DEMOCRACY 13 -15 JULY 1994 UNIVERSITY OF THE WITWATERSRAND HISTORY WORKSHOP CHANGING CONSTRUCTIONS OF POWER AND GENDER RELATIONS INTHECISKEI 1945-I968 Anne Mager History Department University of Cape Town AFRiCANA* CHANGING CONSTRUCTIONS OF POWER AND GENDER RELATIONS IN THE CISKEI 1945-1968 Anne Mager The public terrain of formal decision-making in the Eastern Cape reserves between 1945 and 1968 was racked by state intervention and internal dissension. Location inkundlas and the regional Bunga were shot through with the tensions of men engaged in the ongoing construction of power in the face of rapidly diminishing resources of land, cattle and labour. Increasingly, male authority was unsettled by signs that orderly control over the domestic domain was becoming more complex as women transgressed established boundaries of gendered control.2 Men - in the household, inkundla, Bunga and Bantu authority - responded by reaffirming the division between public and domestic domains while participating in the constant reconstruction of male authority in both. This separation of male control into distinct but enmeshed domains facilitated the construction of a male dominated social order, mediated by state intervention in the public domain. Following the end of the second World War, the Native Affairs Department (NAD) continued to use the Bunga as the interface between white officialdom and the 'native locations'. The educated Bunga representatives, janus - like, translated NAD policy into African discourse; but the real chain of command from the Minister of Native Affairs was through the Native Commissioners to the location headmen. Relations between the NAD, the Bunga and the headman remained uneasy, constantly undermined by lagging wartime scarcities and inefficiency on the part of the NAD. Thus Bunga men struggled to hold on to the little credibility they had among location men. Nor did their particular construction of male power provide a convincing model for the younger generation. With Apartheid state intervention after 1951, African male authority was reinscribed in the discourse of ethnic identity and Bantustan administrative machinery. Women remained formally excluded from public power. They were denied access to the Bunga and permitted to enter the inkundla only as objects of review by the male forum. This structural division into distinct domains enabled the public male discourse to remain largely silent on women. Nor did women's talk transgress the social order; grievances were expressed as particular and personal. Rather than simply reproducing this dichotomy, this paper seeks to explore and explain the public/private dualism. It is argued that the public and domestic were not only enmeshed but the divide was constantly reconstructed in the interests of maintaining a. male dominated social order. Moreover, the form and content of decision-making in the male forums served to maintain this bifurcated gender system. However, since the public/private dichotomy is treated as 'natural' and unproblematic by white officialdom, the dualism permeates the offical records. The gaps in the sources are chasms: official sources treat women as absent from the public domain while the domestic is portrayed as static and unchanging. This presents a daunting challenge for the demonstration of the reciprocal construction of gender and politics. The paper is arranged in four parts around the dominant locii in which male power was constructed in the period 1945-1968. The first section explores tensions in the ongoing construction of male authority in the domestic domain, separate but enmeshed with the public. The second part looks at the construction of gentlemen's power through the Bunga system and the third explores the conflict between inkundla men and NAD officials as a locus for the construction of African men's authority. Part four explores ways in which Bantu Authorities reinvented ethnicities and created new forms of aale power. In each section, I attempt to draw out the reciprocal constructions of gender and politics. Part onat constructing aala authority ia tba privata doaain Long-established rules that had helped to construct a social distance between women and men in Eastern Cape African society came under increasing pressure in the period after HH2. Lobola was viewed with less sympathy by a NAD desperate to enforce stock culling and land rehabilitation; the Native Divorce Court held out the option of dissolving a marriage without paternal consent. Experience of urban life played havoc with the once hallowed rules of respect expected of young wives. Thus, marriage by lobola, adherence to intlonipho language rules and the exclusion of women from the inkundla, the key clusters of control that muted women's self and political expression, were under pressure in the post-war period. Nevertheless, men continued to construct their authority in and through domination over women in both the domestic - *where men had powers over everybody' and in the public domain - 'where what was agreed among men was final'. If continuity in the construction of male power was not achieved through the acquiesence of women, coercion and even brutality might be employed. Both male and female desire for respect from society clearly encouraged conformity and the maintainance of rules that governed this order - 'a woman expected punishment if she did not follow her husband's orders'8. But the deterioration of the reserve economy and increased occillating migration to the centres of urban employment meant that neither women nor men were unable to conform so readily to the ways of their parents. By 1946, 29% had no cattle, 30% were landless and 60% had five or fewer cattle.10 For young men this meant holding onto authority without the certainty of cattle or land; for young women it often meant *taking men's punishment' and seeking new (sub)ways within the male dominated order.11 Since women had no access to the forums of public power, where men *spoke for them', their own responses to male authority were generally visible only in the private domain.12 But even here, 'womon discussed only what was expected of them' and a woman who defied authority did so on her own.13 Defiant women thus invariably acted in isolation, undermining the power of mothers- and sisters- in-law as much as that of men. While women sometimes expressed a desire for change such as a tempering of the excesses of male power or the exercise of mutual respect, their pleas did not easily permeate the walls between the male and female domains. Thoso women who sought a softening of the rules by which this division was maintained, were condemned to live in the interstices of location life while the men rcisorted to the increasingly violent exercise of their powcir. Let us consider the case of Sltuwe Ngayi. Her 'plea' began with a public statement in the cattle kraal and ended in a trial for murder in the Supreme Court. Her experience points to the difficulty of permeating the divide between domestic and public, a barrier that women had to cross if they were to be heard. The court record tells us that early in the New Year of 1946 forty eight pounds and ten sheep were exchanged as lobola between the emissaries of two fathers. The bride was taken, protesting, to her new home. The ululating of older women was not able to drown the bride's anguish and determination, however. 'I do not want to be the wife of this place', Situwe Nqayi cried, throwing off her ochre- coloured blankets and running naked into the cattle kraal.1* This public denouncement was not only a rejection of the ?an who had provided the lobola, but of her father who had accepted this payment. In repudiating her marriage in this way, Situwe Nqayi was acting in accordance with legal custom at the time; her marriage should be annulled. With the issue pushed into the public domain, residents made sure that the headman was called to ratify that 'custom' was carried out. Accordingly, he told the girl to go home to her father's homestead as she was no longer married. Situwe was on her way home when three men rushed out from behind the kraal and dragged her back to her 'husband's' hut. Her 'mother-in-law' shouted, 'You can do what you like but you are going to remain here as the wife of the kraal.'15 In so doing, she pulled the case back into the private domain where mothers-in-law controlled young wives. The headman did not intervene, leaving the household to sort itself out. Four men tied Situwe onto the floor with cattle riems. So splayed and unable to move, she was easily raped by her 'husband'. When the cattle riems were loosened the next morning, Situwe covered her face with dung, stripped and once again ran into the cattle kraal to repudiate the marriage. While *custom' would have upheld the repudiation, the headman later told the court, the man who had paid lobola for her did not. The headman, it seems, was unwilling for his public authority to enter domestic terrain, particularly if there was a chance of the older woman gaining control over the younger and reinforcing the divide between domestic and public. The Supreme Court Judge informs us that Situwe then plotted to run away. This was apparently also the belief of her 'husband' who followed her into the forest where she said she was going to chop wood - her duty as a daughter-in-law. As her 'husband' kept watch, Situwe crept up behind him and sunk her axe into his head.16 Situwe was sent to a reformatory for eighteen months, there to come under the protection and tutelage of white 'civilisation'. The judge's anger was reserved for African ?en. First, he reprimanded the young men whose contempt for the court revealed disdain for the white man's intervention in the African domestic domain. ' Then he warned the girl's father that he would be arrested and thrashed should he 'sell her again to some man for sheep or cattle.'18 In both instances, the judge exercised his control as an official of the white supremacist state. He upheld the right for white men to control black men and to usurp black male control over their women. Significantly, Situwe herself did not repudiate the lobola system. Her demand was for her rights and protection under customary law. Her father and husband had failed to observe those rights. Moreover, coercion of reluctant girls was common practice in the region, the headmen informed the court. In this event, going public and thereby compelling the headman to intervene to perform his duty, was the girl's next customary option. But the headman had shown that custom was to be exercised in the interests of male authority; the wall between public and domestic was not to be rendered porous. This case reveals starkly how male authority per se came to be exercised qua custom and came to be perceived as custom. If there was a dilemma for the headman, there was no sign of anguish, nor remorse after the event. Nor did the headman seek advice. The Native Commissioner was never informed. 9 From the point of view of women, the headman and indeed, custom as it was exercised by these selfish men, had failed.20 However, confining the case to the domestic protected male authority in general and enabled individual men to deal with the problem outside of the public domain. The headman clearly knew when it was strategic to stand back. Situwe's experience reveals the coercion inherent in the construction of male authority through domination over women. Laid bare in the public court room, the privacy of the bedroom was opened to scrutiny. The recourse of male power to violence was exposed. If the expression of aggression was extreme, it sprung from a notion that once thwarted, male authority was to be restored through violence. Beyond this, the case makes apparent that the private domain could only be constructed within and through a public domain that shaped its space. Moreover, male authority in the public domain rested on this construction of a dichotomous social order. Men's public authority was underpinned by thair control over women in the private domain. The managing of this tension between public and domestic continuously served the construction of male domination. Constructing fraal* forbcarano* If male coercion of women was a final resort in the construction of male domination over women, the practice of intlonipho ensured that women developed the forbearance for their restriction and exclusion. Intlonipho was thus also a meann of regulating the interface between public and private, male domination and female subordination.21 Anxious for marriage, children and social acceptance, many women observed intlonipho rules in the 1940s. Indeed, they were proud of this feat, disparaging those who opted out.22 But for many others, young women, educated and worldy wise, marriages constructed on unquestioning respect and duty were no longer adequate. These young women had come to see and talk of a world that did not fit easily with silent acceptance of aale control. Experience of a more independent youth not only provided enabling cognitive skills but added impetus to the articulation of frustrations with prescribed notions of femininity. Some women, such as Yaliwe Skatsha, spoke out against women's subordination through the practice of intlonipho. As a young woman in the 1940s, Yaliwe had won beauty competitions, enjoyed dancing and knew that life could be fun. Then she was 'twalaed' (abducted), and her father agreed to her marriage. Yaliwe did not oppose the marriage since the man was her lover. But marriage sanctioned a new form of male domination over her. Intlonipho was the means by which this was accomplished. Hot only did adherence to this practice mean averted eyes, avoiding the cattle kraal and silent obedience, but denying her own needs. This enabled her man to take new lovers while she kept the home. When she complained, he beat her. When she ran away to her father's home, 'he would find a cow' to secure her return. Other young wives whom she met at the water tap, had similar complaints, but they would not speak out. The only women Yaliwe had legitimate access to were those who colluded with men in the construction of the system: After my marriage, I was told by my sisters-in- law not to make friendship with people of my age but only with older wives; young people would teach me wrong things while older wives would be helpful. All those whom I asked to help me told me that perseverance was important. They told me that that they had experienced the same bad times.23 Yaliwe became convinced that 'men used intlonipho to repress women' while they justified their own 'arrogant and self-centred' behaviour.24 Yaliwe finally divorced her husband, but she remained isolated in a community where the majority of women were not prepared to support her stand against the practice. 'It's because their minds are still trapped, it is like something they were born with, it's embedded in their minds.' However, while other women confirmed that they had endured similar experiences, they believed that they had chosen the status of marriage, rather than been trapped. For this status women had to suffer.25 Yaliwe's wish was that women would 'unite in saying that intlonipho is wrong; if it is necessary men must practice it as well' was not shared by many. However, she had no doubt that her children shared her desire for reciprocity and would demand a mutual form of respect.26 However, since the MAD too, through the 'Mative law and Custom' recognised by the Native Administration Act of 1927 upheld women's exclusion from political forums the space into which articulate women might move independently of men was heavily circumsribed. Magistrates anxious to avoid being drawn into domestic location affairs were also careful to refer cases brought by women back to the headman.28 Thus white male officials effectively colluded with black men to maintain a male dominated, bifurcated social order both in the construction of legislation and in the administration of the reserves. The powerful presence of men in the domestic demonstrates the ongoing construction of co-terminous domains as facilitating the reproduction of male power and authority. This conceptualisation of domestic and public, gender and politics, goes against prevailing accounts that avoid examining the nature of the relationship between domestic and public.29 Thus, for example, Hammond-Tooke discusses cases involving women in the inkundla as examples of headmanship skill without examining the relationship between male consensus and women's place. Part TwoiThe Bunga - Training in Dcaoaraoy? The central forums of public debate in the Ciskei reserves in the post WW2 era were the exclusively male Bunga and inkundla. The Bunga was an elected body of educated men presided over by white Native Commissioners; the inkundla was inclusive of all adult men in a rural location. Thus outside of the inkundla, and parallel to it, the Ciskeian General Council (the Bunga) constituted a domain of masculine power and identity construction for an educated sub-elite. The Glen Grey Act of 1894 provided the initiating legislation for the Bunga, a three tiered system of local and district councils and a general council, but it was not until 1934 that the first councils were elected.30 The Bunga system was intended as a sop for the educated men who were about to lose the franchise. African women remained voteless, the enfranchisement of white women in 1930 notwithstanding. The inkundla, its powers heavily curtailed by the Native Administration Act, was a locus for the continuity of 'custom' and its service in the construction of male authority. Tensions between these two male forums were never far from the surface, the issues of power and control constantly contested. Moreover, the NAO's parallel administrative system constructed social, relationships through an elaborated language of binary opposites. Like academic studies of the time, NAD officials designated communities as red or school, heathen or Christian; leadership was backward or progressive; decision-making and administration rested on consensus or command styles.31 This language stressed the opposite poles of social relationships; it reproduced dichotomies rather than problenatising the construction and maintainance of these binary oppositions. It was a language deployed in the desire to 'know', administer or 'civilise', adopted by white officials and Bunga men alike; it helped to construct perceptions of class. However, these linguistic oppositions not infrequently subverted and undermined the parallel administrative structure by setting hierarchical forums against each other. 'Bunga' in some areas became a symbol for all that was against cattle and inkundla authority; 'Bunga' was a call to revolt. For white NAD officials, the Bunga was a forum for promoting Western ideas of 'progress'. Moreover, by granting the responsibilities of local government to educated men rather than to headmen and chiefs, the idea of the Bunga was at once divisive and paternalistic. It extended the red-school dichotomy to the administrative level, setting the Bunga up against the inkundla. Cr AM Jabavu of Tamacha, gave expression to the tension generated by this dualism. 'Councils were the first official representatives of the people. Yet headmen are given power to consult in regard to some very important aspects of people's life.' Moreover, Jabavu added, as he distanced himself from the inkundla, 'Some of those aspects are of an academic nature and it is ridiculous to ask a raw native to pass an opinion on academic questions.' Bunga councillors thus constructed themselves against the inkundla as an embattled rural intelligentsia. They sought to carve out a space for them?elves as 'enlightened', progressive leaders. But the domain in which they operated was a minefield criss-crossed by the layers of the NAD administration system -inkundla, Native Trust and the Bunga.33 Caught between their white overseers and the poorly educated men of their constituencies, Bunga councillors offset themselves against both white and 'red' men. If less educated men failed to understand enlightened views, Native Commssloners who undermined Bunga leadership by going directly to rural locations to win over support, failed to understand democracy. Cr Jabavu set out the problem: I am of a different class to the red native. I know what is the danger in the law and what to revise...Democracy is something that has come from the white man and it is undemocratic to cut the ground from under the feet of the representatives of the people...I personally, and some of my colleagues here, cannot count on dual consultation with the people. I do not blame the officials so much. I blame bad legislation...we are mere figureheads in this council and we might as well stay at home and not come here.34 While Cr Jabavu dissociated himself froa the dualism of the NAO's administrative system, like most Bunga Councillors, he clearly located himself within the red/school discourse in which the Bunga was heavily inscribed. Like many councillors he saw himself as 'not red', engaging in a process of 'othering' that helped reinforce and maintain social distance while providing space for a patronising paternalism. Some councillors invoked the Native Trust as 'our father'. They used the red/school opposition to remind the NAD of the possibilites of 'civilising' through continuing the feeding scheme begun in the 1946 drought. 5 Others sought ( to deploy educated women in the mission of civilising their 'red' counterparts, requesting that trained women be appointed as Home Demonstrators to educate, upgrade and generally uplift 'red' women.36 Yet others saw the role of educated women in the construction of class going beyond that of meting out charity. Thus, some Bunga men of means, often quitrenters seeking to pass on their land to dutiful daughters, repeatedly requested that the table of succession be amended to allow women to inherit quitrent land.37 While these men lived in a world increasingly dominated by private property that extended beyond cattle, the majority whom they represented lived under communal t*nj|jr?, where land was allocated by the headman in consultatioj' with the Native Commissioner. Not surprisingly, they were unable to convince all those in the Bunga to break with bid notions of male authority. Moreover, the white Native 'ij Commissioners invariably supported the interests of male succession. This othering of all uneducated women as 'red' obscured the shifts that were taking place among illiterate women. Many of those who prided themselves on the distinctiveness of ochre, were increasingly moving away from traditional conceptions of masculinity. In some areas they were moving faster than illiterate men.39 Often concern for JJjeir children propelled women to break with the past.40 Thus, Nowinile Hongqo, herself illiterate, argued vehemently that the only way for her children was through education. Never having sat in a classroom herself, she dragged her son from a mine labour recruitment meeting and marched him back to school. While education created no conflict for this woman, abandonment of ethnic identity did. To be an ochre person was to believe in one's heredity. 'What sickens me', said Nowinile, 'is that people are no longer proud of their nation, the nation of Rharabe, the nation of all laws.'41 The NAD's administration also removed old certainties, awakened desires and created new frustrations. Some of these insecurities were a direct outcome of the Bunga's 'othering' discourse. 'Red' aen in Bunga discourse were cast as inimical to democracy- These men were not considered competent to hold government office to occupy a place in the Bunga. Nor were they fit to be headmen. Only ?en educated to the level of Std Six should be appointed headmen the Bunga voted and only 'educated natives' should be trained as stock inspectors. 2 The tight-fistedness of the NAD, however, was an obstacle to the implementation of these ideas. With a salary lower than a 'kitchen girl's', no educated man wanted the job of headman. Paid lower than an unmarried woman, male authority was at stake. Thus Cr Peteni explained, There are Headmen in my area whom I can not talk , to, but just point at them...the Headman is unlike a voter. A voter is a man who has means, but a headman is a nan picked up by the location, a man who is prepared to live on a very meagre salary. 3 Nor were wives keen to accept traditional status over urban wages. Thus one woman WJIS disgusted that her husband should be expected to forego a job for the status of headman. 'Have you brought this man for this nonsense?' the woman scoffed, 'when he was in Cape Town he was working for a salary'.44 For this wife, traditional conceptions of masculinity had to give way to new options for meeting material needs. By accepting the headmanship, a Bunga councillor concluded, a man was in danger of losing 'his dignity and his vary wife!' - emasculated in the domestic domain by an impoverished public position.45. If Bunga men believed that theirs was a superior status to that of inkundla men, they knew they had very little power. Their authority as 'big men' in the broader rural community was increasingly undermined by their association with the patronising NAD. Councillors warned of the dangers of the Bunga becoming the pawn of a discriminatory state. They urged the NAD to hear the 'bitter cry of the people' fed up with the role of the Bunga as 'shield of the Department'.46 Moreover, as Cr Phooko complained, the 'Europeans' in the Bunga were of little use to democratic debate. As as 'officials of the government', they could 10 not * express their opinions'.47 The NAD thus undermined its own endeavour and failed to make the Bunga a place of training in democracy. If the Bunga had from its inception been wedged between the Native Commissioners and the inkundla, their role as outriders for the NAD undermined their authority and credibility. Bunga men were embattled, desperately seeking a role for themselves as progressive leaders guiding their people to enlightenment. As 'yes men', they could not fulfill this role. As opponents of the government, they would fall foul of the law. Often alienated from the cattle-owners who dominated the inkundlas, their leadership was weak. The discourses and practices of the Bunga hung uneasily with those of the inkundla, a forum dominated by the interests of cattle-owning men. Part Threesinkundla man v? HADsconstructing sal* authority in and through conflict The 'territorial unit' of the location and the *concomitant sense of identification among its residents' provided the basic administrative unit for the NAD, location headmen forming the front-line.48 The headman and his inkundla were the pivot of /Native Administration'. While this male forum was the 'voice of the people' in Native Administration, it was heeded only when these men showed willing to be a conduit for the NAD.49 Differentiation among headman was thus partially shaped by character and ideology. Headmen were frequently known by these attributes and differentiated into 'progressive', 'funzeveni or hotheads' and *weak and ineffectual' by officialdom and rural men alike. ? A 'progressive' headman was one who set a good example by following modern farming methods and remaining *strictly loyal to the authorities'.51 'Hotheads' were men who opposed the Bunga, for whom the 'word Trust' stank in their nostrils' and they were bent on unrestricted accumulation of cattle.52 The headman of Tyefu's location in Peddie, Alfred Hsutu, was unequivocally a 'hothead' in these terms. But this was a hotheadness born of confinement between the inkundla's desire for hereditary male leadership in a cattle economy and NAD's power to restrict African men's authority and capacity to accumulate cattle. While NAD officials tended to perceive Tyefu men's recalcitrance as mediated by the headman's character, they underestimated the desire of the inkundla men to shake off Trust interference. Locked in a power struggle with the NAD for over two decades, Tyefu's men increasingly constructed male authority in and through this process of conflict with the NAD. The intensity of this struggle in the late 1940s impacted profoundly on the construction of male identities. This struggle took a new turn in 1946 when the inkundla sought to have their deposed headman, popularly regarded 11 as a chief, reinstated. Alfred Hsutu had been suspended from his post as headman on successive occasions since 1933 largely because Tyefu's men, under his leadership, had refused to participate in elections for the Bunga and had declared their unwillingnesn to follow the Bunga'a lead. The banning period expired, the inkundla demanded his reinstatement. But the Native Commissioner complained that Hsutu had 'not changed for the better, rather the reverse'; he was *arrogant and assertive'. Moreover, 'as long as Msutu remains in Tyefu'u location where he is regarded as a chief, friction will continue.'54 Clearly, Msutu continued to project himself as a powerful leader on his own terms. The people of Tyefu's location, almost 5 000 adult women and men according to the 1946 census, continued to regard him as their hereditary leader and his followers held inkundla and imbizo meetings at his Great Place.55 This made it impossible for a headman to operate independently of this powerful group. For Msutu, it was anomalous that he should be the only one of seven Mfengu chieftains to go unrecognised by the NAD so he travelled to Cape Town to plead his case with Advocate Bowen, a Senator and a white man of power. The result was a lengthy and eloquent letter from Bowen to the Chief Native Commissioner of the Cape. The letter claimed that Msutu had allegedly confessed the error of his ways, professed understanding of the complexity of the role of chiefs and headmen in the administration of Native Affairs and promised to reform. However, while the statement bore Msutu's X mark, it revealed aore about Senator Bowen's desires than any views Msutu might have held. In Peddle, the Native Commissioner was not convinced of Msutu's change of heart, but he was pragmatic. The man acting as headman was of little use to the government, despite his support for the Bunga. His following was small, his leadership weak and his principal ally was an illegitimate half brother, Alfred Giba, whose own status in the community was in question. When Giba was appointed sub-headman by his half-brother, the inkundla complained 'that a child whose father we do not know' was 'not fit to be put at our head'.57 Like his paternity, his authority and indeed his trustworthiness, was in question. Both his failure to comply with the principles of hereditary leadership and fear of this half-white man's loyalty to his father's people rendered him untrustworthy. Pear of betrayal thus comingled with ethnicity in this discourse. But the Native Commissioner continued to insist that Msutu's reinstatement was conditional on a written undertaking to co-operate with the NAD. Msutu declined and was branded 'intractable as ever'.58 Finally, Alfred Giba, the man of light complexion and unknown father, was appointed Acting Headman. Not surprisingly, Alfred Msutu retained all legitimacy. His homestead, the Great Place of the Ama-Hlubi people of Tyefu's location, remained the centre of political life. 12 By the early 1950s, the oppositional political rhetoric emanating from Msutu's Great Place took on a new dimension as it was reinscribed into an African nationalist discourse. Douglas Msutu, eldest son of Alfred and heir to the chieftainship, had joined the ANC Youth League. Almost every weekend, hundreds of residents flocked to Msutu's to listen to the speeches of Youth league activists from Port Elizabeth and East London. A key target of the young militants were the Native Commissioners and Magistrate's offices, known locally as 'the Bunga'.59 With the tacit collusion of inkundla elders, these young militants torched the 'Bunga' offices and the buildings were razed to the ground for the second time in a decade.60 The appointment of Giba a failure, the Native Commissioner sought a new mandate and called for nominations for headman. Douglas Msutu, son of Alfred, received 226 votes, his opposition, IS.61 But Douglas Msutu, an ANC 'agitator', was not appointed.62 With father and son in cahoots, the Chief Native Commissioner recognised that the vote for the younger Msutu was a vote for his father and hereditary leadership. Defeated, he installed Alfred Msutu as headman on 24th October 1952, urging him to use his influence to counter the 'many ignorant people preaching a violent and subversive doctrine, particularly in this district of Peddle'.63 Msutu was silent throughout the proceedings but his inkundla councillors declared that they would 'now sleep peacefully' since they were no longer a 'people without their chief and so 'without their brains'.64 For the men of Tyefu, Msutu's reinstatement as headman was his installation as chief. Within months the Native Commissioner complained that Msutu had taken upon himself the 'rights pertaining to the Native Commissioner of the District', allocating lands under his own auspices and refusing to submit to regulations governing headmen. Msutu, now about 75 years old, was unmoved by the Native Commissioners demands that he submit to NAD authority. Moreover, the men of Tyefu refused to elect representatives to the Bunga. There was no such thing as 'Bunga' or 'Trust' in Tyefu they declared; these were mere conduits for NAD control. Consequently, the Minister of Native affairs arranged for Msutu's deportation. But Msutu went into hiding and it was some three years before the deportation order could be served.67 Alfred Giba once again stepped into the breach, to the distaste of Tyefu's leading men. As 'Alfred Giba is our illegitimate we hold that in law and in our custom he has no locus stand!'; Alfred Giba was 'not a native'.68 This recourse to Mfengu ethnicity was not so much backward- looking as constructed anew in the conflict between the inkundla and the NAD, sharpened by the NAD's support of a man so marginal in Tyefu society. To appoint a man born of a woman who had gone beyond African male sanction, was anathema to the inkundla and the women it controlled. The result was that Tyefu's location was run by the ANC Youth League with the tacit support of the inkundla elders. The organisation of the youth reinforced the anti- colonial hostility of the older generation and drew young and old into a new alliance.69. Thus, leadership had passed from one generation to another, the discourse shifting froo a defense of locale interests to a broader Africanism imbued with the aspirations of an urbanising youth. The shift from locale-specific politics to a nationalist discourse was accomplished with increased militant resistance to white authority. Despite the nilitance of inkundla politics at Tyefu's location, woman continued to remain outside of the realm of political power. When Tyefu women thwarted police investigations and defied Trust regulations, they did so at the behest of their men.70 Thus African nationalist leaders, like their inkundla elder*, drew on and perpetuated the divide between public and domestic, their predominantly male politics constructing women as followers. Moreover, the conflict between African men and white male officials became the very locus in which new forms of male authority and identity were constructed. Part Fourt Bantu Authorities and Afrioan men's power Nationalist victory at the polls in 1948 spelled the end of the Bunga. But not immediately. EG Jansen, the,first nationalist Minister of Native Affairs announced that the Council system would be fostered by the Nationalist Government.71 However, his successor, Dr HF Verwoerd, believed the Bunga was ineffectual in the face of growing resistance to rehabilitation and ANC 'propaganda'; it was also: far too imitative of European, ways.72 Thus, he would introduce Bantu Authorities as an *alternative machinery stimulating Bantu development to run alongside' the council system'.73 Rather than introduce modern western notions of administration, the Bantu Authorities would 'make use of the old tribal system, to train the traditional leaders of the people for the task of governing...in an enlightened and progressive manner'. 4 Unlike the councils, Bantu Authorities would 'have to accept responsibility and executive power' as well as bare the costs of government services. s The Bunga rejected the idea of Bantu Authorities - they would not be party to a return to 'tribalism': dividing the people into tribes, that does not appeal to us because now as we are, different nationalities staying together...Now we would not like to be divided into different nationalities. We have stayed long with these other tribes and now the Government is going to make confusion.76 14 After two years of Bunga resistance, the NAD approached chiefs and headmen directly, promising that Bantu Authorities would give them 'greater power'. This effectively increased authority for those who sought *enlightenment' deemed 'reds', while it excluded the Bunga. Not surprisingly, Bunga men slowly began to join the new system in the hope that they, too, might gain 'higher status and recognition'.78 For the Apartheid state, the demise of the Bunga marked the end of 'an imported' European form of government unable to 'produce dynamic leadership for Bantu progress'.79 Implicit in the Bunga system had been the notion that Africans, with the appropriate education and influence were capable of *rational thought' and social management. They were thus controllable, like whites, through internal self-management. In the discourse of Bantu Authorities, 'races' were conceived as 'separately ordained'; if blacks were capable of governing, then their system of government was particular and peculiar to themselves.80 Central to this ideological construction of Apartheid tribalism was the conviction that effective ethnic control might facilitate greater economic exploitation of those lower down in the hierarchy.81 In inventing ethnic histories, the Afrikaner Nationalist government displayed enormous capacity for manipulating myths, feeding unrequited desires and fragmenting identities for political control. Tribes had to be found to implement the notion that full executive powers were vested in the 'tribal chief-in-council' ensuring the emergence of the 'latent power of the Bantu's own system'.02 The Bantu Authorities system thus introduced a new set of 'political myths that validate...political alignments and recruitments to office'.83 The Ciskei reserves provided an enormous challenge for the configuration of Bantu Authorities. In 1951, these scattered rural locations constituted neither a 'geographical or tribal entity'.84 There were often multiple 'tribal' groupings living in a single location interspersed with 'Coloureds'.85 Settlers on Trust land came from several districts, those from the farms having lost many of their customary habits. In some instances, women took the lead on these new settlements.86 The 'power of the chiefs had gone', and the people were .'leaderless' claimed the Chief Native Commissioner. ' Moreover, there was only one technically undisputed hereditary chief living in the Eastern Cape - Chief Archibald Sandile of the Ngqika (Gaika) branch of the Rarabe Xhosas.88 However, 'Archie' was a chief without dignity or means.89 He had neither cattle nor land. His home was a house with a broken lock, rented to him by the Trust in Released Area 33. ? He was, in the eyes of the Chief Native Commissioner, 'wholly unreliable', a man who drank and did 'nothing else'.91 15 Chief Archibald Velile Sandile was nevertheless installed as Paramount Chief of the Ama-Xhosa in 1958. The process by which this was achieved reveals the full ingenuity of the NAD under Apartheid administration. The greatest impediments to the chief's resucitation were the old-style Native Commissioners. Indeed, these men had for years impeded the efforts of the Gaika Tribal Committee, headed by that ANC stalwart. Reverend James calata, which had long sought reinstatement of the Xhosa paramount as a means to regain African diginity. Calata had pleaded with the Chief Native Commissioner of the Ciskei for 'my people, the Xhosa...to build up their nationhood on Traditional lines, so that the evils of Western civilisation do not destroy them'.92 But the Chief Native Commissioner, with a lifetime's experience in Native Administration, had not been enthusiastic. When Verwoerd gave the instruction to reinstate the Xhosa chief, he objected on the grounds that there was no longer a material and social context for the chieftainship.93 The Xhosa were too dispersed.94 The chief's 'own people', the Ngqika, were not willing to pay for rebuilding the Great Place. The Chief Magistrate of the Cape could find no coherence among the Gaika-Xhosa, or between these erstwhile rulers of the frontier and their chief.95 Nor did the Middledrift Native Commasloner want Chief Sandile, a 'wastral and a drunkard', to return to his birthplace. He would have *nothing but a detrimental effect on the eventual creation of Tribal Authorities in the area'.96 However, shortly after the appointment of a pro-Apartheid Bantu Commissioner, it was announced that Chief Archibald Velile Sandile would be installed as the head of the Hngqesha Territorial Authority in the King William's Town district.97 While there was nothing but a windmill and resevoir at Hngqesha, a great extravaganza awaited the impoverished chief. But first, the tribal history had to be squared with the Bantu Authorities plan. To ensure a 'tribal separation' between the Xhosa of the Transkei and Ciskei, it was desireable that Sandile be elevated to that of paramount of all the Xhosa outside the Transkei. Fortunately, 'custom permitted...a division between the tribes of the Great House and the tribes of the Right Hand House', Zwelidumile Sigcau in the Transkei and Archie Velile sandile in the Ciskei.98 With that, the Xhosa were ascribed two paramountcies, one for each Bantu 'homeland' where the Xhosa language dominated. The Chief Bantu Affairs Commissioner forthwith applied for over three thousand pounds for the ceremonies of installing the chief and establishing a Tribal Authority.99 When the Secretary for Native Administration baulked, his man in the Eastern Cape replied: This event is not one concerning the installation of a mere chief but the re- 16 establishment of a Paramount Chief whose forefathers were crushed by the authorites who now desire to welcome a return to the %throne' - surely there must be much rejoicing and funds cannot be so limited if the affair is to be what is desired.109 The desire to reinscribe chiefly power into Bantu Authorities clearly inspired the programme for the installation of Chief Archie Velile Sandile. (Al Velilet) This programme also revealed the fervour with which the new Bantu Commissioner had sought and gathered the scattered scraps of Rarabe-Xhosa ethnicity and where necessary, had filled in the gaps. Notwithstanding the drunk and unreliable chief, he would create a new Rarabe- Xhosa ethnicity at Mngqesha, itself of no specific historic significance for Velile, his ancestors or his followers. Perhaps as a distraction from this lapse, attention was paid to ethnic symbols in fine detail. An order was placed for a gown of leopard skins; Pretoria was asked to have the 'national emblem of the Rarabe tribe' a reposed leopard embossed on a 'chair, desk or staff'.101 Ethnic symbols and the image of a return to a precolonial past were designed to create an aura of 'emancipation' from white authority.102 The programme for the investiture of this African chief was shot through with the symbolism and ritual of Afrikaner nationalism. This was a pageant, the ethnicities of its joint creators inscribed in the spectacle. Velile's move to Mngqesha was termed an 'Exodus', his Gaika escorts, 'Trekkers'. Five Gaika clans escorted the Chief ceremoniously through Ndlambe territory, white KingWilliamsTown and across district boundaries stopping only for a 'braaivleis lunch'. They were saluted at various times by the mayor, the Kaffrarian Rifles Regiment (requested to be mounted on horseback) and various Bantu Commissioners. Velile met the Hlubi, Gqunukwebe and amaBhele chiefs outside King William's Town and the Hleke, AbaMbo and Dange Chiefs at Mngqesha. The Rev James calata led the AmaRanuga delegation at the ceremony. The ceremony culminated in the installation of the Paramount Chief of the Rarabe by the Paramount Chief of all the Xhosas, Zwelidumile Sigcau from the Transkei.103 After the party, bills had to be paid. The Chief Bantu Commissioner had failed to secure a gift from the state for the festivities; a loan of four thousand pounds had to be repaid by the Rarabe-Xhosa. One A.Z. Lamanani of Port Elizabeth took on the task of fund raising for the Great Place at Mngqesha, beginning with a Fair at New Brighton. The ANC, however, issued 'leaflets to every door in New Brighton', warning people against Bantu Authorities and 'those who used Velile's name to achieve Verwoerd's ends'.104 Govan Mbeki, intellectual leader of the radicals of the Port Elizabeth ANC, pointed out that 'Bantu authority' rested on prohibitions - of political gatherings, brewing of beer, shouting of war cries or 17 blowing bugles and whistles; the 'power' of the new authorities was confined to policing and collecting taxes. Defeated, Lamani resigned as the national organiser of the amaNgqika, his job in jeopardy.106 The radical wing of the ANC had clearly distanced itself from the anti-comnunist, Xhosa-Africanism of James calata, devoted to the cause of Xhosa nation-building.107 Despite opposition, Bantu Authorities were established in leaps and bounds, reluctance emerging momentarily as one group felt slighted by another acquiring higher status, as was the case in Victoria East. This was easily solved, however, as the Chief Native Commissioner explained: The ethnical (sic) set-up in this district is somewhat complex but it is not considered that this should present any obstacle to the establishment of Bantu Authorities as the various tribes are not only ethnically akin but have become almost completely integrated as a result of inter-marriage and their community of interest.108 While constructing ethnicity did not present any difficulties for the new Bantu Commissioner, his task was facilitated by small groups of men who sought to use ethnic difference as a lever to advance their own interests. This problem was simply solved by the establishment of three Tribal Authorities in one district.? All over the region, groups which had not given ethnic origin collective expression for decades, emerged to stake their claim under the Bantu Authorities Act.110 The Chief Native Commissioner rushed around installing chiefs and tribal authorities, apparently believing his own eulogies:*The reserves are areas of liberty for unfettered optimum development of the Bantu and the stagnating tribes are becoming progressive communities.'111 "The Bantu', he believed, would 'taste the sweetness of their own achievement.'112 On the 13th January 1959, the first Regional Authority was established in the King William's Town district under Chief Velile Sandile. Three thousand people attended the celebration, seventeen head of cattle were slaughtered and a thousand gallons of beer were provided for *toasts'.113 The Chief Bantu Commissioner gave praise to ethnic leadership: Any race or tribe that has no leaders to instil into it the urge for development and progress in this period of enlightenment is doomed to become and remain hewers of wood and drawers of water. The road to leadership was now open to the chiefs and councillors...114 18 By the end of the year, thirty one Tribal Authorities and eight Regional Authorities had been created and the Promotion of Homeland Self-government Act had been pa8sed.H5 The way was now paved for the establishment of a Territorial Authority in I960. The Ciskei Bantustan had been created; the 'Native reserves of the Eastern Cape' belonged to an obsolete discourse. This top-down restructuring also ensured that the potential for inter-ethnic conflict in the Ciskei Bantustan would be greater than that between African and the central state. Political and social engineering did not amount to the distribution of sufficient resources of land or the means with which to work it. Impoverishment and overcrowding escalated in the new in the new territories. In 1960, the %Bantu areas' of the Ciskei comprised a population of 320,861 risising to 400 000 by 1968, living on some 3353 square miles. The population density exceeded 100 people to a square mile in many districts, the highest in the country.116 The newly appointed chiefs and their ethnic authorities faced a formidable task. But their optimism prevailed as old powers were harnessed to new ones and the reins of control passed to their hands.117 Men's power over women was reinforced. A new tax system extending poll tax to women extended the fiscal base. Pass laws for women combined with a system of labour bureaux would ensure control over Bantustan labour movements.118 Underpinning this restructuring of the public domain was the assumption that ethnic authority would re-create women's unconditional respect for male authority. African men were encouraged to invoke order in the domestic domain, ensuring that ethnic control rested firmly on a gendered hierarchy. Often implicit in the injunctions of Chiefs and headmen as they called their *tribes' to order, this gendered hierarchy was particularly spelled out on ritual occasions. Thus Samuel Hqhayi, %Bantu National Poet' set out the appropriate social ordering of a *Bantu' society: That children respect their mothers Their mothers respect their husbands The men respect their chiefs And chiefs respect Qamata.11" Thus, enmeshed with the state's restructuring of the public domain of male political authority was the reconstruction of a domestic domain. This reinforced dichotomy, as Jardonova has pointed out in the post- Enlightenment European context, functioned to provide order in the face of threatening social chaos. 2 0 In the short-term, prevention of social disruption from the BAD's point of view, was not to develop productive economic activities to sustain this hierarchical and bifurcated social system, but to provide status and power to its key men. 19 The scope for upward mobility for those who had a stake in the system, was enormous. The new administration would 'need many of the sons and daughters of the Ciskei to fill new posts', said the Commissioner General for the Xhosa National Unit.121 The Territorial Authority were promised that white officials would remain only as long as assistance was needed. As soon as the Ciskei could be 'safely left to their own people', they would retreat.1" When Chief Kcakwe suggested that the New Deal might be an anachronistic step in this * sputnik' age, he was advised to avoid the disasters of *men like Nkrumah and Lumumba', to preserve the 'unanimity' of the Ciskei and so prevent 'evil inroads' from 'leftist movements operating underground.'123 Thus the way was cleared for the men of the Ciskei Bantustan to become ft new bureaucratic governing class, expanding as the Bantustan machinery grew. When the.Ciskei Territorial Authority convened in 1968 to accept the government's New Deal of greater legislative and executive powers, a step towards *self-government', its chairman, Chief Justice Kabandla of the amaBhele Mfengu near Alice, declared: I wish to state on behalf of the Xhosas of the Ciskei that we have accepted separate development. He have done so without reservation because we know it is the only policy that will work here in Ciskei.124 However, Apartheid restructuring also fostered instability and uncertainty, fragmenting as much as reinforcing ethnic identities. Some headmen resigned their posts in protest at their policing duties.125 Others watched in dismay as the social order they had come to respect was eroded by the new. Saddest of all for one missionary-educated man was that as people recreated ethnic identities, they brought,in new churches with different and often conflicting ways.126 Shebeens sprang up, some even 'brewing beer on Sundays'. With drink, the differences between 'man and boy' began to disappear and 'big men' walked in fear at night. There was no respect with Bantu Authorities, only 'grab and take'.127 '. Moreover, Bantu Authorities restructured the nature of decision-making within the inkundla, unseating its consensual character. It became apparent to some men that 1after the introduction of the white inkundla...headmen took over and gave orders in the locations'. While the binary opposites consensus-command were more complex than the separation suggested by Hammond-Tooke, inkundla men repeatedly cast the new relative to the old, in these terms.129 A new dominant male power was on the make - men whose 'bigness' came from their ability to manipulate their ethnic past and to look after their own interests. New 20 salary scales raised the standard of living for those who took jobs with the Department of Bantu Development; the headmen's power to allocate land free of interference facilitated demands for graft.130 Those with education became bureaucrats and civil servants, pragmatists rather than old-fashioned men of principle, as the Bunga men had tried to be. Not surprisingly, the contest over who was 'biggest' in the Ciskei was fought out between Mfengu and Xhosa, a rivalry rekindled after nearly a century, the Ciskei 'parliament' riven by conflict between these contending rivalries. Conclusion Male authority in the Ciskei reserves after 1945 was predicated on the continuous reconstruction of a divide between public and domestic domains. While male power was derived from men's authority in both domains, the maintainance of the public as an exclusively male preserve rested on male control over women in the domestic domain. Thus the consensual character of male deliberations in the inkundla was underpinned by the capacity of men to establish control over women in coercive, even brutal, ways outside of this forum. The Bunga too assumed a 'natural' division between men and women, ensuring that women remained external to decision-making forums. After 1951, Afrikaner nationalism facilitated the invention of a new ?Bantu' male authority. Hale power, however, continued to rely on and even hardened the divide between public and domestic domains at least until the late 1960s. Nevertheless, the exercise of new forms of male power through the Bantustan machinery also destabilised old notions of male authority, creating new possibilities. The Ciskei Bantustan was thus the outcome of relentless state intervention and the collusion of beleagured African men desperate to hold on to some form of male authority. Men's capacity to exercise power rested on the reconstruction of an authoritarian gendered hierarchy incorporating a reinforced divide between public and domestic domains. . 1. See TA. NTS 7895, 133/336; NTS 7896 133/336, May - July 1949, Native Commissioners' drought reports to Secretary for Native Affairs. 2. See for example l/ALC 2/1/1/36; in Wellington Gwavu vs Henry Lubambo in the Native Appeal and Divorce Court, the woman for whom lobola had been paid absconded. Also, the case against Josia Tilolo and Mgadi Bizani reveals some of the complexities of policing' contractual arrangements; Daily Despatch 2.6.1951. See also Daily Despatch 8.12.1951. 3. The ciskeian General Council, (CGC) popularly known as the Bunga, was established under Section 14 of Act 23 of 1920, by Proclamation Number 34 of 1934 and Government Notice 282 of 1934 with later amendmentments; CGC Minutes 19 October, 1955. 4. Interviews with Mr F. Hpande, Peddle, 23.10.1993; Headman Norman Mayiya, Peelton, 27.10.93; Group Interview with women; Hatomela's location. Peddle, 23.10.93. 5. See Joan Wallach Scott, Gender and the Politics of History. Columbia University Press, 1988, p 46. 6. See Teresa Dowling, 'Isihlonipho Sabafazi - the Xhosa women's language of respect,' Unpublished MA Thesis, OCT, 1988. 7. Interview F. Npande Peddle 23.10.93. 8. Interview F. Mpande. 9. Accounts of the deterioration of the Ciskei reserves can be found in: *Progress Report for the Department of Native Affairs presented to the Senate by Minister of Native Affairs', H.F. Verwoerd, 23 April 1951, Native Affairs Fact Paper, XIX, SAIRR Basement Collection, CPSA AD 1715; M.E. Elton Mills and Monica Wilson, Land Tenure. Keiskammahoek Rural Survey, Volume IV, Shutor and Shooter, 1952. 10. W.R. Norton, Assistant Director of Native Agriculture, Imvo Ziflfrfln^ sundu. 9.11.46. 11. Interview Mrs Matomela, Matomela's location, 23.10.93. 12. Interview F. Mpande. 13. Interviews F. Mpande; Married Woman Peelton and Yaliwe Skatsha, Peelton, 27.10.93. 14. CA. GSC 365/46, Rex vs Situwe Nqayi. 15. CA. GSC 365/46, Rex vs Situwe Nqayi. 16. Cape Mercury, 22.8.46. 17. CA. GSC 365/46, Rex vs Situwe Nqayi. 18. Cape Mercury, 22.8.46. 19. Group Interview with women, Matomela's location, 23.10.1993; R.C. Gold, Native Commissioner of King William's Town to Round Table King William's Town cited two cases where a woman's appeal to the chief had led to the guardians calling off the marriage. 20. Interview: Chris Thisani with Nowinile Monqo 17.12.1992. 21. Interviews: Married Woman, Peelton and Yaliwe Skatsha; Group interview with women Peddle; F. Mpande; Midwife, Mdantsane 26.10.93. 22. See Teresa Dowling. 23. Interview Yaliwe Skatsha. 24. Interview Yaliwe Skatsha. 25. Group-Interview with women, Peddle. 26. Interview Yaliwe Skatsha. 27. Memorandum to His excellency, the Governor-general of the Union of South Africa in his capacity as supreme Chief. Presented by the Paramount Chiefs and chiefs of the Bantu people of South Africa, 1928, SAIRR Basement Collection, CPSA AD 1433 Ad 8. 28. Interview F. Mpande. 29. See for example, W.R. Hammond-Tooke, Command or Consensus. David Philip, 1975, especially pp 172-196. 30. Some local councils were established in the late 1920s, but it was not until 1934 that the Ciskeian General Council was constituted, bringing the local councils together. 22 31. See Philip Mayer, Townsmen or Tribesmen. Oxford University Press, 1961 and Hammond-Tooke. 32. Minutes of CGC 25 September 1945. 33. See Anne Mager, "The People get fenced', Journal of Southern African Studies. Vol 18, No 4, December 1992. 34. CGC Minutes 25 September 1945. 35. See Cr Maku in CGC Minutes 16 October 1946, p21; Cr Mzazi in CGC Minutes 15 October 1948. 36. CGC Minutes 18 October 1951. 37. CGC Minutes October 1951, 1952 and 1954. 38. CGC Minutes 17 October 1952; CGC 22 September 1954. 39. Figures for the 1960s show that more women than men over the age of 40 were literate in the Victoria East district but the reverse was the case in Middledrift. In the younger age groups fewer women than men were illiterate. See P.J. de Vos et al, A socio-economic and educational survey of the Bantu residing in the Victoria East, Middledrift and Zwelitsha areas of the Ciskei', (Unpublished, University of Fort Hare, 7.12.1970) 40. Interviews suggest that women often tried to keep their daughters at school and men did not always oppose this. Group interview Matomela's location. See Anne Mager, 'Girle'Wars', Perspectives in Education. Vol 14, Nol, 1992/3. 41. Interview Chris Tbisani with Nowinile Monqo. 42. CGC October 17th 1951; Cape Mercury 14.10.48. 43. CGC Minutes 18 October 1951. 44. CGC Minutes 18 October 1951. 45. CGC Minutes 18 October 1951. 46. Cr Phooko was representative of the 55 000 people of Herschell, the first district to adopt the Council system. The Guardian, 8 May 1947. 47. Inkundla ya Bantu, October 1st, 1947 p5. 48. Hammond Tooke, plO9. 49. Government Notice 1099 of 1943 provided rules for chiefs and headmen and Government Notice 2886 of 1951 provided rules for the Native Commissioner's Court. 50. Bantu Correspondent to Cape Mercury 5.1.1950. 51. Bantu Correspondent to Cape Mercury, 12.1.1950. 52. Bantu Correspondent to Cape Mercury, 5.1.1950 and 3.7.1952. 53. Six hundred and Thirty Eight Taxpayers of Tyefu's Location had petitioned the Minister of Native Affairs on 28 July 1933 to say that they did not want the Bunga; NTS 30/360 1308. 54. Chief Native Commissioner to Secretary of Native Affairs 17 October 1945.NTS 12/46/220. 55. Walter Bowen MP House of Assembly to Secretary for Native Affairs, 3rd February 1947, NTS 12/46. 56. Chief Alfred C. Msutu to Secretary for Native Affairs 12th March 1947; NTS 12/46 Part 2, 184. 57. Deli Dlepu to Native Commissioner Peddle 12th December 1945; NTS 12/46/220; Minutes FCN Hassard, NC, n.d. but sometime in 1945; Notes to meeting Magistrates office, Peddie, re Appointment of Alfred Giba as acting Headman attached to letter from Chief Native Commissioner to the Secretary of Native Affairs 17th January 1946 NTS 12/46/220. 58. Memo re Reinstatmenet of Alfred Msutu of Tyefu's location, Peddie, NTS 12/46 Part 2 184. 59. Cape Mercury, 28.10.1952. ? 60. Cape Mercury, 17.01.1952; Gossip among white magistrates has it that the NC, GM Fenix 'sick and tired of Tyefu's lack of co-operation', dashed into the burning building to save his Rhodesian sweepstake ticket and left the rest to burn. Interview with retired Magistrate of Keiskammahoek, 27.10.93. 61. Native Commissioner, Peddie to Chief Native Commissioner, 18th April 1952; Gladstone Mpahla was the other candidate. 62. Memo re Reinstatmenet of Alfred Msutu of Tyefu's location, Peddie 12/46 NTS 12/46 Part 2 184. 63. Chief Native Commissioner J M Brink to Secretary for Native Affairs, 8th November 1952 NTS 12/46 Part 2 184; Cape Mercury, 28 October 1952. 64. Cape Mercury, 28.10.1952. 65. Minutes of meeting held at Native .commissioner's office Peddie on Monday afternoon the 27th April 1953. NTS 12/46 Part 2 184. 66. Native Commissioner, Peddie to Chief Native Commissioner, 18th September 1953. 67. 'Memo Hoofman Alfred Msutu'. stamped by Minister of Native Affairs, 31.10.53; Native Commissioner, Peddie to Chief Native Commssioner, 19th January 1954 and 2nd June 1954, NTS 12/46 Part 2 184. 68. William Toba, Councillor, Tyefu's location to the Minister of Native Affairs, 25.1.54 NTS 12/46 Part 2 184. 69. Sworn statement by Sergeant Hattingh, Peddie 11.1.1957 NTS 12/46/Part 2. 70. See Anne Mager, "The People get fenced'. 71. Cape Mercury, 14.10.1948. 72. See TA. Evidence of Native Commissioners JG Pike, JM Brink and RSG Gold to Tomlinson Commission Vol 47, pp 4174-4179. 73. CGC Minutes October 16th, 1951. . 74. CGC Minutes October 16th, 1951. 75. CGC Minutes October 16th, 1951. 76. CGC Minutes October 15th, 1952. 77. Report on Educational Conference for Native Chiefs and Headmen - Fort Cox - 21-25 January 1952; NTS 48/1 (5). 78. Middledrift Local Council Minutes of meeting held in the Court-room of the Native Commissioner Middledrift on Tuesday 20th September 1955. NTS 28/360 (c) Part 1. 79. Memorandum explaining the Background and Objects of the Promotion of Selfgovernment Bill, 1959, Government Printer WP 3-59 C66; SAIRR Basement Collection CPSA 1715. 80. Opening address of Minister of Native Affairs, Dr H.F. Verwoerd to Ciskeian General Council 27th October, 1953; Memorandum explaining the background and objects of the Promotion of Bantu Selfgovernment Bill, 1959, Government Printer, WP3-59 C66, SAIRR Basement Collection, CPSA AD1715. 24 81. See Mahmood Mamdani, Politics and class Formation in Uganda. Heinemann, 1976, for a discussion of tribalism as the ideology of a particular social group. 82. Memorandum explaining the Background and Objects of the Promotion of Selfgovernment Bill, 1959. Government printer HP 3-59 C66; SAIRR Basement Collection CPSA 1715. 83. Hammond Tooke, plO5. 84. TA. Evidence of JH Brink Chief Native Commissioner, Cape, to Tomlinson Commission Vol 47 p 4178/9. 85. TA. JM Brink to Tomlinson Commission, Vol 47, p 4179. 86. Interview AL Schaffer, retired Magistrate, Keiskammahoek, July 1990. 87. TA. Evidence of JM Brink, Chief Native Commissioner, to Tomlinson Commission, Vol 47, p 4174. 88. Archie Velile Sandile had been installed as Chief in 1935. He sold his farm to the Trust soon after as he was in financial difficulties. Chief Native Commissioner to Secretary of Native Affairs 7th April 1956, NTS 33/45 (217). 89. Chief Archie Velile Sandile was referred to as 'Archie' in the correspondence of Native Commissioners until he was formally instated as paramount chief and then he was addressed as Chief Velile (Al Velile!). 90. TA. Evidence to Tomlinson Commission, Vol 47 p 4178/9. 91. Chief Native Commissioner to Secretary of Native Affairs, 20th June 1949, NTS 33/45 (217). 92. James Calata to Chief Native Commisioner 12th September 1951; Calata Papers, CPSA. 93. TA. Evidence to Tomlinson Commission, Vol 47 p4178/9; Cape Times Magazine April 19, 1952. 94. DL Smit to Mrs Ballinger 11 July 1944; NTS 33/45 217. 95. AL Schaffer, Magistrate, Keiskammahoek, to Chief Native Commissioner, 16th November 1955; NTS 33/45 (217). 96. R. Helman, Native commissioner, Middledrift to Chief Native Commissioner, 26 January 1956; NTS 33/45 (217). 97. PSM Koti Rarabe Tribal Secretary, Gompo Institute East London to Chief Bantu Commissioner, 5th July 1958, NTS 33/45/(217). Also Under-Secretary Bantu Administration to the Minister 12/10/59. NTS 33/45 217. 98. Secretary, Bantu Administration, to Chief Bantu Commissioner, Umtata, February 1960 NTS 33/45 217; Notes of Meeting held in Chief Magistrate's Office at 11.15am on 4th August, 1960 regarding Paramount Chiefs of Xhosa and Rarabe. NTS 33/45 217. 99. Chief Bantu Affairs Commissioner to Secretary for Bantu Administration 23rd December 1959; NTS 33/45 217. 100. Chief Bantu Affairs Commissioner to Secretary for Bantu Administration 23rd December 1959; NTS 33/45 217. 101. Chief Bantu Commissioner to Secretary for Bantu Administration, 20th? January 1960, NTS 33/45 217. 102. CB Young, Secretary for Bantu Administration to Chief Bantu Commissioner, 19.01.1960; NTS 33/45 217. 103. A Programme of the Exodus of the Paramount Chief of the Rarabe from Chalumna to Mngqesha Reinstatement and Installation and Establishment of Territorial Authority, n.d. NTS 33/45 (217). 104. New Age, 12 June 1958. 105. New Age, 10 October 1957. 106. New Age, 12 June 1958. 107. A Programme of the Exodus of the Paramount Chief of the Rarabe from Chalumna to Mngqesha Reinstatement and Installation and Establishment of Territorial Authority, n.d., NTS 240/362. 108. Native Commissioner, Alice to Chief Native Commissioner, 7th March 1956; NTS 240/362 9018. 109. The Tyumie Tribal Authority under Bhele Chief Justice Mabandla; the Gaga Tribal Authority under Bhele Sub-Chief Davidson Mavuso and the Zwelonke Tribal Authority under the Hlubi headman Elijah Mgijima were thus created. Government Notice No 620, Government Gazette 2 May 1958. NTS 240/362 9018. 110. Chief Magistrate Transkei to Chief Magistrate Umtata 21 November 1955 NTS 54/1515/14 4901. 111. King William's Town Mercury, 7.6.1957. 112. King William's Town Mercury, 7.6.1957. 113. King William's Town Mercury, 28.4.1960. 114. King William's Town Mercury, 15.1.59. 115. King William's Town Mercury, 16 January 1960. 116. JAC van Heerden to King Williams' Town Rotary, King William's Town Mercury, 16 January 1960; The Argus, 14 November 1968. 117. Speech to Conference of Headmen and Chiefs in Ciskei 11th February 1953; NTS 48/1 (5); also Secretary for Native Affairs to Chief Native commissioner, March 1952 and NTS 289/280/7 NTS 1996; Also Ikhvezi Lomso, September 1958. 118. SAIRR Survey 1955/6 p95 and SAIRR Survey 1958 p77, NTS 1996; Report of Native Employment Commission September 1953; Ikhwesi. Lomso, September 1958. 119. M G Whisson and C W Manona 'Maqoma and Ciskeian Politics Today' in Nancy Charton (ed) Ciskei Economics and Politics of Dependence in a South African Homeland. Croom Helm 1980, p223. 120. L.J. Jardonova in Carol P. MacCormack t Marilyn Strathem, Mature. Culture and Gender. Cambridge University Press, 1980. 121. Cape Argus, 29.9.1965. 122. Cape Argus, 24.10.1967. 123. Cape Argus, 26.10.1967. 124. Cape Argus, 15.11.1968. 125. Imvo Zabantsundu 26 July 1952 reported that T. Mcekana, AN Wakashe, Yapi and S. Sixaba had resigned for this reason. 126. This was especially visible at the old Rhabe mission at Peelton; Interview Norman Mayiya. 127. Interview Norman Mayiya. 128. Interview F. Mpande. See also, New Age, 18.12.1958 and February 1959, Mtakati Velem and 20 others of Zalara location King William's Town district were charged with 'disobeying the lawful instruction of a headman'. 129. See Hammond Tooke. 130. Interview F. Hpande.