Behind Prison Walls: Unlocking a Safer South Africa
Edwin Cameron, Rebecca Gore and Sohela Surajpal, Behind Prison Walls: Unlocking a Safer South Africa (Cape Town: Tafelberg, 2025)
THERE are 243 prisons in South Africa; everywhere, but nowhere and according to these perceptive authors largely out of sight and mind. While a necessary part of any society (there are 70 murders a day) and run in our name, they are also secretive. In spite of the high intentions of a democratic country that they should be places of rehabilitation rather than retribution, in practice mass incarceration and sentence inflation have been the norm. Renowned for overcrowding, poor upkeep and health and security hazards, gangs are rife. Edwin Cameron and his co-author colleagues from the JICS (Judicial Inspectorate for Correctional Services) conclude that ’our prisons perpetuate criminality.’ And this, they point out, is a collective social responsibility that could be addressed by better policing and a more effective court system.
Cameron has been highly aware of prisons all his life; as judge’s registrar, human rights lawyer, judge (including the Constitutional Court) and now chief inspector; and he sets the tone of this thoughtful and largely engaging book with a short personal introduction. There is likewise a succinct explanation of the colonial and apartheid origins of prisons; a high proportion of whose inmates were in effect political prisoners convicted of transgressing the laws enacted to maintain white supremacy.
In spite of stated intentions, old habits have persisted. Public perception by all South Africa’s communities of a post-apartheid crime wave made it politic to follow American policy of mass incarceration with ‘wars’ on crime and drugs. Such aggressive rhetoric led to the reintroduction of military ranks to the police service, which again became a force. A punitive approach played to a feeling that the constitution favoured criminals rather than victims. But the authors argue that there has been no ‘monstrous crime wave’.
South Africa currently has 165,000 prisoners of whom 60,000 (well over a third) are on remand. A temporary policy of mandatory minimum sentencing eventually became permanent with a major increase in lifers who currently constitute 12% of inmates (a 360% increase over thirty years). Now a smaller proportion of murderers is jailed for much longer but harsh sentencing has turned out to be a blunt instrument. As this book points out, the deterrent lies in the certainty of being caught and convicted not the severity of sentencing. Long sentences are not keeping the public safe and there has been an absolute and proportionate increase in murder since 2010, back to the level of 1995.
Also emulating an American model is the supermax prison, of which only two (at Kokstad and Pretoria) have been built. The authors recount how they are places of unnatural silence and isolation in which prolonged solitary confinement may amount to torture. It appears that they violate a number of constitutionally protected rights.
A vicious cycle of crime and punishment generally results in prisoners being decanted back into the same, or worse, circumstances from which they originated; a revolving door with a recidivism rate upwards of 60%. Prisons are 54% overcrowded: at Westville, for example, 81 inmates were found in a cell designed for twenty in appalling conditions amid the stench of urine and dagga. Violence can be of three types, but that of staff on prisoners recalls apartheid custom together with connivance and lying. Yet the staff are also being let down by the authorities.
The openness of legal process shuts down at the point of imprisonment; so, who watches the guards? JCIS has no binding powers and is financed by the Department of Correctional Services. There is no meaningful independence. Is the inspectorate, in place now for 25 years, simply a veneer acting as a palliative, a body with bark but no bite as one prisoner put it. This book is honest about limitations but points to the role of JCIS in defending constitutional rights, providing a watchdog role (as in the Thabo Bester case), and encouraging innovation.
Prisons are teeming with those involved in cases related to drugs and prostitution but dangerous criminals evade prosecution and government and parliament are well populated by the corrupt who should be behind bars. Despair and cynicism about this engender vigilantism and mob justice, simply embedding the cycle of violence. Reform is desperately needed, but as these authors colourfully put it, ‘debate is stuck in a dangerous donga.’
One of the greatest scandals of the system, described in this book as a disgrace, is the high number and proportion of remand prisoners and the length of their incarceration; in a few cases over ten years. Thousands of accused are granted bail but unable to produce relatively small sums of under R1,000. These are in effect ‘prisoners of poverty’ costing the taxpayer over R12,000 a month in upkeep. A few kill themselves; many will have charges withdrawn. The law provides ways out of this but those who can take action are indifferent or afraid to make mistakes. Clearly there is a need for a no-cash system or at least a bail fund.
A number of imaginative reforms are suggested. Decriminalisation of much behaviour would be a major step. Sentences could be made more flexible, perhaps involving a sentencing council that focuses on public interest factors, with greater use of alternatives to prison such as correctional supervision. Solitary confinement should be abolished or replaced by controlled segregation. The parole system is too arbitrary and in dire need of change. Prisons have seen a number of successes on the emergency health front ‒ HIV/AIDS, TB and Covid-19, for example – but fail consistently over more routine matters.
Edwin Cameron and colleagues hold out hope for change, citing citizen action over HIV/AIDS. (There are other examples such as e-tolls.) But is this realistic in the case of prisons? Violence is hardwired into South African psyche and society and there is a strong appetite for vengeance. The so-called wars on crime and drugs have been very popular even though in both cases prisons exacerbate both problems; and prisons’ supposedly protective walls are illusory.
This book makes clear that imprisonment is complex and requires nuanced policy. But the public increasingly wants simple answers; while officialdom is inert, indifferent and often corrupt.
Book review by Christopher Merrett, reproduced from his web page, From the Thornveld
