The jury is out on South Africa’s Firearms Control Amendment Draft Bill 2021 that proposes significant changes in the regulations of gun ownership. What does it mean to the average South African concerned about increasing crime?



<figure class="wp-block-pullquote is-style-solid-color"><blockquote>“In South Africa, we have a lot of hoops already to own a legal weapon, and now you can’t protect yourself.”</blockquote></figure>



In South Africa, dominating the social and political arena currently is yet another raging topic – that of gun control.



The recently proposed Firearms Control Amendment Bill draft of 2021 has been gazetted by the government for public comment, and over 80,000 written submissions have flooded in since May 21, drawing strong comments and a healthy debate from various quarters.



Critical to the contentious bill is the removal of “self-defence” as a legitimate reason for owning a firearm, and it has become a flashpoint for discussion. The bill is strongly supported by Minister for Police Bheki Cele who notes that in the South African Constitution, the ownership of firearms is not a right, and that “owning a gun in this country remains a privilege made possible through the Firearms Control Act”. “Simply put, this proposed change in law also has the potential to mean the difference between life and death for hundreds of women, who are in the clutches of their abusers, inside their own homes,” said Cele in a press statement. “South Africans should take comfort in the fact that the proposed amendments were not taken lightly. Extensive research, consultations with various stakeholders preceded the proposed amendments,” the statement said.



In the same statement, however, he made note of the high-crime levels present in the country; a motivation which many firearm owners have cited as their reason for applying for licensing under the current legal route of “self-defence”.



Indeed, South Africa has one of the highest murder rates per capita in the world and the average response time for police is over 20 minutes (as per VCOS in 2017).



The bill has its fair share of criticism.



“I reject the bill in its entirety,” says Tshepi Mmekwa of Girls On Fire, a program to promote responsible female firearm ownership. “How can you take away people’s ability to defend themselves? In South Africa, we have a lot of hoops already to own a legal weapon, and now you can’t protect yourself. Our members are angry, and many feel even more unsafe now.” Indeed, the fear of crime coupled with concern over increased regulation has seen a massive increase in licensing applications since the announcement of the proposed amendment. One designated firearms officer with the South African Police Service, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that since the proposal, she has not had a free weekend. “I’m taking these home to do the paperwork and trying to get them finished as soon as possible,” she said, empathizing with the concern many feel about losing the ability to license themselves legally. The fears of violent crime are reflected in the applications for self-defence, far outweighing categories such as applications for hunting or sport shooting. Indeed, it is such safety concerns that led to a broad church gathering of interested parties by Afriforum on June 10 which included some 21 civic organizations and political parties to discuss the amendment – with people and organizations of all races, backgrounds and interests coming together to propose a way forward to comment and contest the proposed bill. Says Afriforum Legal and Risk Manager Marnus Kamfer to FORBES AFRICA: “We already have strong laws to regulate legal firearms; it’s the illegal firearms that are the issue. By regulating legal firearms further, it will have little effect on crime or the use of illegal firearms.” With public comment open until July 4, the heated debate is likely to continue. However, what is increasingly clear is that crime is definitely a concern for all South Africans.

A gun in the hands of a man ready for a shot with blurred backfround.

Fire And Fury: The Debate Around Gun Ownership In South Africa

On May 7, 1945, just before midnight, Private First Class Domenic Mozzetta of the United States Army’s 97th Division shot at a German sniper near Klenovice, Czechoslovakia. He couldn’t know it at the time, but he had just fired the last official bullet in World War II’s European theater of operations.
The Japanese would finally surrender in August of that year, bringing the entire war – which cost more than 80 million lives if the aftershocks of disease and famine are taken into account – to an end.
The silencing of the guns sounded the death knell for Europe’s African empire and fuelled the wave of decolonialization that swept across the continent from the mid-1950s through the 1960s.
When war broke out in Europe in 1939, the French army recruited around 300,000 North African and 197,000 West African men, with more being pulled into the conflict as it spread around the globe. On top of this, nearly 400,000 African soldiers from Britain’s colonies were called up to fight.
British units from the Gambia, Nigeria, Sierra Leone and the Gold Coast (now Ghana) comprised the 81st and 82nd West African Divisions and the famous King’s African Rifles (KAR) was made up of men from Kenya, Uganda, Nyasaland (now Malawi), Somaliland (now Somalia) and Tanganyika (now Tanzania).
<div id="attachment_3594" style="width: 215px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-3594" class="size-medium wp-image-3594" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/GettyImages-138601664-205x300.jpg" alt="" width="205" height="300" />UNITED KINGDOM &#8211; JANUARY 01: BRITISH OFFICIAL PHOTOGRAPH N.K.1528 (Ministry of Information) (See companion picture K.1528) Corporal of a Kenya Battalion of the King&#8217;s African Rifles. A corporal of the 5th Battalion of the King&#8217;s African Rifles wearing drill order &#8211; khaki shorts, blue jersey with yellow chevrons and a felt hat introduced into the Colonial Forces about 1938, similar to those worn by Gurkha regiments. Formerly the Askaris (soldiers) of the KAR wore red tarbushes on drill or ceremonial parades, marching order and fighting order, the hat was a small round khaki affair like a pill-box, with a neck protection cover. (Photo by Planet News Archive/SSPL/Getty Images)</div>
More than 90,000 West Africans played a crucial role in driving the Japanese out of Burma, helping stave off an invasion of British India, and the KAR fought the Italians in Abyssinia (now Ethiopia), the Vichy French in Madagascar and the Japanese in Burma. French West African soldiers, fighting with the Free French forces, invaded Sicily and Italy.
White South Africans and Rhodesians (now Zimbabwe) fought alongside their Allied peers but, with the exception of the Rhodesian African Rifles (RAR) which fought with distinction in Burma, their non-white counterparts tended to be relegated to auxiliary roles and did not face combat.
When the war ended, an immediate programme of ‘whitening’ the war effort began. The fact that Europe had been forced to use African fighting forces was a source of great discomfort for many Europeans who were, to put it mildly, discomfited by the idea of black men killing white.
As John Morrow, a University of Georgia historian, points out in his paper Black Africans in World War II: The Soldiers’ Stories, “African soldiers proved to be highly capable troops in… difficult conditions” and despite high levels of illiteracy were able to fight independently of their white commanders, striking fear into the hearts of their enemies.
Yet after the war, “a politically expedient policy of ‘whitening’” began. French leader Charles de Gaulle replaced black soldiers with French conscripts and partisans – but only after stripping them of their uniforms and weapons and grouping them with African POWs being liberated from German camps.
This was actively supported by British and American leaders. Brave African soldiers who fought alongside the British, especially in Burma, were denied the ultimate military honor of the Victoria Cross.
These soldiers, many of whom had fought with great courage and distinction on foreign battlefields, returned home after 1945 to the reality that once the war was won, their colonial rulers wanted to revert to their old ways, breeding resentment and distrust.
In 2009, a BBC documentary team tracked down some of Africa’s forgotten wartime heroes to hear their stories and, even though the war had been over for 64 years by then, the fact that their contributions had not been adequately acknowledged still rankled. It also found that, having fought alongside white soldiers, any sense that whites were in some way superior was challenged by their battlefield experiences.
“Initially, I saw the white man as someone better than me. But after the war, I considered him an equal,” former infantryman Dauda Kafanchan told the BBC.
Morrow says that “British and French attempts to omit, diminish, or discredit the achievements of African soldiers stemmed from their intent to ignore or limit African demands for equality and independence, in the same fashion that white Americans’ refusal to acknowledge the combat service of African-American soldiers was intended to keep the latter ‘in their place’ and forestall the granting of equal rights to black citizens under the law.”
But this wouldn’t be allowed to stand. As historian Tom Hartley wrote in Sheffield University’s ‘New Histories’ magazine, “the old colonial powers Britain and France had won the war but lost the battle – their statuses as the biggest names on the world stage was now over.”
Having fought to preserve freedom across Europe, it became very difficult for proponents of colonialism to continue to support the oppression of Africans.
“These moral issues, along with the financial cost of propping up an empire with Europe so devastated, led to a movement away from colonialism.”
This movement was supported by the Atlantic Charter, signed by British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and US President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1941, which spelled out their justification for going to war with Germany and its allies, became a rallying point for African nationalists and gave them a powerful political tool.
Clause 3 of the Charter states that “[the British and American governments and people] respect the right of all peoples to choose the form of government under which they will live; and they wish to see sovereign rights and self government restored to those who have been forcibly deprived of them.”
In The Saylor Foundation’s World War II and the Road to Independence, this “was intended to apply only to the European countries which were overrun by German Nazi forces [but] Africans appropriated it and used it for their own purposes,” leading to the “vast politicization of the African masses.”
Rather than arguing for better treatment, less discrimination and greater opportunities, African nationalists were now demanding a complete end to colonial rule.
In 1945, when the fifth Pan-African Congress took place in London, Kwame Nkrumah and Jomo Kenyatta, the future leaders of independent Ghana and Kenya, stood up and demanded an end to British colonialism.
In an essay entitled ‘To what extent was World War Two the catalyst or cause of British Decolonisation’, hosted on his Active History website, teacher and academic Russell Tarr argues that the war did so much damage to the British economy that that the Empire was forced to break up.
At the time, as The Saylor Foundation and others note, European powers had no intention of granting independence to their colonies – they thought it was too soon for self-governance. Africans, in their view, needed more training and education before they could be trusted to rule themselves.
In fact, Herbert Morrison, the post-war Labour Party Deputy Prime Minister, said that giving the colonies independence would be “like giving a child of ten a latch-key, a bank account and a shotgun.” The fact that the British wanted the process to be slow had more to do with the economic benefits of an almost endless supply of cheap raw materials than any inherent concern for the wellbeing of their African subjects, but the gradual change was never going to be acceptable to battle-weary and hardened veterans.
While the history of colonial and post-colonial Africa has generally been well recorded, it is only in recent years that the role that Africans played in World War II, and the subsequent impact that this would have on the continent in the wake of the conflict, is getting the attention that it deserves.
These forgotten soldiers are at last being properly remembered – not only for the significant part they played in defeating the scourge of fascism but also for their role in winning independence for their native lands.

How A White Man’s War Gave Africans Back Their Continent

Alex Reith had just celebrated his 22nd birthday when he landed his glider in Normandy in northern France on D-Day, June 6, 1944. It may have been a dangerous day for his first taste of World War 2, but it was far from his worst. That was to come a few months later in Operation Market Garden – the parachute drop that turned into a slaughter and inspired the Hollywood film  A Bridge Too Far.
It was a glum and grey afternoon when Alex Reith flew his glider – with five troops, a jeep and a field gun on board – across the English Channel, towards Normandy’s Sword Beach swarming with invading troops.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-3592" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/a-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" />
Although the 22-year-old British-born staff sergeant was aware of the scale of the operation, little did he know that D-Day would go down as the largest amphibious military assault in history. Some 195,701 servicemen took part in the operation, as well as 23,400 parachute units and many thousands of other troops carried by 7,000 ships and vessels and 11,590 aircraft and thousands of gliders.
Reith remembers his journey from England to France as if it were yesterday. The view from high above the English Channel is etched into his memory. Excitement saturates his voice as he recalls the 150-kilometer flight.
“As we were making our way across in our matchbox, we could see the thousands of vessels, boats, battleships and God knows what else below us which were headed for Normandy. We didn’t just catch a glimpse of the armada. No, we had a panoramic view of it! It was an absolutely one time fantastic sight!” Reith recalls, explaining that glider planes were called matchboxes because they were made of plywood, often manufactured in furniture factories.
Eventually, Reith’s glider touched down near Ranville, a small town east of Sword beach.
“It must have been sometime between 4PM and 5PM. It was over 70 years ago, you know, so I am not too sure about the exact time,” he says with a chuckle.
“The landing was fairly unremarkable. Normandy is flat. The only difficulties were the trees and the anti-glider poles the Germans had installed. There were plenty of those around. We were fortunate enough to land in an open field, together with some 20 other gliders.”
Before unloading the field gun and jeep, Reith did some surveillance to see if the coast was clear.
“There was quite a bit of gunfire and smoke, and there were bombs going off everywhere,” he recalls.
“After that, we settled down and had our army rations – which were quite dreadful. Then we went to sleep, taking turns on guard duty.”
Shortly after landing, Reith and a number of glider pilots made their way back to the beach, while the rest stayed behind.
“The duty of a glider was to land safely and accurately in enemy territory, often under very difficult circumstances, and then to take part in any required action on the ground, offensive or defensive. You have to understand that we were not pilots belonging to the Royal Air Force (RAF). We were soldiers, just soldiers – like any other soldier,” Reith explains. “The fact that we were able to fly gliders didn’t make a difference. It wasn’t a very glamorous job.”
The journey back to the beach was tough.
“It was quiet, yet there were all sorts of reminders of a massive battle. It had been truly a dreadful two days,” he says.
“There were dead Germans all over the place, as well as abandoned field guns and deserted vehicles. Interestingly enough, we did not see one single injured or dead Allied soldier. They had already been cleared.”
Reith recalls how he and his colleagues heard machinegun fire as they passed a small village. They decided to investigate.
“We found a lone German in a church, firing at targets outside. He was causing quite a bit of damage and chaos,” says Reith.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-3596" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/low-res-MR-Reith-5-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" />
“We gave him a few warnings, and asked him to surrender so we could take him to our base as a prisoner of war. He replied by shooting some more. We decided that something had to be done. A shell wiped him out. In a way, I have always admired this man. Despite everything, he decided to go his own way after the German defeat. He was quite a brave man, I thought. And then he was gone.”
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Market Garden Horror
Once on the beach, Reith and his crew were sent back home, after which their training started for the next offensive: the infamous Operation Market Garden in the Netherlands.
“That was a horrific operation from a glider pilot point of view. Well, it was a horrific operation from so many different points of view,” Reith says.
“We lost some 500 glider pilots during that mission, and thousands of other troops too.”
Operation Market Garden took place between September 17 and September 25, 1944, in and around the eastern Dutch cities of Arnhem, Eindhoven, and Nijmegen. The assault involved tens of thousands of British and American troops behind enemy lines as an ‘airborne carpet’, including 20,000 paratroopers and 13,500 gliders. Thousands of tons of equipment and vehicles were also dropped.
The troops’ objective was to capture eight strategic bridges on and near the Dutch-German border, while Allied tanks would advance on the ground. The aim: the liberation of a large part of the Netherlands, after which the Allied forces would cross the Rhine and bring Germany swiftly to its knees. It didn’t work. Two SS Panzer divisions near Arnhem turned the largest airborne military operation in history into a fiasco that claimed more than 16,000 lives.
“It was an absolute disaster, and a hopeless battle. The Panzer division, along with a battalion of cadets, prevented any Allied advance from Arnhem. British and American soldiers, paratroopers, the infantry, and airborne troops were decimated, as they had the river behind them and the Germans in front of them,” Reith recalls with emotion in his voice.
“I was lucky. I had landed in Nijmegen and not in Arnhem. Nijmegen was difficult, but not as difficult and horrendous as the situation was at the other side of the river.”
After Operation Market Garden, Reith was sent back to England to prepare for the next operation, in April 1945 in Italy’s Po Valley. But the assault was cancelled at the very last minute, after an Allied recce had shown the valley was riddled with Germans.
“Not wanting another Arnhem, the mission was aborted,” Reith says, who was in Sicily at the time.
“That was the end of it. Soon afterwards, the war in Europe came to an end. We celebrated, we drank too much, and then we were taken back to England by a troopship. That was that. It was a bit of an anti-climax, really.”
Reith was discharged from the army a year later, a war veteran at the tender age of 24. He remembers how lost he was during those first few post-war years.
“I [joined] the army when I was 17, after leaving school. This meant that I didn’t have any relevant experience,” he says. “Not many people will say this, but when I came out of the army, I was lost. In the army we were fed, clothed, sheltered; we were given a bit of spending money. There I was, 24 years old and thrown into the labor market with no experience or skills. Most jobs had already been snapped up so it was very difficult. It took me quite a while to find my way around.”
Reith eventually ended up in sales, which he took to.
“By the time I came to South Africa in 1970, I was a successful sales manager,” he says.
So why South Africa and retirement near the beach at Margate in KwaZulu-Natal?
“I had a stepbrother here and my daughters had moved to South Africa with their husbands. When the first grandchild came, my wife insisted we move too.”
When he was invited to the 70th anniversary of the Normandy landings, he didn’t hesitate.
“I was treated like royalty and thanks to the South African Air Force Association (SAAFA), I had a sponsored trip – with a first-class ticket donated by British Airways,” he says.
While there were quite a few veterans at the ceremony, only seven glider pilots were there.
“Most of us were over 90, except for one young chap who was 89,” Reith says with a smile. “I didn’t know any of them. It was a bit disappointing in a way. The two gliders I am in touch with – one who lives in Australia and one in Wales – were not well enough to travel.”
“Apart from them and 2,000 to 3,000 troops, all in their best dress, there was an enormous crowd – mainly French people who wanted to extend their gratitude for the liberation,” he says.
“It was quite something, and at times totally emotional. My eyes were brimmed with tears more than once.”
“The most emotional moment was when I was among the gravestones, thousands and thousands of them, looking for a white cross with the name of a comrade fallen during D-Day,” he says before falling silent for a few seconds.
“It was a reminder of how lucky I had been. I survived D-Day, I survived Market Garden, and I lived long enough to attend the commemoration of D-Day’s 70th anniversary. I am a very lucky guy.”

The Tears Of A Hero Who Flew Through Hell – Twice

For many Kenyans, Thursday April 2 was meant to be a beautiful day. As with the Christian traditions, many of the Garissa University students were preparing for the long weekend. The Easter holidays would give them an opportunity to relax, away from the long hours in class. This was not to be. In the early hours of that fateful day, gunfire rang out. What followed was a near 15-hour siege – a massacre that left 147 people dead.
Hours into the attack, the Islamic insurgents, Al Shabaab, claimed responsibility.
Most of the dead were students, described by government officials and families as ‘the hope of our country’. Five service men too succumbed. Kenyan officials say four of the attackers were killed, while five Kenya Defence Forces (KDF) soldiers lost their lives. Six other suspects have been charged in court with the killings.
Tales from the survivors are chilling.
Cynthia Cherotich hid in her room as the militants swept through the corridors of the university.
“I had to drink body lotion to survive. I was thirsty,” she says.
“It was a terrible experience. We hid in the closet the entire period until we heard voices we thought were from the Kenya Defence Forces,” says another student, Mary Njeri.
“Still, we were not sure. So I asked my roommates, who we were hiding with, whether to go out and die or stay in the closet and still die there. She told me that if it was our day to die, we would rather die outside. When we got out, it was about 2.30PM. We met the KDF and they rescued us,” she says.
The students say there was a power failure the previous night. They thought the initial gun shots was the sound of an electrical fault. Soon after, the screams of the dying echoed throughout the building.
The attack, police investigations reveal, was planned well in advance with the help of some of the university’s non-teaching staff. Mohammed Abdirahim Abdullahi, the mastermind behind the attack, was a University of Nairobi law graduate and the son of a government chief from Mandera.
At the Chiromo Mortuary in Nairobi, where parents identified and collected bodies of their loved ones, grief filled every breath. They blame the Islamist militants and the Kenyan government.
The rescue mission for the students has been described as bungled. For close to 15 hours, the insurgents roamed the corridors of the institution. They herded the students in rooms and shot them.
Survivors had to answer questions about Islamic teachings to stay alive. Most of those killed were Christians.
An elite squad of the Kenyan police force joined late in the day and in less than half an hour, the siege was over. Interestingly, the cabinet secretary in charge of internal security and inspector general of police arrived at the scene hours before the elite squad.
The squad based in Nairobi arrived aboard two fixed-wing aircraft, while part of the contingent travelled 390 kilometers by road to the college. One of the police planes that should have been used for the rescue operation was in the coastal city of Mombasa to pick up a daughter in law of one of the police commandants.
This has led to the government taking some of the blame.
“Institutions of learning should be the safest place for our children. Now where do they turn to? Our government should have done better. All these lives could not have been lost if they acted on the intelligence,” says a family member of a student that was killed.
Five days before the Garissa attack, several alerts of possible Al Shabaab attacks in the country had been issued by embassies. On the eve of the attack, at the Diaspora Investment Conference in Nairobi, President Uhuru Kenyatta dismissed the warnings and accused the embassies of economic sabotage.
“I have not heard the British issue travel advisories against other European capitals,” said Kenyatta. “We want to send a clear message that they will not intimidate us with these threats.”
In the face of the attack, Kenyatta cut a figure of a head of state in charge. Addressing the nation, the president ordered for the training of 10,000 service men and women whose recruitment was challenged in court. He said he would take responsibility. One week later, the executive order was rescinded and a fresh recruitment ordered.
Tellingly, in March, a number of Kenyan universities had put their students on high alert for a possible terror attack. The notices urged students to be vigilant within the institutions and co-operate with security agents regarding any suspicions.
The Garissa attack is the second deadliest terror attack on Kenyan soil. In 1998, the United States Embassy in Nairobi was bombed, killing over 200 people. The bombings were claimed by the then Osama bin Laden-led Al Qaeda terror group. The attack at Westgate Mall in 2013 resulted in the death of 67 people. In between, however, there have been several Al Shabaab-linked attacks on Kenyan soil.
Al Shabaab claims the attacks, and abduction of tourists along the Kenyan coastline, are retaliation for the KDF crossing the border into Somalia. Victims are told that Kenya will not know peace until its troops are withdrawn.
“We need to withdraw the troops from Somalia and have them pitch camp in the vicinity of the Wajir region [near the Somalian border]. Let them set up a combat base there,” says Andrew Frankline, Managing Director of Small Wars Advisory Services.
However, the government insists that the withdrawal of troops is as good as surrender.
Since October 2011, data indicate that Kenya has been attacked by Al Shaabab, or militants affiliated to it, more than 135 times. This translates to at least nine attacks every month. Government agencies report that it has resulted in over 400 deaths and over 1,000 injuries.
The attacks continue to ruin Kenya’s tourism industry.
“When we thought it could not get any worse it did. Tourism is suffering, it has been tough,” says Agatha Juma, Chief Executive Officer of Kenya Tourism Federation.
It might be a while before Kenya, and its economy, recovers.

Tag: Gunfire

FORBES AFRICA SOCIAL MEDIA

Fire And Fury: The Debate Around Gun Ownership In South Africa

How A White Man’s War Gave Africans Back Their Continent

The Tears Of A Hero Who Flew Through Hell – Twice

‘If It Was Our Day To Die, We Would Rather Die Outside’