Surfing Behind the Wall: The MJC-Orion fraud halal crisis – “a real disgrace”

Surfing Behind the Wall: The MJC-Orion fraud halal crisis – “a real disgrace”

The MJC-Orion fraud halal crisis – “a real disgrace”

THE MJC-Orion fraud halal saga is without doubt, the most emotionally-charged story I’ve had to deal with in over 20 years of covering community issues. I’ve never seen such collective anger directed at an organisation.

The Cape Town-based Muslim Judicial Council, the MJC, has really been feeling the heat. The community is angry because of MJC bungling of PR; this after 3rd Degree journalist Deborah Patta’s questions of its role at Orion with regards to pork products being classified “halal” did not meet adequate response.

At the heart of the matter is a YouTube video portraying Orion workers de-labelling pork products and re-labelling them as halal. The MJC Halal Trust certified some of Orion’s products, and thereby hangs the tale.

Orion is a cold storage facility, not a processing or slaughtering one – and according to the MJC – the Halal Trust’s involvement was no more than the certifying of 18 frozen chicken consignments at a cost of about R16, 000 to Orion.

Orion’s re-labelling of other products (such as kangaroo and buffalo meat) was brought to an end by the High Court. This was when the South African National Halal Authority (SANHA), the Red Meat Industry Forum, the South African Meat Industry Company, and other parties, made a successful application against Patrick Gaertner, Orion’s CEO.

Gaertner, who was evasive in the face of detail and contrite when it was convenient, claimed he’d been set-up. On 3rd Degree, Tobias Lombard – one of the men who filmed the YouTube video and who claimed Gaertner owed him R1 million – accused Orion’s chief of being fully aware of his company’s halal fraud.

That SANHA, a commercial competitor of the Halal Trust, led the litigation is interesting. But given the antagonistic, cut-throat nature of the multi-million rand halal industry, SANHA’s intervention is perhaps not surprising.

The MJC Halal Trust might have certified only pre-packaged chicken consignments, but its lethargic reaction to what was seen as a crisis in the community in terms of certifying pork as halal created suspicion with Patta and her producer, Barbara Friedman. 3rd Degree had originally delayed broadcast hoping for the MJC to respond to its questions.

Struggling to get a commitment for an interview, Patta and her crew arrived at the MJC offices to doorstop deputy-president, Shaikh Achmat Sedick. After being assured by a harried spokesman that the president and deputy-president were off ill, the e-TV crew discovered that their cars were in the parking lot.

With this tableau played out on national television, the Muslim community suffered what Mufti AK Hoosain of Channel Islam in Gauteng has described as a “real disgrace”, a PR disaster in which Muslims were “caught with their pants down” in front of South Africa.

Stunned by the public outrage, the MJC moved swiftly to give itself voice on social media platforms such as YouTube and Facebook, a refreshing change from its thoroughly moribund website and usually condescending PR.

The organisation did itself absolutely no favours, though, when Voice of the Cape radio station’s jumu’ah broadcast at St Athans’ Rd mosque in Athlone was allegedly commandeered by an MJC official. This caused a ruckus after the prayers, and serious concerns amongst Voice of the Cape stakeholders.

As the Facebook threads grew longer the clamour rose. Some respondents (particularly from PAGAD and the National Consumer Forum) called for the MJC – founded in 1945 as a judiciary – to disband.

A week after the broadcast, the MJC mustered a press conference at its Cashel Avenue headquarters. At the conference, MJC president Maulana Igshan Hendricks finally promised that the MJC would grant Deborah Patta a “one-on-one” interview.

The media was assured that the Halal Trust had never certified pork. Orion’s labels were fraudulent. The Halal Trust’s books were audited, were available for scrutiny and the organisation had “good standing” with SARS. Seventy-five percent of Halal Trust funds were ploughed back into MJC social projects.

During the press conference, a handful of PAGAD and National Consumer Forum members picketing outside the building were involved in a scuffle with MJC security guards. Police arrived but did not make any arrests.

Finally, whether the MJC has managed to rise out of the ashes of its worst-ever PR disaster is the big question.

Farid Esack, head of religious studies at the University of Johannesburg, believes that the MJC will bounce back. He told the Cape Times that it was not unlike the ANC. No matter how many times it blundered it would rise again due to its deeply-rooted history. Social media commentators feel that the MJC will have learnt the futility of arrogance towards the media.

The broader halal issues, of course, have not gone away. The South African halal industry has become a parody of itself for the sake of very big money, or as Mufti AK Hoosain says: “scholars for dollars”.

Indeed, for when items regarded as pure and uncontaminated by their very nature such as coffee and water are accorded Halal certification, then one has to seriously interrogate our scholars’ basic understanding of Sacred Law.

And whilst no-one denies notoriously underpaid imams and officials their financial due, all the Halal bodies will surely have to come up with credible ways to empower the largely impoverished communities that ultimately pay for the Halal process.

Áshura: the right to know the difference

ON our community calendar there’s what I call a series of “seasons”. And like spring, summer, autumn or winter, they have their moods. One such “season” is Muharram, which marks the beginning of the Islamic year.

This is because it is a sacred month in which major events occurred, especially on the 10th day: for example, the creation of Adam and Eve and the escape of the Bani Isra’il from the Pharaoh.

However, its wider significance is often eclipsed by the martyrdom of Hussein, the son of Sayyidina ‘Ali, the noble Prophet’s cousin. His passing (in 680 CE) on the 10th of Muharram is lamented for ten days by the Shi’ah sect, and is called “‘Ashura”.

Hussain’s slaying – also lamented by Sunnis, but without the ritualistic dramaturgy of the Shi’ah – is an event hallmarked by the intrigue that characterised the politics of the era.

For instance, this is why Sayyidina ‘Ali – condemned for being too lenient in punishing the assassins of his predecessor, ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan – was forced to lead an army against A’isha bint Abu Bakr, one of the Prophet’s (SAW) wives, at Basra.

Historically, the problem has always been that the Prophet (SAW) left no indications as to what political system Muslims should adopt after his demise. It was a “consensus of the elders” that had elected the first Caliph, Abu Bakr.

It was this decision that led to a measure of dissent amongst ‘Ali’s supporters. Their view was that Abu Bakr, and the succeeding Caliphs ‘Umar and ‘Uthman, should not have accepted office ahead of ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib, a blood relative of the Prophet (SAW).

The Shi’ah quote the Hadith of Khumm, related after the final Hajj, which has the Prophet (SAW) passing the mantle of Commander on to Sayyidina ‘Ali, and Sayyidina ‘Umar pledging allegiance. Sunni scholars do not accept this interpretation of the Hadith.

Nevertheless, ‘Ali became the fourth Righteous Caliph, but he was handed a poisoned chalice: those who had been associated with the assassination of ‘Uthman supported him becoming Caliph.

So when ‘Uthman’s kinsman in Damascus, Mu’awiyyah, refused to accept ‘Ali’s rule, a schism arose in the Islamic realm. In public interest Sayyidina ‘Ali submitted to arbitration. He was assassinated by Ibn Muljam, a Kharijite, who claimed that ‘Ali had committed apostasy by allowing human intervention.

“Kharijite” originates from the Arabic root word “kharaja”, and means “seceder”, or one who “goes out”. Their belief was that jihad was a sixth pillar of Islam; and that if a Muslim sinned he became an infidel or a kafir.

Scholars such as Sayyid ibn Zaini Dahlan consider the offshoot of the Kharijites to be the modern Salafi-Wahhabis, the disciples of Ibn ‘Abd ul-Wahhab, the 18th century Saudi cleric. Kharijite (and Wahhabi) opposition to the Shi’ah spans over 1,300 years. For their ilk the Shi’ah are kafir and their blood halal – a view contrary to Sunni legal thought.

After Sayyidina ‘Ali’s demise, Mu’awiyyah became the Caliph. And as the centuries passed, the Shi’at ul-‘Ali (the party of ‘Ali) grew into a sectarian doctrine. There are historians such as Tabari who say Shi’ism was introduced by Abdullah ibn Sabah, a Yemeni Jew, who embraced Islam and declared ‘Ali divine.

Ibn Kathir also refers to this, but the question of Ibn Sabah is an academic minefield.

Shi’ah culture was definitely strengthened by the slaying of Hussain at Karbala. This was after Mu’awiyyah died and his son, Yazid, took power. Hussain’s elder brother, Hasan, had already retired from public life. Today, the Shi’ah curse Yazid and the Salafi-Wahhabis praise him. The Sunni ‘ulama, seeking balance, say that he had good and bad qualities.

Like his father, Hussain was caught up in events beyond his control. The citizens of Kufa, unhappy at Yazid’s Caliphate, wrote a letter to Hussain, requesting him to come to the city as their leader. But whilst he was en-route, Kufa switched allegiance to the Ummayads.

Hussain encountered Yazid’s forces at Karbala outside Kufa. After a 10-day siege during which time he refused to pledge allegiance to Yazid, his small party was slaughtered – Hussain dying with his infant son in his arms. His head was cut off and delivered to Yazid in Damascus.

The poetic lamentations about Karbala, recited during ‘Ashura, are famous in Shi’ah lore, as are the self-flagellations of Shi’ah devotees.

I’ve already said that calling the Shi’ah kafir has never been the Sunni way. The Shi’ah perform the Hajj. But during the ‘Ashura season, when emotions run high, there has to be a more level-headed community understanding of Shi’ah belief.

Yes, there is divergence, and in the spirit of adab i-ikhtilaf (the ethics of argument) surely it would be better to face these differences than to indulge in pulpit bashing or, worse still, killing the messenger by targeting the media?

Briefly, there are key points where Sunnis differ with the Shi’ah. But surely, the goal of confronting these differences should be comprehension rather than conflict, and critical empathy rather than emotion-soaked enmity?

The primary sticking-point for the Sunni world is that the historical Shi’ah imams, leading up to the end-times Mahdi, are regarded as infallible. Sunni theology only accords perfection and lack of sin to prophets. It does not agree that mere humans can enjoy the same status.

Whilst there are some similarities to the Sunnis in the application of Shi’ah Sacred Law, Sunni theologians do not agree with the rationalistic Shi’ah view that the Qur’an was “created”. In Sunni theology, the Qur’an was inherently “uncreated”.

Shi’ah aversion of Traditions transmitted by A’isha, Sayyidina Abu Bakr, ‘Umar and ‘Uthman, is problematic for Sunni Hadith scholars. The edict of temporary marriage, or mut’ah, permitted by Shi’ah fiqh seriously troubles Sunni jurists.

Finally, the fact that taqiyyah, the disguising of one’s true beliefs, is obligatory in Shi’ism is an anathema to the four prominent Sunni schools of legal thought, which only permit such dissembling if one’s life is at stake.

Obviously, space does not permit more than a cursory look at some complex questions, but it has to be said that the paranoia about Shi’ism during Muharram is baffling. Surely the right to know the difference, on an intellectual level, should be the preserve of every Muslim, Shi’ah or Sunni?

Al-Shabab - Taliban of the Horn

WE never came across Al-Shabab forces in Mogadishu, but reminders of their presence was everywhere – from the bullet-ridden pasta factory to the IDP camps dotted around the city. Fighters had only been forced out by AMISOM forces a month before, and there were still pockets of resistance.

The crump of mortars and volleys of gunfire we heard every night in our compound reminded us just how close the conflict still was, as did the grenade blast around the corner at the Medecins Sans Frontieres offices.

Public spaces were safer, but our armed technicals would get jittery if we stopped to get out of our vehicles. They had good reason. In urban areas, Al-Shabab had become faceless.

Two weeks before our arrival a car loaded with explosives had been defused at Banadir Hospital. Several NGO’s worked there. Foreign fatalities would have been disastrous for the Transitional Federal Government (the TFG).

However, we did locate a group of Al-Shabab fighters in Mogadishu, albeit a group of defectors who were being “rehabilitated”.

We found them at a rudimentary camp near to the “pink house” where Al-Qaeda suspects were held by the Somali National Security Agency (the NSA) under the aegis of a covert US military command.

We arrived unannounced. The rehab camp, in operation for about three months (and its location no secret to anyone in Mogadishu), was a series of nondescript cement buildings amongst the dunes.

The somewhat surprised camp commander, Abdurahman Omar Osman, welcomed us. He made a call to get authorisation for us to visit. Permission was granted, the only condition being that we couldn’t interview the camp inmates, some 213 people.

That was disappointing. I knew that these ex-Al-Shabab fighters would have been processed by the NSA. Their security threat would have been zero, and their personal accounts would have made great human interest stories.

An Associated Press journalist had been briefly allowed to interview some of these Al-Shabab defectors, but – for whatever reason – the instruction was that SA journalists could not.

The defectors gathered around us as we chatted, and I could see that Al-Shabab – which means “the youth” – was an apt moniker. These were all very young men, some hardly old enough to have facial hair.

They were all Somali. Neither did they look like cold-blooded killers guilty of the beheadings, amputations and bombings for which Al-Shabab had become feared. They looked more like the hungry, jobless kind of adolescents you could see on any corner in East Africa.

Their ages ranged from 9 to 45 years, said Osman. The majority of Al-Shabab’s 14,000-strong force was under 25, and conscripting children younger than 15 years – which Al-Shabab actively did – was a war crime.

The 9-year old boy, Liban Mohammed, had been interviewed by AP, saying he’d been conscripted as a “spy”.

We moved out of the hot sun and settled down in Osman’s office, an echoingly empty room with a desk, a computer and a few plastic chairs. We asked him why these young men had defected.

“They are forced into things. They are told that music and TV are forbidden, and that they have to beat women …they also find that the killing is too much…that what they are doing is wrong,” explained Osman in halting English.

In reply as to why Somalis joined Al-Shabab, Osman said that Al-Shabab lured the unemployed and uneducated with promises of opportunity, but that fighters had also been kidnapped from schools and villagers.

He added that the defectors told him they’d been ordered to prevent people in the drought-stricken villages and towns (who paid Al-Shabab taxes) from fleeing the famine, and that the men had sometimes been shot.

The idea of the rehabilitation camp, the brainchild of a former Interior Minister, was to re-integrate Al-Shabab fighters into Somali society. The long term plan was to teach the youth job skills, but a lack of funding was hindering the process.

Back in central Mogadishu I questioned our translator, Abdi Nasser, about Al-Shabab (whose leadership had pledged allegiance to Al-Qaeda in 2009). He said the organisation was currently divided into three and was not as homogenous as people thought it was.

He told me that originally about 90% of Somalis had supported Al-Shabab after the Ethiopian invasion of 2006 and the defeat of the Islamic Courts Union.

“People initially supported Al-Shabab because they thought they were good Muslims who would create order. But now after the all killings people realise Al-Shabab is extremist, and try to avoid it,” he said.

I asked Abdi Nasser how Al-Shabab rule had affected the citizens of Mogadishu, Somalia’s capital.

“Under them Mogadishu was a horrible place. Very dangerous. Now we’re sitting together; then it was very hard to sit and chat. They (Al-Shabab) were killing the people, even slaughtering women and using young kids as soldiers.”

He added sombrely that if AMISOM were to leave, Al-Shabab would be back in Mogadishu the next day. Abdi Nasser, a businessman, was understandably cynical about Somali politics, but said that he could only hope for the best from the TFG.

I also spoke to Abdi Harari, a 35-year old TFG soldier who’d been in uniform since 1999, and asked what he thought about fighting his own countrymen.

“They (Al-Shabab) have no mercy. They will kill me if they catch me. But when we capture them, we don’t kill them. One of our troops was captured by Al-Shabab and the leader told the man’s very own cousin to execute him.”

What was so appalling from the above – and so many of my interviews in Somalia – was the constant mention of death, this apart from the horrific attrition of the famine. Al Shabab, once a beacon of hope in a country desperate for solutions, had become yet another grim political reaper.

This underlined the biggest failing of Al-Shabab’s fundamentalist Salafi-Wahhabi ethos – its inherent neo-fascism, something that rushed into the political vacuum created by the meddling of Ethiopia and the US in the name of the “war on terror”.

In the hands of the remaining uneducated and illiterate, their angry black-and-white universe enables the blood of the other, “the infidel”, to become halal – and for the Sacred Law to become an ass.

This is why the Afghan Taliban could ban singing canaries, marginalise women educators, forbid music, amputate at will, justify suicide bombing and indulge in the cultural terrorism of dynamiting the Bamiyan Buddhas.

This is why, in exactly the same vein, Al-Shabab could declare three-cornered samoosas haraam; why women wearing bras could be whipped in public, and why school bells could be banned. This is why Al-Shabab could justify killing fellow Somalis in public suicide bombings.

This is why Al-Shabab could smash Sufi shrines and zawiyyahs – and in a disgusting act of irreverence – dig up the bodies of the Shaikhs. This is why a 13-year old gang-rape victim could be buried up to her head in a football stadium and stoned to death for adultery.

This article ends the series on Somalia.

Where's the beef? Halal meat scandal rocks the community

THE three minute video on YouTube is often out of focus; it pixellates when there is lots of movement. But one thing is clear. Something fishy is afoot in a Cape Town refrigeration plant, where we are shown boxes on an assembly line.

When the cameraman zooms in on a label we can see that it reads “pork”. As the video moves on, workers are seen again – this time using a heat gun to remove labels. Generic halal signs are then pasted on to the boxes, and we see that they now say “veal hearts”.

Amazed, I’ve watched this video several times, and freeze-framed it to make sure what I’ve just seen. Whether this YouTube vignette is proof enough for criminal conviction is another question, but it has certainly caused a major furore.

This is because Orion Cold Storage, a Muizenberg-based refrigeration company, stands accused by two unidentified informants of relabeling imported meat products – including pork – as halal and passing them on to the unsuspecting consumer.

In an urgent High Court interdict it was alleged that Orion had also relabelled expired broiler turkeys from Shoprite Checkers; that it had relabelled animal feed milk powder as being fit for human consumption; that it had sold kangaroo meat as halal chuck-and-blade and that it had marketed water buffalo as beef.

The story was broken by Voice of the Cape and Eye Witness News, immediately raising temperatures in a community still reeling from the Hajj visa scandals.

Orion Cold Storage MD, Patrick Gaertner, replied that he’d been “set-up”, claiming that one of the “informants” (whom he did not name) was an unrehabilitated insolvent and former employee. The other, he claimed, worked for an opposition company (which he also did not name).

He said he valued his Muslim customers and that he intended to prove that he’d been subjected to “blackmail”. Gaertner also claimed that he had been threatened.

An interim interdict was lodged at the High Court against Orion by the South African National Halal Authority (SANHA), the Red Meat Industry Forum, the South African Meat Industry Company and other parties.

The application was supported by the Muslim Judicial Council and its Halal Trust (MJCHT), which had certified 18 containers of chickens imported by Orion. Gaertner had also claimed (before the hearing) that he’d enjoyed a “close” relationship with the MJCHT.

Shaikh Achmat Sedick, Deputy MJC president, had replied on Channel Islam that the MJCHT had not operated inside Orion’s plant. It was not a slaughtering facility, and the MJCHT had only checked the Halal credentials of poultry consignments from Denmark and Brazil.

He said the MJCHT had no responsibility for goods in Orion’s freezers, and had not certified any other Orion products. Maulana Ebrahim Adam, a spokesperson for the MJCHT, said on Voice of the Cape that Gaertner’s claims of a close relationship with the MJC were exaggerated and untrue.

In an affidavit Orion denied that it had altered any labels, claiming that the videotaped incidents were orchestrated without knowledge of management. A haggard-looking Gaertner said that the informants were untrustworthy and undertook to work closely with the MJC.

He told the judge he would welcome the MJCHT being at his premises to assure the public that his procedures were halal-compliant, and pledged that labels would not be changed on imported goods. The judge made this undertaking an order of the court, and that if the company did not comply, it would be in contempt.

Attorney for the applicants, Amish Kita, told the media outside court that the outcome of the interdict would not prevent his clients from ensuring that Orion be criminally investigated for fraud.

Spokesperson for the National Islamic Halal Trust (NIHT), Maulana Abdul Wahab Wookay, said that the Orion saga emphasised the need for uniform Halal standards between countries. He added that his organisation did not accept imports at face value, and that NIHT had been so “stern” that 85 butchers in the Gauteng region no longer imported meat.

He proposed a national Halal meat trader’s summit to iron out the problems, especially with butchers who imported dubious meat products.

However, as the dust begins to settle on the Orion saga, it becomes evident that there is much more to the court application than meets the eye. It has to be asked, for example, why Orion, a Cape Town company under the geographical domain of the MJCHT, had to be taken to court by SANHA, a Gauteng-based body, with no connections to Orion.

SANHA, reportedly the most reluctant of the parties of the National Halal Forum, could indeed claim “public interest” in this case which has certainly evoked much community ire, but it’s not enough to convince those in the know that the upstaging of the MJCHT might just have been on the cards.

Both organisations will vehemently deny this, but they are commercial rivals who’ve been locked in a longstanding multi-million rand turf war that has seen products such as bottled water, toothpicks, coffee, pasta, wet-wipes, sugar, lentils, mixed nuts, spices, breakfast cereal, canned fish and even sago being certified Halal.

The Orion case is also a neat distraction from the real issue, where God-given ibahah (initial permissibility) is turned on its head to prey on the fears of a Halal- ignorant public who don’t know any better.

The other point, made vociferously by the National Consumer Forum, is that the paying public sees no direct benefit whatsoever from the proceeds of the Halal certification, and that a regulation of the regulators is long overdue.

The blonde lady & surfing the other side of apartheid

This piece was written for the 35th anniversay edition of Zig-Zag Surfing Magazine

I can’t believe that Zig-Zag is 35 years old. That’s a lot of pages.

Wasn’t it only yesterday that the mag was pasted up in a garage, and we shot pics in Kodachrome 64? I can still remember those first muddy black and white “action” shots, and the ultimate luxury, a grainy double-page colour spread.

But it was an era in which it was a privilege to grow up surfing. The waters were less crowded, False Bay sharks were mellow and there was genuine camaraderie in the line-up.

In my part of the woods, Johnny Paarman had earned the moniker, “Iceman”. In the power zones he was fearless and unbeatable.

I also pioneered surf photography down south, swimming at giant Sunset for the first time and getting my sinuses flushed with kelp.

Those were the days when Pierre de Villiers and Peter Button had just ridden a spot called Dungeons near Hout Bay.

“It gets bigger than the Crayfish Factory,” I remember Pierre telling Davey Stolk with typical understatement. Pierre and Peter used to hike over the mountain and then paddle out. Thank God I never swam at Dungeons. My sinuses.

But I think some of my most cherished memories are of the mid 80’s when South Africa was living through turbulent times. Of course, we carried on surfing. That’s what surfers do.

Many of my surfing mates were on the other side of the apartheid fence. Catching waves came against the background of police harassment and prejudice. But, hell, it was still fun.

It all started when Davey Stolk and I befriended people such as Shani Nagia, Ahmed Collier, Mogamad Davids, Tahir Davids, Faeez Abrahams and Rafiq Bagus. Rafiq, who won the SASU title before Cass swept the boards, was a street-wise survivor like Stolk.

In fact, I challenge anybody – even today – to throw Stolk or Bagus from the top of a building. By the time you’ve caught the lift to the ground floor, they’ll both be wiping the butter off their feet.

Another indomitable character was Ahmed Collier, father of Cass Collier – a talented athlete and fearless big wave rider, who went on the ASP Tour without surfing a single heat in SA against a white competitor.

Cass definitely got his balls from his father. Ahmed never stood back for anyone, and it was he who first paddled out at Long Beach, breaking all the racial taboos and really getting in your face if you didn’t like it.

Shani had started Wynberg Surf Club, the backbone of non-racial surfing, and later SASU, which was aligned with the anti-apartheid body, SACOS. Shani – still an unheralded and unrecognised figure – would also be one of the leading forces in surfing unity.

By 1984 Wynberg made contact with surfers in J-Bay, Port Elizabeth and Durban. The Jappie family in PE, the Jeggels’ in J-Bay and Terence Naidoo in Durban were the stalwarts.

SASU held national champs in J-Bay, Cape Town and Durban, and I remember Cheron Kraak of Billabong being the first sponsor. It was at Kitchen Windows that Cass Collier and Steven Jeggels first showcased their talents.

Stolk and I joined Wynberg, much to the shock and chagrin of the establishment, but we both felt that we were right. Black surfing was on the rise, and black surfers weren’t allowed to surf on white beaches. We felt we could make a difference.

The Cape Flats, where most of the surfers came from, was burning. Stolk and I got caught in the middle. We realised the seriousness of the anti-apartheid uprisings when we saw people dying in the streets.

But there was a funny side too. This is because the Security Branch started to take a keen interest in Wynberg Surf Club and its members, some of whom were the sons of a famous UDF activist, Essa Moosa.

The Branch took to following us around. We got to recognise a certain officer Mostert, who sported a bristling Voortrekker beard. He was relentless. Late one night he managed to collar one of our members, Addie.

He took him to a police station, and started slapping him around, as was the usual custom.

“Where is the fokkin guns? We know you donnerse fokkers has buried them on the beach?” thundered Mostert, who was trying to catch Rafiq for public violence.

“What does you discuss at your secret meetings on the waves?” he asked.

“Uh, we talk about J-Bay,” answered Addie innocently.

In their paranoia the Security Branch had thought we were about to launch a military attack on the Western Cape. But even when it became obvious that Addie (and the club) were not part of an Umkhonto Isizwe unit, Mostert still didn’t give up.

“And who’s that blonde lady with you?” he asked. This time Addie was really perplexed. Blonde lady? But his interrogator was insistent. It was then that that Addie realised Mostert was referring to me. In the 1980’s I still had hair.

True to form, Mostert pitched up at my work early one morning, but I managed to escape. As usual I was late, and Mostert – his usual impatient self – was leaving as I arrived. Ah yes, those were the days.

The Russell Tribunal: I think Israel is an apartheid state

LIKE so many interested in the course of the Russell Tribunal on Palestine, I will be keenly watching the Cape Town leg, which is the third of its hearings on Palestine.

With its brief to examine the superiority of international law in solving the Palestinian conflict, those eminent personalities standing before the jurors will be more than well-versed in what they have to say about apartheid as crime against humanity in the Israeli context.

Initiated by Lord Bertrand Russell in 1966, the original Russell Tribunal was originally founded to look at war atrocities in Vietnam. The Tribunal was supported by a host of intellectuals and academics. Its first chairman was the French philosopher, Jean Paul-Sartre.

The Russell Tribunal on Palestine, employing the same principles as similar tribunals in Vietnam and South America, had already sat in Barcelona and London on the question of European Union and corporate complicity with Israel.

The Russell Tribunal enjoys no legal status, and has been described by its officers as a “tribunal of the people,” one which examines instances of injustice and violations of international law that are not dealt with by the international community.

For pro-Israeli lobbyists the Russell Tribunal is seen as an annoyance, a pesky distraction capable of making a noise, but incapable of executive decisions.

As a journalist, Palestine and the Middle East has been one my beats, and I’ve been there on assignment on numerous occasions covering a variety of issues over the past 15 years. My conclusion – after having interviewed hundreds of people from all sides of the conflict – is that Israel, basically an ethnic island in a sea of Arabs, is an apartheid state.

Having made that bald statement, let me qualify my view. This is because Russell Tribunal naysayers will immediately assume that I’m drawing cosy parallels and vehemently deny that comparisons can be made between apartheid South Africa and contemporary Israel.

The point is hardly the comparison, but that as South Africans we are better positioned than most to understand the layered nuances and emotions of institutionalised racism. And whilst Israel is a different place to South Africa, the similarity is in the naked intent of political power – to subjugate another people in the name of an ideological, ethnic agenda.

It is our empathy and understanding – as well as our practical experience of a hard fought for peace process – that we bring to the table as South Africans.

There is, of course, the fact that apartheid has gone on to enjoy a generic definition via the Rome Statutes of the International Criminal Court. The South African model no longer applies. Today apartheid is regarded as an inhumane act in the context of it being a crime against humanity.

The Rome Statutes are confined to violations of international law committed after 2002. And so for the purpose here, without venturing into the complexities of Middle Eastern history, I’ll confine myself to a small sample of what I’ve witnessed since 2002 – things that I would consider worth examination by those who argue so passionately that Israel is not guilty of apartheid.

But, to a brief comparison: when I first landed in Tel Aviv in 1997, fresh from years of covering the anti-apartheid struggle and the TRC, I was shocked.

For a brief moment Israel was like a post-traumatic stress flashback to South Africa. Communities surrounded by guns, pimply teenage conscripts with power beyond their wisdom, prickly attitudes – and the mind-numbing bureaucracy – reminded me of home in the 1980’s.

However, there was a vital difference to South African apartheid. This was a point repeated to me to me by Ribbon Mosholi, International Relations Manager for the ANC, who visited Palestine late last year.

She was initaially shocked too, saying she had never thought she would come across another system like South Africa. During South African apartheid people had been banned and put under house arrest. In Palestine people were not banned, but a whole nation.

And that is the most critical divergence between South African and Israeli apartheid. Rather than confining those of other races into group areas, Israeli apartheid has essentially focused on denying the existence of a people.

To put it bluntly, it’s Erez Israel – a greater racially defined Israel – or bust. Israeli political scientist, Professor Ilan Pappe, has gone so far as to call Zionism a policy of Palestinian “ethnic cleansing”.

That is why Gaza is such a huge issue. If confining a population the size of Mitchell’s Plain (or Soweto) into an area equivalent to the Cape Point Nature Reserve, and then completely sealing it off to starve, is not a form of institutionalised racism, then what is?

The pro-Israeli lobby also has to ask itself questions about operation Cast Lead in Gaza in 2009. I was shown pictures in a medical report of flechettes (limb-cutting devices) found in explosives that had killed and maimed civilians.

What about the phosphorous bomb, banned by international convention, which landed in the courtyard of a Gaza school? I’m in no way justifying Israeli civilians being targeted, but asymmetric response with internationally sanctioned weaponry is obscenely beyond the law.

What needs to be answered too are the concerns of municipal officials I spoke to from Nablus and Gaza about over a million people having their water periodically cut off during the summer months; this done against the background of Palestinian West Bankers not being allowed to dig wells.

They wanted to know why the illegal settlements, which consist of about 40% of the current West Bank population, used 80% of Palestinian water resources.

Then there has to be investigation into the “unrecognised” towns and villages deliberately denied water, electricity and municipal status. There are plenty of these in the Galilee and Negev regions if anybody wants to look for them.

People such as the esteemed Judge Richard Goldstone have argued that Israel is not an apartheid state. And yes, there may not be “Jews only” signs on Haifa’s park benches, but what about Palestinians who have to travel on separate roads to settlers, and West Bankers (carrying ID documents not dissimilar to the dompas) who cannot enter Jerusalem?

After 2002 I saw the construction of the West Bank Wall, or “Apartheid Wall”, which has completely destroyed the fabric of Palestinian life.

Five metres higher than the old Berlin Wall, the “Apartheid Wall” was declared an unlawful construction by the International Court of Justice in 2004, and has stripped away swathes of Palestinian territory. I defy anyone to argue that the West Bank Wall is not an instrument of forceful racial separation.

At the end of the day, the issue is not whether the Russell Tribunal enjoys executive powers or not. The issue is that the Russell Tribunal is an opportunity for civil society to see things in Israel for what they really are without the camp Zion-isms, the political absolutisms and the crude distortions that currently bedevil its fretful landscape.