By admin 
Sharpeville, South Africa – The lingering wounds of a brutal past remain vividly etched in the memory and body of Abraham Mofokeng, a survivor of the infamous Sharpeville massacre 66 years ago. On March 21, 1960, police unleashed a torrent of bullets on thousands of peaceful demonstrators protesting against the draconian pass laws of the apartheid regime. Mofokeng, then just 20 years old, bears physical testament to that day, with a bullet still lodged in his spine and a permanent limp from a gunshot wound to his leg. "We weren’t seen as people," the 86-year-old recounted to the BBC, his voice heavy with the weight of decades of injustice. "All you were good for was working. You couldn’t question them, you were supposed to just do as you’re told."
The Sharpeville massacre, a pivotal moment in the struggle against apartheid, starkly exposed the barbarity of the white-minority government to the global stage. Yet, a year after the killings, an indemnity law was enacted, effectively shielding the perpetrators from any prosecution or legal recourse for their actions. Now, Mofokeng and other survivors are pinning their hopes on a landmark legal case, announced on Thursday, which seeks to dismantle this enduring injustice by overturning the 1961 Indemnity Act.
The township of Sharpeville, which lent its name to this dark chapter of South African history, now presents a poignant, yet melancholic, landscape. Once paved roads have largely reverted to dirt, many of the houses remain the modest, functional brick structures built during the apartheid era, and the dry, barren earth is often marred by accumulating rubbish. While the overt, legalised system of racial segregation was dismantled in 1994 with the dawn of democracy and the election of Nelson Mandela as president, the deep scars of apartheid continue to manifest.
Efforts to address the legacy of apartheid have included the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) by Mandela’s government. The TRC was tasked with investigating gross human rights violations committed during the apartheid era, offering a platform for victims to share their stories and for perpetrators to seek amnesty by fully disclosing their actions. However, for the survivors of Sharpeville, the TRC process, while offering some measure of acknowledgement, has not equated to true justice.
The Human Rights Precinct in Sharpeville, a memorial park dedicated to the victims, stands as a stark reminder of the bloodshed that stained these streets. Sixty-nine white pillars, each representing a life lost, pierce the sky. The victims were protesting against the oppressive pass laws, a system that mandated black South Africans to carry a "dompas" (passbook) at all times. This document severely restricted their movement, and failure to produce it, or being found in a "whites-only" area without permission, could result in severe punishment, including beatings and imprisonment.
Mofokeng vividly recalls the day the Pan Africanist Congress called for a march against these dehumanizing passbooks. "The life we were living under apartheid was a life of oppression," he stated. "We could not move around freely. We ended up planning to march to the police station against these passbooks that were being used to oppress us." Thousands heeded the call, anticipating a peaceful demonstration. "They had rifles, machetes, even shields," Mofokeng recounted, describing the police presence. "We explained to the police that we didn’t want the passes anymore and we were prepared to go to prison. There was a commotion, then all hell broke loose when the police started shooting."
Mofokeng was among the more than 200 people injured that day. More recent research by South African academics has revised the estimated death toll upwards, suggesting as many as 91 individuals may have perished.
Another survivor, 90-year-old Larazus Magotsi, walks through the cemetery where many of the massacre’s victims are laid to rest, including a headstone marking the burial of a 12-year-old. His voice trembles as he recounts the horrors he witnessed. "We heard gunshots and ran and hid inside a store, peeping to see what was happening outside," he shared. "People were lying on the ground. When we looked out again, we saw that some were trying to get up, but the police were just shooting at them. Others were using machetes to strike the heads of people who were still moving." It is estimated that over 1,300 bullets were fired into the unarmed crowd. Disturbing archival photographs depict police officers calmly walking among the fallen bodies in the immediate aftermath.
The only legal action that followed the massacre was a failed attempt to charge the surviving protesters with affray. Now, the survivors and relatives of those who were killed are seeking to dismantle the legal shield that has prevented them from achieving any form of justice.
The 1961 Indemnity Act, a legislative response by the apartheid government, has remained on the statute books, precluding criminal charges or civil claims against police and government officials for events related to Sharpeville. Despite over three decades of democratic governance, this law continues to stand as a barrier to accountability.
In a significant development, the South African non-governmental organisation Lawyers for Human Rights, in collaboration with the UK-based law firm Leigh Day, has filed a case at the High Court. Their argument is that the Indemnity Act is unconstitutional under the current South African constitution, which came into effect in 1994. "Apart from the individual damages, what the community’s looking for is basically reparations to enable their healing," stated Charne Tracey, one of the lawyers involved in the case. "They feel as though Sharpeville is a forgotten community."
A crucial aspect of their legal application is the request for a class action certification. If approved, this would empower dozens of victims and their relatives to collectively sue the state for the first time. It also opens the possibility of criminal charges being brought against any alleged perpetrators who may still be alive. "Nothing has been done that assists with their healing and improvement of their quality of life, or remedy the long-term effects of what they’ve suffered," Tracey added, noting that approximately 70 individuals could be part of this potential class action.
Professor Frans Viljoen, a constitutional law expert, emphasizes the importance of repealing the old law. He believes it is essential for "cleaning up" the legislative framework and "closing a chapter on the past." While acknowledging the principle of continuity of statehood, which allows for cases to be brought against the current government for past actions, Viljoen supports the move to declare the Indemnity Act unconstitutional. "So if there were laws in our statute book in 1994, the constitution explicitly says they remain in force until parliament repeals them, abolishes them or changes them," he explained, reinforcing the need for legislative action to "cleanse us of that past."
The TRC, under the leadership of Archbishop Desmond Tutu, was a significant mechanism for acknowledging past atrocities. While generally praised for its role in bringing victims and perpetrators together, it faced criticism for not delivering sufficient justice in the eyes of many. A key concern was the lack of jail time for perpetrators and the fact that no police officers applied for amnesty for the Sharpeville shootings.
The South African government has stated that it has supported apartheid victims over the years and will continue to do so, while also indicating it does not oppose survivors and families pursuing legal remedies. The Department of Justice reported that 560 TRC-recognized victims of apartheid-era violence have received individual grants totaling approximately $31 million (£23 million). While acknowledging that not all Sharpeville survivors and relatives may have been identified, the department encourages them to come forward.
For many within the Sharpeville community, the hope is that restitution will serve as a catalyst for healing the deep-seated trauma that has persisted for decades. "Apartheid is dead and buried," Mofokeng declared, his words resonating with a profound sense of longing. "A win would bring complete healing, not just for us, but for future generations as well. Considering how people died, many have not completely healed." The legal challenge represents not just a quest for financial compensation, but a deeply felt yearning for acknowledgement, accountability, and the closure that true justice can bring to a community forever marked by the echoes of Sharpeville.
