Johannes Harnischfeger
(Germany)
WITCHCRAFT AND THE STATE
IN SOUTH AFRICA*
The rebellion of black South Africans against the apartheit regime has
been covered in detail by western media. One aspect of the revolt though has not
received much attention. The activities of the rebels were not only directed against
representatives of the political system; especially in rural areas many supporters of the
ANC attacked supposed witches as well. The witch-hunt reached its climax in the beginning
of 1990, immediately after the release of Nelson Mandela (Minnaar 1992: XI, 29); but even
after the ANC assumed power the homicides have not ceased. Especially in northern
Transvaal, one of the country‘s nine provinces, the situation is regarded as so
critical, that in March 1995 the regional government delegated a committee to investigate
into the violence against witches as well as into the numerous ritual killings. The
committee of nine was directed by Professor Ralushai, a social anthropologist and former
vice-principal of the University of Venda. He was assisted by representatives of the
churches, the police and judiciary — and as the only white member — a professor of
law. The report they presented in 1996 lists many singular cases of persecution of
witches, but does not contain exact information about the total number of homicides.
Reliable data could not be obtained anyway, as the relatives of the victims usually
refrain from reporting to local police stations. Black policemen, who believe in withcraft
just like the overwhelming majority of their fellow citizens, often shy away from helping
those accused of witchcraft. In many cases the prosecution refused to investigate the
mostly adolescent suspects, or it simply abandoned the legal proceedings altogether.
(Ralushai 1996: 17, 57, 62)1 The actual number of victims can be at least
estimated by looking at single regions, where the persecution of witches has been examined
in fairly great detail. In Lebowa for example, a former homeland in the eastern part of
Transvaal, police reports state that a total of 312 people were killed between 1985 and
1995 in witchcraft-related violence. The real figures, however, seem to be far higher.
During one single incident alone, in April 1986, 43 suspects were burned. (Niehaus 1999:1)
And in the beginning of 1994, right before the elections that brought the ANC to power,
about 60 supposed witches were killed here. (Minnaar 1998:190) But not only the murdered
can be counted among the victims, also persons who narrowly escaped persecution, like
those 3- or 400 people, who in May 1990 sought refuge in various police stations in Venda,
because their houses had been burned down. (Minnaar 1992:41)
Responsiblity for these eruptions of violence — according to the
judgement of the government committee — should also fall on the “eurocentric legal
machinery” of the old apartheid government. (Ralushai 1996:1) The white legislators
regarded witchcraft as a merely imaginary offense and tried to impose this view on the
black majority of the population. Rather than punishing the witches, all those who tried
to defend themselves against witches were threatened by long prison sentences: the
socalled witch-doctors, who can “smell out” culprits, as well as ordinary citizens,
who accused others of witchcraft, in addition to everyone who used violence against
alleged witches. Since Africans are barred by law from acting against the threat of
witches in a legal, official manner, it should come as no surprise when outraged villagers
take the law into their own hands, resulting in hundreds of suspects burned or stoned to
death. The committee envisages only one solution in this complicated situation:
like in most other countries of Subsahara-Africa, the judiciary should acknowledge
witchcraft as a criminal offense, which can be prosecuted by ordinary courts and punished
with prison sentences of up to four years. (Ralushai 1996:55) Thus, mob justice, with its
tendency towards excessive and arbitrary violence, could be replaced by legal proceedings
which would protect the rights of the accused in a better way.
Colonial Jurisdiction
African critics legitimately reproach the present jurisdiction of
eurocentrism. When in 1895 British Colonial officials in Cape Town promulgated the
original version of the current law, they followed solely their own sense of justice,
without consulting the indigenious population. But the policy of spreading their own
standards of civilization to every part of the empire could not be implemented straight
away, as it quickly clashed with practical requirements of colonial administration. Having
to maintain law and order in the conquered territories with a minimum of personal and
financial resources, it seemed advisable to keep the given systems of rule. Chiefs and
kings who accepted the souveranity of the British Crown, remained in their offices and in
most cases socalled tribal courts and traditional laws stayed with them. In some parts of
the Empire, as in northern Nigeria for example, the British authorities adopted the sharia
and enforced it until the 1950s. Even Christians and adherents of traditional religions
had to comply with islamic customs and were sentenced according to its law. Nevertheless
the European conquerers were not prepared to tolerate what they regarded as
‘barbarous’ punishment, especially torture and mutilation, but also the punishing of
witches. (Oyakhiome 1991:156) Their own witch-hunts almost 200 years back appeared as an
incomprehensible aberration of justice, which was not to be repeated by a modern
administration.
From the perspective of Africans, however, the modern, “enlightened”
legislation presented itself as a perversion of justice. In precolonial Africa witches had
been expelled frequently or sold into slavery, occasionally wrapped into leaves of grass
or bananas and burned alive. Or they had been simply forced to pay compensation for the
caused damage. All these sanctions were now declared offensive and threatened with long
prison sentences. As a result, the victims got the impression they were subjected
defenselessly to the pursuits of witches and sorcerers. From their point of view it was
completely incomprehensible why the Europeans were particularly eager to protect the most
dangerous villains. There is hardly any other regulation that caused more damage to the
reputation of the colonial authorities, questioning their claim to legitimacy. Already in
the early years British district officers, who were confronted with the consequences of
the controversal legislation, warned against violently surpressing a tradition centuries
old. According to their experience, such a policy was politically unwise and morally
reprehensible. (Melland 1935:495; Roberts 1935:490) How could it be justified to imprison
people for 10 or 20 years, who felt they were completely innocent, and even were regarded
as such by their fellow citizens? To avoid getting entangled in unnecessary conflicts many
colonial officials silently tolerated witch trials conducted by “traditional” courts.
The civil servants responsible did not even try to intervene, when prophets or healers
immunized whole villages by purification rites against witchcraft or else traced suspects
during their campaigns and forced them to confess. (Fields 1982:585) In exceptional cases
“tribal” courts were even authorized officially to hear charges of witchcraft.
(Shapera 1975:109-110) There are reasonable arguments to justify this inconsistent
attitude — one could also say: this pragmatism. A legal solution for the problem did not
seem to be urgent, as most outside observers expected that the faith in occult powers
would decline as soon as Christianity, modern science and health care gained a foothold in
African societies. (Macvicar 1939:20; Wilson 19711:48-49) But exactly this assumption
proved to be erroneous. From almost all parts of Black Africa, there are reports about an
increasing fear of witches and sorcerers. Already in the late 50ies, when the colonial
administration declined, the departing Europeans witnessed a revival of traditional forms
of jurisdiction. In the Belgian Congo, for instance, a wave of violence preceeded
political independence. Suspected witches and sorcerers were forced to undergo a poison
oracle by which hundreds of people were killed. (Douglas 1978:141)
Similar to other former British colonies the South African police and
judiciary have not strictly complied with the legal regulations. In principle, it is
already a punishable offense to accuse others of witchcraft, but only in a very few cases
did the courts insist on a legal suit. (Niehaus 1999:303) When it comes to charges of
murder against witchhunters, the courts were more willing to prosecute, but even in those
cases white judges accepted the fear of witchcraft as an extenuating circumstance, so that
the sentences were often rather lenient. In 1991 for example a group of six people, who
had executed four supposed witches, was sentenced to imprisonment of five years each, but
this verdict was suspended immediately and converted into 100 hours of community work.
(Niehaus 1999:304f)
Moreover: to allay the fears of the population, the authorities not only
prosecute people hunting witches, but also those who spread fear with allusions to their
personal magic skills. People threatening to bewitch others, or giving the impression that
they perform malicious forms of magic, have to face imprisonment for up to five years. But
so far the authorities have refused to indict those against whom nothing else could be
lodged but suspicions of neighbors or the verdict of witch-doctors. Many Africans
therefore accuse the authorities of passivity in the face of menacing witches and of even
preventing a suitable punishment: “We blacks have witches but when we go to the police
to complain that the witches are eating us in the night, the police want to see the pots
which they have cooked us in. The witches are happy because the police support them”.
(quoted in Stadler 1996:106)
A New Bill
Even African intellectuals reproach the state for not prosecuting witches.
In the new South Africa with its black government there would be the opportunity to leave
behind the European legacy, and judge Africans by African norms. Such a reform, however,
is not meant to encourage the persecution of witches. According to the bill as recommended
by the government commission, it shall remain a criminal offence to accuse others of
witchcraft. The only difference is that a condition has been inserted in the respective
paragraph of the current law: accusations of witchcraft are illegal, if there are no good
reasons for them. “Any person who — without any reasonable or justifiable cause (...)
indicates any other person as wizard or witch (...) shall be guilty of an offence”
(Ralushai 1996:54-55). This revised version of the law makes sense only if one assumes
that witches really exist. And the commission indeed refers to authorities like the
professor of Theology John S. Mbiti or the social anthropologist Chavunduka in order to
substantiate their claim that witchcraft is by no means only an imaginary offense: “no
one can now argue that witchcraft is a myth which can only exist in the minds of the
ignorant”. (Ralushai 1996:56; see also 61).2 Following this premise it seems
only consistent to suggest the punishment of witches: “Any person who (...) does any act
which creates a reasonable suspicion that he is engaged in the practice of witchcraft
(...) shall be guilty of an offence and liable on conviction (...) to imprisonment for a
period not exceeding four years” (Ralushai 1996:54-55).
There are well-founded reasons for the suggested africanization of
legislation. As long as the people‘s personal sense of justice and their state-imposed
law diverge that far, nobody can expect them to gain confidence in the institutions of a
democratic state. And as long as the authorities do not regard the people's fears as
serious, they encourage the persecution of witches by illegal methods. If on the other
hand the state will take up the prosecution, there is reason to hope that the due course
of justice may prevent the lynching of suspects. People, who saw no other way but turning
against witches on their own, could in the future rely on police and judiciary to deal
with the problem, and deport convicted witches or imprison them. Despite these advantages
some reservations against the bill have to be conveyed.
If state authorities sanction the belief in occult powers, there will be
little prospect that accusations against witches may gradually abate in the long run. It
cannot even be taken for granted that arbitrary attacks on suspects would cease, because
persons who are convinced that they have been bewitched, would not accept that the
culprits may be acquitted by the authorities. It could easily be suspected, that the
witches managed to manipulate the court, or even worse: that they are secretly in league
with the judge. Rumors of witches and sorcerers having developed magical techniques in
order to protect themselves from discernment have already been circulating for a long
time. (Krige 1975:245)
Arbitrary conviction can be anticipated, as there are no reliable means to
establish the guilt of an accused. The essence of witchcraft is exactly that it happens in
obscurity, with the assistance of supernatural forces. Almost every Zulu, Xhosa or Venda
in South Africa knows, that witches have the power to send lightening, killing the
livestock on the pasture, or burning entire houses including the inhabitants. But how can
it be ascertained, that it was exactly the accused person, who caused the fatal
lightening? And how does a plaintiff hope to prove that a malicious neighbor “sent”
him a disease or a grave accident? Given these difficulties, the report of the
investigating committee states plainly, that it is basically impossible to prove
witchcraft: “The most vexing problem surrounding witchcraft is that the activities of a
witch cannot be witnessed by naked eyes. This means that one cannot be in a position to
say that a witch has done this and that”. (Ralushai 1996:57) In view of these
difficulties it cannot be accidental, that the three hundred pages of the report do not
mention anywhere, how an offense can be proved, which shall be punished with up to four
years of imprisonment. If the state should insist, despite these basic uncertainties, to
sentence alleged witches, integral principles of the western judicial system would be
abandoned. (Ashforth 1998:531) Instead of concrete proof — either circumstancial
evidence, traces of the crime or direct observations of witnesses — convictions would be
based on speculations which are principally disputable. There is by no means any consensus
on what sort of crimes witches may perpetrate.3 Professor Chavunduka, who
advised the governmental committee, assumes that magic techniques will work “without
actual physical contact” (1982:16) in causing harm to persons and objects. He considers
it unlikely though, that witches fly at night: “that they keep hyenas for riding on
their night excursions may be a myth” (16). But it seems that he is not completely
certain in this matter. And if experts like Chavunduka cannot reach a conclusion, how are
judges supposed to decide? Shall they believe a plaintiff, who assures them the accused
person has reached the scene of the crime in guise of an owl or a bat?
It seems to be less difficult to make a fair judgement, when judges do not
have to deal with witches in a strict sense, but with sorcerers, that is persons, who do
not carry supernatural powers in themselves, but have simply learned to use magical
objects or techniques. A person feeling pursued by sorcerers may be in a position to
produce concrete evidence of the aggression directed against him: e.g. fetishes having
been burried under his door, or hidden in his house. It is still questionable though, what
those objects could prove. Is a bunch of magic herbs a love conjure, aimed at regaining
the affection of an unfaithful husband? Or is it intented to harm or kill him? (Schapera
1975:109) Ordinary judges would never be able to determine what power those fetishes
possess; in cases of doubt they would have to rely on the statements of other sorcerers.
As witch trials encourage arbitrary judgements, there is a danger of
misusing them for personal vendettas. To denounce people as witches and drag them before a
court may turn into a convenient means of intimidating one’s political rivals or private
foes. As the experiences in other African countries suggests, it is usually the local
elite who, through their good relations with judges, police and other officials, profits
from this. Let us examine briefly, what consequences the persecution of witches through
the state had in other African countries.
Witch Trials in Cameroun
Like in other African regions the increase of witchcraft accusations is a
modern phenomenon, closely related to the decline of the moral economy and the widening
gulf between rich and poor. Businessmen and politicians, who have become wealthy in the
urban centers, are easily suspected to have persued their careers with the help of ritual
murders and other obscure methods. And vice versa: their impoverished relatives or
neighbors, who have stayed in the villages, are also accused of witchcraft. Since they
have not amounted to anything, one assumes that they watch the success of their affluent
relatives with an evil eye, and — driven by envy and resentment — try to destroy them.
To escape this vicious circle of mutual accusations many of the persons affected call for
the state to intervene, where village communities cannot solve their own conflicts any
longer. But as a study of court documents shows: state authorities do not act as neutral
and independent agencies. The persons they convict are almost exclusively impoverished or
marginal people. It is also striking, that in none of the examined cases (where witches
were imprisoned for up to ten years) definite evidence was available. (Geschiere 1997:172)
The convictions were often based on the statement of a single witch doctor, who
established with the help of magical techniques, that the defendant was guilty. And in a
few cases the accused could be persuaded to confess. A 20-year-old student for example
declared to have entered the house of a village teacher by witchcraft. Together with three
other defendants they had operated on the victim, removed his heart and then ate it. Since
then, the teacher was living without his heart. The other three defendants disputed this
story, but to no avail. The judge determined that the leader of the group, as well as the
accomplices, only tried to “mislead the tribunal with his vain and ridiculous
denials”. (Geschiere 1997:174) Therefore the accused were sentenced to prison for up to
five years, and even the court of appeal in the region's capital confirmed this verdict.
When judges have to try offences, committed in an invisible mysterious
fashion, they hardly have a choice but to consult ritual experts, who claim to identify
witches. In this way, traditional healers, diviners and witch-doctors gain a crucial
function in administering justice: as intermediaries between judges and the local
population they control the access to courts. Only plaintiffs who can gain the backing of
an influential witch-finder will have a chance to succeed with their charges of
witchcraft. Such backing, however, is not for free. Witchdoctors sell their services to
the highest bidder. As a consequence, it is almost exclusively the local big men — that
is rich farmers, teachers, party politicians or businessmen, – who make use of witch
trials to terrorize their opponents. (Geschiere 1997:114, 170, 172)
The Youth Rebellion in South Africa
In South Africa the persecution of witches is also connected to local
quarrels about influence and political power. But here it is not a privileged elite, in
alliance with the state and traditional healers, who controls the persecution of witches.
The initiative has rather been taken, since the mid-80ies, by younger people: activists of
the anti-apartheid movement, members of the ANC Youth League, pupils — and students —
councils. From their point of view the elimination of witches was part of the black
emancipation movement. The victims though were mostly elderly women in their sixties, who
succumbed helplessly to their persecutors — usually young men between 16 and 25 years
old.4 The conflict between the generations can only be understood, considering
that the revolt against the apartheid regime had from its very beginning the
characteristics of a youth rebellion. (Bundy 1987:310) It was not only directed against
white representatives of the system, but also against the authority of their own parents,
who were accused of having arranged themselves with the regime out of fear or opportunism.
After decades of silence and collaboration only the younger generation, prepared for
complete disobedience, could claim a leading role in the liberation struggle. Starting in
Soweto and other black metropolitan centers, the revolutionary message was carried into
the rural areas, and especially in the homelands it was eagerly picked up. Each form of
authority had been declining here. While many adults, especially the men, where working as
migrant laborers on white farms or in the mines, the children and adolescents were raised
by single mothers or grandparents. In Lebowa for example 72% of the total population were
less than 20 years old. (Niehaus 1999:242) In addition, the political authorities were
instable and thoroughly discredited. The apartheid regime had urged most of the homelands
to declare themselves independent. Their presidents and kings acted like sovereign rulers,
decorating themselves with the insignia of traditional power. But everyone knew that they
owed their offices to nothing but the calculations of white politicians. As they were
never subjected to democratic control, nothing stopped them from harassing their own
population. Chiefs would for instance operate their own toll gates, in order to extort
money from passers-by.
Against such arbitrary use of power resistance could easily be roused.
Some of the chiefs had to flee their districts in the mid-80ies; others could only appear
in public together with their body-guards. Since the uprising was mainly supported by
students or jobless school-leavers the attacks were also directed against educational
authorities. Unpopular school principals and teachers were expelled, supposed
collaborators, police informants and other “political undesirables” were physically
attacked. In the end whole schools had to be closed and the remaining institutions were
controlled by student councils. As one of their first measures, the new leadership ordered
to abolish the harsh disciplinary punishments; but after some time the activists came to
the conclusion that one had to take vigorous action against counterrevolutionary elements.
Students who refused to attend political meetings or disregarded the orders of the new
authorities had to face corporal punishment again. And yet another offense was punishable:
“speaking ill of the organisation” (Delius 1996:190).
Even outside the schools, in most of the settlements, rebels dominated
public life. Armed youths patrolled the streets, they kidnapped buses and taxis,
threatened store owners and regularly extorted “donations” of money or food from them.
When protests lay ahead, groups of adolescents went from house to house and forced the
adults to join them. Especially evening assemblies girls had to attend as well: “They
would come into the house and tell us we should go. They didn't ask your mother they just
said 'come let's go'. You would just have to go with them. They would threaten you with
their belts and ultimately you would think that if you refused, they would beat you. Our
parents were afraid of them” (quoted by Delius 1996:189). All those opposing the wishes
of the young men were reminded, that it was every woman’s obligation to give birth to
new “soldiers”, in order to replace those warriors killed in the liberation struggle.
The idiom of the adolescents referred to these patriotic efforts as “operation
production”. Because of exactly this reason it was forbidden for the girls to use
contraceptives. (Delius 1996:189; Niehaus 1999:250)
One of the instruments of political mobilization, with which the
adolescents wanted to establish their influence amongst the population, was the struggle
against witchcraft. After political assemblies or at the instigation of
witch-hunt-committees, hundreds of people marched through the villages, chanting freedom
songs, carrying ANC bannners and pulling suspects out of their houses. The victims were
stoned or beaten with sticks, then usually dragged back into their houses and burned with
all their belongings. In order to take care of a witch one had to destroy her body
completely and at best set her house on fire, to burn all her magic paraphernalia.
(Minnaar 1998:184) Similar executions had occured in the past under the supervision of
chiefs and councils of elders. But it seems that in former times those in charge were
normally content with simply chasing away the culprits. Even now, some parents argued that
it would suffice to expel the witches and let them reside in some far-away places. (Delius
1996:196) Under the protection of police stations a couple of villages had been erected,
where the expelled could settle. But the young activists did not want to make any
concessions; under their leadership the execution of witches became the norm: “what do
you do when you have cocroaches in the house? You kill them”. (quoted by Ralushai
1996:15; Minnaar 1998:176).
Witchcraft and African Renaissance
The reasons for the excessive campaign of violence are disputed until
today. Many observers assume, that accusations of witchcraft only served as a pretence to
get rid of personal or political opponents. The report of the governmental commission for
example argues: “many of the accusations of witchcraft had nothing to do with witchcraft
(...) the revolutionary forces chose witchcraft and ritual killing to destabilise these
communities”. (Ralushai 1996:269, 270) In any case it is conspicious, that political
activists often determined high-handedly, who had to be treated as a witch. And even when
the suspects were presented to a witch-doctor first, manipulations were occasionally
observed. Some of the ritual experts later reported, that they had been forced to smell
out witches, and in case they refused, they were allegedly threatened with death.
(Ralushai 1996:49-50) Distrust was also caused by the impression, that the campaign was
directed from the background by ANC cadres. A commander of the ANC Youth League for
example boasted publicly, that he could order or stop the homicides as he wished: “The
witches think they are safe because I told my Comrades to stop burning them”. (quoted by
Niehaus 1999:265) Some analysts even assume, that a part of the political leadership did
not even believe in witches, but merely exploited the superstitions of the population.
(Minnaar 1998:185) The mass killings of elderly, mostly impoverished men and women would
therefore be nothing but a cynically chosen instrument to achieve completely different
political goals.
But this interpretation has to be considered with some doubt. In a
detailed study, which tried to reconstruct more than 300 cases of witchcraft in Green
Valley, a village in Lebowa, the author did not find any evidence that the witchcraft
accusations by ANC supporters were aimed against political opponents. (Niehaus
1993:523-525) Those affected were mostly persons, who, even according to the judgement of
other observers, had shown suspiciously aggressive or antisocial behaviour. The majority
of the population therefore seems to have approved of the actions against witches in
principle, despite many complaints about the arbitrary conduct of the persecutors.
(Niehaus 1999:274; Peltzer 1999:2) Obviously the adolescents did actually try to identify
the guilty persons, and for this purpose they often accepted lists with the names of
suspects from their parents or other adults. (Minnaar 1992:24) There are therefore
numerous arguments for taking the statement of the activists seriously, that they wanted
to liberate their villages from the influence of demonic powers. They seemed to be
“totally convinced that by witchhunting they are advancing the national democratic
struggle” (Weekly Mail, March 23rd, 1990; quoted by Minnaar 1992:40)
For outsiders it may seem strange, that in the moment of revolt, with the
long anticipated freedom within reach, a wave of violence should be directed against the
most helpless members of society. One of the reasons is certainly, that the teenage
killers could count on escaping prosecution since the authority of the state was largely
eroded. Even more important may be another aspect: with the end of apartheid a new age,
connected with inflated millenaristic expectations, seemed to be imminent. The rebels
dreamed of a radical inversion of the established order, of a world in which all wealth
would be poured upon Africans while the whites would be forced to work as subordinates for
the blacks. (Niehaus 1999:108,128-135) In connection with this utopian order stood the
hope of a renaissance of African culture: “With the unbanning of political parties and
release of Nelson Mandela from prison, many people experienced a sense of cultural
freedom, including the punishment of witches in a typically African way. This was regarded
as reaffirmation of African culture after centuries of colonial and Western
suppression”. (Dolamo 1996:347) The future system, for which the rebels fought, was
basically a world without witches and sorcerers. Especially in the homelands, with their
impoverished, overpopulated communities, torn by inner conflicts, nothing seemed to be
more urgent than the attempt to clean themselves from envy and resentment. Only the
extinction of all evil, antisocial elements would create the preconditions for a morally
purified society. (Niehaus 1999:254) The utopian vision of a harmonious world was thus
based on an act of expulsion: all dissonances could be overcome, if men’s diffuse
omnipresent aggression could be directed against a common enemy in which all evil,
detestable forces were personified.
Essential for this process of self-purification was the idea, that the
suppressed masses would constitute a moral community under the leadership of the youths.
In the past, councils of elders and chiefs had carried the responsibility for the wellfare
of the community. But after their parents’ and grandparents’ failure in fighting the
apartheid regime the young men claimed all authority for themselves. For mature, prudent
men it was a humbling experience to be pushed around and commanded by teenagers. Not only
their status was ignored, they were also summoned in front of socalled people's courts in
order to be sentenced by 16- or 17-year old kids. In their ambition to effect a radical
break with the past, the youthful judges did not hesitate to interfere even with intimate
affairs. An adult man, for instance, was ordered to stay at home with his family in the
evenings after 7 pm, otherwise he would be whipped by the comrades. The revolutionaries
also did not accept divorces and ordered estranged couples to stay together. From the
point of view of adolescents, who had grown up in fragmented families of migrants, it
seemed to be part of the social renewal to create a sound family world by decree. (Delius
1996:190)
Measured by African traditions the presumptuous behaviour of the youth was
a tremendous provocation. They had occupied social ranks, which so far only elders were
entitled to fill, and consequently had to find legitimacy for their disputed form of
authority. In the past the respect of chiefs and elders had been based on their ability to
protect the community from internal and external enemies. The young rebels now claimed to
play exactly this role by taking up the persecution of witches. (Stadler 1996:88) May be
their decision was also based on the calculation, that party politics and revolutionary
slogans would not be sufficient for mobilizing the population. Witchhunts on the other
hand seemed to be a common cause for which one could expect broad-based support. (Niehaus
1993:527) The youths were assisted in their campaign by a general perception that
witchcraft was out of control. Many held the apartheid regime responsible for it, because
the white government in Pretoria seemed to protect the witches actively. And their black
governors in the homelands were openly accused of clinging to power by obscure, magical
means. In the summer of 1989, students of the University of Venda boycotted their classes
in order to protest against cases of ritual murders allegedly perpetrated by the
government. The following year between 3- and 10,000 demonstrators marched against the
presidential office in Venda and presented a human skull, which was doscovered — so they
claimed — as a relic of ritual killing. (Minnaar 1992:37, 39) Such attempts to link
political enemies with occult practices cannot simply be dismissed as political
propaganda. In Venda — as well as in Lesotho, Swaziland etc. — there is a long
tradition of killing people to produce exceptionally effective forms of “medicine”
with parts of their corpses. Already in precolonial times kings and chiefs had claimed the
privilege to use those medicines in their fight against powerful rivals. (Evans 1993:27;
Booth 1992:266-271) Among their modern successors in the homelands, who were engaged in a
similar competition for power and wealth, the use of “witch medicine” also appeared to
be wide-spread. As more and more incriminating evidence emerged, the government of Venda
finally had to give in to public pressure: one member of the cabinet and some other
influential persons were put on trial for ritual murder and received death sentences.
(Ralushai 1996:272; Minnaar 1992:37-39)5
Fighting against such gruesome practices was supposed to unify the rural
communities. The political activists therefore took care, that, if possible, everybody
took part in the witchhunts. Young men went from house to house collecting “donations”
of thousands of Rand to be spent on witch doctors, who were supposed to identify local
witches. Or they collected ransom money to put up bail for their comrades arrested for
killing witches. (Minnaar 1998:192; Ralushai 1996:31, 50) Even when it came to militant
action, such as the execution of witches, the adults were urged to participate. Parents of
activists for example had to carry rocks, with which the victims were stoned. (Minnaar
1992:24) And young women, who otherwise rarely took part in political operations, were
forced to collect firewood. (Delius 1996:198) Some reports tell of young people forced to
pour gasoline down their mother’s throats, having to put tires around their necks and
set them afire with their own hands. (Delius 1996:197) Like this the initiators of the
violence clearly wanted to prevent a vicious circle of blood revenge: sons, who executed
their mothers, cannot hold others responsible for homicide.
With the ruthless fight against witches the adolescents wanted to stop the
circle of mutual suspicions forever. Only when nobody had magical instruments to harm
others, would people be able to trust each other again and start creating a common future:
The “youth promised to bring ‘real freedom’ (...) saying that there would be no
witches left in the new South Africa” (quoted by Delius 1996:211). But the attempt to
overcome the nightmare of fear, hate and envy was doomed to fail, because the activists
did not fight the belief in witches, but the witches themselves. Their persecution
of social outsiders did not unify the village communities, but stirred whole families and
clans against each other. Each homicide left a group of traumatized relatives, who
desperately disputed any accusations against the victim. In their helplessness they
appealed to supreme ANC functionaries to stop the killings, or they turned to the police
— usually without results. In the end there were no impartial agencies from which they
could expect justice. Whoever sought revenge, had to deal with it by himself. For this
reason militias were formed, trying to stop the terror of the youths by picking out
individual opponents and executing them. (Niehaus 1999:251)
In order to understand why some families fiercely fought accusations of
witchcraft against their relatives, we have to take into consideration that according to
common belief witchcraft is hereditary in the mother's line. As soon as a person is
denounced as a witch, the immediate relatives become suspects as well. Because you cannot
trust anyone of that family, many argue in favor of extinguishing the whole group of
potential witches, including the children: “All snakes are the same, whether small or
big”. (quoted by Ralushai 1996:16) 6
Interventions of the ANC leadership
The reaction by leading ANC politicians, when commenting on the anarchic
violence of the youths, was ambivalent. In the beginning of 1990, immediately after the
legalization of radical oppositional parties, Winnie Mandela and Chris Hani travelled
through the crisis areas in Transvaal and praised the rebels for making the homelands
ungovernable. (Minnar 19992:50) The militancy of the young activists opened the ANC
functionaries‘ path to power: first to the negotiating table with the white government,
then into ministerial posts and other state offices. Therefore it was absolutely in their
interest, that images of the revolt went around the world. All forms of collective
violence — be it arson attacks, school boycotts or the plundering of shops — were
regarded as part of a common struggle, for which the ANC claimed responsibility. The party
leaders always declared to speak for all of the rebellious crowds; the truth was, that
even after many of them had returned from exile, they had little influence on the angry
young men in the townships. The phrase “ANC’s liberation struggle” was rather
misleading as it covered up for the entirely different interests, articulating themselves
in strikes, boycotts and mass militancy. The party functionaries were mainly interested in
convincing the Western-European and US-American public, that the ANC was trying to create
a modern, liberal democracy — acceptable for all parts of the population, black and
white alike. With their public commitment to human rights, seperation of powers and mutual
tolerance, Nelson Mandela and other speakers of the party presented themselves as
responsible politicians, who followed the traditions of European enlightenment. The
witchhunts did not fit this self-portrayal of the ANC. When journalists first reported the
lynchings, ANC leaders (as well as human right advocates and other white supporters of the
ANC) denied any connection with their youth organizations: the murders were rather
initiated by witch doctors and other traditionalists. (Delius 1996:192) Later, when the
executions began to increase, ANC cadres appealed to the youth not to commit acts of
arbitrary violence: the burning of witches was declared a grave mistake, because it
“diverted the struggle from the real enemy” (Niehaus 1999:257). A functionary of the
ANC Women’s League, who condemned the atrocities in a radio program, even stated that
she did not believe in witches. But in a private interview she admitted to not having
spoken her true opinion. Rather she had wanted to prevent an escalation of violence.
(Niehaus 1999:274)
Western media, when reporting on the rebellion against apartheid, usually
followed the public declarations of ANC leaders. Everthing incongruent to these
declarations — the murder of political dissidents as well as the images of burning
witches — was usually left out. For a long time it was not even possible to talk about
the ethnic-cultural traditions, which influenced the thoughts and actions of the township
rebels. “During the years of struggle (...) it became practically impossible to speak or
write of social difference other than the obvious differences of rich and poor, oppressor
and opressed. Reference to other forms of difference — be they ‘cultural’,
‘social’, or, more especially, ‘ethnic’ — would be condemned as pandering to the
purveyors of apartheid”. (Ashforth 1996:1189; McAllister and Sharp 1993) But the
motivations of the rebels can not be understood by looking exclusively at the public
self-portrayal of their political representatives: “the understanding of the objectives
of organisation and action was almost as diverse as the membership and evolved according
to local experience and circumstance. And a particular danger for analysts in this
instance — as in many others — is to attempt to read off popular consciousness from
the pronouncements and subsequent reflections of the most articulate leaders”. (Delius
1996:187)
Besides the considerations of the Western public there is another reason
why the ANC leadership attempted to distance themselves — at least partially — from
the rioting youth. From 1990 onwards, when it became clear, that the ANC would dominate
the future government, more and more chiefs and civil servants in the homelands tried to
join the ranks of the freedom-fighters. The party functionaries appreciated this increase
in support, because in negotiations with the white government the ANC acted as advocate
for all blacks, trying to present a united front against the apartheid regime. That is why
Nelson Mandela sought the alliance with representatives of the homeland-establishment, who
had been considered traitors in the eyes of the young ANC followers. Now, at joint public
appearances, he did not want to remind of the bitter rivalries in the past. Instead he
recalled a common struggle, which had never existed: “chiefs had a long and proud
history of association with the ANC” (quoted by Delius 1996:207).
After the political transition in 1994 close contacts with the new black
elite have become even more important for chiefs, local politicians and businessmen. Many
of those who had once sided with the apartheid regime are today members of the governing
party. The young freedom-fighters on the other hand lost their influence. Their militancy
is no longer needed, because under the new, black government it is not considered heroic
any more to boycott schools, or demolish state property.
The Rehabilitation of Traditional Healers
After the years of rebellion with their uncontrollable violence the state
wants to direct the persecution of witches into controllable channels. A new bill has not
been presented to parliament yet, but the ANC leadership organized a conference on the
subject of witchcraft and ritual killings in September 1998, at which the delegates
approved of the suggestions of the Ralushai-Commission. (Natal Witness, 11.9.98) If the
courts do take over the prosecution of witches, it can be expected, that — like in
Cameroun — ritual experts will gain influence on the criminal proceedings. The report of
the government commission does not actually mention, which experts the courts shall
consult; but together with the new Witchcraft Control Act an additional law is suggested,
which is supposed to officially aknowlegde the status of traditional healers (among whom
witch doctors can be counted). Such a reform is considered necessary, because former
legislators failed “to draw a clear line between the so-called witch, the sorcerer, and
the witchfinder”. (Ralushai 1996:61)
Critics of the old, colonial legislation have — for a long time —
reproached the Europeans for demonizing all kinds of African magic and punishing them
undiscriminately. Like this, the positive forms of magic, existing side by side with
witchcraft and malicious magic, had gone by unnoticed. Especially the so-called
witchdoctors should be exempted from the usual prejudices, as they see their
responsibility in protecting their fellow people from pernicious influences: “Calling on
the powers of good, they were working against what they believed to be the powers of
evil” (Davidson 1978:147).
The government commission certainly knows, that traditional healers and
especially witch-doctors are often suspected of being witches themselves. Court documents
show for example their involvement in many ritual killings. On their advise clients try to
obtain parts of corpses in order to produce special “medicine”. (Ralushai 1996:48,
256, 269, 271) One could object, that those cases are individual aberrations, which do not
puport anything about the way a whole profession sees ist vocation. “Genuine”
traditional healers — as Simeon Mesaki says (1995:174) — would reject such
unscrupulous methods, because they understand themselves as spiritual guardians of the
community. But the problem is less one of personal integrity. The crucial point is, that
the powers used by healers are in themselves ambivalent. They can heal or kill. Especially
anti-witchcraft experts are expected to possess in principle the same abilities as their
opponents. How else are they supposed to break the power of witches and sorcerers?
(Geschiere 1997:64, 196) The distinction between good and evil in this struggle of occult
powers is mainly a question of perspective. Everybody involved has to protect himself from
the aggression of others, and, if possible, gain influence on his opponents, that is to
weaken and ultimately destroy them. Since the power of magic can be used for the most
different purposes, it becomes almost impossible to draw a clear line between healers and
witches: “‘professional wiches’ are virtually indistinguishable from legitimate inyangas.
Anyone can go to them and purchase deadly herbal weapons”. (Ashforth 1998:518)
The government commission ignores all those reservations, when they
suggest acknowledging traditional healers officially and organizing them in one national
association. It would be the responsibilty of this organization to verify whether the
candidates possess “sufficient skill” in order to practice in the field of magic.
(Ralushai 1996:75) Whoever obtained membership could then call himself — depending on
the respective specialisation — “registered healer” or “registered spirit
medium”. But the professional association would constantly have to pay attention to root
out quackery in their own ranks. Persons who turn out to be “grossly incompetent”
would loose their license and with it the privilege to practice. (Ralushai 1996:76) But
then the crucial question would be, how the professional qualification of a spirit medium
or a witch-doctor can be established. In order to judge the competence of their members,
the association would have to agree on generally accepted standards and a “code of
conduct”. (Ralushai 1996:49) It is however an illusion to believe, that experts of the
occult could reach an agreement determining which rituals or magic formulas are effective
and how they are to be used. Those local associations of healers which already exist seem
to indulge in endless quarrels and “mud-slinging”. (Ralushai 1999:49) Their members
usually practice in obscurity and keep their precious knowledge to themselves, making it
impossible to establish an efficient control. In addition, it is more disputed today than
in precolonial times, which magical techniques are legitimate and which are not. Christian
healers, who claim the right to identify and defeat witches as well, usually confine
themselves to expelling evil influences with prayers, laying on of hands or unction with oil and holy water. From their point of view all
other magical or religious practices are diabolic. Therefore it can be foreseen that many
followers of African churches would not accept it, if South Africa's courts followed the
verdicts of “heathen” witchdoctors. (Niehaus 1999:314)
The possible cooperation between state institutions and ritual experts is
problematic for yet another reason. It could lead to an increasing association of state
representatives with occult powers. Already now many South Africans have the impression
that the power of the political caste is founded in obscure, spiritual forces, regardless
if talking about white politicians or their ANC successors. (Ashforth 1996:184) This view
reflects the experience, that only a minority of former freedom fighters managed to gain
from the political transition, while the large majority still finds itself excluded from
the arcana of power. It seems as if the really important decisions were made in exclusive
circles, to which one only would gain access by secret, esoteric means. The authority of
politicians is therefore not so much based in democratically founded institutions or in
the will of the people. Whoever will rise into supreme political offices and will know how
to defend himself against his rivals, seems to have the neccessary spiritual protection at
his disposal. In other African countries statesmen encourage such speculations by
surrounding themselves with diviners, sorcerers or islamic marabouts. The aura of
spiritual or cultic power serves not at least to intimidate their own population and in
particular the opposition. (Ellis and ter Haar 1998:189; Kohnert 1997:40-45) Similar
developments could occur in South Africa, if it is correct what Peter Geschiere (1997:200)
predicts: that with the africanization of the state, rumors about witchcraft will
penetrate into the heart of political institutions.
Africanization
In order to justify their draft of a Witchcraft Control Act, the
government commission calls on the tradition of the country: “our forefathers regarded
witchcraft as an integral part of our lives”. (Ralushai 1996:13) With those forefathers,
whose cultural self-definition is supposed to be relevant for future legislation, only
Africans can be meant here. The Europeans, who have lived at the Cape for more than 300
years, are, without mentioning it explicitly, excluded from the collective “we”. In a
different place the government report states the own premises even more clearly: “The
African (...) believes implicitly in witches, indeed his very society approves of capital
punishment for witches”. (Ralushai 1996:269) What is remarkable in this formulation is
the use of the singular, as if there were such a thing as the model African and his
society. From an academic point of view such an expression does not make any sense,
because among Africans one can find, like anywhere else in the world, believers as well as
non-believers. And even looking into the past, one encounters African cultures where
witchcraft was apparantly of little relevance. (Jones 1970:325) The reference to “the
African” makes sense only in a political context, where group identities have to be
constructed. The belief in witchcraft then appears to be an essential characteristic of
African identity, as an integral part of a common cultural heritage, which links all
Africans with each other and sets them apart from the world of the Europeans. (Niehaus
1999:299) The moment one's own self-definition is determined that way, it only seems
consistent to view a legislation coined by Europeans, condemning every form of accusation
of witchcraft, as an “insult” to one’s own culture. (Sunday News, 19.1.86)
The discussion around the Witchcraft Control Act shows, that it is an
illusion to believe, that Europeans and Africans could agree on general legal and moral
principles. What has been held up by the Western world as universally valid norms are only
their own culturally determined ideas. As soon as members of other cultures cling to their
traditions, it would seem impossible to administer life in multicultural societies by
common legislation. In South Africa the attempt to revive the “African” heritage is an
especially delicate matter. During the negotiations about a peaceful transition, when the
foundation of a new, non-racist constitution was to be laid, the ANC had still adhered to
principles of Western law. The plea for human rights and liberal constitutional principles
was a pivotal element of the ANC's strategy since the end of the 80ies: not only in order
to find moral and financial support abroad in Western countries, but also to be accepted
by the apartheid government as a partner in negotiations. The leaders of the liberation
movement had come to realize at latest with the Harare Declaration in 1989, that the white
supremacy would not be overthrown by military means. Especially the revolts in the
ghettos, with their thousands of casualties had made it clear to all sides involved, that
only negotiations could bring an end to apartheid. (Giliomee 1995:85; Friedman 1995:548)
But the regime would only make concessions, when important parts of the white population
would press for an end of race segregation. Political groups like the Panafricanist
Congress, who strictly maintained their claim for “Black Power”, would not have been
able to break down the solidarity between Europeans. The ANC, by contrast, formulated a
policy of non-racialism, in order to convince the privileged parts of the
population, that there was an acceptable alternative for them to the apartheid regime. In
all their talks with the white establishment, with journalists and church representatives,
business executives and farmers, the ANC leaders tried to communicate their central
message as clearly as possible: that even under a black government, legislative principles
like the ones established in Western-Europe and North-America would remain valid.
Now, two or three years after the political transition, as the ANC does
not feel obliged to show consideration for the European minority any longer, there is talk
about the Africanization of the country. Thus the concept of a “rainbow-nation”, with
its precarious multi-cultural co-existence, is questioned. In an ANC strategy paper from
July 1997 the party is called for a “continuing battle to assert African hegemony (...).
It is debatable whether the popular imagery of a 'rainbow nation' is useful in this
respect. (...) it used to express the character of South African society as one made up of
black Africans who pay allegiance to Africa, whites who pay allegiance to Europe, Indians
who pay allegiance to India” (ANC 1997: Thesis 7). Whites are thus expected to abandon
their close ties to Europe. It is disputed under ANC supporters though, how far the
Western culture should be pushed back. Representatives of the Africanist wing claim that
the Africanization of the country demands a far-reaching psychological change among all
parts of the population. Especially the Whites, if they want to remain in South Africa,
have to part from their ideological ties to Europe, so that they can assimilate without
reservations to the African culture of the country: “that will lead to the total and
genuine liberation of the Whites and Blacks in this part of the continent. For the Whites
it will unchain and decouple them from the romance, the preoccupation with
Europe as the source of supreme ideas and values and finally bond them permanently to
Africa” (Makgoba 1996:180).7
But until now it remains unclear, how far the Europeans should comply with
African ideas of legislation. The Ralushai Commission for example avoids the question, if
its suggestion for a new anti-witchcraft act shall affect whites as well. Specialists say,
that the state should only prosecute, where the fear of witches has especially destructive
results, that is in Venda and other parts of Transvaal, maybe in Zululand and Transkei.
For the citizens of South Africa two different legislations would exist again, like in the
times of apartheid. Another disadvantage would be that the rights of ethnic minorities
remained unclear: would it be possible to indict Europeans, who live or work in Venda, of
witchcraft? Or should it be declared by law that there are no witches among whites? This
question may sound hypothetical, because Europeans so far were rarely suspected to be
witches. (Niehaus 1996:106-111) Other minorities however, like Indians, often attract
suspicion. There are frequent accusations of Indians selling human fat, with which black
sorcerers then produce ‘medicine’. (Ralushai 1996:24, 26) In Livingstone, a city upon
the Zambezi, Indian businessmen were chased by an angry mob, because of rumors, that in
one of their shops the heart of a child and other body parts had been discovered.
(Guardian, 21.11.95)
In discussions with jurists and social scientists one gets the impression,
that nobody can offer a convincing solution for the problem. Even critics of the
government commission have to admit, that they are at a loss on how to prevent the
persecution of innocent people. The existing regulation is certainly unsatisfactory,
because it subjects the majority of the population to foreign European standards of
jurisdiction. But the objections against the new bill are substantial as well: if the
state convicted supposed witches, it would affirm that the monstrous accusations against
them are well-founded. (Geschiere 1997:21) And further: the suggested law would not only
introduce a new offense, that of witchcraft, but also question long established principles
of the present Western-based legal system, especially where the admission of evidence is
concerned. How can a defendent prove his innocence if a “reasonable suspicion”
(Ralushai 1996:55) is accepted as sufficient ground for a conviction? These risks of a new
legislation would be easier to put up with, if there were the prospect that beliefs in
occult powers might fade away with the expansion of Western education. But there is little
indication for it. The violence against witches started to escalate after the school
system in the black residential areas had been extended massively. In 1970 there were only
122.000 Africans attending secondary schools; 14 years later the number had increased to a
million. (Bundy 1987:311) It is also remarkable that those who took part in witchs hunts
were primarily students of secondary schools, sometimes under the leadership of young
teachers or civil servants. Illiterates or people with only a rudimentary school education
on the other hand were rarely present. (Delius 1996:187)
Not even the hope remains, that the persecution of witches is restricted
to remote rural areas. From Soweto, the center of urban black culture, it is reported that
the inhabitants are more and more concerned about the supposed increase of witchcraft.8
Voices demanding a massive intervention of the state multiply: each quarter — one
suggestion says — should elect a committee of traditional healers, which in cooperation
with the police had the task “to oversee the process of elimination” of witches.
(Ashforth 1998:523) The mayor of Soweto explained, that for her witchcraft presented
indeed “the biggest problem”; but the administration could not do much about it,
because the existing law would restrict their abilities to act. (Ashforth 1998:525) A
traditional healer practicing in Soweto, expressed those difficulties a bit more crudely:
in the days of king Shaka one simply killed witches. “Now they have these human rights,
so you can’t just kill them”. (quoted by Ashforth 1998:523).
* German version of this paper has been published in Anthropopos,
95/ 2000, S. 99-112.
1 The final report also assumes, that local police
authorities have not submitted all of their documents about witchcraft to the
investigation committee. (Ralushai 1996:57)
2 In this central question the committee seems to have been
divided in their judgement. According to Prof. van den Heever he is the only one of the
members of the committee who does not believe in witches.
3 In the past, people distinguished between witches and sorcerers,
and in some areas between day witches and night witches. Such distinctions, however, have
been blurred. Especially in urban areas where members of different cultures meet, there
are no persons or institutions that could determine with authority what a witch is and how
he or she operates. People talk a lot about agents of evil who cause harm by invisible,
mystical means, but such speculations remain vague and often contradictory: “There are
evil forces at work in the world which everyone must fear, but the signs of their presence
are ambiguous and their potency uncertain. (...) There is no system. On the contrary,
there are only fragmentary schemes that people make use of as they muddle through life in
a world where conflict and meaning are mediated by uncertain and conflicting
authorities”. (Ashforth 1996:1205) One might add that the uncertainty surrounding all
notions of witchcraft is crucial to the terror they spread. The threat of witchcraft is so
difficult to tackle as one feels exposed to some intangible forces, not knowing exactly
how they work and whence they originate. This feeling of insecurity may explain the
desperate attempts to reveal the hidden machinations and to expose the culprits forcing
them to confess what nobody could have observed directly.
4 Among the murderes, there were ten- or eleven-year old
children as well. But the average age was — in Lebowa for instance — about 19. (Delius
1996:199; Ralushai 1996:268; Minnaar 1998:175, 185)
5 Ritual murders are, however, not restricted to the
ruling circles. They occur “fairly regularly” in the townships of KwaZulu-Natal.
According to a study based on court files and police records, twelve to fifteen mutilated
corpses from Umlazi, a black township, were received in Durban’s morgues each year. And
in Umbumbulu, south of Durban, there were about six reported cases per month. But the real
number of ritual murders seem to be far higher: “All the officials involved in the
judicial process agree on one thing: that the number of cases reported to them is probably
far less than the number of incidents that actually occur”. (Evans 1991:46) The
situation is similar in parts of northern Transvaal: “ritual murder (...) is so
ingrained in Venda society that it will take quite some time to fade away”. (Ralushai
1996:271)
6 According to poll results from northern Transvaal, the
majority of interviewees indicated that all family members should be burned together with
the witches. (Peltzer 1999:7)
7 compare Filatova 1997; Louw 1997:87,88; Maré 1996:325
8 White social scientists who always wrote as outsiders
when analyzing township riots were not aware to which extent daily life in Soweto or
Umlazi is burdened by mistrust and mutual suspicions: “I could never have imagined the
degree of fear which people endure on a daily basis regarding the risk of witchcraft and
sorcery, the constant threat of evil forces being unleashed by jealous neighbors,
relatives, and acquaintancies to cause them harm. (...) There is no one living in a black
township who has not experienced witchcraft”. (Ashforth 1996:1184, 1221)
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* * *
 äîêëàäå îñâåùàþòñÿ ïðîáëåìû
ñîñóùåñòâîâàíèÿ òðàäèöèîííâûõ êîëäîâñêèõ
âåðîâàíèé è ãîñóäàðñòâåííîãî çàêîíîäàòåëüñòâà â
Þæíîé Àôðèêå. Çäåñü ïîä÷åðêèâàåòñÿ, ÷òî
ñóùåñòâóþùèå â ÞÀÐ çàêîíû î êîëäîâñòâå áûëè
ïðèíÿòû îêîëî ñòà ëåò íàçàä. Îôèöèàëüíî
ñ÷èòàëîñü, ÷òî êîëäîâñòâà íå áûâàåò, ïîýòîìó
âëàñòè âñåãäà çàùèùàëè ëèö, îáâèíåííûõ â
êîëäîâñòâå. Â íàñòîÿùåå âðåìÿ ñïåöèàëüíàÿ
êîìèññèÿ ïî ðàññëåäîâàíèþ óáèéñòâ âåäüì è
êîëäóíîâ ïîäâåðãëà ýòî ñòàðîå çàêîíîäàòåëüñòâî
êðèòèêå. Âûÿñíèëîñü, ÷òî áîëüøèíñòâî æèòåëåé
ñòðàíû ïî-ïðåæíåìó âåðèò â êîëäîâñòâî. Ïîýòîìó
êîìèññèÿ ïðåäëîæèëà ñäåëàòü êîëäîâñòâî
ïîäëåæàùèì íàêàçàíèþ.
Ïðåäûäóùàÿ ñòàòüÿ
Îãëàâëåíèå Ñëåäóþùàÿ ñòàòüÿ
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