Latest news with #Pagad
Daily Maverick
15-07-2025
- Politics
- Daily Maverick
Fugutive Pagad member finally arrested after eight-year manhunt
Police arrested Pagad member Faizel Felix on Monday after he had evaded gun charges for eight years. According to sources close to the case, the arrest signals that police are serious about combatting vigilantism. Faizel Felix, 52, who faces a charge of the illegal possession of a firearm, is back in custody after previously absconding from court and being on the run for eight years. On 14 July 2025, Felix was nabbed by the Hawks' Crimes Against the State team in the Western Cape on a warrant of arrest issued in 2016. Elaborating on the case, Hawks spokesperson Zinzi Hani said Felix was arrested on 19 August 2015 by the City of Cape Town's Special Investigating Group for the illegal possession of a firearm. The matter was then referred to the Hawks for further investigation. 'Felix appeared in the Wynberg Magistrate's Court for the illegal possession of a firearm. He was granted bail. He disappeared and never attended court again. His non-attendance led to the court issuing a warrant for his arrest and subsequently his arrest on Monday, 14 July 2025,' she said. The vigilante group Research by the Institute for Security Studies, titled 'Vigilantism v. The State: A case study of the rise and fall of Pagad, 1996-2000' states that Pagad started as a movement against gangsterism and drugs but led to vigilantes using pipe bombs and firearms. The report further states that Pagad evolved rapidly into an organisation with a political agenda, purging dissenters, intimidating the Muslim establishment, as well as liberal and feminist Muslims, and attacking police, prosecutors and judges. One of their most heinous crimes occurred on 4 August 1996, when notorious Hard Livings gang leader Rashied Staggie was publicly lynched and set ablaze with petrol by a Pagad mob outside his house in Salt River. Felix's first run-in with the law was in 2001 when he was accused of being behind a motorbike explosion in front of the Wynberg Magistrate's Court. Days before Felix's bail application, the main witness, Ashraf Saban, was murdered. He could not be prosecuted because there were no state witnesses left to testify against him and all charges relating to the explosion were withdrawn. Back then, prosecutor Eunice Grey stated that the firearm used in his murder was the same one used to shoot Ebrahim Gallie, a key witness in the State's case against Ebrahim Jeneker. Jeneker, Abdullah Maansdorp and Moegamat Isaacs, former members of Pagad, were released on parole in November 2020 after serving 21 years for six murders in 1999. Not too late for justice A former police officer who infiltrated Pagad at the height of its reign of terror spoke to Daily Maverick on condition of anonymity. A criminologist close to the case also spoke to Daily Maverick on the condition of anonymity. The pair were concerned about the ongoing existence of Pagad in areas such as the gang-ravaged Mitchells Plain. 'Whether it is eight or 20 years, this kind of crime can't escape accountability because time has lapsed,' said the former officer on the charges against Felix. Both the criminologist and former officer said Felix must be held to account. 'There is an emergence of vigilante tendencies in the country, because people are frustrated with the police. One must show when you engage in that kind of activity, then you will be held accountable, whether it is after five or 16 years,' the pair said. The former officer said Pagad appeared to be gaining momentum in Mitchells Plain, stating that it was understandable given the challenges with policing in the area. According to the SAPS fourth quarter crime statistics of the 2024-2025 financial year, from January 2025 to March 2025 there were 319 murders perpetrated due to vigilantism. The leading provinces were Eastern Cape (70), Gauteng (69) and Western Cape (64). 'There are townships in the Western Cape and other parts of the country where people are turning to vigilantism because they are frustrated with the police. In that sense, Pagad is not exceptional. 'When you have a police service that refuses to do what it must do, which is to deal with crime, then you have that kind of crime,' the former officer said. He added that when Pagad initially emerged in 1995/96, the counter-argument to vigilantism was that there was a new government and new Constitution and they must have a chance to deal with crime. 'Now fast forward 30 years later, the police have failed. The government has failed dismally in dealing with crime, it has not shown seriousness in dealing with crime. 'You can't deal with these crimes by appointing commission upon commission of inquiry. Now the ordinary person in Manenberg, Lavender Hill, Gauteng and other parts of the country is sitting there and they are saying, 'President Cyril Ramaphosa is appointing another commission; we are dying here because of crime, and our children are infected with drugs; no we are going to do our own thing,'' he told Daily Maverick. Pagad distances itself In a statement, Pagad national coordinator Haroon Orrie distanced the group from Felix and said calling him a member was a 'blatant misrepresentation'. 'We have, since 2015 to the present day, asserted categorically, and very publicly, that a group of former members of Pagad have been expelled from the organisation, due to their contravention of the objects, policies and discipline of Pagad. They have formed a separate splinter group, referring to themselves as the 'G-Force'. Faizel Felix is a member of this G-Force. He is not a member of Pagad,' said Orrie. 'Pagad has embarked on processes to prohibit this splinter group from using and operating under the name of Pagad. This splinter group has been implicated in a range of illegal activities.'
The Citizen
15-07-2025
- The Citizen
Faizel Felix rearrested after 8 years on the run
Faizel Felix remains in custody following his arrest and court appearance on 14 July 2025. A 52-year-old member of People Against Gangsterism and Drugs (Pagad) who had evaded authorities for eight years was arrested in Wynberg on Monday. Faizel Felix appeared briefly in court on Monday, facing charges of illegal firearm possession. Felix was apprehended by the Hawks Crimes Against the State (Cats) team in the Western Cape on a warrant that had been outstanding since 2016, according to the Department of Justice, Crime Prevention and Security. Eight-year manhunt ends The department confirmed that 'Felix, has been on the run for the past 8 years' following his failure to appear in court after being granted bail in 2015. Felix's legal troubles began when he was initially arrested on 19 August 2015, by the Special Investigating Group for the City of Cape Town on charges of illegal possession of a firearm. The case was subsequently transferred to the Hawks for further investigation. ALSO READ: Elderly couple shot dead in parking lot of Rustenburg shopping centre Court appearance and bail jump Following his 2015 arrest, Felix appeared before the Wynberg Magistrate's Court where he was granted bail on the firearm possession charge. However, his compliance with the legal process was short-lived. 'Felix appeared in the Wynberg Magistrate court for the illegal possession of a firearm he was granted bail. He disappeared and never attended court again,' the department stated. His failure to return to court prompted judicial authorities to issue an arrest warrant, which remained active until his capture on Monday. ALSO READ: Shootings plague Cape Town after another five people gunned down Next court appearance Felix remains in custody following his arrest and court appearance on 14 July 2025. The Department of Justice confirmed that the case continues, with Felix scheduled to appear at the Wynberg Regional Court on 17 July 2025. READ NEXT: Tanzanian and Burundian nationals arrested in R54.3m drug bust in South Africa
TimesLIVE
30-06-2025
- TimesLIVE
‘Lives on the Line' by David Africa
ABOUT THE BOOK: Over five intense years, a small but skilled team of spies navigated a treacherous landscape of deceit, risk and setbacks, culminating in the downfall of one of South Africa's most dangerous terrorist organisations. Narrated by David Africa, the intelligence mastermind behind the operation, the book chronicles Pagad's transformation from a local anti-gang movement to a violent terror group, and takes readers deep into the heart of the covert operation, detailing the complexities of intelligence gathering, the battles with internal resistance within the state security forces and the relentless pursuit of a terror network determined to wreak havoc. ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Africa is a struggle activist who grew up in Cape Town. He joined the police crime intelligence division in 1995, resulting in a long and successful post-apartheid security and intelligence career spanning South Africa, the Middle East and Europe. EXTRACT CHAPTER 6 Lancer: Building a Weapon to Pierce Pagad's Armour Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world. — Archimedes In August 2000, Dramat and I were appointed by Willie Els to a team tasked with designing a standardised profile for a Crime Intelligence officer source handler. We had to explore the skill set, personality and aptitude required of a successful handler. Els initiated the project, which was intended to craft a tool we could use to determine the recruitment, training, and deployment of officers within Crime Intelligence. Instead of working from the inherited and contaminated Branch material or merely adopting similar profiles designed by foreign intelligence services, this was an effort to develop a set of characteristics that suited our country's contextual dynamics and operational conditions. He brought together what he considered the best intelligence officers in the country, most of whom came from the covert units. Deena Moodley was the KZN officer participating in the project, a protégé of our comrade, Lalla. Not only was Moodley a capable operative, but he was also not afraid to think outside the box and had a creative approach to wicked intelligence problems. During the mid-1990s, he headed the intelligence task team into the violence that plagued the town of Richmond, KZN. When presented with the thankless mission of ending years of political violence, Moodley jumped at the task, relishing the prospect of bringing some of his ideas to fruition in the province's challenging environment. He soon established a covert intelligence team consisting of young and energetic operatives mentored by Lalla, whose approach was to let them roam free, falter, learn, and succeed on their own terms. They developed an impressive information network, gathering the intelligence required to impact the situation. In a short time, they had identified and neutralised the perpetrators of the violence. They destroyed a sophisticated network of violence that had been operational for more than a decade. The impact of their work was extensive and sustained, which was precisely what we intended to achieve in Cape Town. The profiling team spent a few days in Pretoria with a team of psychologists and talent specialists from one of the big consulting firms. Having participated in developing the personality-skill matrix, Dramat returned to Cape Town. He did not want to leave the unit without its two most senior members while the high operational tempo persisted. The rest of us then decamped to a remote training base in the Limpopo Province, about a three-hour drive from Pretoria. The Maleoskop facility was where we spent a week profiling, interviewing, and recruiting fresh blood for Crime Intelligence. The camp at the time served as the tactical training centre of the police special task force. The recruiting pool consisted of newly graduated police officers from the police college in Pretoria. Selebi informed Williams, who wanted to expand the division, that the 300 recruits were at our disposal, and we were free to choose any or all of them for CI. We liked the idea, especially those of us from the covert units who thought we could use 'cleanskins' who were not yet contaminated by the experience of being police officers or might otherwise not be generally known to be police officers. Maleoskop was not just a remote training base in the Limpopo Province, but a perfect location to let our minds roam free, think, and engage in meaningful conversations. It was here that Moodley and I clicked immediately, spending many hours in dialogue. He was keen to understand the challenges we were experiencing in Cape Town, and I was eager to gain detailed insight into their Richmond success. Like Lalla, Moodley saw it as their responsibility to assist comrades like ourselves in Cape Town. The more successes former DIS officers could achieve, the stronger our collective influence over the division would become, and the more secure we could be in transforming CI into a modern post-Apartheid intelligence structure. I was convinced the methods of Moodley's Richmond intelligence task team could be utilised effectively in the Cape Town context. The first method related to the need for centralised control in the intelligence domain, with no secondary or competing capabilities within Crime Intelligence. The second, which we already started to implement, was the proper integration of investigative capacity co-located with the covert intelligence team. The third was the most sensitive and risky, the deployment of CI officers in deep cover within the G-Force. The last of these was the most sensitive type of operation carried out by Crime Intelligence. It would be a very complex and challenging exercise in the context of the G-Force, an organisation operating with high levels of security, drawing from a specific and limited pool of Muslims. Yet, in the Maleoskop bush, one can dream, plot, and plan. If we could get at least two of these to work, we would be well set to make a sustained breakthrough. Between interviewing and assessing the 300 recruits, Moodley and I developed an idea we thought deserved to be pitched to Lalla, Petros, and Dramat. I was sure that Lalla and Dramat would naturally take to the idea, as both were attracted to bold and decisive operational approaches. Petros was slightly more conservative but could most likely be convinced with a well-presented and articulated proposition. Whilst we were discussing ways to resolve the Pagad dilemma in the safety of rural Limpopo, another bomb exploded outside the United States Consulate in central Cape Town. The explosive device, placed inside a vehicle, also contained fertiliser and would have caused extensive casualties had it functioned properly. Once again, there were no concrete clues about the bombers' identity. Even when we trawled through hour upon hour of footage from the city's extensive close-circuit surveillance camera network, we failed to identify the bombers or even find anything that would link us to a specific person. It was like a spectre had entered the city, activated the bomb and disappeared into thin air. The bombing contributed to a growing sense of helplessness on the part of Cape Town's citizens. Business, political and religious leaders called for stern action against the perpetrators of these attacks. Given the latest target, the pressure from the US administration and other diplomatic missions intensified. The situation also risked South Africa becoming entangled in the American obsession with 'Islamic fundamentalism,' something we were desperate to avoid and which I thought would exacerbate our problem and diminish our ability to defeat Pagad. Our adversary, though, was upping the ante, now brazenly targeting foreign diplomatic and economic interests, as well as synagogues. Pagad wanted us to respond in ways that would lead us into the trap Western countries presented as an embrace. This would have given credence to their claim that the South African government was part of a broader anti-Muslim project driven by Western interests. They would fail. During my time in Limpopo, I maintained constant communication with Petros and Dramat, keeping them updated on the discussions between Moodley and myself. Upon my return to Cape Town, I briefed them on the proposed operational concept. Petros initially had concerns, fearing that the new concept would render our existing operation obsolete. I reassured him that the two concepts were complementary and that the lessons from Moodley's operation would only enhance our existing efforts. I also had a distinct feeling that Petros was concerned that Lalla would overshadow him if he became more centrally involved in our operation instead of just offering hands-off support and advice as he was then doing. Lalla, however, was a quintessentially laid-back character and not the sort to obsess over power, and I could not see such a risk at all. We would need more time to settle my boss' concerns, and the best option was for Lalla and Moodley to come to Cape Town so we could sit down like comrades, speak frankly, and thrash things out. Meanwhile, Moodley was back in KZN, briefing Lalla on our discussions and proposal. Having been engaged in conversations with us previously, Lalla grasped the urgency of what had become a desperate situation, and the need for immediate action. He flew to Cape Town with Moodley for consultations with Petros, Dramat, and myself. Contrary to police protocol, he never met Trollip, his Western Cape CI counterpart. We housed Lalla and Moodley at one of our safe houses in an upmarket Cape Town suburb and spent three days discussing and refining our idea. The first order of business was to allay Petros's concerns. I briefed Lalla on these in advance and in his typically casual but disarming manner, he was prepared to support the new initiative as and when we needed it. Lalla emphasised the importance of locating command and control at the site of the battle, that is, in Cape Town. The logical consequence was that Petros would retain control, but this time with a more expansive mandate. Petros was relieved, and we agreed on the details. Several meetings occurred at this juncture that radically affected our endeavour to implement a slightly adjusted and renewed effort to combat urban terror. Having taken the day off one September morning, I received a call from Williams. He instructed me to immediately go to Trollip's office and accompany him to a meeting with Selebi. I informed Williams that I was not suitably dressed for a meeting with the national police commissioner. I was walking around with sandals, old jeans, and a t-shirt, to which he simply replied, 'Africa, just get there immediately!' Trollip was less relaxed about my state of dress when I got to his office, but I reiterated Williams's emphasis on 'immediate!' and off we went to meet Selebi. Trollip was in a suit, and I was in torn jeans and sandals, and we were on our way to see the national commissioner for what must have been something urgent. Williams had advised that Selebi wanted to have time alone with me to prepare for the official meeting. When I asked how we would make it happen, given that I would be heading there with Trollip, he replied, 'Don't worry. The chief will engineer it.' The meeting took place at Selebi's office on the 7th floor of the parliamentary building that housed ministers and directors-generals of national government departments. When we arrived, Trollip and I were met by senior officers from head office. This included the loud, forceful, yet intelligent André Pruis, Selebi's deputy national commissioner. When Selebi arrived, he informed everyone present that he needed to urgently go to the Foreign Affairs office in the same building and, turning to me, said, 'Chief, I don't know this building well. Please show me where the foreign affairs offices are.' This must have sounded odd to those who knew that before he was appointed police commissioner, Selebi was the director-general of Foreign Affairs. Who was I to ask questions, though? Selebi obviously knew exactly where to go, and took me to his old foreign affairs office, which I then learned was on the 17th floor. We had a 15-minute meeting. He informed me that Williams was the one who had advised that we have a quick meeting before engaging the senior managers who were waiting for us on the 7th floor. Selebi had two questions and asked that I be frank when responding. His first question was to the point. 'Can you guys solve this Pagad problem in the next six months?' My reply was slightly less direct. 'Yes, we can, chief, but we must be allowed to operate unhindered by the rest of the organisation. Our primary challenge is the dilution of our efforts through unnecessary taskings and competition by other offices, that are actively instigated by our provincial management.' 'I understand,' Selebi said. 'What resources do you need from me to ensure success within our six-month time frame?' Having been through endless discussions and planning sessions with Dramat and Petros and, more recently, with Lalla and Moodley, I had the answer to this question at the tip of my tongue. 'Sir, the primary prerequisite for success is the previously raised issue: freedom of operational movement and centralised control of all Pagad operations in our unit. We have tried this before, but your explicit authority as an instruction would be of great help.' Selebi said that he had assumed that his previous guidance to the provincial management was sufficient. He realised that he had to be more forceful in communicating this. When he asked what practical support we required, I told him that we needed the surveillance team detached to us or to at least be at our disposal whenever we needed them. I told him that the surveillance team had raised some resource requirements and that providing those resources would go a long way in boosting their capabilities. Additionally, I outlined some organisational and resource needs for the covert unit, suggesting that Els be placed within the covert unit for a short time to facilitate the transfer of resources and get things going. Selebi was now ready to present his subordinate managers with a fait accompli. Our 15 minutes were up, and we returned to the senior police management who had gathered on the 7th floor. Williams had been right about Selebi's ability to engineer things. Selebi opened the meeting by saying that, due to the police's failure to come to grips with the situation in Cape Town, he felt that his position as national commissioner was at risk. He went on to inform those gathered about an important development the previous day. 'The president called me to a meeting yesterday and asked me a very odd question. He wanted to know whether South Africa had a police commissioner. 'Yes, Mr President. I am the police commissioner'. The president then said that he assumed the country was without a commissioner, given the freedom with which Pagad continued to bomb, murder, and destroy. He said that he was nonetheless relieved to hear that we do actually have a commissioner and that I am the incumbent.' Those unfamiliar with Selebi's rhetorical style tried to figure out what was happening, but it all became crystal clear in his last statement regarding the meeting. 'The president then told me that failure to resolve the Pagad problem within six months would mean that the country will, in fact, be without a national commissioner.' Selebi's job was on the line, and he needed to act decisively to retain it. Without saying so, he indicated to those present that they might face the same fate if we failed within the timeframe that the president had clearly defined. Selebi went on to say that he had recently given much thought to the Pagad problem and how we should tackle it. He had, for obvious reasons, been focused on it since his meeting with the president. He had made some decisions and wanted to inform those present how we'd proceed. The chief had not gathered us to discuss what to do but to inform us of what would be done. He then outlined his plan, which was essentially what I had briefed him on during our short meeting on the 17th floor. Selebi proceeded to give a detailed analysis of the situation in Cape Town, even identifying the key perpetrators involved in the manufacture of explosive devices at the time. Those present were surprised at the national commissioner's acute grasp of the situation in Cape Town and the specificity of his decisions. They must have come away from the meeting convinced that he must indeed have recently been doing much thinking on the subject. The meeting was brief and productive. Selebi supported the covert unit's efforts and instructed that we were not to be burdened with unnecessary responsibilities unrelated to Pagad operations. He stressed that we should be free to operate with the focus required to end Pagad's campaign of terror and advised that his decisions have the force of a national instruction. To clarify his instructions and provide details of how they would be implemented, the commissioner would send a team of senior managers to Cape Town to brief the local role-players. Selebi's plan was officially launched as Operation Lancer. This undertaking was not just a top-down directive, but a collaborative effort that had evolved through a series of conversations. Lancer was conceived from discussions Dramat and I had on the road, pitched to Petros, then to Williams, took shape in the Maleoskop bush, was polished over Lalla's cooking at our safe house, and was about to take off after Selebi's perfectly engineered intervention. Now, with the force of national instruction, Operation Lancer granted the covert unit absolute freedom of movement and operational autonomy. After the meeting, Selebi asked me to remain behind as he wanted me to join him in briefing Tshwete, which started mid-morning and was a fascinating encounter. I remember the details of the event clearly for two reasons. The first was an extensive argument on the relationship between Pagad and Qibla. Tshwete started by saying that he knew 'these Qibla chaps well. I spent time with them on the Island.' His position was that the Qibla leadership should be our main target, as they have complete control over Pagad anyway, and targeting them would collapse Pagad and the G-Force. Tshwete stated this position as gospel truth, with the conviction that only a politician can. I disagreed with him and highlighted that the relationship between Pagad and Qibla was more dynamic than a simple one-way hierarchy of the organisation's early days. Though Qibla was behind the formation of Pagad and its members retained the key decision-making positions within the G-Force, the Qibla members within Pagad had developed an identity of their own and identified much more with Pagad than Qibla. One of the reasons for the emergence of this dynamic was simply the personal power that positions in Pagad had granted Qibla members. While Qibla remained a small organisation that operated in the shadows, Pagad publicly commanded the support of thousands. People like Ebrahim, a loyal and staunch Qibla member, had amassed the power of life or death over his G-Force subordinates and increasingly over the organisation's ever-expanding list of enemies. He enjoyed and was obsessed with his newfound power, displayed it for all to see, and wanted to be recognised by Qibla for this, too. These factors gave rise to tensions between Qibla members in Pagad and those like Achmat Cassiem and Yusuf Patel, who remained outside of Pagad. Our success hinged on an accurate understanding of the Qibla-Pagad dynamic. This appreciation directly shaped our strategy, resource allocation, and deployment of effort. We had come far in moving the police and the collective intelligence community to focus on Pagad and the G-Force as the primary targets. Refocusing on Qibla as Qibla ran the risk of setting us back, perhaps permanently. Tshwete maintained his position, but moved on, asking, 'What plans do you chaps have for dealing with this situation in Cape Town?' Tshwete was the minister of sport before his appointment to the safety and security portfolio. Before Selebi and I could brief him on the commissioner's latest decision, he told us to wait a minute. There was an important cricket match on television, and he wanted to see how it was going. We were then all compelled to sit there watching the game, with the minister analysing this or that player's performance, run rates, and bowling performances and shouting instructions to the players through the television. Our meeting resumed in earnest when the cricketers broke for lunch, and we got back to discussing the decision Selebi had taken at our previous meeting. Tshwete supported the initiative and was forceful in reminding Selebi of the six-month timeframe and the need to be decisive in ensuring his orders were followed. The whole day was a performance par excellence, from Selebi's engineering to Tshwete's cricket pause.
The Citizen
02-06-2025
- The Citizen
A spy's story – David Africa's book ‘Lives On The Line' thrills
The books was first pitched as a textbook or case study to law enforcement. David Africa is not your typical debut author. He's lived every moment in his book Lives On The Line even though it reads like a spy craft thriller. Between the pages, the story of how a handful of operatives dismantled one of South Africa's most dangerous and notorious urban terror organisations. Pagad, or People Against Gangsterism and Drugs, reigned in Cape Town with a vicious terror campaign just more than two decades ago. Who can ever forget the Planet Hollywood bombing 27 years ago or the bomb-proof public dustbins of the time, or the fear that blanketed the Mother City's streets? Covert operations The story tells of how a small, classified unit within crime intelligence built a covert, technical, and operationally agile capability and used its small capacity to shut down Pagad almost overnight. 'To the public, it looked like one day there were bombings, and the next day, nothing,' he said. 'What they didn't see was the six years it took to get to that point. Infiltration, surveillance, gadgets, and response capabilities. And none of it was common knowledge, and not even to most people inside crime intelligence.' ALSO READ: A book that tackles white supremacy, racism 'I actually started writing the book 23 years ago,' Africa said. 'But it was too soon. The subject was still sensitive. There were still security concerns, and some things weren't ready to be told.' When he finally sat down to finish it, his goal was to honour the people who worked in secret and draw lessons for the future of intelligence work. 'These were individuals who stopped a terrorist organisation that had created massive instability. They deserve recognition. And there's a lot in that experience that young intelligence officers today could still learn from.' Neutralising urban terror came for Africa when his career in espionage and counterintelligence was already in cruise mode. 'I grew up in Manenberg in the '70s and '80s,' he said. 'In 1985, when the national uprising broke out, I became politically active. By the time I was 17, I was recruited into the ANC underground. That's where I first got into intelligence work.' His early assignments involved identifying targets for sabotage and rooting out informants. 'We had to know who was real and who was working against us. That's how I learnt the basics. How to target intelligence, counterintelligence and I was trained by some of the most competent people in the struggle underground,' he said. The first officer to investigate Pagad Post-1994, the transition into state intelligence felt like a compromise. 'I sort of found myself, half reluctantly, in police crime intelligence,' he said. 'And that's where my involvement with Pagad began. I was the first intelligence officer in the country to start formally investigating them.' He said it was slow going getting traction and then momentum in the investigation. 'There was sabotage, incompetence, and a complete unwillingness by government to call Pagad what it was at the time. A terrorist group,' he said. 'It took years to build a response structure capable of dealing with them.' Eventually, that structure did more than just monitor threats. It dismantled them. 'By the end of 2000, we had the ability to shut down any planned attack in real time. And we did.' Lives On The Line, he added, was first pitched as a textbook or case study to law enforcement. Only later, after agencies pooh-poohed it, did it shape into a non-fiction novel, so to speak. 'It's non-fiction, but I didn't want it to be dry,' Africa said. 'I wanted something that's factual, but accessible. So, I wrote it creatively as something light, something enjoyable to read, even if the subject matter is dark.' More thrilling than Hollywood There are moments in Lives On The Line where reality blurs with fiction, and not because it's been dramatised, but because the real events are more thrilling than anything out of Hollywood. 'When I was in it, I didn't think of it in the sense of a spy movie,' he said. 'But when I wrote it down, I realised it reads like 007. And we had the apparatus. We had our own Q, M, the works. Only, we weren't drinking martinis. We were stopping bombs.' Africa feels that it is important to read the book. 'Because people saw the headlines, but they never got the full story,' he said. 'Even many professionals in intelligence didn't know what actually happened. This is the first real insider account. And it's written to bring history alive. However, not as propaganda, but as a contribution to understanding the craft.' Africa said that he believes intelligence work, if done right, can play a major role in building a safer society. 'Think of what 15 people achieved,' he said. 'Now imagine a few hundred like them, trained, capable, resourced properly. You'd transform crime intelligence entirely.' NOW READ: Joburg's Forgotten Movie Empire
Daily Maverick
29-04-2025
- Daily Maverick
The takedown of a terror group destabilising SA's new democracy
David Africa describes in a tell-all book how Pagad, the violent vigilante group, was taken down. Few who lived then will forget that mid-winter night of 4 August 1996 when notorious Hard Livings gang leader, Rashaad Staggie, was publicly lynched and set ablaze with petrol by a People Against Gangsterism and Drugs (Pagad) mob outside his house in Salt River. The early democratic years and the giddy build-up to 2000 with its expected Y2K bogeys were as dangerous as they were thrilling. In the aftermath of apartheid, malevolent currents still swirled. Standing in the crowd that night in August was David Africa, his head wrapped in a scarf to conceal his identity, hanging back to watch the heavily armed Pagad crowd rile itself up. Standing alongside Africa was 'Martin', a cop from the old order. Africa, who had been assigned to the 'extremist desk' in Crime Intelligence, had seen this violence coming. On 2 August, two days before the march on Staggie's house, he had written an intelligence alert. Pagad and Qibla, a Shi'a and Sunni Islamist political and paramilitary organisation founded by Ahmed Cassim in 1979, had for some time participated in increasingly violent rhetoric accompanied by bloodshed. Cassim, who died in 2023, had been incarcerated on Robben Island at the age of 17 and spent most of his adult life behind bars. He was an inspiration to many of the militants who rose through the organisation's ranks. The Staggie hit and the assassination of 24 drug dealers by Pagad led to the group's classification as a violent vigilante group with a militia, the G-Force, intent on spreading terror across the city. Two days before the attack on Staggie (his twin brother, Rashied, was murdered in 2019), Africa made a request to the then Western Cape Crime Intelligence management for police reinforcements. The warning was ignored. The story in full Lives on the Line (African Perspectives Publishing) is Africa's insider account, an intelligence operative's coming in from the trenches to excavate an important, overlooked thread in a saga that threatened to destabilise South Africa's young democracy. In his 2023 account of the times, Breaking the Bombers, Mark Shaw, director of the University of Cape Town's Centre for Criminology and South African National Research Council chair in security and justice, noted 'it seems unthinkable that this story has never been told in full'. Africa is the executive director of the African Centre for Security and Intelligence Praxis, a 'think-and-do-tank' specialising in national security and intelligence. He left government employment in 2001. In her foreword, former minister of state security Ayanda Dlodlo notes that Africa tells this story from 'the inner sanctum' of the state security apparatus. The lessons contained in the book, she writes, 'are essential food for thought for anyone interested in the development of capable state institutions and the safety of our communities'. The failure to predict the July 2021 insurrection after Jacob Zuma's incarceration indicates, she says, a 'lack of foresight and political leadership that ignored the warnings […] from the security community'. Dlodlo adds that had the capabilities that had been nurtured in hunting down Pagad been sustained, 'the likelihood of such a security and political disaster would have been greatly reduced'. The war ramps up Between 1996 and 2001, Pagad and its armed wing, the G-Force, ramped up its cloaked campaign of a 'war on drugs and gangs' and began targeting state officials and setting off pipe bombs at high-profile civilian targets and synagogues. A bomb packed with fertiliser went off outside the US Consulate in central Cape Town and contributed, writes Africa, 'to a growing sense of helplessness on the part of Cape Town's citizens'. Businesses were spooked, as were religious leaders. With South Africa's democracy still in the 'it's a miracle' stage, tourists and visitors were flocking to Cape Town. A series of pipe bombs had been set off at the V&A Waterfront, Sea Point, Green Point, Camps Bay, the City Bowl and Bellville. The war had spilled out from the ganglands and into the streets. Restaurants and bars were targeted, including the gay Blah Bar in the 'pink district' in Greenpoint, injuring several patrons who survived and lived with the aftermath. Then president Thabo Mbeki grew concerned at the lack of police progress and it was into this lacuna that a team of 20 seasoned ANC intelligence operatives entered. New blood A key figure in the end result was Jeremy Veary, who was tasked with integrating the ANC's Department of Intelligence into Crime Intelligence in the new South Africa. Veary had served time on Robben Island and returned to head up ANC intelligence in the run-up to the 1994 elections. 'Veary,' writes Africa, 'a self-described dialectical cop, had the persona of a spy, dressed the part, and was an excellent transmitter of intelligence knowledge.' Others in orbit were Anwa Dramat; Peter Jacobs; Yasser Splinters; Arthur Fraser, who was the head of the National Intelligence Agency in the Western Cape at the height of the Pagad campaign; Raymond Lalla; and Mzwandile Petros, also an ex-ANC activist integrated into Crime Intelligence in 1995 – he went on to become commander of the covert unit. Africa, like many of his comrades, brought more than just his talents learnt in the student movement in the 1980s, the ANC underground and his two years of military training in Uganda. He was from Manenberg – the Manenberg of Dullah Omar, the Manenberg of the Cape Flats riddled with gangs, a working-class neighbourhood where Muslim and Christian lived and continue to live side by side and intermarry. So he knew the terrain, its customs, its protocols. Operation Lancer It was the intervention of then national police commissioner Jackie Selebi that finally got the ball rolling. In a 15-minute private meeting with the commissioner, Africa was given the green light. 'Selebi had two questions and asked that I be frank when responding. His first question was to the point. 'Can you guys solve the Pagad problem in the next six months?' ' Africa writes that his reply was slightly less direct: 'Yes, we can, Chief, but we must be allowed to operate unhindered by the rest of the organisation [Crime Intelligence].' Selebi instantly understood and asked what resources the team needed. And so Operation Lancer was born, 'not just a top-down directive, but a collaborative effort that had evolved through a series of conversations'. Africa writes it was 'the first counterterrorism operation in post-apartheid South Africa conceived […] and almost entirely commanded by officers from the former ANC intelligence and military structures'. The operation had been conceived with Tim Williams, Dramat, Petros and Lalla during a bush retreat at Maleoskop in Limpopo. At that point Steve Tshwete, who had spent time on Robben Island with Qibla's Cassim, was police minister. Dynamic and complex Tshwete had been of the opinion that the team should target the Qibla leadership, but Africa knew the relationship between Pagad and the militants was both dynamic and complex. It was this understanding that would crack the campaign of terror. Operation Lancer was distinguished from previous police operations by the implementation of a single, integrated command of all the SAPS antiterror intelligence teams. Investigators were now all available to the new covert unit, extending their range and including a mobile unit that kept everything 'in perpetual motion'. 'Wherever the G-Force conducted their affairs, literally and figuratively, they could be sure that we'd be making aggressive attempts to hear, watch and track them,' writes Africa. First the bombers needed to be taken down, followed by the senior G-Force members who facilitated the organisation's security council decisions. Then individuals could be targeted. As Africa points out, espionage is the second-oldest profession – after prostitution. Let's just say a high-up Pagad leader was having multiple affairs and encounters. As a highly religious man, exposure would have shattered his reputation. The break came after some crafty tagging of this suspected bomber. But we won't give away any spoilers. There are also moments of lightness: Africa shares a hilarious account of how he was once forced to report back to Selebi while laying on the carpet of his office because of his aching back. Although many who served in this unique operation found themselves politically compromised in future years, their contribution at the time should be acknowledged. The success of the operation came with the arrest of the bombers who had planned another attack in Durbanville, which involved a bomb hidden in a flower pot outside the Keg and Swan. Members of the covert unit took considerable risks while trying to take down Pagad, enduring disruptions to their lives. Africa's family was targeted while his wife at the time was pregnant. All made sacrifices for the cause, which, in the end, was successful. His book, says Africa, is 'the story of an intelligence team that whittled away at Pagad until we brought down a seemingly invincible colossus. It is a narrative of six intense and dangerous years spent at the coalface of the struggle to neutralise Pagad, bring its terrorist campaign to a swift end, and bring the perpetrators of murder and mayhem to justice.' Africa writes, as he says, from the perspective of 'a black intelligence officer who grew up in a community ravaged by the very gangs and drugs that Pagad used to legitimise its violence'. DM Key figures Pagad Abdus-Salaam Ebrahim – central to the formation of Pagad. Jailed from December 1999 to 2000 Ali 'Phanton' Parker – part of the early leadership Abdurazak Ebrahim – spiritual leader Achmat Cassiem – founder and leader of Qibla and initially active in the vigilante group Aslam Toefy – public relations face of Pagad Ebrahim Jeneker – the group's best assassin, imprisoned in 2002, released in 2020 and imprisoned again in 2022 Moegsien Barendse – Pagad's Grassy Park cell leader Law enforcement Jackie Selebi – South African Police Service (SAPS) national commissioner Arno Lamoer – senior SAPS officer Leonard Knipe – notorious anti-apartheid detective and head of the serious violent crimes unit in Cape Town Bennie Lategan – detective who worked on Pagad cases David Africa and Anwa Dramat – members of the undercover operations unit that blew open the organisation Mzwandile Petros – then head of the undercover operations unit Frank Gentle – bomb disposal expert who disarmed a device outside the Keg and Swan in Bellville in November 2000 Arthur Fraser – head of the National Intelligence Agency in the Western Cape from 1998 until 2004
