Arrested on scores of charges from murder to terrorism, high treason, the Internal Security Act – even 12 charges of malicious damage to property, the members of an elite uMkhonto we Sizwe unit based in Mamelodi had been operating underground for an unprecedented 10 months before their arrest in April 1987.
But they refused to mount a defence, because to have done so would have been to legitimise the court case – and the state – and acknowledge their actions in the resistance to apartheid had been criminal. It was left to their lawyer, Peter Harris, to find a way of guarding their principles – and save them from the gallows.
His book, In a Different Time is the true story, albeit one written like a blockbuster thriller, of the Delmas four and their times, just as the entire edifice of the apartheid state began imploding. The book has been well received, something that’s taken the modest former human rights lawyer a little by surprise, but something nonetheless that’s given him a warm glow of satisfaction.
“A lot of people have said it was quite uplifting, taking them back to a time when people still believed anything was possible, a time when there was hope and high ideals.
Harris, who studied law at Rhodes University, was brought up in a firmly non-racial family in Port Elizabeth. It was as a first-year law student that he had his epiphany, entrenching those principles, when he read Nelson Mandela’s statement from the dock as Mandela faced the death penalty.
On graduation, he moved to Johannesburg where he did his articles after working at the Legal Resources Centre with Arthur Chaskalson, who would become the first president of the constitutional court and later chief justice.
He and another Michaelhouse old boy turned lawyer, Fink Haysom, along with Halton Cheadle and Clive Thompson, recognised though that more needed to be done so they formed Cheadle, Thompson and Haysom in the mid-80s.
“We wanted to start a big hitting firm that would specialise in resistance cases. Things were moving fast. We’d all come from big firms and we were practising serious law.
“Looking back, some people might think the times were ‘chilling, menacing or even exciting’, but at the time it just seemed endless. It was hectic.”
The Delmas Four was just one of Harris’ cases. At the time he had three or four on the go simultaneously. He was also drawing up papers in other matters and preparing urgent interdicts against the police, but it stood out for so many reasons. “It was an extraordinary story, a circle within circles, drawing in people like Chris Hani, Thabo Mbeki and Jacob Zuma, but that’s the thing with South Africa, everything always connects.”
And his clients were extraordinary too. “They were ordinary guys, really nice guys and you can’t say that about all your clients. They had a quiet courage about them, a determination,” he remembered this week. “They didn’t become cabinet ministers or directors-general after liberation and they turned down senior positions in the SANDF.
“They said they’d had enough of war and just wanted to get on with their lives in the society that they’d fought for.”
The atmosphere in court was another thing that still stands out in Harris’ mind.
“A death sentence case is a heavy thing, it’s a blanket that hangs over the entire court smothering everything. It’s a coldness that goes straight to the bone.”
The police were obstructive and hostile, the prosecutors were something else altogether.
“They thought you were the enemy, they wanted the guys to hang. This wasn’t a job for them, it was their mission, their passion.”
Masina, Masango, Potsane and Makhura’s decision not to put a defence made the case open and shut. “That was it,” he said, “they would be sentenced to death, there was no defence, only one way to go.”
The four refused to do anything that would save their lives without the official sanction of the MK high command and the ANC executive. Harris would fly backwards and forwards to Lusaka, meeting Chris Hani, he would also see Govan Mbeki in Port Elizabeth. At first it was to inform them of the four’s stand, later it was to get the ANC’s permission to take the death sentence on appeal.
“The way the judge (Marius de Klerk) turned, accepting our extenuation case that they had been soldiers involved in a war was unprecedented in South African legal history. The way his two assessors then outvoted him was just as unprecedented.”
Just as unique was the fact that the four were able to stand in court on the day of sentencing clad in full MK combat uniform, as soldiers of a liberation army – something that had never been seen before in SA.
Masina, Masango and Potsane were sentenced to death and sent to death row in Pretoria, Makhura was sent to Robben Island. On death row, the three would meet Almond Nofomela, the police death squad killer from Vlakplaas. As activists Anton Lubowski, David Webster and lawyer Griffiths Mxenge were murdered by state assassins, it would prove to be a fortuitous link.
Those who remember their recent history will remember that Nofomela made a death cell confession that ripped open the hitherto secret can of worms that had been the regime’s death machine; how Nofomela’s former commander, police captain Dirk Coetzee defected to the ANC; how State President FW de Klerk set up the Harms commission to investigate the allegations, just before he unbanned the ANC and freed ANC leaders, chief among them Nelson Mandela.
Harris was part of it all. He and his junior, Bheki Mlangeni, found themselves in London as Judge Louis Harms took evidence from Coetzee at the South African embassy.
And, just as South Africa was on the cusp of democracy, the conspiracy that the book begins with, namely the building and despatch of a bomb, takes the book to its final thrilling and shatttering conclusion.
In the run-up to the watershed April 1994 elections, Harris was in charge of the Gauteng region of the National Peace Accord as South Africa struggled to bring about a state of affairs in which free and fair elections could be held. During the 1994 elections, he was in charge of the Independent Electoral Commission’s Monitoring Division with the responsibility for ensuring that the elections could be free and fair.
After this he led the establishment of the Commission for Conciliation, Mediation and Arbitration.
From there his career, as MD of the Resolve Group, led him throughout Africa and all over the world advising governments on best practices, drafting policy on judicial reform and electoral practices.
If there’s one regret he has, it is the time he lost with his children when they were young and he was immersed in political trials.
He’s making up for that now and he’s heartened by the response to the book from people young and old.
“I’ve been getting e-mails from people I didn’t even know. I was a bit worried that young people might not be that interested in the ’80s, but the response has been phenomenal.”
It’s something that Harris believes stands the country in good stead for the challenges it faces now, 14 years into democracy.
“This country needs reminding of where we’ve come from and what we can achieve. The capacity of this country to surprise good and bad is phenomenal.
“There’s an inability in certain areas of government to deliver, plus there’s been a denialism in certain key areas of government. There needs to be an acknowledgement of the precise state of affairs and an accountability.”
The recent spate of xenophobia is a case in point. “It was a profound disappointment, that there were desperate people still living in poverty 14 years on. It was a basic failure of government to deliver on housing, human security, health, sanitation, jobs and schools, yet it can pay billions on an arms deal.”
But he is not without hope.
“I believe that while there are a lot of things that are saddening, this country is filled with good people with a lot of determination and commitment. It almost seems in the last year that the stark realisation has dawned that we’re in a tough place, we’ve realised that we’ve got a lot of work to do to deliver what we said we would to the people.
“Daily miracles do occur, bringing a lot of hope. We have exceptionally fine people and fine institutions that we must jealously safeguard because without them we will become another Zimbabwe. People must be careful of what they attack.”
n See a review of In a Different Time on Monday’s books page.