised crime) and soft core polic-ing (routine policing).

Administrative capacity: Six years of transi-tional governance have made for more politicalrealism regarding the systemic constraints with-in which policies have to be devised. We havestopped thinking that the only problem is one ofattitude among Boerish state officials. Beyondthe surface of bureaucratic intransigence liemajor deficiencies of both a human and a phys-ical capital nature. Engaging with this capacitydeficit has become crucial. There are encourag-ing signs that a mood of administrative realismis developing. One crucial example is to befound in the sentencing framework which iscurrently being drafted under the auspices ofthe South African Law Commission. The draftframework insists that one crucial variable

174

Van der Spuy

which needs to inform sentencing practices isthe actual capacity of the criminal justice sys-tem to apprehend, convict and punish wrongdo-ers. The message is simple: government needsto think through the practical implications of itspolicy frameworks. Of course, administrativerealism could easily become an excuse fordiluting constitutional or due process princi-ples. However, there is surely nothing excep-tionable about insisting on the need to balanceissues of principles with capacity. Judging bythe zero-sum terms in which the protagonistsfrom the human rights lobby and law and orderlobby frame their positions, both need to movetowards a balanced position.

Crime statistics: Governmental strategiesremain bedevilled by the absence of reliablecrime statistics – that is, despite recent effort tooverhaul the data-gathering capacity from sta-tion level upwards. The debate on crime statis-tics has recently taken a dramatic turn with thedecision by the Minister of Safety and Securityto place a moratorium on the release of crimestatistics until such time that issues of reliabili-ty and validity have been resolved. The deci-sion has met with some outrage and much scep-ticism about the political interests to be servedby this decision. To many, the decision pro-

vides further proof of less rather than moretransparency in public sector governance. Themoratorium comes in the wake of an acrimo-nious debate between President Mbeki and var-ious women’s lobby groups as to the accuracyof the evidentiary base in terms of which rapeof women in South Africa can properly betermed an “epidemic.” The need for soundbase-line data on which policies can be basedcan only be reiterated.

Criminological expertise: The need for crimi-nological expertise to inform governmentalstrategies cannot be underestimated. Sound andrespectable research is not in abundance butthere is much potential at the local level to gen-erate the kind of criminal justice data on whichsound policies should depend. However, thereare at present questions to be posed about thereceptivity of the political masters, their opera-tional footsoldiers as well as the public to suchcriminological research and expertise. Muchlike in the days of old, the onus will be on thoseon the outside (tertiary based institutions, non-governmental organisations) to deliberatelyseek opportunities to get buy-in on the part ofboth government and the broader public, scepti-cal of yet more academic and “do-gooding”discourse.

1) Speech by the Minister of Safety andSecurity, Mr S Tshwete – ParliamentaryBriefing, 28 June 1999.

2) See discussions of the Security andConstitution Affairs Select Committee, 24May 2000.

ENDNOTES

175

Van der Spuy

CALLAND, R. & MASUKU, T. 2000. Tough onCrime and Strong on Human Rights: TheChallenge for Us All. Paper presented at theInternational Conference on Crime andHuman Rights co-hosted by the faculties ofLaw of the Universities of the Western Cape,South Africa and Ghent, Belgium, 28-29 July2000.

DEPARTMENT FOR SAFETY AND SECURITY, 1998.White Paper on Safety and Security: “In

Service of Safety,” 1999-2004. Pretoria.Department of Safety and Security.

GARLAND, D. 2000. The Culture of High CrimeSocieties: Some Preconditions of Recent“Law and Order” Politics British Journal of

Criminology, Vol 40(3), 347-375.JUSTICE AND CONSTITUTIONAL AFFAIRS

PORTFOLIO COMMITTEE, 2 September 2000.Directorate of Special Operational Bill:Hearings, 1-29.

KRASKA, P. & KAPPELER, V. 1997. MilitarisingAmerican Police: The Rise andNormalisation of Paramilitary Units Social

Problems, 44 (1) 1-17.SCHÖNTEICH, M. 2000. The Directorate of

Special Operations: Deadly Poison forCriminals? Crime & Conflict, No. 21, 19-23.

MINUTES OF THE SAFETY & SECURITY

PORTFOLIO COMMITTEE held on 1 March2000, Selebi and the Strategic Focus 2000-2003.

PELSER, E. 2000. Operation Crackdown: Thenew policing strategy Nedbank ISS Crime

Index, No. 2, 7-10.PRESIDENTIAL REVIEW COMMISSION, 1998.

Developing a culture of good governance.

Report of the Presidential ReviewCommission on the reform and the transfor-mation of the public service in South Africa.South Africa.

SAPS: POLICING PRIORITIES AND OBJECTIVES

FOR 1999/2000. Troika 1, 1-3.SECURITY AND CONSTITUTIONAL AFFAIRS

SELECT COMMITTEE, 24 March 2000. Safetyand Security & Justice: Replies to ProvincialConcerns, 1-10.

SIMPSON, G. & RAUCH, J. 1999. Reflections onthe National Crime Prevention Strategy inMaharaj, G. (ed) Between Unity and Diver-

sity. Cape Town: David Philip Publishers. NATIONAL CRIME PREVENTION STRATEGY BI-

ANNUAL NEWSLETTER, 2000 (June). Updateon the National Crime Prevention Strategy.

VAN ZYL SMIT, D. 1999. Tough justice: SouthAfrican style? Unpublished paper. Institute ofCriminology, University of Cape Town.

REFERENCES

INTRODUCTIONThe fall of the Soviet Union and the end ofcommunism in Eastern Europe has broughtwith it the criminogenic features of the marketeconomy, despite the obvious and numerousadvantages of a free market-based system ofeconomic organisation. At the same time, theaggravation of many criminogenic factorsformed in previous times is emphasised. Whendiscussing those factors of crime, processestaking place at an international level are alsoconsidered, as an increase in crime can beobserved in all post-communist countries. Thefact that those countries are becoming increas-ingly open to economic and tourist exchangesmakes it easier for international crime to comeinto existence and to expand. This is accompa-nied by the growing importance of problemsconnected with organised crime in many coun-tries with development market economy.

1. INEFFICIENCIES AND DELAYSThe considerable increase in both crime andthe number of criminal cases directed to thecourts is not accompanied by a proportionalrise in the funding of the police and the justicesystem. The level of state budget allocationsfor the combating of crime in its widest senseessentially remains fixed. This naturally pre-vents the police, prosecution services andcourts from working efficiently.

It is well-known that justice needs not onlyto be done (though here, too, as far as Poland isconcerned there are some question marks), butto be seen to be done: meanwhile, the averagelength of time that a criminal case spends in thecourts is constantly increasing, with the situa-

tion in the larger cities escalating to dramaticproportions. Even now – from preliminary pro-ceedings to the final non-appellable sentence –a case takes on average over one year; in largeurban areas, it can take several years. This con-tradicts the commendable idea of the “visibili-ty” of justice.

The increasingly extended period of proceed-ings is also a serious impediment to the possi-bility of proving an offender’s guilt, since eventhose witnesses with above-average recall ofevents cannot rely on their memory after a mat-ter of years. It therefore comes as no surprisethat delaying proceedings for as long as possi-ble is among the favourite tactics used by theaccused and their defence counsels.

Procedural delays are becoming the Achilles’heel of the Polish justice system and requireradical remedial action. The continuingincrease in the number of judges’ posts(demanded by judges themselves and theNational Judiciary Council) cannot, however,be the answer. Even now, Poland ranks amongthose European countries with the highest num-ber of judges. In only a few European countries(including Germany, Austria and Hungary) isthe number of judges comparable to Poland orslightly higher.

2. CHANGES AND NEW INSTITUTIONSWe now move on to discuss the changes andnew institutions in the penal code and the penalproceedings of 6 June 1997, which becamebinding law on 1 September 1998. The newpenal code introduced changes which providefor an efficient legal instrument in the fightagainst crime, including that of an organised

177

Government Responses and Policies:Poland as an Example

Emil Plywaczewski

178

Plywaczewski

nature. There is some, though limited, hope thatthe new codes will help shorten penal proce-dure: they provide for mediation, voluntarysubjection to penalty and other simplified pro-cedural paths. However, the main tasks toundertake if proceedings are to be speeded upare to increase judges and support staff (includ-ing raising their salaries and qualifications), toimprove the technical resources of the courtsand to make every effort to ensure that the par-ties involved conform to procedural discipline.

The new measures involve an extraordinarymitigation of punishment with regard to theperpetrators of crime who agree to cooperatewith investigative authorities and release infor-mation concerning persons participating in thecrime and related circumstances. In light of thenew legislation, perpetrators are deprived ofmaterial benefits directly or indirectly derivedfrom a crime. The property originating fromcrime is subject to obligatory forfeiture to thestate, unless returned to the victim or an autho-rised party.

It is expected that many provisions of the newcriminal legislation should effectively improvecrime fighting. For instance, the problem of wit-ness fear of revenge by criminals will beaddressed by introducing a new type of witness– the “incognito witness” – whose identity willbe secret and who will not testify at trials. Theonly way for defendants and their counsel to askquestions of such witnesses will be to use thecourt or the prosecutor as intermediaries.

According to some scholars, the situation ofcrime victims will also improve radically underthe new criminal legislation. The new PenalCode makes the severity of punishment depen-dent on, among others, the perpetrator’s attitudetoward his/her victim, including the issue ofwhether the offender repaired the damage. Newprovisions improving the victim’s position willmake the Polish code unique in its progressiveapproach.

The Immunity Witness Act of 1997 is thefirst legal act which contains procedural regula-tions solely for the purpose of prosecutingorganised crime. The above regulations and theextended principles of extraordinary mitigationof punishment under the new penal code havebeen designed to weaken the solidarity and effi-ciency of criminal groups. The Act also facili-tates the acquisition of key evidence in penalproceedings.

Regulations on the protection of confidentialbank data are being gradually developed. Underthe Banking Act of 1997, implemented on 1January 1998, information containing confiden-tial banking data can be released to the prosecu-tor before investigative proceedings in theevent of a justified suspicion of money launder-ing activity.

New legislative regulations facilitate theactivity of investigative authorities responsiblefor prosecuting certain types of crime and tofurnish them with new detection instruments.This in particular applies to controlled purchas-es, secretly monitored deliveries, and accep-tance or handing out of material benefits.

The changes in the structure and form ofcriminal activity led to changes in the operatingprinciples of investigative authorities, mainlythe police and the prosecutor’s office. Separateunits for fighting organised crime have beencreated. The Organised Crime Bureau wasformed in the Ministry of Justice in 1996 aspart of the National Prosecutor’s Office tocoordinate the prosecutor’s office’s activitieswith the operations of national security agen-cies and other investigative authorities. Theabove measures were adopted to fight organ-ised crime even more efficiently.

The spreading of crime, including its organ-ised forms, prompted the authorities to improvethe safety of crime victims and to develop theVictims’ Charter of Rights. The charter lists therights available to crime victims, includingclear instructions as to what assistance the vic-tims are entitled. The main goal of this measureis to ensure that the victims’ rights are executedin practice.

In my opinion, some time will still have topass before one can assess to what extent thenew provisions really work in practice. In themeantime, the current assessment is that forseveral years now, the Polish justice system hasfaced a very difficult situation of personnelshortages and rising organisational and finan-cial problems. Prosecutors and courts findthemselves under the burden of impossiblecaseloads, while backlogged cases keep pilingup. The number of prisoners behind bars and injuvenile detention centres is also rising. The sit-uation demonstrates that the system is in deepcrisis and immediate action is required. But thecurrent legal framework, personnel shortages,the state’s financial situation and the lack of

179

Plywaczewski

modern technical equipment, all compound thecrisis.

We must also keep in mind that in manycases, the justice system needs more than justmoney. Increasing the number judges is there-fore neither the only nor the best method foralleviating the backlogs in Polish courts.

CONCLUSIONThe outlook for the future remains gloomy.

There is no other choice, however, but toremain hopeful that somehow at least the worstsymptoms of the crisis will be addressed gradu-ally.

There certainly seems to be enough aware-ness and goodwill to initiate the process of get-ting back to normalcy. The problem is how tosecure enough finances, infrastructure andorganisational change to transform this good-will into concrete results.

INTRODUCTIONThis paper will address city security and crimein Peru, and will be divided into two sections:first, it will discuss definitions, principles andunderstandings of city security; second, it willdiscuss crime and how criminality develops inemerging nations such as Peru.

More than 2000 years ago, the philosopherSocrates stated: “If you do something wrong, itis because you don’t know that you are doingwrong.” In Peru we add: “... you do it becauseyou are immersed in the obscurity of igno-rance”. We can therefore say that social prob-lems are caused by a lack of education or train-ing in which ethics are found. Everything inlife can change, other than ethics.

1. A BRIEF HISTORY OF SECURITYSecurity has always been one of humanity’smain concerns. This dates back to the timeswhen man started living in communities, andsharing with other human beings. More specifi-cally, security concerns arose with the conceptof property ownership.

Social problems appeared due to excessiveeagerness for property or for profit – mine,yours or ours. At this stage, ambitions devel-oped in human beings and agreements weretherefore hardly reached in a civilised mannerby the parties.

The meaning of property started when manarrived at the end of the nomadic stage andbegan practising a more sedentary lifestyle,occupying stables or fixed spaces within a tribe– a space that had to be respected by othermembers and tribes. Agreements were notalways followed, giving way to crime, which

forced people to take some protection to avoidfuture property violations.

When we refer to small communities whereall people knew each other, security measureswere simple; not as complex as today whererules govern thousands of inhabitants within acommunity. As the world progressed andbecame more complex, man’s threats and,therefore needs, increased. This brought upsecurity as a principle. The human being wasgranted the highest value, as established in thefirst chapter of all constitutions throughout theworld. So, in 1960, the principle of world secu-rity became predominant, while facing up tothe threat of a nuclear war. Later, in the 1970sand 1980s, threats arose from local enemies,such as terrorists and drug traffickers. The ideaof national security brought up a principle thatwas understood before in terms of national ter-ritorial defence and threats to the external andinternal security.

2. CITY SECURITYIn the 1990s, the idea of city security started inthe emerging countries. The concept originatedin Spain and was adopted by almost all LatinAmerican countries and the United Nations(UN) through its regional body known as Ilpes-Cepal. In 1997, the first Latin American CitySecurity Projects Assessment and Preparationcourse took place in Chile, which was attendedby two members of the Peruvian Institute ofCriminology, which I represent. We wereexposed to several definitions on the subject,but we believe that the closest definition to ourreality is as follows:

City security can be understood as the con-

181

City Security and Crime in Peru

Cesar Benavides

182

Benavides

cern about quality of life and human dignity interms of freedom, access to the market andsocial opportunities shared by all individualswithin a social environment, defined by the ter-ritory of a country. Security is the support ofdemocracy.

Certain basic security risks, such as nuclearwar, have been minimised due to globalisationand the business mergers of large multinationalgroups. There are, however, serious threats tohuman security. Some of these include insecu-rity regarding:• the economy• employment • food • health • personal (against felony) • political and legal uncertainty. We therefore believe that city security hasturned into national security, because a nationwith good prospects for city security, reflects agood economy where society develops basedon proper education and training guidelines.Based on security, capitalists invest not only inequity terms but also in social terms, becausewe have to care more for human capital thanfor corporate assets.

3. CRIMINALITYWe will now focus on the negative impactcaused by felonies combined with violence,particularly violent crime. We have only men-tioned two causes of felony: education and eco-nomic poverty. There is a third and remarkableone – the reason why an individual withoutmental disturbances commits a felony: self-esteem. We know that the causes of crime aremany. In order to face and analyse it, a multi-disciplinary team is required. We believe thatnobody in Peru has ever conducted a seriouscontextual study of crime.

At the first Latin American conference oncity security, participants from 10 differentLatin American countries agreed that violencewould worsen after 2000, especially kidnap-ping, terrorism and drug trafficking crimes, as aresult of greater socio-economic differencesbetween rich and poor countries. The highregional crime rate reflects this situation.

In Peru and other countries, a violent socialenvironment is evident. Due to a “political ini-tiative of protest”, six private security guards ofthe Banco de la Nacioon died. A fire was

caused, in which people were injured, valuabledocuments were lost and large-scale damage topublic property was caused. Several suspiciouspeople were arrested. This happened on thesame day as Peruvian President, AlbertoFujimori’s, re-election to office. This newsspread all over the world and affected Peru’sIndependence Day celebrations. Due to the cur-rent government’s discredit, we think that theopposition party will not believe the results ofthe investigation.

At the beginning of 1999, a group of 33 pro-fessionals carried out a national survey in orderto determine the insecurity level in Peru. It wasfound that 10 out of seven people had been vic-tims of crime. In June 1998, the national surveycarried out on 999 families ended. It was re-vealed that Peru had almost 1000 gang organi-sations. In the district of San Juan de Lurigan-cho alone, there were more than 100 suchorganisations.

Peru has between 20 000 and 30 000 gangmembers, each gang consisting of 15 to 30members whose ages vary from 10 to 24. Thesefigures might have dropped due to governmentrepression.

We believe that the reason behind theincrease in gangs and crime is the lack oforganisation among local governments ormunicipalities and the national police force.There is also a lack of leadership which couldsolve this conflict situation.

Corruption in public administration hasbecome a public institution. Almost everynational institution charges extra to deal witheven the most basic tasks or requests.

International financial organisations, such asthe World Bank and the International MonetaryFund, gear the so-called poor nations by meansof loans where expenses are commensurate.There is a lack of monitoring on the perfor-mance of works to avoid the appropriation fromthe borrower state. With these examples ofimpunity against felony commission, how canwe ask for morality and honesty from hungrypeople?

CONCLUSIONWe can draw the following conclusions fromthe above synopsis:• Citizen’s safety is understood as a concern

for quality of life and human dignity wherethe aspects that most affect it are poverty,

183

Benavides

lack of education and self-esteem.• If we wish to reduce gangs and create a better

society we need to emphasise morality. Thecountry’s structures should change, begin-ning at the upper hierarchical levels as wellas changing the school system. Youths mustbe taught values and there is need for leadersto set good examples.

• Peru’s judiciary system (judges, prosecutorsand police) lacks credibility because its com-petency is doubted and because much abuseis committed in the name of justice.

• Peruvian society has experienced a tremen-dous dehumanisation where hardly a service

is provided free because of rampant briberyand corruption.

• More developed nations, transnational corpo-rations and international organisations, whilebeing related, should condone as much aspossible Peruvian and Andean countries’indebtedness, because they will always livewith the menace of growing domestic andinternational terrorism.

• During the past 20 years, Peruvian societyhas been ruled by a political power that is notresponding to the needs of the population.Above all, those involved in political corrup-tion seem to go unpunished.

INTRODUCTIONOver the past ten years South Africa has under-gone rapid and acute social change which hasbeen matched by an apparent upsurge in crime,and in particular violent crime. This period oftransition has also seen the South AfricanPolice Service (SAPS) embark on a transfor-mation process intended to facilitate changefrom a “force” dedicated to the enforcement ofapartheid to a more people-orientated “ser-vice”.

This transformation process has not beenwithout problems and has occurred in a contextwhere public perceptions and relations with thepolice were severely tarnished by their use asenforcers of apartheid policy.

This poor public image, coupled withincreasingly poor service, has resulted in a situ-ation in which it became “increasingly accept-able to blame crime and violence on the police,rather than adopting a broader understanding ofthe whole problem”.1 This has had, and contin-ues to have, dire societal consequences in theform of private militias, a proliferation of pri-vate security companies who now outnumberpolice by nearly four to one, vigilantism, kan-garoo courts and the use of violence as a prob-lem-solving mechanism.

The number of unemployed and unacknowl-edged ex-combatants who where never assimi-lated into formal structures at the end of thestruggle, contributed to the types of crime andthe use of force as demonstrated by the mili-tary-style bank heists experienced through1996 and 1997.

The problem of ex-combatants appears to bea common one as recommendations to the

United Nations (UN) in 1998 based on researchin El Salvador suggests:

“One should not underestimate the likelyextent of crime, especially organised crimethat can develop during a transition to newpolice institutions, especially in countriesthat have experienced prolonged civil con-flict and a tradition of impunity ... estimatesshould take in to account the demobilisationof large numbers of former combatantsfrom both sides, lack of employment andpervasiveness of military arms.”2

In fact South Africa remains one of the mostheavily armed countries in the world with justlicenced firearms making up an estimated 4.2million for a population of 42 million.

Coupled with these problems are other fac-tors. It has been argued that the relaxation inborder controls have contributed to the increasein crime, and that this has had an especiallydevastating effect on the South African econo-my, undermining many well-intended policies.Lax border control has been accompanied bymany problems, including illegal border cross-ings and immigration, a rise in corruptionamong border officials, increases in diseaseowing to fewer health inspections, tax evasiondue to smuggling, the illegal movement ofendangered species, and syndicates movingcontraband and smuggled goods in both direc-tions. Both SAPS and Home Affairs arguedthat this had an impact on crime in SouthAfrica, and the Minister of Home Affairs sug-gested repeatedly that South Africa was losingbillions of rands in revenue that could alleviatepoverty and build prosperity.3

The long-term impact of all of these factors

185

Government Responses in South Africa:Policy and Implementation

Iole Matthews

186

Matthews

has been a downward spiral. Societal attitude isone of “no faith in the police”, coupled with aloss of faith in the justice system. Crime, andthe fear of crime, has become a serious concernof many South Africans. In 1998 and 1999,crime emerged as the major factor fuelling emi-gration decisions, with 62% of respondents in arecent survey citing crime as the issue thatwould push them to consider emigrating in thefuture.4

It is within this context that the South Africangovernment had to develop and implementcrime prevention policy and provide a responseto its citizens. In examining governmentresponse and policy one needs to examine twotime frames, the period prior to 1998 and theperiod 1999/2000. During this former period,policy was developed and police transformationwas a priority. In the latter period, the govern-ment has come under increasing pressure todeliver on the policy and for the SAPS, servicebecame an increasing priority. The response ofgovernment has changed considerably over thattime, no doubt due to both a changing externalenvironment and internal changes of personnel.

1. THE PERIOD 1993 TO 1998In the post-1994 period, the South African gov-ernment, drawing on its traditional intellectualpower base within non-governmental organisa-tions (NGOs), trade unions and universities,produced consistently excellent and visionarypolicy, the failure of which can be attributed inpart to the over-investment of the state in thepolitical symbolism of policy rather than itspractical implementation. While it is appropri-ate for social policy to carry a broader symbolicsignificance than its simple technocratic ends –indeed all states use policy for purposes oflegitimisation – problems occur when policy isdriven more by political imperatives rather thanpractical considerations. In South Africa thereis a tendency to believe that the mere promul-gation of policy constitutes changes.5

The White Paper on Safety and Security andthe National Crime Prevention Strategy(NCPS) are key examples of the kind of vision-ary policies which have proved to be extremelydifficult to implement. These policies demon-strate government’s understanding of crimeprevention as a long-term social developmentissue requiring the participation of multiple roleplayers as well as tight interdepartmental coor-

dination and cooperation. However, they arealmost impossible to implement without a wellfunctioning state bureaucracy, which not onlyunderstands the objectives of the policy but iscommitted to achieving them.

As early as 1996, there were warnings of thepotential problems this ambitious strategyposed for a new government within a transi-tional environment. Graeme Simpson notedthat:

“In demanding the establishment of pro-grammes and policies which cut across vari-ous government departments (and whichtherefore demand a degree of horizontalaccountability between these departments),this approach ignores the extent to which anew political leadership is actually strug-gling to assert vertical lines of accountabili-ty within individual departments andbureaucracies which were inherited fromthe former government.”

Once a policy exists, an administrative struc-ture which constantly develops and enforcesthat policy, both horizontally and vertically,throughout the various departments must be putin place. In the case of many departments, amajor hindrance was the creation of policywithout the internal structures and mechanismsto support and ensure its implementation – bud-gets did not reflect policy objectives, there wasan absence of training to ensure the develop-ment of new and appropriate skills, informationwas poorly disseminated and vertical account-ability was non-existent.

Apart from the necessary administrativestructures needed, the NCPS is exactly the kindof ambitious policy which also requires adetailed programme of implementation in orderfor it to be successful. Clear action plans, timeframes, monitoring mechanisms and criteria forevaluation were sometimes lacking and, wherethey existed, they were seldom adhered to orenforced. This meant there was no way toensure the cooperation and coordinationbetween government departments that was nec-essary. The lack of a detailed strategy forimplementation also ignored the inevitablepower plays and jockeying for position thatoccurs within these departments; issues whichare particularly prevalent during transformationprocesses.

Over much of the four years following theelections, the government has appeared to be

187

Matthews

unable to provide, or support, any of the condi-tions necessary for real change to occur. Whatthis may reflects on, is often the sheer size andcomplexity of the task, rather than the will tosucceed, or lack of it. Nevertheless, the lack ofclear decisive leadership and well formedhuman resource management policy and mech-anisms within departments had a particularlynegative effect and created a space in which thefocus of many individuals was on self interest,rather than service delivery .

Many of the departments expected to con-tribute to crime prevention initiatives werethemselves in states of flux and transition,which created additional problems. This wasespecially true within the SAPS; one of the keydepartments targeted for massive transforma-tion. Organisations throughout the world under-go major transformations in response to theexternal environment and there are known toolsand techniques for handling these processes.However, due to political pressure, internalconflicts and unrealistic expectations, theprocess was not handled as effectively as itmight have been.

International research from as early as 19836

determined key factors that hinder organisa-tional change processes, of which the top sixare: fear (both of the unknown and of failure inthe new system); lack of trust; loss of status orsecurity; disruption of cultural traditions; inter-organisational disagreements or personalityconflicts; and poor reward systems.

The change process in the SAPS exacerbatedall of these factors, contributing to the difficultyin achieving any measurable outputs. TheSAPS, with its tendency to manage “paper”more effectively than “people”, was unable toeffectively manage the “human” side of thetransformation. The resultant loss of morale,decrease in performance and increase in stressamong members has had dire long-term conse-quences. The most visible changes such as newuniforms and new symbols not only encouragedinternal resistance, they also failed to convinceanyone on the outside that real change hadoccurred.

The entire change process was marked byconflict both internally and externally, asdemonstrated by the inability of CommissionerGeorge Fivaz and the Minister for Safety andSecurity, Sydney Mufumadi, to work together,by constant tensions between the police and the

civilian oversight bodies, by frequent accusa-tions of racial bias, and by difficulties in inte-grating members from the 11 different services.This was compounded by the lack of a clearlydefined, well-communicated strategy andstrong decisive leadership. Members could notcommit to a vision they could not see. It is easyto criticise with hindsight, yet it is worth notingthat while “there was no change managementprocess to let police know what in the old order(actions and attitudes) needed to be left behind,and which attitudes and actions need to be cele-brated and taken forward”,7 today there is stillno clear reward for “good” behaviour andequally no real punitive action against “bad”.

Station management continues to be unclearabout the behaviour expected from them, withno job descriptions and no clear performanceobjectives. The new Labour Relations Actwhich was intended to “advance economicdevelopment, social justice, labour peace anddemocratisation of the workplace” has also hadan unintentionally negative effect. Managementare poorly informed about the details of theAct, believing that it prevents them from deal-ing with insubordinate staff. At station leveland above, misconduct is often ignored andcorruption tends to be dealt with only throughprosecution rather than through better manage-ment. Managers almost never act, even againstsubstantial transgressions. This sends out aclear message that wrongdoing is not punished,which fosters a culture of impunity.

These problems must rest squarely on thegovernment’s inability to establish effectivesystems of human resource management withindepartments. Within the SAPS, this failure hasbeen blamed on lack of resources and limitedmanagement skills among members, alternatedwith promises that everything is about tochange with the introduction of “this” or “that”new programme. While resources are undoubt-edly a problem, many of the initiatives taken toimprove police management have also beenpoorly thought out and reflect a “knee jerk”reaction, rather than a clear strategy defined inresponse to an accurately identified need.

Similarly, human resource management lackscoherence and integration. It has been notedthat:

“The continuing lack of a coherent and inte-grated training, deployment, development,and succession strategy geared towards

188

Matthews

enhancing local service delivery meansthere is no systemic incentive for rewardinginnovative or effective practice at the locallevel.”8

While attempts have been made to integrate thevarious human resource management compo-nents, in real terms training operates in virtualisolation from career planning and personnelservices. Human resource management is fur-ther hindered by the vertical lines of commandwhich see every decision centralised at nationallevel and limited horizontal communication atprovincial level. Once again the structure isoften the problem rather than the people.

2. GOVERNMENT RESPONSE POST-1998During the past few years we have seen amarked retreat from many of the principleswhich underpinned the government’s early pol-icy, with talk of development and human rightsbeing replaced with the rhetoric of action. Thegovernment has declared its commitment to“hitting criminals where it hurts” and warnsthat “there will be no place to hide. We willgive you hell”. The focus of crime prevention isentirely on police performance, often backed upby statistics that are openly acknowledged asbeing inaccurate and which are now classified.Meanwhile, there is less talk, if any, of socialcrime prevention, job creation or education pro-grammes for the youth.

These are concerns that seem to have fallenback into the arena of civil society and NGOs.

At ground level there is still no sense of coor-dination and there is a limited understanding ofthe possible roles to be played by variousdepartments in terms of crime prevention. Thegovernment’s response has been to encouragelocal level crime prevention initiatives such asthe Safer City projects in Durban, Cape Townand Pretoria. However, local government’smandate to coordinate crime prevention initia-tives is hampered by its lack of control of anyprovincial departments and the centralisedbureaucracy of the police. Government seemsto be in the double bind of wanting to keep con-trol while simultaneously avoiding responsibili-ty .

The reductionist blaming of the police iscompounded by the media, which tends tofocus exclusively on the police when reportingon crime. Headlines talk about “police opera-tions bearing fruit”, “police give themselves

three years to succeed in combating crime” andstatements such as “fighting crime remains thesingle most important hurdle that government –through the SAPS – must overcome”. This rein-forces the belief that police are solely responsi-ble for the reduction of crime – despite globalacknowledgement that the police alone cannotstop crime, especially in the longer term.

Four years after the NCPS’s inauguration, thegovernment has still been unable to demon-strate any measurable coordination betweendepartments in terms of crime prevention, espe-cially at provincial level. In KwaZulu-Natal, aswell as in many other provinces, the relation-ship between justice and police at regional andarea level is non-functional at best, and oftenadversarial.

In the much-hyped Victim EmpowermentProgramme, the police, once again, take mostof the initiatives and most of the blame. TheWelfare Department, which has responsibilityfor Victim Empowerment, has often beenunable to spend its allocated budgets. Early thisyear, research found a direct link between ageand crime with 2283 out of every 100 000 menbetween the ages of 18 and 20 being convictedof committing a crime – a figure almost doublethat of older offenders. Crime prevention pro-jects aimed at reducing the risk for youthoffenders are urgently needed and yet theDepartment of Education – which might becentral to this initiative – is visibly absent, withsenior officials stating that crime prevention inschools is the responsibility of the police. Andso, despite the impressive policy displayedwithin the NCPS, the government is still failingto tackle crime holistically within the frame-work of social crime prevention.

The current response of national governmentto crime in terms of policing is around two sep-arate mechanisms – the SAPS’s “geographicalstrategy”, whereby large numbers of police aredirected to high crime areas for anti-crimeoperations, and the creation and use of eliteunits such as the Scorpions.

“Operation Crackdown” – an example of thestrategy of “geographical targeting” – has beencelebrated as being responsible for high arrestfigures, said to clearly demonstrate the impacton crime. This follows the trend of previous“crime blitzes” such as the “Sword and Shield”anti-crime campaign in 1996/97, which appar-ently saw the arrest of more than 300 000 sus-

189

Matthews

pects. However, high arrest rates also com-pound the chaos in prisons, which currentlyhave an average occupation rate of 163% (andhigher with some, such as Westville, having anrate of 211%). Awaiting trial prisoners make up36% of these numbers and unless the backlogsin the Justice Department are dealt with, thewhole exercise is pointless in the longer term.Equally important is whether the high arrestrates are then translated into high prosecutionrates.

While one applauds the government’sattempts to respond to crime in a very visiblemanner, it is arguable whether these operationscan have an impact on crime in anything otherthan the short term. Policing based on short-term, large-scale operations that draw membersaway from their stations and can displace crimeto other areas, also ignores the needs of ordi-nary people who want an accessible localpolice station that provides a competent andeffective service, with members who can, andwant to, do their jobs.

One must also question government’s com-mitment to station level policing when one seesthe conditions in which much policing is takingplace. In Inanda, north of Durban, a station of164 members has three satellite stations, andserves a predominately “black” 882 km² peri-urban area which includes 17 informal settle-ments. A baseline assessment by the IPT9

found Inanda to be 58% understaffed accordingto SAPS Management Services. Presently,there is one police member for every 5182 peo-ple. The brutal truth is that many disadvantagedcommunities have traded repressive policingfor no policing.

The second mechanism currently being givenpriority by national government is theScorpions. While no one would argue that theScorpions are a valuable addition in respect ofserious and organised crime, it is important thatthey are seen as an addition to, rather than asubstitute for, sustained and effective policingat station level. With South Africa’s high rateof social fabric crime such as rape, family mur-der and domestic abuse, it is vital we do notmove further away from the fundamentals ofsocial crime prevention.

The Scorpions, with their questionable reachof power and their establishment outside of thesystem, could also pave the way for an unfortu-nate swing to the secrecy and lack of account-ability of the past. The Justice andConstitutional Development Portfolio Com-mittee have already raised questions about theirlegitimacy in terms of our constitution. Despitethese concerns, the public, with its cries formore aggressive policing and the death penalty,appears to be more than ready for old-stylepolicing. However, we have seen the results ofrepressive policing and might want to thinkawhile before following that route again.

Finally, there remains a massive disjuncturebetween what is said at national level and whathappens at the local level. Policy and strategyare essentially generated in Gauteng and thereis little cognisance taken of the environment inwhich these will finally have to be implement-ed. The documentation that filters down to theground often makes little sense in an under-resourced rural station in rural KwaZulu-Natal.The continuing misapprehension that issuing astanding order or instruction at national level isenough to ensure its application, is still a sourceof frustration.

CONCLUSIONThe refrain from officialdom is always thatthey are on top of things and that statisticsshow they are gaining the upper hand in thefight against crime. However, real success willonly be achieved when it is the citizens them-selves who say things have improved. Until thattime the perception will continue, with theinevitable negative repercussions that SouthAfrica is an unsafe country in which to live.

If we seriously intend to fight crime we willhave to do it on the ground. This will requirethe devolution of power and budgets to areaand station level. It will require that membersare held accountable for their actions and thatnon-performing members are released from theservice. It will also mean that national govern-ment enforces and supports its own policy –policy that could be considered as some of themost impressive and visionary in world. Ratherthan changing it, we should now implement it.

190

Matthews

1) Robin Lee and Judy Kilpin, Faculty ofManagement, University of Witwatersrand,Crime and Conflict No 8 Summer 1997.

2) Stanley, W. and Loosle, R. El Salvador:

The Civilian Component of Peace

Operations, Institute for National StrategicStudies 1998.

3) Griggs, R., Overview of South African

Borders, Idasa, 1999.4) Bennett J., Crime still rattles SA’s skilled,

Sunday Times Business Section, 12 March2000.

5) Jansen J. C., Why Education Policies Fail,Indicator SA 1998 Vol 15 No1.

6) Carson T. C., Organisational Change and

Strategies for Turbulent Environments

www.dcpress.comlpage21.htm7) Scharf W., Police Transformation in South

Africa – What not to do. Presentation atQueens University, Belfast, NI 1999

8) Pelser, E., Can the community police forawork – revisiting a key policing strategy,Crime and Conflict No 18, 1999.

9) Griggs R., An evaluation of the VictimEmpowerment Programme in six stations ofthe SAPS, IPT, June 2000.

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTION: HISTORICAL AND POLITICALCONSIDERATIONSThe relationship between citizens and the stateis one of the most crucial indicators in theassessment of the level of democratisation of acountry. In this context, confidence betweencitizens/victims and the police is of particularimportance. In this paper, changes in policyand attitudes towards crime and policing inCentral and Eastern European countries – theso-called countries in transition – are exploredon the basis of the International Crime VictimSurveys (IVCS). These surveys were per-formed in 1992 and 1996/97, in some 20 coun-tries of that region.

The group of countries undergoing transitionrepresents the largest geo-political groupingparticipating in the ICVS. The third sweep ofthe ICVS (1996/97) covered all but two –Moldova and Bosnia and Herzegovina –Central and Eastern European countries as wellas Mongolia and Kyrgyzstan. This was by nomeans coincidental.

The political and economic shift from a total-itarian communist system to a system of plural-ist democracy, with market driven economiesand a commitment to individual human rights,as well as the integration into new regionalarrangements, drew much attention from inter-national donors. This attention was triggeredby ideological and political concern as well aseconomic interest. The downfall of commu-nism was interpreted to mean that the typicalWestern model survived last centuries’ histori-cal test of two opposing methods of politicaland economic organisation. Moreover, newmarkets were opened up and new market

opportunities appeared. Any return to the pre-vious regime would both diminish the politicalsuperiority of the “surviving system” and, per-haps more importantly, hamper the exploitationof newly created opportunities and new politi-cal and economic integration at both regionaland global levels.

Central and Eastern European countries areheterogeneous, but still share certain commontraits which originated long before the commu-nist period of their history. Among these com-mon traits, the following are of special signifi-cance: many share the Slavic origin of theirpeoples; some belonged to the three greatempires before the end of the First World Warand the majority of the peoples are Orthodox orCatholic Christians.

More recently, the most influential common-ality among Central and Eastern Europeancountries was the fact that they belonged to thecommunist world and its regional military-political (the Warsaw Pact) and economic tradearrangements.

Furthermore, out of 20 countries participat-ing in the third sweep of the ICVS, eight werepart of the former Soviet Union, five were fed-eral entities of the former Yugoslavia and twocomposed the former Czechoslovakia. All ofthese countries gained independence in theearly 1990s. Independence for some occurredpeacefully (though not without tensions) andsome, like the former Yugoslav republics,through violent conflict.

Thus, out of the 20 participants of the ICVS,those eight which emerged following thedownfall of their previous “mother land” sharean even stronger core common heritage.

193

Citizens, Crime and Criminal Justice inCentral and Eastern Europe

Ugljesa Zvekic

194

Zvekic

What distinguishes this group of countries isthe intensity of deliberate change within a rela-tively short period of time. This quality andintensity of deliberate change paradoxicallyapplies both to their transition into a communistsystem, as well as their transition from thecommunist system.

It is within this context that the relationshipbetween citizens and the state, as measuredthrough reactions to crime and criminal justice,gains particular significance.

1. CRIME AND CRIME REPORTING IN CENTRALAND EASTERN EUROPEConcern with crime, as well as evidence of anincrease in many forms of conventional crimeand organised crime, corruption and economiccrime, are common to all Central and EasternEuropean countries.

This does not mean that levels of crime andinsecurity are consistent throughout the region,but certain trends are common, including thefollowing:• Burglary contributes more significantly to

crime totals than in industrialised countries.• Between 20% and 25% of all crime involves

violent personal crime in almost three-quar-ters of these countries, and this trend is on theincrease.

• Theft of and from cars makes up one third ofthe total crime figures, and this trend is alsoon the increase.

• Theft of personal property increased in allcountries experiencing transition.

• Consumer fraud was consistently highthroughout the region.

• Corruption of public officials is far moreprevalent than levels recorded and reported inthe industrialised world, and just slightlylower than those of the developing world.

1.1 Feeling of safety

Public concern over crime involves many fac-tors, however the “feeling of safety” is tradi-tionally held to be the most important.

When comparing levels of concern overcrime in various countries, it has been foundthat more than half of people living in countriesexperiencing transition feel unsafe. This is thehighest percentage throughout the world.Conversely, the lowest percentage (13%) ofpeople who feel “very safe” in the streets afterdark, live in countries in transition.

Against this background of crime and insecu-rity, indices of the relationship between citizensof Eastern European countries and the criminaljustice systems, in particular the police, aresomewhat negative. This can be extrapolated topresent an indicator of the public’s confidencein the state.

1.2 Reporting crime to the police

With regard to the percentage of crimes that areactually reported, far fewer crimes are reportedto the police in Eastern Europe than in industri-alised regions.

Moreover, no significant change in these sta-tistics was recorded over the period 1991–96,for which data is available.

For example, burglary is reported less oftenin Eastern and Southern Europe than in theindustrialised world, but more often than indeveloping countries; robbery is reported farless than in the industrialised world, Asia andAfrica and assault is the least reported crimewhen compared with data from other regions.

These figures are consistent, specifically,with countries in transition that are in theprocess of reassessing and reorganising the roleof the police within society. It would seem thatcritical and negative attitudes towards the

Feeling of safety at night Reporting to the police – one year

195

Zvekic

police impact on levels of reporting no less thanthe type of crime in question.

1.3 Levels of satisfaction with the police

The level of satisfaction with the police isanother factor that supports the data presentedabove. The ICVS found that Latin America andCentral and Eastern Europe had the least num-ber of citizens who were satisfied with localpolice work. Moreover, the general level of sat-isfaction with police control of local crime inthese regions has, contrary to expectations,either decreased or remained constant duringthe period between 1991 and 1996. In bothsweeps of the ICVS none of the countries intransition, with the exception of Slovenia in1991, had a majority of citizens satisfied withthe police. On average, less than 25% of all cit-izens were satisfied, and almost 50% werereported as being dissatisfied.

CONCLUSIONSSeeking safety, fewer crimes and reduced fearof crime is a universal goal. However, althoughcrime prevention and crime control involveseach and every citizen in Central and EasternEuropean countries, it still remains very muchthe responsibility of the police. Efficiency andthe trust and respect of citizens and victims arekey ingredients if the police are to succeed inthis quest. These components unfortunately stilldo not exist in Central and Eastern Europe.Despite investment in police reform, the overallresults, as evaluated by citizens and victims, arefar from satisfactory.

There is still a great deal of dissatisfactionwith the police, particularly with regard to themethods used to deal with reported cases andcontrol of residential areas. Corruption of pub-lic servants and, in particular, of the police isvery high in countries in transition. This is bothas perceived as well as experienced by the citi-zens. Citizens are concerned with outcomes,every day police behaviour and police culturein general.

There is a need to change police organisationand culture. In addition, the population’s imageof the police needs to be altered from that ofguardians of the state or party interests, to ser-vants of the public and upholders of the rule oflaw. In some countries it was noted that esteemof the police declined somewhat in the immedi-ate period following independence. This waspartly due to a crisis of expectations with regardto the new era following the collapse of commu-nism as well as an alteration of the value systemfrom one of totalitarianism to one more typicalof a market economy. It was also noted that, insome countries in transition, police managersand mass media portray the crime situation asalmost exclusively composed of organisedcrime, money laundering, etc. and demonstrateless concern with every day crime and publicorder issues. In a few Central and EasternEuropean countries where the process of eco-nomic and political change has not made muchprogress, policing is still seen as the repressionof political dissidence, rather than effectivecrime prevention for the service of citizens.

In conclusion, it has been found through sur-veys like the ICVS, that elementary features ofgood policing include high success rates insolving crimes and apprehending criminals,sensitivity to the every day needs of citizens,service orientation and high levels of publicconfidence. In Central and Eastern Europeancountries all these factors must be seen withinthe broader context of a deliberate socio-eco-nomic and political change and the develop-ment of a new sense of service orientation andpublic administration. The police within theseregions face the challenge of meeting new insti-tutional values, as well as the expectations ofthe public.

Satisfaction with the police – 1996

INTRODUCTIONThis paper will briefly address some perspec-tives on the public perception of crime, safetyand policing in South Africa since 1994. Thepoints below are based on the results of varioussurveys: i.e. the Institute for Security Studies(ISS) victim surveys in metros, small towns anddeep rural areas; the Human Sciences ResearchCouncil (HSRC) national opinion surveys andthe national Victims of Crime survey. What weare interested in here is the transition. But as faras crime statistics are concerned – whetherreported to the police or to surveys – sayinganything about the pre-1994 period with cer-tainty, is difficult. Most of the data below there-fore refers to the post-1994 period.

1. THE CRIME SITUATIONSome of the trends in police crime statisticssince 1994 set the scene for considering publicperceptions about crime and policing:• Reported crime in South Africa is increasing.

Between 1994 and 1999, serious crimeincreased by 15% (more than the population,which increased by 11%).

• Several serious crimes increased at a fasterrate than the national average during thistime: most worrying is robbery and house-breaking.

• On a year-on-year basis, crime increased at afaster rate between 1998 and 1999 than atany other time since 1994.

• Murder is the only serious crime that hasconsistently decreased since 1994.

• Despite this, violent crime as a whole(including robbery) seems to be increasingfaster than property crime.

2. PUBLIC PERCEPTIONS REGARDING SAFETYThe transition has seen a decline in public con-fidence in the government’s control over crimeas well as in feelings of safety.

The transition seems to have been accompa-nied by declining feelings of safety. Since 1994– which was marked by the euphoria followingthe first democratic elections – feelings of safe-ty declined until by 1998 and 1999, more peo-ple felt unsafe than those who felt safe.

But this picture is a little misleading. Whencompared with survey data from 1991, itemerges that more people felt safe in 1999 thanin the pre-1994 election years. The 1994 trendis in fact an outlier, and the exception ratherthan the rule. This should not, however,obscure important differences underlying theseoverall perceptions – differences that help toexplain the perception in society that a “crimewave” has accompanied the transition.

The survey data shows that public concernhas shifted from political violence to criminalviolence since 1994. This is linked to the sig-nificant differences in perceptions of safetybetween race groups in South Africa.

The decline in concern about political vio-lence since the early 1990s corresponds withimproved feelings of safety among black SouthAfricans. For white South Africans, the oppo-site has been true – fear of crime has grownamong whites during the transition.

Currently, white and Indian South Africansare more likely to feel unsafe than blacks andcoloureds. This probably relates as much to dif-ferent experiences of violence and insecurityduring the transition years, as to actual vulnera-bility to criminal victimisation.

197

Citizen Perceptions of Crime and Policing in South Africa

Antoinette Louw

198

Louw

• The survey also shows that it is the middleincome groups – as opposed to the poor andwell off, who fear crime the most. These arethe people with property worth stealing butwho are less able than the wealthy to buyprotection. They are thus more vulnerable tocrime than others.

• ISS victim surveys have shown that blackand coloured South Africans are more at riskof violent crime. When asking about feelingsof safety in the places where people live asopposed to the more general questions aboutsafety used in the HSRC surveys, the datasuggests that the fear of crime is higheramong black and coloured South Africans;probably a reflection of the greater risk facedby these people.

• This might explain why in the past two yearsthe gap between the proportion of white andblack South Africans who feel unsafe is clos-ing.

Perceptions of safety are complex to manage inany society. During times of transition in whichdifferent sectors of society are not equally atrisk of crime and receive very uneven treatmentfrom law enforcement, perception is even moredifficult to manage.

This means that we, and government in par-ticular, need to consider very carefully – if notguard against – reacting too directly to publicperceptions of safety.

Equally risky is using public perception as apolicing objective and measurement tool – as isthe case with the South African PoliceService’s (SAPS’s) new high-density opera-tional strategy.

3. PERCEPTIONS OF POLICINGPeople think that crime is increasing and thatthe police’s ability to protect them is limited,but this trend is evident in many countries, eventhose where crime levels have been decreasingfor years. Two trends regarding perceptions ofpolicing in South Africa are important in thecontext of the transition.

First, the ISS victim surveys and the national

Victims of Crime survey show that a key rea-son for public dissatisfaction with the policerelates to the lack of follow-up after reporting acrime and to poor investigation of crime –essentially the work of the detective service.

Ironically, it is this sector of the police thatseems to have received the least attention since1994. Most emphasis has been on improvingthe legitimacy of the police via the communitypolicing policy that has had little impact on thedetective service in the SAPS. The value of thisapproach should not, however, be underesti-mated.

Second, surveys show that although levels ofsatisfaction with policing are generally low,many people are willing to work with the policeand to participate in community safety initia-tives.

More importantly, those who are least satis-fied with policing – the poorer communities inSouth Africa – are most likely to indicate awillingness to work with the police to maketheir neighbourhoods safer.

One explanation could be that the standard ofpolicing is so low in these areas that peoplebelieve that unless they take action to securetheir own safety, none will be provided by thestate.

However, this would not explain the clearwillingness to “work with the police”. This isundoubtedly a sentiment that would not havebeen expressed before 1994.

This is significant because, although the mis-trust and fear of the police before the transitionhas been replaced by a lack of confidence in thepolice’s ability to fight crime, people are never-theless now willing to assist the police.

CONCLUSIONThe transition in South Africa seems to havefostered high crime rates and fear of crime. Butthe fact that so many South Africans – and par-ticularly those who receive the lowest standardof policing – are prepared to work with thepolice, must be seen as a positive result of thetransition.

199

Louw

Percentage of white and black South Africans who feel unsafe, HSRC survey

South Africans who feel unsafe, November 1999, HSRC survey

200

Louw

People who felt safe, October 1991–November 1999, HSRC surveys

South Africans’ changing feelings of safety, 1994–99, HSRC surveys

201

Louw

People who felt very unsafe walking in their neighbourhoods after dark, 1997–98, ISS surveys

People who were satisfied with the police when reporting a crime, Pretoria 1998, ISS survey

202

Louw

People who thought the police were doing a “good job” at controlling crime in their area,

Pretoria 1998, ISS survey

How individuals can help make their communities safer, Pretoria 1998

203

Louw

Reporting of crimes to police (%), 1998, National Victims of Crime survey

INTRODUCTIONThis paper will address the role of “privatesecurity” in nations undergoing transition todemocracy. Where governments haveaddressed the issue of how best to bring aboutinternal security within new democracies, theyhave for the most part devoted their energies tosupporting reform of public police services(Johnston 2000; Marenin 1998). While it isundoubtedly important to reform state agencies– such as the police – that were instrumental inmaintaining previous authoritarian arrange-ments, evidence from around the world illus-trates that such efforts are not sufficient forpromoting safety and security in transitionalstates. Despite concerted efforts to reform thepolice, new democracies are burdened withhigh degrees of both violent and propertycrime. In response to the consequent demandsfor increased security made by citizens of newdemocracies, “private security” is proliferatingglobally (De Waard 1999; Johnston 2000;1992; Kempa et al. 1999). Thus far, the domi-nant modes of “private security” that havetaken hold in transitional democracies are paidprivate policing agencies and citizen-initiatedvigilante activity (Bukurura 1993; Hillyard1993; Johnston 1992; Kempa et al. 1999; Nalla1998; Schönteich 2000).

An over-reliance on these familiar forms ofprivate security leads to all manner of outcomesthat offend democratic principles (Bayley and

Shearing 1996; Johnston 2000; Shearing andStenning 1981). In the first instance, securityfor sale means that those who cannot afford itcannot have it. It means that paid security agen-cies pursue the security priorities of theiremployers (again, the well-to-do), meaning thatsecurity ends up less a democratic right than acommodity monopolised by the powerful.Many worry, quite rightly, that security con-trolled by the rich is not accountable to govern-ment and can therefore operate in the “fringes”of acceptable legal conduct. In the secondinstance, vigilante activity that appropriates thejudicial function while meting out brutalisingpunishment violates the most basic of democra-tic human rights. In the first section of thispaper, we will examine the way in which thesenegative outcomes have played themselves outin the particular context of South Africa’s tran-sition to democracy. We will illustrate the waysin which the forms of private security mostactive in South Africa in the 1990s have inmany ways blocked the transition to democracythrough revisiting and reinventing the mentali-ties, structures and practices of apartheid.

Despite all this, we will suggest that there isa very large and, counter-intuitively, positiverole for “private security” to play in governingnations like South Africa through the transitionto healthy democracy and beyond. While this isan unusual position, it is dependent upon threepremises.

205

The Role of “Private Security” inTransitional Democracies*

Clifford D. Shearing and Michael Kempa

*The ideas expressed in this paper are informed by ongoing discussions with colleagues and team members who are address-ing questions in innovations in governance, situated at the School of Government, University of the Western Cape, SouthAfrica, The Centre for Studies and Investigations in Human Rights, Faculty of Law, Universidad Nacional de Rosario,Argentina, and at the Centre of Criminology, University of Toronto, Canada. We invite correspondence and commentaryrelated to the developing ideas presented in this paper.

206

Shearing & Kempa

• First, state resources for governing security,such as the police, should be recognised assimply one node in a broader network ofavailable resources.

• Second, we advocate a much broader concep-tion of “private policing,” taking this conceptto mean all non-state agencies that con-sciously participate in the process of bringingabout and guaranteeing security.

• Third, we suggest that through linking up –or “networking” – all of these non-statepolicing nodes both amongst themselves andwith state structures, many of the strengths of“private” modes of governance can be max-imised while many of the problems we havementioned related to the commoditisation ofsecurity can be minimised: “optimising”(Johnston 2000; 1999) democratic policingoutcomes.

Accordingly, in the second major section of ourpaper, we draw upon international experienceto outline a plan for realising “networked nodalgovernance” as a mode of optimal democraticpolicing, and indicate the types of securityagencies that would be supported within suchan approach. While today we present the planin terms of reforming the governance of securi-ty in South Africa, we wish to highlight thenotion that this model, drawing as it does uponconcrete international experience, can be adapt-ed and transferred to practical use in manynations of the world – including the establisheddemocracies of the West.

In turn, we will close by spelling out some ofthe potential implications for democracy asso-ciated with the emergence of these new polic-ing forms. To preface these remarks, we willhere stress that innovative approaches to net-worked nodal governance value the full partici-pation of local citizens in bringing about securi-ty outcomes. As such, it amounts to a politicalapproach that is not only respectful and tolerantof diversity, but actively benefits from it. Thisis a crucial element for any approach to democ-ratic governance within the increasingly inte-grated global society.

1. GOVERNING SECURITY IN TIMES OFPOLITICAL TRANSITION – THE SOUTH AFRICANEXPERIENCE1.1 Reforming the public police

The new government of South Africa hasdevoted much attention and resources to trans-

forming the police force of the apartheidregime that focused on order maintenance intoa democratic police service that is working tobe more integrated with the community andrespectful of all citizens’ rights (for anoverview see Cawthra 2000). International“best practice” has been imported into policingstructures and procedures in South Africa, lead-ing to such welcome initiatives as the commu-nity policing programmes that have been pro-moted across the country.

Despite a high degree of dedication to changeand much good will on the part of many in thenew government and within the police, crimerates have boomed in South Africa over thepast decade. There are many reasons for this,but we have not been asked to present on thathere. The point we wish to impress in this con-text is that the proven inability of the police tosingle-handedly produce security within thenation has created a vacuum in security. ManySouth Africans feel insecure – both in terms oftheir personal and family lives and in theiraffairs of business. Accordingly, they havesought other means for obtaining this security.

This vacuum in the provision of securityevinced in times of transition presents a keymoment of opportunity for two sets of agen-cies: most obviously, the paid private securitysector, and less obviously, for the state itself.We will deal first with how the private securitysector has responded to the opportunity thatpublic demand has opened to them. We thenmove to discuss how the state might usefullyrespond to the present situation, both in termsof redirecting the activity of paid private andvigilante security forms, as well as marshallingand amplifying the emergent involvement ofcivic and other “voluntary” policing agencies inSouth Africa.

1.2 Paid private security and vigilantism:

apartheid revisited

While the state has been busily transformingthe public police, what has happened in therealm of private security? Bluntly put, themajor forms of private security that have beenmost active in policing the transition in SouthAfrica have preserved, and in many waysextended, apartheid. They have done so throughcatering to public demands for security that areguided by old ideas for what security “lookslike”, carving up the country’s landscape into a

207

Shearing & Kempa

archipelago of secure “fortified fragments”from which “undesirables” are barred entry orpermitted to enter for circumspect sets of rea-sons. While this new apartheid bears a strikingresemblance to the official governmental pro-gramme that preceded it, it has several qualitiesthat make it distinct and even more worrisomein its implications than the hardships that havegone before.

First and foremost, we must point out thatthis newer mode of “sorting society thoughgates” is by no means unique to South Africa.In democratic nations around the globe, expan-sive tracts of space are emerging to which thepublic has full access but is at minimum partlyprivately owned (Shearing and Stenning 1981).Within these spaces, proprietors are permittedto exercise legal rights of ownership to definethe types of behaviour that will be tolerated(and therefore types of people that will beadmitted). In effect, this creates a national land-scape that is dotted by millions of overlapping“private orders”: a political arrangement thatdraws many parallels to the feudal order ofmedieval Europe. Undesirable modes of con-duct – typically those that interfere with thesecurity necessary to achieve the imperative ofprofit making – are not permitted, and engage-ment in those behaviours, or the appearance ofthe potential to engage in those behaviours,results in being denied admittance to the frag-ment to begin with, or being ejected from itafter the event. As forms of conduct that inter-fere with profit making are directly linked witheconomic capacity, the effect is that poor peo-ple are systematically (though not officially)excluded from fortified spaces. In the contextof the new South African democracy, wealthremains tightly linked with racial background,so that the flow of persons through gatesremains largely structured along the originalimaginary race lines drawn by the old system ofofficial apartheid.

Let us now discuss a few of the most extremeexamples of the exclusionary security arrange-ments of this “neo-apartheid” (or, “neo-feudal”)order to highlight some of its most deep run-ning and worrisome characteristics. Considerfirst the instance of the “gated community.”The popularity of this form of mass privateproperty has spread widely in North America(Blakely and Snyder 1997). Here in SouthAfrica, developers have extended this concept

to its ultimate conclusion: the self-contained“gated town”.

There is one such new development that isprogressing in stages at Somerset, WesternCape, called “Heritage Park” (see the develop-er’s website www.heritageprk.com). The devel-opers explicitly market the homes, office build-ings, and plots that comprise this gated com-plex on the basis of promised security: it isadvertised, first and foremost, as a secure placeto live, to raise a family, and to do business(McGreal 1999). The parallels to a bye-gonefeudal era are rendered explicit in the promo-tional materials of the developer: “the conceptof whole town fortification has been with ussince medieval times, and it seems appropriateto take a leaf out of our past and install it into asafe future” (www.heritageprk. com).

Accordingly, an electrified fence surroundsthe entire village, which is “suitably removed”from any major city centre, and is designed tobe self-contained. The entire perimeter of thetown is monitored by a staff of 40 private secu-rity agents (paid through pooled communityresident fees) and sophisticated computer secu-rity equipment. Getting into this village is notlike the simple business of driving or walkinginto a typical residential community. Rather,one must pass through one of four entry pointsstaffed by security guards, who will be happyto admit you – once your residential or visitoror employment status is properly checked andregistered. Combining these exclusionary “sort-ing processes” with sophisticated monitoringtechnology makes the efforts of the formerapartheid government to administer very simi-lar “sorting processes” (such as the pass laws)appear amateur in comparison.

Once in, there is no real need for “respect-able” citizens to ever venture outside of theirfortified fragment, wherein one may go aboutthe familiar business of leading an undisturbedEuro-style family life under the African sun-shine. National problems such as poverty andracial disharmony disappear for residents ofHeritage Park – or very nearly disappear atleast. Immediately adjacent to a remote cornerof the village, but outside of its electrifiedfence, the developer has established a townshipof 142 very modest homes where the residentsof the squatter camp that used to stand wherethe new homes now do, have been relocated.The positioning of this block of homes is out of

208

Shearing & Kempa

the sight-line of village residents, whose atten-tion is focused on the more pleasant image ofthe salmon-filled ponds of the grounds. Thedeveloper captures the essence of the value pri-orities of his village best, where he describesthe relocation of the township to the modesthomes thus: “it is a win-win situation. They getfree homes, and we have dealt with an unsight-ly problem” (quoted in McGreal 1999). Thepoor may be “unsightly” to the developers’ eye,however, their underlying “beauty” as localinexpensive labour has not been missed: thehope has been expressed that some of the resi-dents of the settlement will find work in theshops and as domestic workers inside the wire(McGreal 1999). The parallels here with thebantustans of the old apartheid era are obvious.

Let us now briefly turn our attention to the“shopping mall” – a phenomenon which is alsoeverywhere present around the globe at themoment. These spaces are heavily “policed” bypaid private agents who apply the propertyrights of their owners and manipulate zoningbye-laws to exclude and eject undesirablesfrom the premises. While malls are very com-mon around the globe, in South Africa in par-ticular they take on a special quality in that theyconstitute one of the few “open” urban spaceswhose security is perceived as very nearlyguaranteed. As such, whites who are afraid oftruly public spaces may frequent the mall onthe basis that it offers much the same type ofsecurity that the apartheid government used toin fully public spaces (Moore 1999).

Unlike the previous apartheid regime, how-ever, persons of colour have the same officialrights as whites to enter such fortified spaces asmalls and gated communities. While such legalrights are a very important development in thetransition to full democracy, we suggest to youthat the new apartheid evinced in mass privatespaces is premised upon a more nuanced modeof racism that is not overtly and singularlypremised upon questions of race. It amounts toa new binary racism that connects race withcultural tastes that are closely correlated witheconomic standing. Anyone of colour is permit-ted to enter the new fortified fragments of thenew apartheid, providing they are both econom-

ically capable and willing (these two things areintimately intertwined) to engage in the typesof activity characteristic of North American andEuropean cultures. For instance, anyone may

enter the mall provided that they intend toengage in “shopping for entertainment” andoutwardly appear that they have the wherewith-al to do so.

And anyone may live in Heritage park pro-viding they want to live in a detached home ofeither Cape Dutch or English Victorian variety.

Neo-apartheid, much as its official predeces-sor, works through co-opting non-whites intoparticipating in its processes. The new systemachieves co-option more completely than theold one, however. This is achieved in a numberof ways, but perhaps the most important ofthese ways in terms of influencing peoples’sensibilities are the very types of space thatdevelopers and retailers are making consciousdecisions to put into place in response to theinability of the state to effectively govern secu-rity within its territories. Malls choke tradition-al street commerce and street life, removing theelement of “civility” and thereby perception ofpersonal safety for people passing through out-door space. Gated communities and villages,while sanitised on the interior, push crime and“undesirables” into the public spaces occupiedby less wealthy people. Those among the lesswell-to-do who have the ability to escape inse-cure living conditions do so, and of course, themost prevalent option open to them is to movethemselves within the walls of gated communi-ties. In short, “respectable” citizens of all ethnicbackgrounds in search of security gravitate tothese tightly controlled enclaves.

Once in, all existing “behaviour cues” aregeared towards the Western values and aesthet-ic of mass consumption and responsible citizen-ship. Originally seeking security, people whoenter these spaces are co-opted into participat-ing in the types of activity that take place with-in these fortified fragments, so that what startsout as a search for security becomes a pro-gramme of socialisation and indoctrination intoWestern values. Security therefore – or moreproperly, the inability of state governments toguarantee it and the perception of insecurityassociated with this vacuum in the public – hasbecome one of the major homogenising forcesin our new global society. Unlike the officialpolitical programme of apartheid, which happi-ly was overcome through a combination of con-certed resistance within South Africa (and inthe international community) and the sheernon-sustainability of a state-coordinated effort

209

Shearing & Kempa

to keep ethnic groups physically separate, thenew apartheid is self-sustainable in that it oper-ates through the consensual participation ofpersons of all races, and resonates loudly witheconomic and cultural trends (the two areincreasingly intertwined) around the globe.

Associated with the propagation of theWestern values of mass-consumption and heav-ily interrelated political notions of the “respon-sible citizen” who takes care of his or her ownaffairs, is the reinterpretation of the meaning of“poverty” (Rose 1999; Walters 1994).Specifically, the poor come to be regarded aspersons who have failed to take responsibilityfor themselves, and as such are regarded asmorally responsible for their fate. Insecurity inthe spaces inhabited by the morally suspectpoor – spaces that are found outside of the for-tified fragments and the conduit spaces thatconnect them (such as major motor ways andpedestrian spaces situated between adjacentenclaves) – is therefore not the concern of the“righteous” (well-to-do) who have “chosen”fragment space.

It is within this context that the rise of brutalvigilante activity in South Africa (and else-where) can be situated (on the rise of vigilanteactivity in South Africa, see: Aitkenhead 2000;Cawthra 2000; Ngobeni 2000). Wealthier per-sons who are paying directly for private securi-ty are not likely to want to also pay for its pub-lic provision through state taxes, the resultbeing a paucity of resources available to demo-cratic state structures to secure the ungatedpublic spaces inhabited by the poor. Frustrationover escalating crime in these areas, and theinability of state structures to process the loadof charges passing through the system, hasboiled over in many instances into unacceptableviolent vigilantism. In this instance, the newapartheid is associated with public indifferenceregarding crime and injustice in poor areasremoved from their own experience – just asthe old apartheid was with regard to raciallysegregated townships and informal settlements.

2. THE CHALLENGE TO THE STATE: APROGRAMME FOR DEEP DEMOCRACYWhile the continuance of apartheid in its newmarket-based guise is a horrifying prospect, wewould hasten to add that the trend we haveidentified is far from an irreversible process. Totheir credit, the new South African government

has recognised many of the problems related tosocial exclusion and lack of accountabilityassociated with paid private security (Irish1999). Efforts have been made to regulate thepaid private security industry more tightly.These initiatives have focused on traditionallegal modes of regulation that seek to prohibitparticular aspects of industry conduct. Suchattempts by the state to tame the industrythrough legal prohibition have been largelyineffective – plagued by industry oppositionand lack of compliance at every turn (see forexample Ngobeni and Powell 1999).

In our view, there are three fatal flaws under-pinning the new government’s efforts to regu-late the private security industry to date. First,traditional prohibitive legal frameworks prob-lematise (or “address”) issues – in this case pri-vate security – in terms of negative potentiality

that must be contained. As such, a reliance onthe regulatory power of the law has resulted ina highlighting and privileging of the problems

associated with private security as opposed toits potential positive contribution to the gover-nance of security during the transition andbeyond.

Second, there is a basic structural difficultyin regulating independent private security agen-cies through traditional legal approachesadministrated by the traditional centralised statejustice apparatus. Many private securityarrangements that operate independently fromthe state police are informal, transitory, oroccur on a piecemeal basis. Such arrangements,while doubtless often engaging in democrati-cally unacceptable conduct, are difficult tomonitor from the position of centralisedaccountability bodies and are thereby difficultto discipline through the traditional legalapproach of holding a particular agency or indi-vidual accountable.

Third, the paid private security industryremains more responsive to the demands andpressures of the market than to the constraintsof law: so long as there is public demand forsecurity services of a particular sort, the indus-try will find ways around legal constraints tomeet that market demand.

The way out of this regulatory conundrum isto address these three issues head on: • The government can begin by examining the

issue of whether and which aspects of privatesecurity can be put to positive public ends.

210

Shearing & Kempa

• The state can develop and put to use morelocal agencies, structures and capacities formonitoring and checking the activity of pri-vate security bodies.

• The state can shape the uses made of privatesecurity towards democratic outcomesthrough engaging the markets to which theindustry is responsive.

Allow us to develop each of these issues insequence.

The issue of whether private security agen-cies can be put to positive ends can beanswered quite simply: it will have to be. Aswe have stated and as experience has repeated-ly shown, public policing bodies are not capa-ble of fulfilling the old sovereign promise tomaintain peace within the territory of the nationstate. The concentration of authority for allaspects of policing within a single state bodywas a project for the modern period of nation-building that spanned the middle decades of the19th century to the middle decades of the 20th(Johnston 2000; Bayley 1994). It was a projectunique to that historical period (which indicatesthat it is not at all a “natural” or the “only” wayof going about governing security). What ismore, even at the high-point of the strong wel-fare liberal state, the objective of a self-suffi-cient professional police force was in no nationaccomplished (Johnston 2000; 1992). Privatesecurity agencies have always been active inproducing multiple private orders; in our pre-sent, as is particularly apparent in South Africa,private agencies are more active in the processof governance than ever before. Accordingly,the state must be realistic to accept that privateagencies are an integral part of contemporarygovernance.

Is this necessarily a bad thing? Setting asidethe distributional inequalities and concerns overaccountability that relate to market-based jus-tice, private security offers many strengths overpublic modes of justice. Its fundamentalemphasis on the prevention of future harmcompliments the de facto public police role ofpunishing past transgressions. This differencein emphasis in practice (if not in theory) relatesto the differences in the tools available to pri-vate security agencies versus those of the state:property rights and liability law (which is pre-vention-oriented) versus the criminal law(which is punishment-oriented). Second, securi-ty that is directly employed by local agencies is

more directly responsive to both the conditionsthat threaten the security of the area, as well asthe demands and concerns of persons whoinhabit that area. There is most obviously agreat democratic appeal in the capacity for pri-vate agencies to be responsive to the needs anddemands of local citizens.

To make use of and enhance the obviousdemocratic strengths of private policing whilecountering its drawbacks, government mustbegin by reformulating its understanding of therole for the state in governing security. Theinstitution of “the police” is not in itself a pub-lic good – rather, the outcome of security is.The role for the state in governing securityshould therefore not be conceptually equated(or limited) to funding a state police agency(along with an ancillary role in attempting tolegally check the activity of an autonomous pri-vate sector), rather the state should set as itsobjective facilitating access to the outcome ofsecurity for all of its citizens.

To do so, government must work within thevery real parameters of the political present. Inlight of the many bodies presently engaged inproducing security, governments must begin byestablishing clear principles for what policing isintended to accomplish. The state must thenderive suitable mechanisms for holding diverseparticipants accountable to these principles.Finally, the state must find creative ways ofhelping all its citizens have full access to themarkets for security that dominate the present.Facilitating market access enables citizens (andnot just the wealthy) to shape the types of secu-rity services offered to their own needs andpreferences.

These issues have begun to be probed withinthe context of the recent efforts of the indepen-dently appointed Patten Commission to rein-vent policing in Northern Ireland, itself a soci-ety deep in the midst of political transition. Thereport published by the Commission in 1999(ICPNI 1999) outlines a very clear statementregarding the objectives and purposes of demo-cratic policing, and proceeds to delineate anumber of very concrete suggestions for mech-anisms to translate these objectives for the gov-ernance of security into political practice.

2.1 The purpose of democratic policing

The Commission begins by arguing that polic-ing must fundamentally work towards the pro-

211

Shearing & Kempa

tection of human rights. Upon this bedrockprinciple, the Commission founds two furthergeneral objectives that we feel are central toany contemporary effort to conduct the gover-nance of security in a democratic fashion: • First, policing must seek to mobilise local

knowledge and capacity in both the directionand delivery of policing, and;

• Second, policing practice must be responsiveto local needs, as well as be transparent andaccountable through democratic practices.

As such, democratic policing is that whichworks towards the development of security as apublic good: it places ownership of policing inthe hands of citizens by rendering state andnon-state security services accountable andresponsive to all citizens rather than a particularclass of citizens or set of market imperatives.

2.2 Mechanisms – policing boards and

policing budgets

Central to the Commission’s approach is therecommendation that the state establish a“policing” rather than “police” budget, to beadministered by a “policing” rather than “policeboard”. A policing board is intended to beempowered as an administrative body responsi-ble for putting together effective and democrat-ically satisfying networked arrangements forgoverning security. Its role in this regard con-sists of three principal elements:• It is to develop such plans through extensive

consultation with a range of players with aninterest in promoting security – including, butnot limited to, the public police, paid privatesecurity agencies, local grass-roots organisa-tions, and community members.

• It is to facilitate in the implementation andmaintenance of such programmes by actingas the funding agency controlling the flow ofpublic funds into the networked approachesto security that follow.

• Its purpose is to act as an overall monitoringbody to hold all agencies participating in thenetworked process of policing accountable.The Commission recommended giving thepolicing board full legal powers to scrutinisethe actions of all policing bodies after thefact. In so doing they replaced the moreestablished state practice of affording thepublic police “operational independence”with the notion of “operational responsibili-ty” as the rationale for addressing policing

that is recognised to occur through multipleagencies.

By placing control over the state budget for thegovernance of security in the hands of a publicagency other than the police, and permittingthat agency to fund and scrutinise the activityof multiple security nodes, the PattenCommission intends that the state extend itsinvolvement in public security beyond merelymaintaining an institution to enabling locallygenerated security projects that meet its criteriafor democratic practice and outcome. Unac-ceptable practices or outcomes could be dealtwith either through legal sanction or throughtermination of funding.

2.3 District policing partnership boards

The Commission also proposed the creation oflocal boards that would be responsible for sup-porting the development of networked policingat the district level and for ensuring that theparticipants of the emergent network wereworking together in harmony to achieve effec-tive and legitimate policing. These partnershipboards were permitted to raise taxes at the locallevel to support the development of equitablenodal policing arrangements in their areas.

Situated as a programme facilitating andmonitoring body at the district level, theseboards would overcome many of the structuraldifficulties in holding diverse participants in theprocess of governing security that we havenoted above. Inappropriate conduct on the partof local participants could be dealt with eitherthrough removal or funding or through othermunicipal mechanisms, such as the denial oflicensing or application of fine.

2.4 Emergent networked policing forms

We will now discuss the types of policing ini-tiatives that the Patten approach to state regula-tion of the governance of security might fosterin South Africa. One thing which we want tostress, is that the programme outlined above isnot intended to simply give poor people theability to purchase the same types of privatesecurity services that more wealthy people areemploying within their fortified fragments. Youwill remember, after all, that simply givingpoor people (which in this country especially isassociated with race) the ability to buy theproducts presently available on the market isanother way of colonising them in the image of

212

Shearing & Kempa

Western or European values. Rather, the polic-ing budgets outlined in the Patten Commissionare intended to be construed as the redirectionof tax resources to enable and facilitate thedevelopment of structures, practices and otherresources that are rooted within the ways of lifein particular communities. Further, the powersof audit afforded to the policing board aredesigned to ensure that the practices and out-comes of such programmes are not offensive todemocratic principles.

Most fortunately for the present governmentof South Africa, there is a particularly rich fab-ric of non-state structures that exist in poorcommunities which have survived through theold apartheid regime. Many of these could use-fully be amplified and effectively regulatedthough the type of framework outlined by thePatten Commission. State support and regula-tion of such structures would go a long waytoward providing democratic forms of policingin South Africa’s poorest townships and com-munities. To cite a leading example, the SouthAfrican Law Commission (2000) has recentlyrecommended as the basis for future officialpolicy, a model for people-driven policing andcommunity justice along these lines.

Drawing upon the established experience of alocal peace-making initiative that has beendeveloped through a collaboration between thecommunity of Zwelethemba (near Worcester,north of Cape Town) and the School ofGovernment, University of the Western Cape,the model seeks to apply local resources andcapacities towards the twin challenges ofresolving past disputes and preventing theirreoccurrence in the future. It does so throughconstituting local volunteer community mem-bers into “peace committees” that convene andfacilitate open discussion in community “gath-erings”. Within these meetings, strategies areworked out to repair damages and prevent thereoccurrence of the disturbance to the peace.Within the Law Commission’s framework,reports pertaining to the content and outcomeof gatherings are required to be submitted tostate-led bodies that perform an external scruti-ny function. As such, these processes drawupon the strengths of private practice (i.e., pre-venting future harms) while ensuring that theoutcome of security is distributed in a democra-tic fashion.

The framework allows for the direction of tax

resources to pay peace committees for eachcase in which they successfully adhere to therules and values of democratic practice.Provision is made for the committees to dividethese state funds between costs to maintain thepeace process, community-building funds, aloan fund to support local micro-enterprise, andpayment for the members of the peace commit-tees to recognise the value of the work they do.Such a policing arrangement and funding struc-ture is intended to give participating communi-ties democratic ownership over the ways inwhich they are policed, and direct say in theway in which some tax dollars are expendedwithin the community. Furthermore, suchpolicing initiatives are directly aligned to thethree central objectives of the South Africangovernment, namely: crime prevention; work-creation; and nation building.

State regulation that begins with a recogni-tion of the limits of direct public police provi-sion and goes on to address head-on the reali-ties of the market, has the potential to fosternon-state policing nodes of the above variety.As such, at the centre of the programme for a“new regulatory state” (on this mode of gover-nance more generally, see Braithwaite 2000)that we have outlined herein, lies the principleof “deepened democracy”.

CONCLUSIONIn this paper we have sought to identify the roleof non-state loci of governance as resources tobe used in the provision of governmental ser-vices through times of democratic transitionand beyond. We used an empirical discussionof the present growth and negative applicationsof conventional private security in South Africato highlight the importance of the governmentdirectly engaging the private sector.

At the heart of our argument was the con-tention that government must expand its frame-work for understanding policing beyond theinstitution of the public police in order recog-nise the role it might play in regulating the net-works of agencies which are presently active ingoverning security.

With an understanding of some of thedynamics underlying these networks – mostimportantly in the South African context, mar-ket forces such as public demand that is stilllinked to apartheid values – the government isbetter equipped to engage these networks in

213

Shearing & Kempa

ways that will influence the nature of the finalsecurity arrangements that will emerge. Twoparticularly important modes of influenceinclude regulating participant bodies throughlocal accountability structures, and influencingthe distribution of security by giving the poormeaningful market power.

We moved from an abstract discussion ofthese ideas to propose a programme for reinsti-tutionalising the governance of security inSouth Africa that would integrate and networkstate and non-state resources, including theresources of the commercial security sector.For this, we drew extensively on the recom-mendations of the Patten Commission. In clos-ing we would like to reflect briefly on what thisall means for some of the more general trendsthat can be recognised within governance.

In our increasingly global society, govern-ments have been wrestling with the problem ofhow to address diversity. The standard tools forstate government that have been honed anddeveloped to address issues related to relativelyhomogeneous national populations that conducttheir affairs largely within the boundaries of thenation state – for instance the criminal law –are proving insufficient in regulating a societythat has become increasingly interconnected

and respectful of the liberal democratic value ofpreserving individual differences.

Approaches to democratic governance in thecontemporary context must therefore find waysof addressing diversity as an asset, rather thantreating it as nuisance variation that makes cen-tralised planning more difficult. The frameworkoutlined by the Patten Commission achievesthis by reorienting the conception of the “busi-ness of government” from centralised planningand provision, to a key role of balancedengagement of multiple processes and capaci-ties that reside within civil society. Thisapproach to governance is very different fromthe increasingly popular conception of non-interventionist, minimal “neo-liberal” govern-ment. A “regulatory state” of the form outlinedin this paper is firm only in its principled demo-cratic objectives: it leaves it to non-state bodiesto find the means of achieving these objectives,and then fosters objectives that appear to beworking particularly well and holds emergentpractices accountable to the standards ofdemocracy. Within such a scheme for a regula-tory state, the strengths of a multiplicity ofdiverse local programmes can be amplified,providing that they work towards a unity ofdemocratic outcomes.

214

Shearing & Kempa

AITKENHEAD, D. 2000. Rough Justice. Daily

Mail and Guardian (29 May 2000).BAYLEY, D. 1994. Police for the Future. New

York; Oxford: Oxford University Press.BAYLEY, D., AND CLIFFORD S. 1996. The Future

of Policing. Law and Society Review. 30(3):585-606.

BLAKELY, E. J., AND M. G. SNYDER. 1997.Fortress America: Gated Communities in the

United States. Washington, D.C.: BrookingsInstitution Press.

BRAITHWAITE, J. 2000. The New RegulatoryState and the Transformation of Criminology.British Journal of Criminology. 40: 222-238.

BUKURURA, S.H. 1993. Vigilantism inTanzania. Pp 131-138 in M. Findlay and U.Zvekic (eds.) Alternative Policing Styles:

Cross Cultural Perspectives. Boston: KluwerLaw and Taxation Publishers.

CAWTHRA, G. 2000. Beaten on the Beat.www.vso.org.uk/pubs/orbit/71/beat.htm

DE WAARD, J. 1999. The Private SecurityIndustry in International Perspective.European Journal on Criminal Policy and

Research 7(2): 143-174.HILLYARD, P. 1993. Paramilitary Policing and

Popular Justice in Northern Ireland. Pp. 139-156 in M. Findlay and U. Zvekic (eds.)Alternative Policing Styles: Cross Cultural

Perspectives. Boston: Kluwer Law andTaxation Publishers.

INDEPENDENT COMMISSION ON POLICING FOR

NORTHERN IRELAND (ICPNI). 1999. A New

Beginning: Policing in Northern Ireland.Belfast: Independent Commission onPolicing for Northern Ireland.www.belfast.org.uk

IRISH, J. 1999. Policing For Profit: The Future

of South Africa’s Private Security Industry.United Nations Development Programme.

JOHNSTON, L. 2000. Policing Britain: Risk,

Security and Governance. Harlow, England:Longman.

JOHNSTON, L. 1999. Private Policing in Context.European Journal on Criminal Policy and

Research 7(2): 175-196.

JOHNSTON, L. 1992. The Rebirth of Private

Policing. London: Routledge. KEMPA, M., R. CARRIER, J. WOOD, AND C.

SHEARING. 1999. Reflections on the EvolvingConcept of “Private Policing”. European

Journal on Criminal Policy and

Research.7(2): 197-224.MARENIN, O. 1998. United States Police

Assistance to Emerging Democracies.Policing and Society 8: 153-167.

MCGREAL, C. 1999. Electric Fences MakeGood Neighbours. The Daily Mail and

Guardian (01 February 1999).MOORE, A. 1999. Shopping Malls and the

Architecture of Abandonment. Daily Mail

and Guardian (29 November 1999).NALLA, M. 1998. Opportunities in the

Emerging Market. Security Journal 10: 15-21.

NGOBENI, E. WA KA. 2000. Vigilante GroupSweeps the Suburbs. Daily Mail and

Guardian (25 January 2000).NGOBENI, E. WA KA., AND I. POWELL. 1999.

Security Industry Crisis Deepens. Daily Mail

and Guardian (27 August 1999).ROSE, N. 1999. Inventiveness in Politics: An

Essay Review of A. Giddens, “The ThirdWay: The Renewal of Social Democracy,Cambridge: Polity, 1998.” Economy and

Society 28(3): 467-493.SCHÖNTEICH, M. 2000. Fighting Crime With

Private Muscle: The Private Sector and

Crime Prevention. www.iss.co.za/PubsSHEARING, C., AND P. C. STENNING. 1981.

Modern Private Security: Its Growth andImplications. Pp.193-245 in M. Tonry and N.Morris (eds.) Crime and Justice: An Annual

Review of the Research, Volume 3. Chicago:University of Chicago Press.

SOUTH AFRICAN LAW COMMISSION. 2000. White

Paper on Safety and Security in South Africa.South African Law Commission.

WALTERS, W. 1994. The Discovery ofUnemployment. Economy and Society. 23:265-291.

REFERENCES

INTRODUCTIONCompeting approaches to victim empowermentlie at the heart of debates over punitive andrestorative models of justice in the newlydemocratised South Africa. These debates playthemselves out not only inside the criminalcourts of the country, but more overtly withinSouth Africa’s national reconciliation enter-prise, particularly through vehicles such as theTruth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).Within this broad national endeavour, two keychallenges face South African society: torebuild the credibility of politically pollutedcriminal justice institutions which were inherit-ed from the past (undemocratic) regime, alongwith a legacy of public mistrust, thereby seek-ing to restore the integrity of the rule of law,while at the same time facilitating a supposedlyvictim-centred process of reconciliation basedon truth recovery, public victim testimony anda highly controversial conditional amnesty forperpetrators of past human rights abuses.Needless to say, these two distinct challengesfrequently give rise to potentially competingpriorities within South Africa’s system of tran-sitional justice.

These dilemmas of transitional justice – andthe experiences of victims within them – areexacerbated by some of the hidden liabilitiesembedded in the very nature of South Africa’snegotiated political settlement. They are furthercompounded by the fact that, far from thispolitical settlement resulting in an end to vio-lence, the transition has instead witnessed sus-tained levels and cyclical patterns of violence,which are increasingly labelled as criminalrather than political in character. It is argued in

this paper that conditions which face societiesin transition from autocracy to democracy,therefore present unique challenges to ournotions of secondary victimisation and conse-quently to the strategies for victim empower-ment. In particular, considering the magnitudeof the agenda of attempting to transform andrebuild popular confidence in inherited crimi-nal justice institutions themselves, it is clearthat strategies to deal with secondary victimisa-tion that operate in an isolated manner orexclusively within the sphere of the criminaljustice process alone, cannot begin to effective-ly redress the more expansive experiences ofsecondary victimisation which are premised onperceptions of state institutions as remainingillegitimate or unaccountable.

In South Africa, attempts to ameliorate theexperiences of secondary victimisation are con-ventionally framed by reference to the extent towhich the criminal justice process fails oralienates victims who come before it. This isusually understood by reference to the experi-ences of people inside the criminal justiceprocess, rather than by reference to cyclicalpatterns of social conflict and generational pat-terns of victimisation, shifting patterns ofsocial conflict and the more expansive popularperceptions of the role of the institutions ofcriminal justice in this evolution. In contrast tothis approach, it is argued here that in SouthAfrica, secondary victimisation must be under-stood as a societal problem rather than a merelyindividual experience which is the product ofan institutional process. These experiences ofsecondary victimisation are, in fact, embeddednot just in the criminal justice process, but in

215

“The Politics Fits the Crime”: Competing Interpretations of Victim

Empowerment in South Africa

Graeme Simpson

216

Simpson

the very cyclical and generational patterns ofrepetitive violence – along with the fluctuatingfortunes of government crime preventionapproaches and an embryonic human rightsparadigm (which themselves fall victim to thepopulist politics associated with post liberationhysteria about burgeoning crime rates).

In short, the politics of transition fits the

crime. As apartheid’s assassins walk free on thebasis of a conditional amnesty agreed to withinthe negotiated settlement, there is an almostabsurd simultaneous expectation that in a newdemocratic dispensation, the bicycle or chickenthief should miraculously acquire a new respectfor the rule of law.

1. HIDDEN LIABILITIES OF A NEGOTIATEDTRANSITIONFar from resulting in an immediate or automat-ic decrease in the levels of violence, the shiftfrom the politics of confrontation to negotiationpolitics in South Africa was actually accompa-nied by an increase rather than a decrease inthe levels of political and social violence. Atemporary increase in the levels of political vio-lence was, in some respects, inevitable andunderstandable. More striking than this sus-tained political violence during the negotiationphase, is the suggestion that the relativedecrease in political violence after the 1994election (which heralded the end of the negotia-tion phase), was ostensibly associated with anequally dramatic increase in the levels of crimi-nal violence – and this reflects importantly onthe questions of effective governance and thecapacity of the post-apartheid government totransform its criminal justice institutions.However, it is arguable that this analysis of asimple shift from political to criminal violenceought not to be taken too literally. A key legacyof apartheid’s political exclusion of the majori-ty of black South Africans, was the extent towhich this effectively criminalised ordinarypolitical and social activity, thus blurring thedividing line between political and criminalviolence. This, combined with the illegitimacyof apartheid’s criminal justice institutions, ren-dered it noble to be on the wrong side of thelaw in pre-democratic South Africa. The flipside of this coin was that the political contextalso provided a shield of legitimacy for manyactivities that would in any other circumstancessimply be framed as criminal involvement. The

criminalisation of politics and the politicisationof crime in South Africa, are flip sides of thesame coin.

In view of this, it is arguable that far fromrepresenting a dramatic shift in the nature ofviolence in South Africa, the post-election peri-od simply witnessed a selective “re-labelling”of violence which was in fact testimony moreto continuity than to any dramatic process ofchange. It may be suggested that consideringthe rather fine line that separated political fromcriminal violence under apartheid – and consid-ering the popular rhetoric associated with the“miraculous” negotiated settlement whichbrought apartheid to an end – South Africanswere rather predisposed to interpreting most ofthe violence which occurred before the electionas political, while selectively reframing suchviolence in the post-election phase as criminalin nature.

Returning to the key issue of governance, theabove analysis serves to frame one of the mostvital disguised liabilities embedded in the com-promises necessary to achieving South Africa’snegotiated peace. This was the fact that a newGovernment of National Unity (GNU) inheritedits criminal justice institutions, practices and asubstantial part of its personnel – lock, stockand barrel – from its anti-democratic predeces-sor. Quite apart from the amnesty agreementsfor perpetrators of human rights abuses whichlay at the heart of the negotiation process (andwhich will be dealt with in more detail below),this also went hand-in-glove with another fun-damental political compromise manifested in a“sunset clause” negotiated between the AfricanNational Congress (ANC) and the formerNational Party (NP) government, as a backdropto the Interim Constitution. This sunset clauseprovided that civil servants from the apartheidregime could not be evicted by the new democ-ratic government, for at least the following fiveyears. In combination with the amnesty agree-ment, this meant that the new democratic gov-ernment effectively inherited – largely intactand with their existing personnel – institutionsof state from the former regime, and with thema legacy of popular mistrust and a crisis oflegitimacy in respect of these critical criminaljustice institutions.

This presented a fundamental challenge dur-ing the first years of the democratic GNU. Theprocess of negotiations had effectively disman-

217

Simpson

tled old illegitimate sources of repressiveauthority, but had been considerably less effi-cient in rebuilding new, legitimate and consen-sus-based alternatives. This created a vacuumin which there was substantial potential andspace for criminal activity to flourish. The chal-lenge therefore was how to transform theseinherited governmental institutions, which hadbeen the primary violators of human rightsunder the old government, yet were now taskedas the guardians of a new constitution and billof rights and as the primary guarantors of safetyand security – in the context of sustained levelsof violent crime. This presented a further chal-lenge to organs of civil society over whether ornot to even engage within governmental institu-tions such as the military or the police – pre-cisely in order to transform them – consideringthe apartheid history in which these very insti-tutions of state were considered to be “theenemy”.

The importance of these compromises, whichwere rooted in the very nature of the politicallynegotiated peace process – as well as the prob-lems of legitimacy which the new governmentconsequently inherited – cannot be underesti-mated in their enduring impact on both the paceof transformation in South Africa underapartheid and the enduring impact of burgeon-ing levels of violent crime. Nor can the magni-tude of the challenge to overcome this legacybe minimised. It has entailed far more than justachieving institutional reform and a culturechange within these government agencies(itself a massive undertaking), but has alsoinvolved the establishment of rules, sanctionsand practices that are consistent with a new billof rights and constitutional practice. The criti-cal example of welfare institutions illustratesthat this transformation agenda also entailedreorganising government departmental budgetsthat were previously designed to service theexclusive needs of a small minority of whiteSouth Africans, so that they became functionalto servicing over 40 million South Africans ofall races. All this was also to be achieved with-in the boundaries of fiscal constraint and creep-ing economic recession – which generallydetermined that these new service objectiveswould have to be undertaken within the samebudgetary limits as before.

The key challenges of criminal justice trans-formation as they affected the South African

Police, therefore entailed: the need to de-politi-cise the police and develop mechanisms forincreased community accountability; reform ofthe entire police training system; restructuringof the force to incorporate the nine former“bantustan” forces; to render policing practicesubject to the constraints of a constitutional dis-pensation and bill of rights; and to fundamen-tally re-focus policing priorities from politicalto criminal activities. The dominant concern inthe early period of the new government (andeven during the negotiation phase which pre-ceded the 1994 election), was therefore essen-tially to win legitimacy and rebuild popularrespect for these criminal justice institutions bymaking a clean and definite break with the past,on the one hand, and to secure the loyalty ofinherited police membership to the new politi-cal leadership, on the other.

One further consequence of the politicaldynamics of negotiated settlement is that it fre-quently serves to define reconciliation by refer-ence to the party-political process associatedwith formal democratisation. Implicit in this isthe danger that such formal political processesfail to engage directly with the needs, experi-ences and historical traumas of victims of suchconflicts, ignoring the dramatic potential for theresultant unresolved trauma to play itself out –in sometimes transmuted forms – over genera-tions. Instead, victim empowerment interven-tions tend to be undervalued and treated asmerely remedial measures (frequently merelycomplicating the prospect of negotiated settle-ment), rather than proactive interventions incyclical patterns of conflict and violence. Incontrast, it is argued here that the South Africanexample demonstrates very powerfully thepotential of victim empowerment interventionsin preventing the cyclical and transmuted mani-festations of new forms of violence. So toodoes the Bosnian case, which powerfully illus-trates the long-term impact of residual memoryof victimisation as a key factor in the initiationand escalation of new violent conflicts – overperiods of hundreds of years. Needless to say,this perspective presents huge potential chal-lenges in respect of such conflicts as manifest-ed in such cases as the Rwandan genocide. Theneed to understand such violent civil conflictsas social phenomena which have a range andcomplexity of causes, dynamics and psycholog-ical impacts, clearly precludes short-term or

218

Simpson

quick fix prevention measures, rooted in politi-cally or diplomatically negotiated “resolution”.

It is my view that unresolved issues of vic-timisation and trauma at a massive level insociety, constitutes a “sustained crisis” which,over time, takes on a structural character –especially when associated with historical rootsin past racial or ethnic conflict. Such enduringcrisis may merely be masked by formal politi-cal or diplomatic settlements and peace agree-ments. As a result, latent conflict may notimmediately present as violent, but willinevitably manifest itself in patterns of violencewhich are cyclical in nature, frequently dis-placed, and which may well eventually playthemselves out along different lines of socialcleavage from the original political conflict. Acritical component here (which will beaddressed again below) is the sustained impactof unresolved issues of insecurity, fear and theculture of impunity for perpetrators who arenever brought to book.

In the South African context, both the TRCand the government’s National CrimePrevention Strategy Victim EmpowermentProgramme (VEP) , suggest a substantial con-cern to deal with the needs and experiences ofvictims of both ongoing criminal violence andpast human rights abuses. However, neither ofthese approaches alters the fact that a substan-tial vacuum exists in South African society inrespect of victim aid and empowerment ser-vices and policies. While government and TRCrhetoric speaks loudly regarding the interests ofsurvivors of human rights abuses or victims ofviolent crime, this simply has not translatedinto any capacity or expertise to practicallyempower such victims, particularly in respectof the most vulnerable and voiceless membersof South African society – women and children.

In particular, the lethargy and spectacularnon-delivery of any meaningful services to vic-tims by the government’s VEP – as well as thevirtual non- existence of any reparation mecha-nisms for those who have testified before theTRC – simply cannot be ignored or excusedany longer. In the shifting locus of accountabil-ity in an embryonic democracy, there is no sub-stitute for effective service delivery. Thisapplies as powerfully to the areas of victimempowerment as any other – and we need toreflect very critically on the failures of the statein this regard, both at the level of the VEP as a

crime prevention mechanism, as well as at thelevel of failed reparative measures as a productof the TRC.

The critical point here is that such victim-centred interventions must not be viewed asmerely remedial, but must also be viewed ascritical, proactive interventions in cyclical pat-terns of violence in South Africa, which haveby no means run their full course. In manyrespects this has already been powerfully illus-trated by the spectre of vigilantism, which – itmay be argued – is as much the product ofcommunities feeling under attack and unpro-tected (due to the absence of any effective vic-tim empowerment services), as it is a manifes-tation of their loss of confidence in criminaljustice institutions more generally. Victimempowerment interventions, as well as curbingcyclical patterns of violent crime, are also a keypotential mechanism for intervention in thetransformation process regarding criminal jus-tice institutions. This is clear from the simpleprevalence of preventable “repeat victimisa-tion” which is a dominant crime phenomenonin South Africa – particularly as regards vio-lence against women and domestic crime.

Furthermore, victim empowerment approach-es also force a change process within the crimi-nal justice environment through demanding theoverhaul of systems of justice that have thealienating effect of secondary victimisation forthose who take up their cases in the criminalcourts. The central assertion here, however, isthat unresolved trauma associated with victimi-sation – whether political or criminal – ifuntreated, may well result in today’s victimbecoming tomorrow’s perpetrator. This is by nomeans an automatic process – which would beto condemn all survivors to the fate of becom-ing perpetrators of violence. However, whethermanifested in generational patterns of cyclicalviolence, or more constrained loops of revengeand retribution, failure to engage effectivelywith the experiences and identity associatedwith victimisation, is a naive path to sustainedand unpredictably changing patterns of vio-lence.

A powerful illustration of sustained yetchanging patterns of violence is offered by anexamination of the trajectory of youth politicsin South Africa. This is partly due to the factthat this strategically vital social constituencystatistically represents both the primary perpe-

219

Simpson

trators and the primary victims of violence inSouth Africa. Indeed, it is arguable that vio-lence has symbolically become inextricablyintertwined with youth identity in this SouthAfrica.

Historically, young black South Africanswere the barometer of marginalisation underapartheid. They were systematically driven onto the margins of society and were rejectedentirely by the dominant culture. They wererendered politically voiceless by a system oflegislated discrimination based on race. Theywere educationally disempowered by the sys-tem of “Bantu Education”, which was deliber-ately utilised as a means of colonial control,designed only to create “hewers of wood anddrawers of water” to service the exploitativelabour needs of affluent white-owned industry.They were economically powerless due torecession and inevitable joblessness. Further-more, apartheid had decimated the alternativesources of social cohesion and places ofbelonging for these young people: the family(both nuclear and extended family forms) wasdestroyed as a source of social authority andbelonging; the school was transformed into ahighly politicised site of struggle, as was thecase in the workplace for those who were fortu-nate enough to get off the streets.

Yet, throughout the oppressive years of the1970s and 1980s, these young people provedthemselves to be incredibly resilient in the faceof such systematic marginalisation. Theyforged alternative places of belonging and iden-tity – largely through political organisationsand through the violent politics of resistance.As the shock-troops of liberation, fighting gunswith stones, young black South African menestablished an alternative subculture and placeof social cohesion, which simultaneouslyplaced them back on the front pages of thedaily newspapers – centre stage within the verysociety which had so rejected them. Indeed,political organisation clothed them in a newuniform represented by the colours and the ban-ners of the political party. It had its own lan-guage in the songs of liberation and the ritualsof protest politics. It represented a truly cohe-sive alternative subculture which gave youngmen a key stake in society, largely premised ontheir direct involvement in violence, which wassocially approved in the name of liberation.

There is a striking irony that in the shift

which took place in South Africa from the poli-tics of confrontation to the politics of negotia-tion, this very youth constituency was onceagain marginalised as “the struggle” movedfrom the streets to the boardroom, from thehands of these young foot-soldiers, to those of alargely grey-haired or balding, male, exile-based community. On the very eve of liberation– which so strongly symbolised their victories –these youngsters, who had grown up on thestreets, were told to go back to school, at a timewhen the snails-pace nature of transformationmeant that very little had actually changed inthe schoolroom.

The youngsters of 1994 were not the samepeople as the youth of the Soweto uprising of1976, but notionally they confronted a striking-ly similar experience – except that formaldemocratisation had removed much of theattraction from the politics of resistance. Itought to come as no surprise, however, that theyouth of the mid-1990s displayed exactly thesame resilience in response to their marginali-sation. It should also come as no surprise that inlieu of the political movement, the youth of the1990s found an alternative place of belongingand social cohesion within the criminal youthgangs. Like the political party before it, thegang offered a cohesive alternative subcultureto the dominant culture which had rejectedthese children. The gang too boasted its ownuniform, its own language and, through crimi-nal activity, it also filled a void through offer-ing alternative forms of wealth creation.

However, what is perhaps most significanthere is the fact that the gang also entrenchedviolence as a key means of acquiring status andgraduating within its hierarchical structures.For example, the gender-specific nature of thispredatory violence, meant that it became themark of masculinity in these social conflicts,with women disproportionately suffering as thevictims. Youth identity has thus remained fun-damentally enmeshed with violence as a meansof acquiring power and status.

However, while the marginalisation of youngpeople during the apartheid era gave rise to vio-lence that was categorised as socially functional– due to it being in the name of liberation – thesame experiences of marginalisation now gaverise to violence that is deemed to be anti-socialand criminal in nature.

Perhaps the most striking component of the

220

Simpson

youth criminal subculture in the past decade inSouth Africa, is the pervasive experience ofyoung perpetrators of violent crime that theirown victimisation is frequently perceived to lieat the root of their paths into criminal activityand lifestyles. Sometimes, this experience ofvictimisation is attributed to growing up in“loveless families”, sometimes to more graphicexperiences of domestic abuse (either as directvictims or as witnesses to such abuse), some-times it is directly related to poverty and rela-tive deprivation associated with the experiencesof political oppression. In truth, what this offersis a graphic illustration of how continuity in theexperiences of marginalisation of young peoplein South Africa, has resided at the root of muchof the violence which has continued to domi-nate this society.

The preceding pages offer an incompleteimage of the complex process of negotiatedtransition in South Africa. However, hopefully,this brief outline offers some insights into thesocial experiences of secondary victimisationwhich challenge both South Africa’s reconcilia-tion model, as well the victim empowermententerprise which is so frequently glibly linkedto this.

2. ADDING FUEL TO THE FIRE? AN EVALUATIONOF SOUTH AFRICA’S “RESTORATIVE JUSTICE”ENTERPRISEThe final section of this paper will thereforebriefly attempt to evaluate South Africa’srestorative justice aspirations (with all of itsclaims to being victim-centred) as manifestedby the TRC and will attempt to scrutinisewhether in fact the TRC does all that is oftenclaimed to redress these sustained experiencesof secondary victimisation.

Some of the most striking lessons to belearned from the South African TRC in factrelate to the fundamental clumsiness of crimi-nal law, both as a tool for achieving reconcilia-tion, as well as for best servicing the needs ofvictims and survivors of gross human rightsviolations. In societies emerging from extensiveand intense civil conflict involving widespreadviolations (such as Rwanda, the formerYugoslavia, Cambodia and South Africa), theprospects of successful prosecutions are in mostcases remote, due both to the lack of evidencenecessary to secure such prosecutions, andbecause of the disintegrated criminal justice

systems inherited in such countries. Therefore,successful prosecutions can at best be onlyselective and symbolic. Although this may becritical to at least symbolically re-establishingthe rule of law in such societies, such a punitivejustice model cannot be assumed to satisfy theneeds of the vast majority of victims and sur-vivors – either in respect of bringing the perpe-trators to book, or in respect of any form ofreparation or rehabilitation. This raises someimportant challenges for the punitive justiceparadigm inherent in most motivations for theestablishment of a permanent InternationalCriminal Court (ICC).

However, many South Africans are morethan eager to market South Africa’s “reconcili-ation” model as either an alternative or as acomplementary model which – it is argued – ismore responsive to the needs of victims andsurvivors. It is argued here that if there is animportant debate over this which is intrinsic tothe TRC process in South Africa, then it is mostappropriately framed as a debate on the meritsof restorative as opposed to punitive systems ofjustice, rather than one framed between suppos-edly incompatible “justice” and “reconcilia-tion” models. Either way, what is most strikingabout these debates is that virtually all the pro-tagonists motivate their approaches as being inthe best interests of victims and survivors ofhuman rights abuse – and it is therefore a criti-cal objective of this paper to evaluate theseclaims.

Considering that the obligation to grantamnesty (which was to be operationalised bythe TRC) was in fact originally entrenched inSouth Africa’s newly negotiated InterimConstitution, it is no surprise that some of thesedebates were actually waged before the adventof South Africa’s new Constitutional Courtitself. Furthermore, this constitutional challengeto the TRC Act was brought by the survivors ofsome of apartheid’s most notorious victims.

In their papers before the ConstitutionalCourt in the matter of AZAPO and Others v The

President of the Republic of South Africa and

Others, the applicants argued that section 20(7)of the TRC Act was unconstitutional. The perti-nent part of section 20(7) provides that:

“No person who has been granted amnestyin respect of an act, omission or offenceshall be criminally or civilly liable inrespect of such act, omission or offence and

221

Simpson

no body or organisation or the State shall beliable, and no person shall be vicariouslyliable, for any such act, omission oroffence.”

The central contention of the applicants wasthat section 20(7) of the TRC Act violated theright of access to court enshrined in section 22of the Bill of Rights, which provides that:

“Every person shall have the right to havejusticiable disputes settled by a court of lawor, where appropriate, another independentor impartial forum.”

It was argued by the applicants that by extin-guishing the criminal liability of perpetrators towhom amnesty has been granted and by pre-venting victims from bringing civil claimsagainst those who had violated their rights, sec-tion 20(7) violates individuals’ rights of accessto justice.

In a controversial yet much vaunted decision,the Constitutional Court held that the amnestyprovisions in the National Unity and Reconcil-iation Act (the TRC Act) were in fact constitu-tional. This was based on several arguments,most central of which was the fact that theamnesty granted was not a blanket amnesty andthat it was not unconditional, but instead waspremised on full disclosure by perpetrators as aquid pro quo for indemnification. However, onefurther motivation behind the judgmentrequires even more scrutiny. In evaluating theright to criminal justice claimed by the victimsopposing the amnesty provision, the Court heldthat in the majority of instances the right toprosecute those who have committed gross vio-lations of human rights is, in any event, an“abstract right”.1 This is because in most casesthe evidence necessary to obtain convictions –or even to sustain civil claims – does not existor has been deliberately destroyed. It is in thiscontext that the Court argued that one of theonly ways in which victims could obtain thetruth about human rights abuse was if perpetra-tors were provided with an incentive to comeforward and make full disclosure as to thecrimes that they committed. The removal ofcriminal liability was regarded as preciselysuch an incentive. In addition, the Court heldthat the process of encouraging perpetrators toreveal their crimes would make them confronttheir past and help society understand its histo-ry. It further added that these are importantparts of the process of reconciliation to which

the Interim Constitution was explicitly commit-ted.

The Court could have further substantiated itsargument that the right to prosecute is really anabstract right by making reference to the stateof South Africa’s criminal justice system. Evenif the evidence to prosecute perpetrators ofhuman rights abuses did exist, the criminal jus-tice system was simply not practically capableof processing thousands and thousands of suchprosecutions. Although it was not framed assuch by the Constitutional Court, in the absenceof the evidence necessary to achieve effectiveprosecutions, coupled with the absence of afunctional criminal justice system capable ofsecuring such convictions, this raised the spec-tre of the one scenario which clearly would domore damage to the forward-looking agenda ofrebuilding public confidence in the legal systemand the rule of law in South Africa, than theapparent impunity associated with amnesty:that is, impunity based upon a failed prosecu-tions process. Were this to happen, the few per-petrators who were tried and acquitted wouldthen be able to deny their involvement inhuman rights abuses, thus perpetuating a cul-ture of impunity, eroding any residual faith inthe rule of law, and potentially leading to evengreater anger and cynicism on the part of vic-tims and survivors.

Furthermore, even where such prosecutionsdo take place, it is highly debatable whetherthis satisfies the needs and expectations of vic-tims and survivors to the extent that is oftenassumed. Certainly in the South African case,criminal convictions do not jurisprudentiallyfind any automatic civil claim for compensationon the part of the injured party. The conse-quence of this is that the few South Africanswho enjoyed the prospect of successful prose-cution of those who killed their loved ones –and who are poverty stricken and marginalisedby virtue of their very victimisation – in mostinstances still faced a lack of access to civil jus-tice on the simple basis that it remained unaf-fordable. Furthermore, even where it wasaffordable, the rules of prescription applying tosuch civil claims would most likely have ren-dered most claims inoperable.

Until these jurisprudential anomalies areeliminated, or the South African justice systemis substantially transformed, the ConstitutionalCourt may be right – there is only an abstract

222

Simpson

right of access to justice for victims ofapartheid.

Yet this punitive justice model, which is per-haps least functional in servicing victims’ needsfor some form of direct compensation or repa-ration, is all too easily motivated as being intheir best interests. In fact, this discussiondemonstrates not only the clumsiness of puni-tive criminal law as a tool for meeting thereparative needs of victims and survivors, but italso illustrates the grave danger which residesin seeking to speak on behalf of victims andsurvivors, instead of more directly renderingtheir own complex voices and needs audible.The harsh reality is that for the vast majority ofSouth African victims of gross human rightsviolations, they probably stood to gain morefrom the opportunity to tell their stories (cou-pled with the very meagre reparations whichthe TRC promised), than they were likely togain from the punitive criminal justice route.None of this should be taken to deny the devas-tating impact (both individually and in legalprinciple) of the ultimate compromise whichthis entails for those few exceptions – such asthe Biko and Mxenge families who opposed theamnesty provisions before the ConstitutionalCourt – who stood an excellent chance of suc-ceeding through the criminal and civil courts. Italso offers scant consolation to suggest thattheir sacrifice represents the bitter pill whichhas to be swallowed in the name of the generalgood – and as part of a difficult transition todemocracy in South Africa.

Much has already been said of the failures ofpunitive justice to serve victims as well as isoften presumed. More still needs to be saidabout the dangers of presuming that TRC-based “reconciliation” – itself a contested term– necessarily achieves a greater amount: in bothinstances, the disservice to victims resides inthe common tendency to treat their needs asuniform and static. Generalised and convenient-ly summarised victims’ expectations tend todenigrate the complex and inconsistent humanidentity of such victims and survivors, ignoringthe extent to which needs vary from victim tovictim and change across time. Presumptionsthat victims need or demand punitive justice areno more reliable than are the claims that vic-tims are willing to forgive perpetrators whoconfess, or that they merely seek acknowledg-ment and symbolic reparations. In both cases,

by presuming to speak on behalf of victimsrather than rendering the voices directly audi-ble, victims are in fact rendered silent.

The discourse of “forgiveness” which hasembroidered much of the TRC’s work, whichcharacterised the dominant Christian religiouscharacter of many of the TRC’s proceedingsand which was prevalent in the media reportingof the public hearings of the Human RightsViolations Committee, is perhaps most illustra-tive of how this denigration of complex victimneeds played itself out during the hearings ofthe TRC.

In many senses, the onerous expectation wasset up that reconciliation was premised on vic-tims’ ability to forgive. Indeed, at one stage, thehead of the TRC – Archbishop Tutu – actuallychastised those victims who challenged theconstitutionality of the amnesty clause in theTRC Act, claiming that they were opposed toreconciliation. Yet in truth, the TRC was nomore about forgiveness on the part of victims,than it was about contrition on the part of per-petrators who sought amnesty. If the Com-mission did offer an opportunity for dealingwith wounds of the past and for healing, then ithas to be acknowledged that expressions ofanger and the desire for revenge (rather thanforgiveness) on the part of victims, may in factbe more functional to the sort of substantiverecovery best characterised by the shift in iden-tity from “victim” to “survivor”. It is the strongview of this writer that true reconciliation inSouth African society can only be achieved byintegrating the anger, sorrow, trauma and vari-ous other complex feelings of victims, ratherthan by subtly suppressing them.

A proper evaluation of the TRC processreveals that victim needs were neither static,nor consistent or constant. They were complexand changed over time, very much in keepingwith complex human identity, shaped by theenduring and complex impact of trauma. Forsome, they craved more than anything else thebasic information about disappeared relatives,for others the need was for widespreadacknowledgment of their torture. Some soughtdirect confrontation or victim-offender media-tion interventions with the perpetrators respon-sible for their suffering, others only wanted toknow of the systemic issues and the commandsgiven which gave rise to their abuse. Somerejected the TRC enterprise entirely and

223

Simpson

demanded full justice. For some, their needswere intensely personal and private, for othersthe quest was for community-based or politicalvindication. Not only did these needs vary fromsurvivor to survivor, but the needs of any onevictim also changed over time. For many, whoinitially sought no more than acknowledgmentand symbolic reparation from the process, theseneeds understandably changed when – sometime after they testified – a perpetrator con-fessed for the first time to having killed theirloved ones. Similarly, as the prospects of mate-rial reparation measures became more real, sodid the demands from some victims for mone-tary compensation. In still other instances, asthe TRC failed to uncover or investigate thefacts behind some cases, so some victimsbecame embittered and disillusioned with theTRC process.

All of these complex victims’ voices arelegitimate and all are integral to the challengeof building reconciliation in a traumatised soci-ety enduring a transition to democracy. Thecentral lesson of all this, however, relates to theimportance of victim support structures and anorganised voice for victims as critical to the tra-jectory and outcome of the process – particular-ly when both the Commission and its politicalarchitects are too often willing to compromisefor the sake of politically based reconciliation.Indeed, it is clear from the South African expe-rience of dealing with past human rights viola-tions, that survivor organisation is potentiallycritical to ameliorating the secondary victimisa-tion of those who enter the process in an other-wise atomised and isolated manner. In SouthAfrica, there was some early organisation ofsurvivor support groups and organs of civilsociety, able to articulate the organiseddemands and needs of victims during the life ofthe TRC and thereby capable of playing at leastsome role in shaping the process as it unfolded.This organisational approach proved to be veryimportant in creating some effective advocacyin respect of accessing the TRC hearings, set-ting the agenda, ensuring the provision of psy-chological support for those who testified andlobbying for attention to be given to the issueof reparations. Survivor organisation was alsosignificant (although not always successful) inalso ensuring that victims and survivors wereinformed and in some instances able to partici-pate not only in human rights violations testi-

mony, but also in the amnesty applications ofperpetrators.

Another critical role of such survivor supportstructures is that they complemented the TRC’sown concerns to provide direct emotional sup-port for victims who endured the anguish of re-living traumas through their testimony beforethe Commission. However limited the TRC’spsychological support to victims may havebeen, the simple recognition of the need for anintegrated victim aid and empowerment com-ponent of the Commission is a valuable lessonfor others who may tread a similar path. Builtinto this recognition ought also to be anacknowledgment that the simple process of tes-tifying or of telling the story, does not inherent-ly entail psychological healing or reconcilia-tion.

Unresolved trauma through such a processcan equally lead to very destructive responses,rendering all the more important the delivery ofpsychological services as an integral componentof the truth recovery process. This is equallyimportant to developing tools for “self-care forthe care givers” so as to deal with the vicarioustraumatisation of the commissioners and otherTRC staff who are exposed throughout theprocess by having to listen rather than speak.

However, having said this, it is nonethelessimportant to sound a warning that is critical toany evaluation of the provision of such psycho-logical services to victims to ameliorate theexperiences of secondary trauma which thosetestifying may experience. Through extensiveresearch conducted with survivors who did tes-tify before the TRC, CSVR researcher BrandonHamber has argued that there is a real danger inthe increasingly prevalent (international) trendof providing trauma and other psychologicalcounselling interventions as an isolated strategyfor victim empowerment. Indeed, he argues thatsuch interventions are often treated as a substi-tute for more effective, comprehensive andoften more expensive forms of rehabilitationand reparation. Hamber strongly asserts thatsuch interventions frequently seek to conve-niently detach counselling-based rehabilitationfrom survivors’ more generalised needs for jus-tice and reparation, with the result that theyoften short-circuit an integrated process of heal-ing and thereby jeopardise rather than build anysustainable individual or collective reconcilia-tion.

224

Simpson

In this context it is also appropriate to turn toan evaluation of the TRC’s reparations provi-sions. This has been a hotly contested terraindominated by competing interpretations ofwhat survivors want and need from the TRCprocess, but in which the victims themselveshave often been silenced. This has also – notsurprisingly – been an area in which victims’expectations and needs have been particularlycomplex and often contradictory. Some victimssimply expressed a desire for symbolic repara-tions, such as the provision of a tombstone tocommemorate the death of a loved one, whileothers have demanded financial assistance tocompensate for the loss of a breadwinner. Stillothers have rejected any form of reparation asan inadequate substitute for punishment of theperpetrators, or out of a rejection that the dam-age suffered and the losses sustained could everbe remedied by means of monetary compensa-tion.

The issue of state-sponsored reparation hasalso been implicitly central to the constitutionalstatus of the TRC. Notionally at least, the con-stitutionality of the whole TRC process rests onthe state’s substitution for perpetrators in pro-viding reparation to survivors in lieu of legallybased compensation or damages claims. This isbecause the granting of amnesty to perpetratorshas effectively denied victims the possibility ofany civil claims. The means of meeting thisobligation took the form of a commitment bythe TRC to provide reparative measures for vic-tims which will, nonetheless, obviously fall farshort of the extent of monetary compensationwhich would have been payable as a result ofsuccessful civil claims.2 However, unlike thedecisions of the Amnesty Committee, whichare only subject to review by a court of law, theReparations and Rehabilitation Committee ofthe TRC was only empowered to make recom-mendations – or policy guidelines – whichremain dependent on the apparently non-exis-tent political will and financial capacity of government if they are to be implemented. Intheory, such reparations will not merely operatethrough monetary provisions to individual vic-tims, but will primarily focus on collective andoften symbolic reparative measures – anothersignificant source of contention and politicalcontroversy, considering the expectations thatwere created through creating a harrowing andtraumatic system of individual testimony,

which it currently appears is unlikely to bematched by any substantial form of individualreparation.

Quite apart from the problems of magnitude(and the implicit risk that the democratic statecould easily be rendered bankrupt in an attemptto meet the compensatory obligations of itsoppressive predecessor), the current state ofgovernment-sponsored victim empowermentservices in South Africa strongly suggests thatthis is an arena which perfectly illustrates thenew government’s grave difficulties in translat-ing creative and visionary policy into meaning-ful implementation and service delivery. Theselimits on the “reach” of the state in transitiondemonstrate the vital need for transformation ofinherited governmental social welfare services,along with the institutions of the criminal jus-tice system which have already been discussed.The bottom line is that government is highlyunlikely to satisfy the recommendations of theTRC in respect of reparative measures for vic-tims and this will undoubtedly raise some retro-spective questions about the soundness of theConstitutional Court’s perspective. It is sug-gested here that the TRC has been inadequatein monitoring the changing needs and expecta-tions of the majority of victims who will cer-tainly not be satisfied with notions of symbolicreparations – and many of whom are under-standably extremely sceptical of government’scommitment to providing direct forms of com-pensation. More importantly, it is arguable thatdespite its overt concerns to express the prima-cy of victims’ needs in the process of buildingreconciliation, though creating the anticipationof reparation, the TRC process itself did a greatdeal to compound rather than to resolve the sec-ondary victimisation of those who invested inthe process through their testimonies.

In defence of the TRC, it ought to be recog-nised that the question of reparation is anextremely complex one, especially in a societylike South Africa with competing developmen-tal concerns and severely limited financialresources. To some extent, this is also anintractable problem considering the TRC’sreliance upon government to implement anyreparations proposals. Even more striking is thetension between individual needs and demandson the TRC on one hand, and the economic andpolitical rationale that underpins the notions ofcommunal reparation, on the other. Ultimately,

225

Simpson

all this amounts to an unresolved tensionbetween reparation for individual victims ofgross violations of human rights as defined inthe Act, and the wider concerns of the new gov-ernment with redress of historically entrenchedinequities more generally. In this regard, muchcriticism has been levelled at the TRC for notadequately engaging with the full spectrum ofeconomic beneficiaries of apartheid.

Furthermore, there certainly has been little orno apparent voluntary commitment from thecorporate community to invest in any form ofreparation or restitution – let alone in in-housetransformative reconciliation programmes. Insome respects, these criticisms of the TRC areaccurate, but this is also slightly unfair to theTRC, which can realistically only be one ofseveral vehicles for such redress. In otherwords, to do full social and economic justice,these failures cannot really be placed at thedoor of the TRC alone, but relate to the widerprocess of transformation in South Africansociety – in which endeavour the TRC is, atbest, a junior partner.

CONCLUSIONIf the TRC was a complex creature, then it wasnot just because of the competing politicalinterest groups and agendas within it, but alsodue to the internal tensions between competingnotions of what “truth” was in fact being recov-ered.

This is well illustrated by the constant tensionin TRC hearings, between a quasi-judicial dis-course defined by the terms of the NationalUnity and Reconciliation Act, concerned withcross- examination, fact-finding and formal or“legal” truth based upon verifiable facts, on onehand, and a supposedly victim-centred and psy-chologically sensitive story-telling enterprise,

which was designed as non-inquisitorial, on theother. While the former demanded proventruths which could not accommodate contradic-tion, the latter psycho- social “truth” couldnever exclude such complexity and contradic-tion.

The TRC therefore often reinforced the termsof a largely sterile debate between restorativeand punitive justice, as if the two were mutual-ly incompatible. In so doing, it arguably didmore to hide than it did to reveal the complexvictim identities on whose behalf the TRC wassupposedly designed.

There are undoubtedly times when all coun-tries may have to sacrifice legal principles inthe name of political pragmatism, in order toend wars or to achieve peace. However, so longas this is done with scant regard for its impacton the credibility of the criminal justice systemand of criminal justice processes, we breathelife into the culture of impunity that is a foun-dation stone of criminal behaviour in any soci-ety. At some point when amnesties are granted,someone has to bear the moral responsibility,not only for the political violence of the past,but also for the burgeoning violent crime thathas emerged in many countries after transitionto democracy and within newly deregulated andemerging economies, once the so-called politi-cal violence has decreased. Ultimately, in SouthAfrican society, the practical translation of therhetoric of reconciliation into reality dependsupon whether reconciliation initiatives reachbeyond the limits of formal political and consti-tutional change, to tackle those deep rootedsocial imbalances, which – at the most funda-mental structural level – underpin the culture ofviolence and which give rise to the social expe-riences of cyclical, repeat and secondary vic-timisation.

226

Simpson

1) By this the Court did not imply that suchrights were purely theoretical, or that theywere not claimable against the state. Thisreference to an “abstract right”, althoughopen to misinterpretation, should rather betaken to mean that the rights conferred weretangible, but in large part were impossibleto exercise in practice. The same couldarguably be said of civil claims that may beseverely impaired in practice by SouthAfrican rules of prescription, which dictatethat civil claims prescribe after three years.

2) There is an interesting point to be madehere in relation to the debates over interna-tional jurisdiction as well. If the notionalbasis for extinguishing criminal and civil

claims at the national level rests on thecommitment to at least symbolically substi-tute government’s contributions for the per-petrators’ in providing some form of repara-tion for survivors, then ought this not alsoapply to any suspension of internationalcriminal jurisdiction? Would it not beappropriate for the international communityto, for example, extinguish the cripplinginternational debt incurred by the apartheidregime, on condition that this is reinvestedin collective rehabilitation of apartheid’svictims, thereby making a significant contri-bution to sustaining and maintaining anembryonic democracy?

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTIONThis paper takes two themes – comparativeperspectives on crime in societies in transition,and international initiatives on crime preven-tion – as a starting point to ask some funda-mental questions about the role of the interna-tional community in developing more effectiveresponses to local crime. Stated differently, thispaper aims to raise some questions about therationale for international involvement in theprevention and control of local crime condi-tions.

1. CRIME AS A UNIVERSAL EXPERIENCE; CRIMEAS A UNIQUE EXPERIENCEThe background to this discussion is the factthat crime is a nearly universal phenomenon. Inthe United Nations (UN) Global Report onCrime and Justice (1999), Jan van Dijk pre-sents data from the International CrimeVictimisation Survey (ICVS) showing that halfof urban respondents throughout the worldreported that they had been victimised by crimeover the past five years.1 There are someimportant variations in this finding.Victimisation rates are highest in Africa andLatin America where three-quarters of urbanrespondents reported they had been victimisedat least once. The rates were lowest in Asia.There are intriguing regional differences – inWestern countries, men are assaulted at aboutthe same rate as women, whereas in LatinAmerica and Africa the risk of being assaultedis 50% higher for women than for men. Theoverall trends are positive for developed coun-tries – crime is on the decline – but the trendsin crime are upward in developing countries,

leading to a concern over a “safety gap”between the two. Despite these differences andtrends, one is struck by the commonality of thevictimisation experience:

“The notion of high crime rates as uniquefeatures of some unfortunate nations is notsupported. The experience of being crimi-nally victimised has become a statisticallynormal feature of urban life all over theworld, though the type of victimisationvaries.”2

Unlike so many other challenges facing theinternational community – e.g., hunger, diseaseor poverty, which are devastating in certaincountries – the challenge of crime is faced byall societies.

At the same time, crime rates reach troublingportions in certain parts of the world at certaintimes. Consider the following:• According to official police records, the

homicide rate in Mexico increased by 50%from 1990–95, robberies increased six-foldin 15 years and kidnappings are becomingincreasingly common, numbering over 1500a year.

• In São Paulo, Brazil, the per capita murderrate has nearly doubled in the past 15 years.São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro have the high-est murder rates in the world, 66 per 100 000(São Paulo) and 60 per 100 000 (Rio).3

• In South Africa, the seizures of crack cocainetripled from 1998 to 1999, the amount of rawcocaine confiscated increased tenfoldbetween 1994 and 1998, and the number ofcocaine dealers arrested nearly doubled from1997 to 1998.4 Between 1997 and 1998,South Africa, already rated number one in

229

International Strategies for CrimePrevention in Transitional Societies:

Problems and Prospects

Jeremy Travis

230

Travis

the world for murder, rape, robbery and vio-lent theft per capita, saw its numbers of rob-beries, burglaries and thefts rise significantly,while murder rates held steady and rapesdeclined.5

• Between 1985 and 1992, the rates of violentjuvenile crime, and juvenile homicides com-mitted with guns doubled in the United States(US). Over the same seven-year period, thenumber of male minority youths arrested fordrug-related crimes also doubled in the US.6

So, if crime is a nearly universal experience,with both developed and developing countriesaffected, with important regional differences,and with “hot spots” of crime epidemics break-ing out in different cities and countries aroundthe globe, how should we conceptualise theappropriate international response?

Before tackling that task, some definitionalclarifications are in order. For purposes of thispaper, we will distinguish between three typesof international engagement on issues involvingcriminal behaviour. The international commu-nity is appropriately concerned about transna-tional crime and about human rights violationscarried out in the criminal justice arena. Theseinternational activities are not the concern ofthe paper. Rather, this paper will focus on theissue of the appropriate international responseto common crimes occurring in societies thatare undergoing uncommon periods in their his-tory; the issue of common crimes committed bycommon people in societies that are undergoinguncommon periods in their history. Finally, by“international assistance”, we mean the menuof governmental (e.g., UN initiatives, bilateralprogrammes, multilateral treaties) and non-gov-ernmental (e.g, foundation support, assistancefrom financial institutions, university pro-grammes) responses that we would see in thehealth, nutrition, agricultural or other socialpolicy arenas.

With these observations in hand, our task isto develop a rationale for international assis-tance in supporting the work of national gov-ernments and local communities in respondingto crime, a social phenomenon that is, by defin-ition, quite local.

2. THE COMPONENTS OF CRIME POLICY:PREVENTION AND RESPONSEIt is useful to think of crime policy as a three-legged stool – two parts prevention, one part

response. A society should simultaneouslywork to prevent crime, through two broadstrategies, and to ensure an effective responseto crime.

On the one hand, “crime prevention” canoccur as a result of public and private activitiesthat have the consequence of reducing the inci-dence of crime. Under this definition of a“crime prevention activity”, developed by theUniversity of Maryland in its report to the USCongress entitled “Crime Prevention: WhatWorks, What Doesn’t and What’s Promising,”crime prevention activities cover a wide rangeof social policies – from prenatal health care, toeducational programmes, to targeted policeinterventions, to incarceration. Each of these, incarefully controlled evaluations, has been foundto decrease the incidence of criminal behav-iour.7 It is important to note that the programmeor initiative need not be intended to reducecrime – rather, it is a crime prevention activityif it has the result of reducing crime.

Accordingly, the types of activities that canbe listed under the heading “crime prevention”cover a wide range of public and private activi-ties, many of which, such as health care pro-grammes, are justified primarily because oftheir other socially desirable outcomes, nottheir crime prevention outcomes.

On the other hand, we can approach the issueof crime prevention from a different perspec-tive, and ask, “What factors in community lifeare correlated with low crime rates?” Inanswering this question, we refer to anotherbody of research literature documenting thatcommunities that share common values, treatcommunity members with respect, and care forthe well being of the children of the communi-ty, are communities with low rates of violence.8

Accordingly, seen from this perspective, theactivities that would be funded under the head-ing of “crime prevention” are activities thatbuild strong communities, develop a sharedsense of community purpose, and focus particu-larly on the future of the young people comingup in that community.

There is a third dimension to crime policy,namely, the effectiveness and legitimacy of theformal apparatus established to respond tocrime. Setting aside any discussion of the effec-tiveness of the police at reducing crime, onecan still argue – from a simple governmentalefficiency perspective – that the police should

231

Travis

be evaluated in terms of their capacity torespond to crime reports, solve crimes, appre-hend offenders, and do so in accordance withestablished standards of fairness and decency.Similarly, setting aside any discussion of therole of prosecutions, convictions, and appropri-ate punishments in deterring criminal activity,one can still argue that the prosecutors, courtsand corrections agencies should be evaluated interms of their ability to adjudicate allegationsof criminal behaviour swiftly and fairly and totreat offenders and victims in a manner reflect-ing established professional standards.

Putting these three perspectives together, asociety’s crime policy would seek to meet threegoals: first, encourage those policies thatreduce crime; second, develop the capacity ofcommunities to produce their own levels ofsafety; and third, build a justice infrastructurethat responds to crime efficiently, fairly, andjustly.

3. INTERNATIONAL ASSISTANCE FOR EFFECTIVECRIME POLICIESThe next step in our analysis is to ask what rolethe international community can play in localefforts to develop effective crime policies. Wemust recognise at the outset that whatever levelof international funding is made available islikely to be infinitesimal compared to theinvestments of national and local governments.So, the international investments must be care-fully targeted to maximise return. I think thereare three levels of international assistance pos-sible.

3.1 Information assistance

Returning to our three-legged stool, we can seesome opportunities for international support.Clearly, as at this conference, one of the mostimportant roles the international communitycan play is to provide a forum for the exchangeof ideas about what works. The internationalcommunity, particularly the research communi-ty, can help local practitioners think about theefficacy of various interventions. The interna-tional community can work to develop a coop-erative framework for comparative research, toprovide yardsticks for measures of effective-ness, to articulate standards for the performanceof the police and criminal justice agencies, andto conduct surveys, such as the ICVS, thatassist local communities in understanding their

own experiences in the light of relevant com-parisons.

This minimal level of assistance is withinreach, with assistance from the Internet age,and should help communities around the worlddevelop more effective local responses. Theacademic community, the philanthropic sector,the criminal justice professions, are all increas-ingly international in their outlook and content.The UN has historically played this role,through the regional institutes and researchsuch as the UN Crime Survey and ICVS. Thenatural forces of globalisation will dramaticallyincrease this form of international assistance.

Yet we should acknowledge honestly that theinternational response, even at this level, hasbeen anaemic, particularly when compared withother arenas of policy. Take, for example, therelatively mature and robust infrastructure ofthe international agricultural research commu-nity.

The Consultative Group for InternationalAgriculture Research (CGIAR) conducts sys-tematic analysis and projections of agriculturalissues across countries.9 It has a sophisticateddata and research infrastructure. Established in1971, it describes itself as an informal associa-tion of 58 public and private sector membersthat supports a network of 16 international agri-cultural research centres. The CGIAR budgetfor 1998 was $340 million and was fully fund-ed by member contributions. The World Bank,the Food and Agricultural Organisation of theUN, the UN Development Programme and theUN Environment Programme are all co-spon-sors of CGIAR. They work to strengthennational agricultural research in developingcountries, to conduct research programmes inpartnership with a variety of other institutions,and, in their words, seek to “mobilise the bestin agricultural science on behalf of the world’spoor and hungry”.

There is no similar international researchgroup focusing on the issues of crime and jus-tice in transitional societies. There is no similarcommitment to the development of knowledgeabout the issues discussed at this conference.Just imagine if there were a consultative groupon international crime and justice research,linking research institutes around the world,funded at $340 million. Our level of knowledgeand the effectiveness of our practice would besignificantly enhanced.

232

Travis

3.2 Technical assistance

A second level of international engagement isto provide on-site technical assistance in devel-oping the indigenous capacity to prevent andrespond to crime and administer justice. Thiswould mean working with police agencies toprovide training, helping the courts to developstandards of adjudication, providing educationon the rights of victims of domestic violence,assisting the establishment of drug treatmentand other rehabilitation programmes for offend-ers. This level of international response consistsof active technical assistance, with the goal ofbuilding local infrastructure that is self-sustain-ing after the international support has ended.An example of this form of assistance, under-taken on a large scale, was the involvement ofthe West German legal and criminal justicecommunity in supporting the adoption ofWestern legal practices in the former EastGermany following unification. Similar effortsare under way here, as nations of SouthernAfrica work together to combat crime acrossborders. The Community Peace Programme ofthe University of the Western Cape, funded byinternational foundations and governments, thatis developing new approaches to the resolutionof conflicts in townships across South Africa, isanother example of this form of assistance.Indeed, it is remarkable how much assistancethe international non-governmental organisa-tional (NGO) community has provided to SouthAfrica during this time of historical transition.

But, remembering the role of strong commu-nities in producing safety, we would think ofother community development efforts as part ofa crime prevention programme. For example,programmes designed to develop NGOs gener-ally, or local governance structures generally,could have the result of reducing crime andsocial conflict. So these efforts should becounted as “crime prevention”. This wouldrequire a rethinking of traditional internationaldevelopment efforts, but they can have crimeprevention consequences. Following this wayof thinking, the work of UN development pro-grammes generally would be coordinated withthe unique needs of transitional societies to pro-vide for safety and justice.

3.3 Strategic assistance

A third level of engagement would be to pro-vide international assistance in the development

of new crime prevention and crime controlstrategies. Here, the role of the internationalcommunity is to develop new policies, testthem, analyse the results, etc., working withlocal governmental agencies. We have seen thistype of assistance in other social policy arenas.At the Urban Institute, for example, ourInternational Activities Centre works with anumber of countries, principally in the formerSoviet Union, to help them develop and admin-ister new policies on housing, retirement bene-fits, management of local resources and facili-tation of community involvement in policymaking.

There are examples of such efforts in thecrime policy arena as well Here in SouthAfrica, there are a number of internationalefforts to work with local agencies to developand test new policies. To cite one example, theVera Institute of Justice, with funding from theSoros and Ford Foundations, has establishedthe Bureau of Justice Assistance here in SouthAfrica. This is a non-governmental entity,working closely with the Justice Ministry andthe Prosecutors Office, to undertake initiativesthat are remarkably central, not peripheral, togovernmental functions. For example, Vera hashelped developed pre-trial release policies andactually administers the Pre-trial ServicesAgency.10 The Bureau of Justice Assistance isfacilitating a strategic planning effort designedto enhance the effectiveness of prosecutions forcar hijacking and to reduce the incidence of thatparticularly pernicious criminal activity inSouth Africa. It is remarkable that these coreactivities are made possible by internationalassistance.

Yet, I am struck by the limitations inherent inthis more ambitious form of assistance. In someareas of policy, it would be quite natural for anational government to call upon the interna-tional community for assistance. If the social illwere an outbreak of a new strain of disease, orcrop failure, or malnutrition, we would not besurprised to see calls for an internationalresponse. Yet when violence is on the rise, orcorruption is increasing, the first reaction is thatthese are local (i.e., national) concerns and nointernational assistance is requested. Maybe weare saying that there is no international exper-tise in responding to these kinds of crime epi-demics, that our knowledge base is too shallowto think that an emergency response team could

233

Travis

make a difference. Maybe national and localleaders are reluctant to acknowledge that thecrime problem is beyond local control.

4. THE SPECIAL CASE OF CRIME IN SOCIETIES INTRANSITIONDoes the outbreak of crime in societies that aremoving from totalitarian regimes to democraticregimes, from regulated economies to openeconomies, constitute a distinct rationale forinternational assistance? If so, what form ofassistance?

Let’s imagine two countries, Country A andCountry B. Country A is a developing nation,struggling with a fragile democracy that is sev-eral decades old but is by no means secure. Itsmurder rate has increased by 50% over the pastfive years. Country B is a developing nation,struggling to establish a new democracy afterseveral decades of authoritarian rule. Its murderrate has also increased by 50% since democra-cy was established five years ago. Do these twocountries have equal claims on the internationalcommunity to respond to their crime condi-tions?

I think an argument can be made thatCountry B has a stronger claim, principallybecause failure to deal with its rising crime rateis more likely to create conditions that couldundermine democratic reforms and encourageharsh penal policies. The fear of crime may cre-ate a groundswell of public opinion favouring areturn to more oppressive responses to crime;the governmental authorities may translate thispopular demand into directions or expectationsof the police, prosecutors and judges to “gettough”; the laws would then be enforced toostringently, rights would be violated, harsh pun-ishments imposed, all in the name of preservingdomestic peace. As a result, a democratic gov-ernment, created by a movement to end repres-sion, could end up recreating new forms ofgovernmental repression, this time sanctionedby the democratic regime.

The issue of corruption poses separate chal-lenges. Many societies have experienced a risein official corruption following the transition todemocracy and more open economies. Failureto respond to the problems of corruption at anearly stage in the transition could arguablymake it much more difficult later to establish

open competitive markets and public respectfor the processes of government. Given theinterest of the international financial communi-ty in creating and sustaining those open mar-kets, it is noteworthy that only recently haveorganisations such as the World Bank elevatedthe corruption issue on their agenda. At thesame time, the intractability of the corruptionphenomenon in transitional societies is areminder that progress in this area will requiresignificant time, investment and perseverance.

So, if we place a value on democracy andopen markets, then there is a compelling casefor significant international assistance in theearly years of these transitions.

This assistance, to be effective, would needto be offered at all three levels, with strongstrategic support, good data collection systemsto measure effectiveness, and significant invest-ments in the development of effective and fairsystems of law enforcement and the administra-tion of justice.

CONCLUSION: THE CHALLENGE OF CRIME IN ATRANSITIONAL SOCIETYHaving made the case for a significant interna-tional response when crime threatens societiesin transition, we must acknowledge how littlewe know about the underlying phenomenon.There has not been much research on the rea-sons behind these rapid shifts in crime patterns.We do not know much about the effects of theloosening of controls upon the anti-socialforces in our society.

Ultimately, we need to conduct researchusing these natural experiments so that we canlearn from each case study in ways that willinform policy in the next country to undergosuch a transition. This may be the ultimate rolefor the international community – to documentthese cycles, to create an international dialogueon the dynamics that are unleashed at thesepoints in history.

If democracy is valued, and open markets arevalued, then they are threatened by the crimeimpulses that are born at the same time thatsocieties in transition give birth to new govern-ments and new economies. Our ultimate task isto shed light on these seismic shifts so that thenext burst of democratic fervour is not accom-panied by rising crime.

234

Travis

1) Van Dijk, Jan J. M. 1999. The Experienceof Crime and Justice. Global Report on

Crime and Justice. pp. 25-42: UnitedNations.

2) Van Dijk, Jan J. M. 1999. The Experienceof Crime and Justice. Global Report on

Crime and Justice. pp. 25-42 UnitedNations.

3) Buckley, Stephen. Brazil’s BrutalEconomic Gap: Disparities Blamed forWave of Violence. June 2000. WashingtonPost Foreign Service. The WashingtonPost.: Washington D.C.

4) Jeter, Jon. Crack Gains Hold on SouthAfrica."August 2000. Washington Post

Foreign Service. The Washington Post Co.:Washington D.C

5) Swarns, Rachel L., South Africa in anUphill Fight Against Crime."May 2000.New York Times: New York, New York.

6) Blumstein, Alfred and Wallman, Joel.(Eds.). 2000. The Crime Drop in America.Cambridge University Press. Cambridge,United Kingdom.

7) Sherman, Lawrence W., Denise C.,Gottredson, Doris L. MacKenzie, JohnEck, Peter Reuter, and Shawn D.Bushway., Dept. of Criminology andCriminal Justice, University ofMaryland.1997. Preventing Crime: What

Works, What Doesn’t, What’s Promising.A Report to the United States Congress forthe National Institute of Justice. Washing-ton: Office of Justice Programmes, U.S.Department of Justice.

8) Sampson, R., Raudenbush, S., Earls, F.,1997. Neighbourhoods and Violent Crime:A Multilevel Study of Collective Efficacy.Science, Vol. 277. American Associationfor the Advancement of Science.

9) For more information on The ConsultativeGroup for International AgricultureResearch (CGIAR), see the website athttp://www.cgiar.org/

10) For more information on the Vera Instituteof Justice’s Bureau of Justice Assistance,see the website at verasa@iafrica.com

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTIONSince the collapse of the Soviet Union a decadeago, numerous European countries and theUnited States (US) have provided assistance tothe police forces of former Soviet Union states.This help has come in many different formsranging from organising seminars on interna-tional topics such as transnational crime andmoney laundering, to the provision of specialistequipment such as forensic and investigativetools. The range of providers is also extensiveand includes police forces, government agen-cies, academics and charities. It is often diffi-cult to quantify the “value” of this assistance orthe factors motivating the donors.

This paper seeks to consider some of the rea-sons why international assistance has been pro-vided in the past and, more importantly, whatcan be learnt about providing help in the future.In part it draws upon the experience of a pro-ject currently under way in the Ukraine thatseeks to introduce context-driven communitypolicing in the city of Kharkiv. The project issponsored by the United Kingdom’s (UK’s)Foreign and Commonwealth Office and isadministered by the British Council in Kyiv,Ukraine. It is an ambitious three-year projectbringing together academics from the ScarmanCentre at the University of Leicester in the UK,police practitioners from the West MidlandsPolice in the UK, experts from the Ministry ofInterior University in Kharkiv, and police offi-cers operating in two districts in the city ofKharkiv.

The paper begins by exploring some of thereasons that may explain why some govern-ments and organisations have committed con-

siderable resources to attempting the reform ofpolice in former Soviet states. It then considerssome of the problems associated with “export-ing” policing, especially models of communitypolicing as has often been the focus of donorsfrom the UK and the US. This is followed by areview of some the underlying prerequisites ofproviding international assistance, in particularthe need for work to be grounded upon a solidfoundation of research, and the importance ofany effort to be context-driven and truly collab-orative in its design and delivery.

1. RATIONALE FOR ASSISTANCEDiscovering why assistance is made availableto police forces of countries in transition1 isneither easy nor straightforward. However, twokey motivators can be identified: increasedpolitical stability and the process of democrati-sation; and future practical assistance in tack-ling international crime.

The motivation for the involvement of indi-vidual police forces can vary from the practi-calities of having to cooperate with the recipi-ents of assistance in the future on commoncrime problems, to individual police officersperceiving such help as an opportunity to pro-vide philanthropic assistance to “fellow” policeofficers.

At a governmental level the impetus forinternational assistance is very often a desire tofoster the “democratisation” process withincountries emerging from the Soviet bloc.Agencies such as the UK’s Foreign andCommonwealth Office and the Department forInternational Development, together with theUS’s Department of Justice, routinely develop

235

International and Regional Initiatives:Providing Appropriate International

Assistance

Adrian Beck

236

Beck

programmes of assistance designed to facilitatechange that will support political reform.2 Aspart of this approach, a range of agencies andgroups – such as those involved with constitu-tional reform and emerging political groups –are often provided with assistance.

In addition, the criminal justice system,including the courts, prisons and police, areperceived as potential recipients of help and inneed of reform. This is often offered under thebanner of the promotion of human rights or aspart of the support for opportunities for freespeech, peaceful demonstration and politicaldiversity. It can certainly be argued that a cen-tral tenet of the democratisation process is thereform of the police service. Police workers arearguably the government agents most immedi-ately and intimately involved in the well beingof individuals and the health of communities.3

The police have the responsibility of enforcingthe laws of democratic government. However,they also have the power to deprive individualsof their human rights and are authorised to useforce, even deadly force, as part of their duties.They can therefore be seen, on the one hand, tobe advancing the cause of democracy by actingfairly and “serving the public”, and yet on theother hand, they can actively impede the demo-cratic process by acting in ways that are per-ceived to be illegal, unjust and corrupt.

The second major stimulus for encouragingassistance, particularly between police forces,is the perceived increase in the internationalisa-tion of crime. Many types of crime, includingthe trafficking of illegal drugs, people andweapons, and money laundering, now tran-scend traditional country borders. Growingconcern over such problems has led policeforces in different countries to seek ways ofcollaborating with each other in order to tacklewhat is perceived as common problems.Countries of the former Soviet Union are seenas a particular “risk” by Western Europeanpolicing and security agencies for the followingreasons: they encompass large geographic areasbordering both Western Europe and Asiancountries, thereby facilitating the movement ofillegal drugs; they are for the most part, eco-nomically weak and dysfunctional; reelingfrom the collapse of established social orders;and vulnerable to organised crime groups thathave been seen to enter the void left by thedeparting Communist Party regime.

The perceived need to collaborate operateson at least two levels: practical policing prac-tices; and the provision of training and equip-ment. The former seeks to develop workingrelationships that will assist in catching crimi-nals who may exploit international boundariesto commit crime. Recent practical examplesinclude UK police officers liaising with theirRussian counterparts on the policing of footballmatches between teams competing in theChampions League; and Customs and Excisestaff in the UK working with colleagues inLithuania and Latvia on the illegal import andexport of motor vehicles. Much of this work isbeing increasingly formalised into working pro-tocols and intergovernmental agreements suchas extradition treaties.

At another level, “donor” police forces oftenprovide training and equipment for securityagencies undergoing rapid social, political andeconomic change. This can take the form oftraining material (sometimes translated into therecipients language, sometimes not); visits by“experts” to provide “training the trainers”courses or to attend seminars and conferences;visits by recipients to donor countries “to seehow it is done” and the provision of specialistequipment such as forensic analyst tools, vehi-cles, radios and weapons. For the most part,this type of assistance tends to be ad hoc innature with little donor country coordination.Separate police forces may often be operatingwithin the same country without this beingreadily apparent. In the UK, for instance, thereis no central coordination of assistance to coun-tries of the former Soviet Union.4

In attempting to understand the motivatingfactor behind many assistance initiatives, oneshould not underestimate the philanthropicactivities of individual police officers who mayhave visited a particular country on holiday orperhaps through the work of representativeorganisations such as the International PoliceAssociation. Certainly “helping fellow policeofficers” is a recurring theme and thereforeplays an important role. This phenomenon canalso be partly explained by the increasing com-mercialisation of policing and the opportunitiesavailable to “sell” services by responding togovernment agency requests or by proactivelyproposing types of assistance that could bemade available.5

The problem with many of these forms of

237

Beck

assistance is that they tend to be small in scaleand highly localised, with few opportunities forbroader dissemination. They also suffer to acertain extent from the “we have this availableso you can have it” approach. Potential recipi-ents with very few resources are highly unlike-ly to refuse any offer, but there is a real dangerwith this approach that the agenda for assis-tance is set more by what is available ratherthan by what is needed.

2. EXPORTING POLICINGIn recent years academics and police practition-ers, particularly from the US and the UK, haveadvocated a model of policing based upon theirown experiences of what is usually described as“community policing”. Definitions vary consid-erably as to exactly what this term means,although a commonly agreed theme is thedevelopment of “a new kind of relationshipbetween the police and the public” based uponclose consultation and cooperation.6 How thisis brought about and sustained is far more opento debate. Some of the much heralded commu-nity policing initiatives such as “neighbourhoodwatch” have been found wanting when rigor-ously evaluated in terms of their actual impacton levels of crime and the fear of crime.7

Indeed, suggestions that a policing systemcan be imported from one country to anotherare often based on a rather rose-tinted view ofthe quality and effectiveness of the given sys-tem. Unfortunately, representatives from theUS and the UK are particularly guilty of thisapproach, especially regarding ideas concern-ing community policing. As Brogden neatlysummarises:

“There is almost a unilinear perception ofpolice development … a process occurringlargely independently of local policingmandates, cultures and patterns of organisa-tion. What appeared to offer promise insmall-town America, and in the prosperouswhite suburbs, is being exported by a newbrand of academic and police salespeo-ple…”8

Certainly advocates of the community policingphilosophy have not been slow in advancingthe apparent value of “their” way of policingsocieties to countries experiencing transition –it has become almost a mantra to be chanted aspart of any presentation to policymakers andpolice practitioners. Without doubt the funda-

mental aspect of community policing, namelythe provision of policing which is sensitive tothe needs of the local community through trans-parent and “human rights friendly” methods,are difficult to criticise. However, as with manyinitiatives, the devil is in the detail and many“community policing” strategies have failedbecause the realisation of the idea is often moredifficult than its conception.

In addition, if levels of crime are an indicatorof the “success” of Western models of policing,then their pedigree is at best questionable.Reported crime in England and Wales has morethan doubled in the past ten years, and is 10times higher than it was in 1950. Burglary andassaults increased by 73% between 1981 and1995, and studies like the British CrimeSurveys suggest that the real level of crimemight be as high as 16 million crimes commit-ted a year, with annual spending on the crimi-nal justice system now exceeding £10 billion.9

Similar problems can be seen in the US withconsistently high rates of murder and gun-relat-ed offences and the highest incarceration rate inthe world.10 While it would be disingenuous tosuggest that high and increasing levels of crimeare directly correlated to adopted models ofpolicing, or indeed that the police are in someway responsible for it, as an “advert” for over-seas “sales”, some would argue that the productis yet to fully prove its worth.

3. CONTEXT AND COLLABORATIONCritical to successful international assistance isa thorough understanding of the context withinwhich the aid is to be provided. Without a com-plete grasp of the context within which anyform of help might take place, interventions arelikely to be misconstrued, mismanaged andultimately meaningless.

Understanding context requires the acquisi-tion of knowledge at a number of different lev-els. Potential providers need a complete graspof the current social, economic and politicalmilieu within which they will be operating.They also need institutional level informationfocusing on the current structure of the police,its culture, practices and procedures, and theresources available to them. There is also aneed to fully understand the historical frame-work within which recent change has takenplace and how the potential recipient of assis-tance has grown over time. For example, many

238

Beck

of the police forces of the former Soviet Unionare severely under resourced – some policeofficers patrol without radios, officers in carsare often unable to respond to calls for assis-tance because of a lack of petrol and investigat-ing officers rarely have access to modern foren-sic equipment such as DNA testing facilities.Virtually all police workers receive a statewage that rarely covers the costs of living.11

The offer therefore of a week-long seminaron the use of DNA evidence in a court of lawwill undoubtedly be readily accepted but inreality its impact will at best be marginal. Thevast majority of police officers participating insuch a seminar will not have the necessaryequipment, while significant differences in themechanics of the provider and recipient crimi-nal justice systems will render most of theinformation interesting, but largely irrelevant.

Understanding context requires time andresearch, but also needs close collaborationwith colleagues in the recipient country.Successful international assistance should bepremised upon a close working relationshipwith those targeted to receive it. Decidingwhom this should be and recognising wherethey currently operate and at what level withinan organisation, are clearly highly dependentupon the nature of the proposed assistance.Such factors will have a dramatic effect on thenature and outcome of any collaboration. Forexample, while police officer-to-police officercontact may facilitate a good working relation-ship on matters of mutual interest concerningparticular criminal incidents, it is unlikely toimpact upon the strategic policy of each policeforce in formulating protocols for future assis-tance. Providers therefore need to forge linkswith contacts in appropriate organisations withthe requisite authority to deliver the specifiedaims of the intended assistance.

4. A CASE STUDY IN INTERNATIONAL ASSISTANCEIn 2000, a three-year project aimed at introduc-ing context-driven community policing inUkraine was initiated. It was based upon aphased approach that sought to maximise suc-cess through a clear understanding of contextand the development of concrete collaboration.The three phases were: • understanding the context• implementing experimental schemes• evaluation.

Based in two police districts in the city ofKharkiv, the project sought to investigate waysin which the guiding principles of communitypolicing could be used to inform police reform.The first phase of the project was devoted tounderstanding the context within which the pro-ject team would be operating. This phase lastedone year. As part of the project, public surveyswere performed in each of the participatingareas to determine current views on crime andpolicing and expectations for the future.Surveys soliciting the views of all police offi-cers working in the areas were also performed.In addition, in-depth interviews were carriedout with a random selection of police officersand members of the public in order to obtainmore detailed information on attitudes to crimeand policing.12 The research team also collect-ed demographic information on each of the par-ticipating areas as well as all the crime datacurrently available (including data for theregion).

Because one of the key objectives of the pro-ject was to initiate change in the way the policeforce was organised and operated, various lev-els of collaboration were vital to the success ofthe next phase of the project, namely “schemeimplementation”. Collaboration occurred atfour different levels: Minister of Interior levelin order to receive “political” permission toenable experimental restructuring of the policeto take place; Chief of Police for the Regionlevel to sanction the specific schemes beingproposed; Chiefs of the Participating Districtsin order to facilitate the implementation of theschemes; and academics and trainers at theUniversity of Kharkiv to perform the context-specific research and design and to deliver thenecessary training programmes, to help get theproposed schemes “off the ground”, and tomonitor their progress.

The final phase of the project is an evaluationperiod when the lessons of the project can belearnt and any successful practices disseminat-ed to as broad an audience as possible. Onceagain the multi-layered collaborative frame-work will play an important role in this process– the Chief of Police for the local region andthe Minister of the Interior nationally.

While the design of the project is perhaps notnew, it has sought to follow a number of keyprinciples. The project was initiated by acade-mics at the University of Kharkiv approaching

239

Beck

academics in the UK with the original idea. Theproject was firmly rooted in a thorough under-standing of the context, which then guided thesecond phase of experimentation and imple-mentation. It made use of the experiences ofUK police forces more as a means of offeringguiding principles, innovative practices, andlessons learnt in practical application, ratherthan a model to be uniformly adopted. Finally,it recognised the need to seek collaboration atdifferent levels if the project was to have anychance of success.

CONCLUSIONInternational assistance for crime fighting andpolicing is a complex issue. There are now asignificant number of providers, ranging fromgovernmental organisations to individual policeofficers, operating in the international sphere.Little is known about precisely who is doingwhat and where. Coordination within donorcountries is at best partial and is virtually non-existent between countries. The rationale forsuch work ranges from political determinism tothe pragmatics of policing an increasingly“open” world.

Determining the success of these activities to

date is extremely difficult and few completedstudies have sought to “measure” the impact ofsuch work. What is important to recognise isthat assistance should fulfil a recipient’s specif-ic need and may not necessarily coincide withwhat providers simply have available to offer.It should also operate with a clear understand-ing of the context within the country that isbeing offered help. This requires that fundingagencies recognise the need for research to bean integral part of any assistance proposal. Ifthis issue is not recognised, good intentionsmay well flounder on ignorance and inaccura-cy.

Finally, those providing help need to workclosely with local collaborators in order toenable programmes to be self-sustaining andcapable of being disseminated to as wide anaudience as possible. Accountable and transpar-ent policing that recognises the importance ofhuman rights for all groups in society is anideal that all countries should strive to achieve.This goal can be brought closer through well-organised, sensitive and appropriate coopera-tion and assistance. The international communi-ty should see this as a key priority for the newcentury.

240

Beck

1) The term transitional is used here to repre-sent those countries that have experiencedrapid social, political and economic changealthough it is recognised that this interpre-tation is open to debate.

2) An example would be the “GoodGovernment” initiative that was part of theUK’s Department for InternationalDevelopment’s Know How Fund.

3) Travis, J. (1998) Policing in transition,Security Journal, Vol. 11, Nos. 2-3,pp.151-154.

4) This is partly a function of the decen-tralised nature of the police in the UK andthe ability of each force to develop its ownoverseas contacts without necessarily seek-ing permission from the Home Office.

5) Two examples from the UK of this is theThames Valley Police that now have aIncome Generation Unit designed to raisefunds through training, consultancy anddonations, and the Hendon Police TrainingCollege which is involved in a long-termproject funded by the Department forInternational Development to providetraining and study visits for police officersstudying at the Police University in StPetersburg, Russia.

6) Skolnick, J. and Bayley, D. (1987) Themeand Variation in Community Policing, inM. Tonry and N. Morris (eds) Crime and

Justice: A Biannual Review of Research,Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

7) Laycock, G. and Tilley, N. (1995) Policingand Neighbourhood Watch: StrategicIssues, Crime Detection and PreventionSeries Paper No. 60, London: HomeOffice.

8) Brogden, M. (1999) Community Policingas Cherry Pie, in R. Mawby (ed), Policing

Across the World, UCL Press: London.9) Crawford, A. (1998) Crime Prevention and

Community Safety: Politics, Policies and

Practices, Longman: London.10) Cavadino, M. and Dignan, J. (1997) The

Penal System: An Introduction, Sage:London.

11) See Shelley, L. (1999) Post-SocialistPolicing: Limitations on InstitutionalChange, in R. Mawby (ed), Policing

Across the World, UCL Press: London.12) A report from this work is available in

electronic format by contacting the authorvia email at bna@le.ac.uk.

ENDNOTES

INTRODUCTIONEx-communist East European countries,including the states comprising the formerUnion of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR),face many similar problems and tasks concern-ing the issue of criminal justice, among others.It would therefore be logical to assume thatthese countries – belonging to one large geo-graphical region and possessing extensive com-mon historical backgrounds – would not onlyhave arrived at many similar responses to exist-ing challenges, but would have also undertakenjoint regional initiatives.

Among the shared challenges concerning thefight against crime in East European statesexperiencing transition, the following onesshould be mentioned:• Institution building and/or restructuring, and

in particular, adaptation to the post-commu-nist environment. This usually presupposesreal or at least formal democratisation of theministry of interior, security service, officeof the Attorney General, investigation units,courts, penitentiary system, etc.

• Changing the outdated regulative base anddeveloping a coherent body of laws, relevantby-laws and other regulations governingpolice work and other related functions. Thiswould include, for example, establishingclear and transparent standards for policing.

• Preparing to combat international crime andnew types of crime, for example, moneylaundering, drug trafficking, terrorism, enlist-ment and export of mercenaries, contractedkillers and racketeers services, trade of peo-ple (illegal emigrants, including modernslave workers), the sex-for-sale industry

(especially trade in women), trade in childrenand human organs, various forms of trade instolen goods (especially cars and culturalrelics) and computer crime.

• Perfecting the institution of extradition, etc.

1. CORRUPTION AND DECLINE OF POST-COMMUNIST PUBLIC SERVICESThe past decade has seen a decline in the quali-ty of public service work in a number of post-communist countries. This has been largely dueto the general degeneration of many socialinstitutions. Criminals are often much betterequipped, trained and organised, includinginternationally, than the state is. The scarcityand mismanagement of state resources (in par-ticular, low salaries and salaries arrears) haveforced a great number of experts in policing toresign. In addition, the future generation ofpublic servants has been discouraged or dis-suaded from pursuing careers in policing.Rampant corruption has led to the intermin-gling of “pure” criminal circles and the authori-ties at various levels. This corruption, to a con-siderable extent, prevents many post-commu-nist countries from implementing effectiveinternational initiatives in some spheres. Areasthat are particularly affected are the fightagainst money laundering and the detection offraud committed by the corrupt elite.

2. EASTERN EUROPE AS A UNITED REGION?It is debatable whether Eastern Europe, or theex-USSR, even exists as a united region. Thereis no doubt that this political and socio-eco-nomic region existed during communist(socialist) rule when there existed rigid region-

241

Attempts at Regional Response to Crimein the Ex-USSR and Eastern Europe

Valentin Yakushik

242

Yakushik

al infrastructures and superstructures, onemajor centre of power and a whole set of coor-dination and subordination ties, including with-in the sphere of criminal justice. The ex-com-munist countries have, however, all chosen dif-ferent paths of development, often with dissim-ilar economic, political and cultural trajectories.It would therefore be true to say that, in EasternEurope, there is a common criminality, but nounified approach to criminal justice practices.Most of the old traditional institutional ties arebroken or significantly weakened, however, thenew ones are only emerging or are even stillwaiting to appear.

The Commonwealth of Independent States(CIS), a loosely based institution, plays a dualpolitical role. Firstly, it acts as a mechanism fora “civilised divorce” of the former Sovietrepublics. Secondly, it is an instrument formanaging regional problems. Both functionsare not very effective and often remain ratherformal. The major CIS institutions involved incriminal justice are: the Council of Ministers ofthe Interior (of CIS countries); the anti-terroristcentre and the centres for bilateral cooperationwithin the relevant law enforcement agencies ofeach CIS member country.

Irrespective of the rupture of old ties and thelack or weakness of new ones, the commonregional problems facing neighbouring EasternEuropean countries, as well as pressing globalissues, are forcing governments to seek cooper-ative and concerted solutions. In the absence ofan actual common regional centre (or centres),these actions are usually organised eitheraround the activities of universal internationalorganisations – especially via the NationalBureau of Interpol and the United Nations spe-cial programmes and projects – or via pan-European organisations, for example, theCouncil of Europe and the Organisation forSecurity and Cooperation in Europe. This lastorganisation has been particularly instrumentalin adapting national legislation and institutionsto European standards. Many similar mecha-nisms function on the basis of agreementsbetween the European Union (EU) (and itsmember states) and individual East Europeancountries.

3. THE VALUE OF INTERNATIONAL ASSISTANCEAn interesting mechanism for establishingcommon positions and developing regional ties

between East European nations is created byinternational symposiums (conferences, semi-nars, training courses, etc.), conducted or spon-sored by international donor organisations.There exists an absence of adequate internalresources within relevant post-communist stateinstitutions, as well as a lack of interest on thepart of available possible internal donors. Thisis particularly true of powerful and wealthyoligarchic structures, the respective nationalfoundations and influential political parties. Inresponse to this lack of resources, Westerndonors have adopted the role of the state,national bureaucracies and political elites. Thisis especially true in the case of creating andmaintaining forums for the discussion of press-ing issues and establishing possible effectiveregional responses to them.

The most significant role in this respect isplayed by the USAID, EU TACIS and PHAREprogrammes, the British Council, the CanadianInternational Development Agency (CIDA),similar Dutch and German agencies and pro-grammes, and by international financial institu-tions, including the World Bank, InternationalMonetary Fund and the EBRD.

It is interesting to note that most of the for-mer Soviet republics underestimate the extentof the positive potential of programmes pro-posed by India (via its Ministry of ForeignAffairs ITEC scheme) and Taiwan (through anumber of channels). This attitude demon-strates a rather primitive understanding of thepro-Western orientation adopted by the majori-ty of these new independent states, and theirnaïve Euro-centrism. In many cases, this Euro-centric approach is due to the inexperience ofsenior civil servants with regard to, for exam-ple, an understanding of Taiwan’s real statusand its huge capacity for providing advise,training and financial assistance. There is also alack of recognition of the necessity for diversi-fication of sources of technical and other kindsof donor assistance and partnerships with bilat-eral cooperation.

4. COOPERATION BETWEEN EAST EUROPEANCOUNTRIESWith regard to the intensity and effectivenessof bilateral cooperation between East Europeancountries, Ukrainian Interpol experts stress thatthe most effective is the relationship betweenUkraine and Poland, Hungary, Moldova and

243

Yakushik

Slovakia and, quite surprisingly, not Russia.Unofficially, Russia as a state is accused ofbehaving in a rather arrogant fashion, andallegedly has little interest in real coordinationof policing efforts. This is despite the fact that,at a personal professional level, Russia is themajor reference for international experience forthe majority of public servants in Ukraine andthe rest of the former Soviet republics.

The active role played by Poland in manyUkrainian reform programmes, including thatof criminal justice, may be explained by severalmajor factors: • The personal interest of the intellectual and

organisational leadership of Poland in theimplementation of a radical administrativeand general institutional reform withinUkraine.

• Clear understanding by the Polish establish-ment and political elite of the role of Ukrainein its national security.

• Close historical ties of various forms andwith various implications.

• Relevant encouragement of Poland by itsWestern partners.

Polish experts have been used in a number ofprojects, in particular EU TACIS projects, as anadditional “bridge” between the EU and theWest in general and Ukraine. They have a goodunderstanding of the local conditions, the lan-guage and people’s attitudes. United States(US) political and cultural actors (not only theState Department, but also George Soros) pro-mote Poland’s role by supporting bilateralPolish–Ukrainian projects. It is symptomaticthat, at a civil institutional level, George Soroshas attempted, via his foundations, to promote asimilar leading role for Ukraine in Byelo-russia’s reform.

Following the collapse of the USSR at theend of 1991, Turkey was encouraged by theWest to adopt a leading role in relations withCentral Asian and Caucasian post-Sovietrepublics, since these countries are ethnicallyand linguistically quite similar to Turkey. Theintention was that Turkey would, to someextent, replace the traditional role of theRussian Federation there.

However, the exercise was not altogethersuccessful, and Russia remains culturally andinfrastructurally much stronger than Turkey inthese regions. It would seem that Turkey hasoverestimated its role and was unable to take

into account the major peculiarities of localpolitical conditions.

5. THE ROLE OF RUSSIAThe role of Russia in regional cooperationbetween ex-Soviet states deserves special atten-tion. After 1991, Russia’s new political eliteimplemented a specific set of policies towardsother former Soviet republics. These policieshave combined some fairly incompatible ele-ments, including: • the remnants of a traditional imperial approach • self-imposed isolationism• cultural and political servilism towards some

political trends, while ignoring core nationalinterests and the norms of political moral.One of these actions, on a broader, interna-tional scale, was revealed by the disclosure tothe then apartheid South African authorities,the sensitive and confidential informationregarding African National Congress (ANC)relations with the USSR

• the virtual dismantling of the country’s inter-nal potential to cooperate with other post-Soviet states.

A strong post-imperial syndrome exists at topgovernment levels within the majority of post-Soviet countries, with the possible exception ofByelorussia, Kyrghyzstan and Tajikistan. This– combined with the conscious or subconscioustendency of the main Western partners to limit,and sometimes even marginalise, Russia’spolitical and cultural role on the post-Sovietspace – are the additional factors contributingto post-imperial convulsions among some cir-cles of Russia’s elite, and their homologues inthe rest of the ex-USSR. Both extremes arecounterproductive to each individual post-Soviet country, to the region, and to the worldin general. Under these conditions, a dynamicand effective post-Soviet empire will not beviable, and attempts to create it may becomequite dangerous.

Conversely, attempts to marginalise Russiaand to limit its cultural and organisational rolein the post-Soviet Northern Eurasia are histori-cally doomed to failure, besides also beingsomewhat dangerous and destructive.

CONCLUSIONThe future of regional cooperation in EasternEurope depends mostly on the evolution of thestates in this geographic area, and, to some

244

Yakushik

extent, on the reassessment of the effectivenessof international assistance to these countries. Inconclusion, with reference to these issues, thefollowing questions can be raised: How wasTaiwan able to utilise US assistance so effi-ciently in the 1950s and 1960s? How wasPoland able to drastically transform its politi-cal and socio-economic structures in the 1990s?Why is contemporary democratic South Africaexhibiting vivid signs of further progress withina multiracial and multicultural society? Con-versely, why have a number of post-Soviet

states been wasting, not only billions of USdollars worth of international assistance, butalso the opportunity to become real actors inregional and global politics, including thesphere of criminal justice? Why do these coun-tries so often remain simply terrains for theimplementation of other actors’ programmes?

These questions are among the many thatneed to be addressed urgently and followed upwith dynamic action on the part of both thepost-communist governments and public, andthe international community.

INTRODUCTIONThe Southern African Development Com-munity (SADC) is made up of 14 memberstates. They fall into the category of developingand least developed countries in which cash-strapped police agencies are finding it difficultto fulfill many of the basic policing functionsthat developed countries would take for grant-ed. The different political, constitutional andeconomic policies and programmes that are inplace within the SADC member states make itclear that the region is far from homogeneous.In Angola, a civil war has been waged fordecades. Malawi is struggling to move from anauthoritarian one-party state towards a moreopen democratic society. Zimbabwe is trying toward off mounting internal security problemsand an economic collapse, while South Africaand Botswana enjoy relative stability withindemocratic systems. Depending on the defini-tion of “transition” that is applied, all of thesecountries are experiencing one form of transi-tion or another, even if the transition in someSouthern African countries is not necessarilydirected towards a more open democratic sys-tem or economic market economy. The word“transition” does in fact become a misnomer ifit is used to describe any phase of political,social or economic change. More thoughtneeds to be given towards developing a defini-tion of “transition” that can be used as a guide-line for those who wish to examine its impacton crime and policing.

As a result of the significant differencesbetween states in Southern Africa, internationalinitiatives to assist policing in the region haveconsisted largely of targeted bilateral assistance

programmes. Donor countries tend to supportthose countries with policing projects that havethe most pressing needs and that they can polit-ically afford to engage with. There is a realisa-tion that besides the lack of resources, thosecountries that are undergoing a transition areexperiencing the added strain caused by theweakening of state structures and insecurityabout the future. This merely adds to thealready enormous pressure under which suchstructures operate as a result of a lack ofresources. In the area of policing, which is cru-cial to managing a transition, this is particularlypronounced.

In Malawi, for example, the 5000-strongMalawi Police Service is recruiting and train-ing an additional 3000 members following anoutcry from the public about crime that hasreached uncontrollable levels. Under the pre-1994 one-party rule of President Banda, crimessuch as armed robbery were highly unusualoccurrences. During those years the often-feared paramilitary Malawi Young Pioneersand the civilian Malawi Youth Leaguers assist-ed the police to keep order. Their disbandon-ment and demise subsequent to the country’sdemocratisation in 1994 is regarded by many inMalawi as having created a vacuum whichcriminals have exploited, resulting in steepincreases in crimes such as armed robbery,murder, car-jacking and drug dealing.Firearms, including assault rifles such as theAK-47s are now readily available and are fre-quently used by criminals. A police spokesmanhas explained away the unacceptable levels ofcrime as a sign of development.

Moçambique, which is one of the poorest

245

International and Regional Initiatives:Southern Africa Region

Peter Gastrow

246

Gastrow

counties in the world, emerged from a destruc-tive civil war in the early 1990s with its infra-structure and economy in tatters. There was astage when the Moçambique Police had threemotor vehicles available to police its capitalMaputo, a city of two million people. Althoughthey are now better equipped, the Moçambiquepolice remain seriously under-resourced in theface of a steep rise in crimes such as armed rob-bery, motor vehicle theft and drug trafficking.

The long conflict in Moçambique, and theongoing civil war in Angola and the Demo-cratic Republic of the Congo, contributed to amassive proliferation of small arms in theSouthern African region. This has had a pro-nounced impact on crime patterns with whichevery country in the region is now struggling.The frequent use of firearms when committingviolent crimes is a phenomenon that is beingexperienced in most Southern African coun-tries. All these countries have also experiencedincreases in organised criminal activities.

It is against this brief background that the rel-evance and impact of international and regionalinitiatives relating to crime and policing shouldbe assessed. I will not refer to the bilateraldevelopment and assistance programmes thatgovernments and their agencies from the devel-oped world have in place with SouthernAfrican police agencies. Many of these areaimed at police reform and training. Nor will Irefer to the work done by international agenciessuch as the United Nations (UN) Office forDrug Control and Crime Prevention, as theirefforts have already been referred to at this con-ference. Instead, I will confine myself to oneglobal initiative that could have an impact oncrime and policing in Southern African states,and on one regional initiative that has emergedfrom within the region.

1. INTERNATIONAL INITIATIVE: THE DRAFT UNCONVENTION AGAINST TRANSNATIONALORGANISED CRIMEAt the international level, 121 member states ofthe UN recently unanimously approved the textof a draft UN Convention against TransnationalOrganised Crime. Representatives from a num-ber of Southern African states were present atthe meeting. Although this UN draft conventionstill has to be adopted by the UN GeneralAssembly, and thereafter signed and acceded toby governments before it comes into effect, its

text gives an indication of what is soon to be aglobal “law” against transnational organisedcrime.

The draft convention aims to promote inter-national cooperation to prevent and combattransnational organised crime more effectively.It creates offences such as participating in anorganised criminal group and the laundering ofcriminal proceeds. It provides for the confisca-tion and seizure of proceeds of crime. It con-tains measures dealing with extradition, mutuallegal assistance, joint police investigations, spe-cial investigative techniques, witness protec-tion, cooperation between law enforcementagencies, and training and technical assistance.

While the draft convention constitutes themost significant global response to transnation-al organised crime to date, the question needsto be asked what its impact will be on policingand crime in the developing and least devel-oped states of Southern Africa once their gov-ernments accede to it. The draft convention wassponsored and shaped primarily by developedstates. For understandable reasons they broughttheir resources and expertise to the negotiationprocess to ensure that their needs relating to thecombating of transnational organised crime aremet as far as possible. It is common cause thatmany of the poor countries of the world willfind it very difficult to live up to the require-ments of the convention because of a lack ofresources. And yet, those poorer countries haveindicated that they intend to do everything pos-sible to implement it, as it will assist their fightagainst transnational organised crime. Theadded carrot that the draft convention offers isinternational assistance to poorer countries toenable them to comply with and implement theconvention.

For developed and some developing coun-tries such as South Africa, the fight againsttransnational organised crime is very high onthe policing agenda. They will make the neces-sary legislative changes and resource alloca-tions to live up to and benefit from the conven-tion. However, the question needs to be askedwhether some of the very poor SouthernAfrican states can afford to deflect scarceresources that are available for conventionalpolicing towards complying with the conven-tion when domestic policing is in crisis andlocal crime levels are unacceptably high.

It will therefore be incumbent on developed

247

Gastrow

countries that want to utilise the convention toaddress their own domestic crime and policingneeds to provide significant assistance to manydeveloping and least developed states to enablethem to implement the convention. Unless thishappens, those countries in Southern Africathat face a policing crisis during their transitionperiods could have their problems exacerbatedby directing scarce resources towards initiativesthat are likely to be of greater benefit to devel-oped countries than to Southern African statesin transition. The danger therefore exists thatinternational initiatives such as the new con-vention could further widen the gap betweenthe developed and developing countries. A newform of “global order” in the area of crime pre-vention and combating, driven by well-resourced countries, could result in developingcountries focusing on assistance programmesthat further the policing interests of developedcountries more than their own.

2. REGIONAL INITIATIVE: SOUTHERN AFRICANREGIONAL POLICE CHIEFS COOPERATIONORGANISATION (SARPCCO) This organisation was established in 1995 at theinitiative of the chiefs of police from 11Southern African countries. It was motivatedprimarily by the escalation of cross-bordercriminal activity in the region. The 11 policechiefs met on 1 August 1995 in Victoria Falls,Zimbabwe, and agreed to form SARPCCO. On2 August 1995 the government ministersresponsible for policing in the 11 states adoptedthe police chiefs’ recommendations. It was alsoagreed that an Interpol Sub-Regional Bureaushould be established in Harare and that itshould become the Secretariat for SARPCCO.

Article 3 of the SARPCCO Constitutionspells out the objectives of the organisation.Some of these are:(a) To promote, strengthen and perpetuate co-

operation and foster joint strategies for themanagement of all forms of cross-borderand related crimes with regional implica-tions,

(b) To prepare and disseminate relevant infor-mation on criminal activities as may be nec-essary to benefit members to contain crimein the region,

(c) To carry out regular reviews of joint crimemanagement strategies in view of changingnational and regional needs and priorities,

(d) To ensure efficient operation and manage-ment of criminal proceeds recovered andthe effective joint monitoring of cross-bor-der crime taking full advantage of the rele-vant facilities available through Interpol,

(e) To make relevant recommendations to gov-ernments of member countries in relation tomatters affecting policing in the SouthernAfrican region,

(f) To formulate systematic regional policetraining policies and strategies taking intoaccount the needs and performance requiredof the regional police services/forces,

(g) To carry out any such relevant and appro-priate acts and strategies for the purposes ofpromoting regional police cooperation andcollaboration as regional circumstances mayrequire.

Following the adoption of the SARPCCOConstitution, an “Agreement in respect of Co-operation and Mutual Assistance in the Fieldsof Crime Combating” was signed in Harare on1 October 1997 by Angola, Botswana, Lesotho,Malawi, Moçambique, Namibia, South Africa,Swaziland, Tanzania, Zambia and Zimbabwe.This agreement is in effect and has facilitatedthe exchange of crime intelligence, evidenceand expert investigators.

The SARPCCO police chiefs set about iden-tifying a number of priority crimes in theregion. Two of the key ones were motor vehiclethefts and trafficking in firearms. They con-cluded that murder, car-jackings, bank rob-beries, general lawlessness and banditry hadexperienced a major escalation in the regionand that the flood of illegal weapons had con-tributed significantly to the escalation of thesecrimes. Since its establishment, SARPCCO hasorganised a number of joint operations in dif-ferent countries of Southern Africa aimed pri-marily at the illicit cross-border trade in stolenvehicles. Hundreds of stolen vehicles have beenretrieved and arrests made. The advantage ofjoint regional operations versus actions takenby the police agency of one specific countryonly, lie in the benefit of pooled resources.Crime intelligence from different countries ispooled, joint operations can succeed because oflocal knowledge of the environment by a com-ponent of the operation and, where necessary,hi-tech communication and other equipmentcan be provided by those countries that canafford it such as South Africa.

248

Gastrow

A series of joint cross-border operationsorganised by SARPCCO have also been aimedat the illicit trade in firearms. In addition tocontributing significantly to violent crime in theregion, illicit firearms are used as a medium ofexchange for illicit drugs, stolen motor vehi-cles, diamonds and other goods. Large firearmscaches have been located and destroyed inMoçambique and many illicit firearms seized inother parts of the region. SARPCCO has alsoplayed a pivotal role in drafting a SADCProtocol on Firearms and Ammunition. Thisprotocol, once adopted by the SADC Summit,will contribute towards curbing the prolifera-tion of arms in the region and thereby assistingSouthern African police agencies in their task.

SARPCCO has also been responsible – oftenwith assistance from donor countries or the UNOffice for Drug Control and Crime Prevention– for organising joint training courses for mem-bers of their police agencies ranging from man-agement issues to detective training and bordercontrol.

CONCLUSIONCountries in the developing world areinevitably the hardest hit by the dislocation andnew pressures that arise from political and eco-nomic transition. They are also least able torely on their own resources to successfullyovercome transitional problems. This applies topolicing as much as it applies to developmentalissues. International assistance therefore plays acrucial role, also as far as policing is concerned,in assisting developing countries to overcometransitional problems. However, such relianceexposes developing countries to some poten-tially negative consequences.

One of them is that the assistance provided,or the international initiative undertaken, mightnot necessarily be designed primarily to meetthe needs of the country concerned effectively:that is, the needs as its government and citizensmight perceive them. Global criteria, that areoften more in line with the needs of developedcountries, have a strong influence on the natureof the assistance that is provided by internation-al programmes. The developed world – oftenthe driving force behind bilateral and multilat-eral assistance programmes and internationalinitiatives such as the new Convention againstTransnational Organised Crime – is thereforeincreasingly playing a role in impacting on the

domestic policing policies of developing coun-tries. It does so by ensuring that the activities ofdomestic police agencies also address globalneeds or the needs of developed countries. Thisis also likely to happen in some SouthernAfrican states.

A further potentially negative consequenceflows from the first. A poor developing countrymight have no option but to accept internationalassistance, or become part of an internationalinitiative, even though some of its policing pri-orities might have to be diverted towardsaspects that serve global interests rather thanimmediate domestic ones.

Again to use Moçambique as an example: theMoçambique police have confiscated largequantities of narcotics smuggled into the coun-try from the East. That country is an insignifi-cant consumer of illicit drugs but it is a knowntransit country. It must therefore be assumedthat the seized drugs were in transit and on theirway to the wealthy consumer markets ofEurope and other more developed states. Forthe target countries, the activities of the crimi-nal group in Moçambique that was responsiblefor the trafficking of the drugs constitute a seri-ous threat, but not necessarily so for Moçam-bique. In terms of its domestic policing priori-ties or the national interests of Moçambique,that country may well regard the activities ofthe drug smugglers as less dangerous than, forexample, the criminal groups that are responsi-ble for wide-scale motor vehicle theft in thatcountry.

Should Moçambique accede to the new UNConvention against Transnational OrganisedCrime, its international obligations may wellrequire it to allocate more of its scarce policingresources to combat international drug traffick-ing than it would have done if domestic polic-ing priorities had been the criteria. Should thishappen, it is likely to impact negatively on theability of law enforcement to police the transi-tion effectively. Although developing countriesare dependent on international assistance, andalthough it is normally in their interest tobecome part of international instruments suchas the new convention, the resultant new rela-tionships and obligations come with mixedblessings. The increasing dependency on donorfunding as well as the problem of sustainingsuch programmes in the longer term are someof the inevitable negative consequences flow-

249

Gastrow

ing from international assistance to developingcountries.

The domestic policing needs of poorer coun-tries, particularly those undergoing a transition,therefore need to be uppermost in the minds ofall the parties concerned. It would appear that awell thought out regional initiative, such as

SARPCCO, carries fewer risks and is morelikely to address such needs. If developed coun-tries could strengthen such regional initiatives,their contributions are more likely to assist thepolice in coping with crime in transition thanwould be the case with some of the ad hocbilateral assistance programmes.