Poaching used as political weapon
Writer: John Grobler | June 18, 2019
A decade of debilitating mismanagement of South Africa’s fisheries sector under former President Jacob Zuma has driven the illicit abalone industry in the Western Cape deep into the arms of Chinese transnational organised crime, seemingly for political purposes. This was established by an 18-month-long and ongoing investigation by JOHN GROBLER.
rom a cottage industry 10 years ago, the abalone-for-drugs trade has grown into a multi-billion dollar component of international organised crime, with South Africa’s most notorious gangs now controlling the poaching and nine Chinese triads the international trade into Hong Kong by using an ancient trade-based financial settlement system known as “Chinese Flying Money” or fei qian (Mandarin) or fei ch’ien (Cantonese).
This financial system is what ultimately identifies the abalone and drugs racket as Chinese organised transnational crime. Both the Chinese and the local syndicate launder their money by preference via properties, bought via front companies or in the name of other relatives and sometimes very cheaply, as payments in a non-linear fashion.
Neither ever get caught and appear deeply embedded in South Africa and China, with political contacts reaching into the highest echelons of power in both South Africa and China. None of this is really news, but the extent to which local and international crime has been able to integrate abalone and drugs into a vertically-integrated business model by exploiting South Africa’s fragile race politics, is.
The Numbers
On the white-sanded beaches and craggy bays from Cape Agulhas to Cape Columbine, the word is that The Numbers, the prison-based gang of the 26s, 27s and 28s, are now in charge. On certain days, whatever comes out of the sea ̶ abalone, lobster, periwinkle ̶ belongs to them, a former poacher explains.
When the “swart gety” ̶ the black tide, in reference to the anaerobic red tide conditions that render all shell-fish poisonous ̶ is in the bay, no-one touches abalone because it will get you killed, he warns.
The various abalone-bearing areas have been divided up among The Numbers’ associates, but ultimately, all answer to the 28s as all risk spending time behind bars, sooner or later.
So just call me Jason, the former poacher grins from beneath the beard and oversized cap. Like everyone else, he doesn’t want to be named when talking about the 28s, South Africa’s most feared prison gang, that now rules the Cape beaches from within the deepest confines of the prison system. The 28s run the jail system – and over the past few years, also the Western Cape’s illicit abalone-for-drugs racket.
Poaching of the slow-growing mollusc, prized in the Far East for its buttery taste, is now dominated by gangs of young black divers who descend in broad daylight and in large numbers on the craggy beaches to strip out whatever abalone they can find without the police lifting as much as a finger.
-------------------------------------
Can the culture of corruption be stopped?---------------------------------------------
Where they come from and who they work for is also no secret, says Jason. “We all know they are fresh from the Eastern Cape,” arriving by taxi from the Western Cape’s impoverished neighbouring province.
In Masakhane, the township outside Gansbaai and epicentre of the Overberg coastal zone at the heart of the poaching industry, one can see them getting off the taxis, making their way to what appears to be kinsmen’s homes.
None of this is news: the Democratic Alliance has been complaining for years that even though up to 500 000 young black job seekers arrive in the Western Cape every year, no additional law enforcement resources are being made available for the attendant rise in violent crime.
Political weapon
What is new is abalone poaching emerging as a political weapon to conduct a poison-the-well policy. Once a sort of cottage industry for the impoverished communities of so-called Coloured fishermen between Cape Columbine and Cape Agulhas, it has become the weapon of choice in a secret war to challenge what is perceived as the economic and political dominance of white people in the only province that the ANC has never been able to win the vote in since 1994.
By effectively allowing the abalone resource to be hijacked by local and Chinese criminal interests – at a huge social cost to the local communities – the abalone industry has been de facto, if not de jure, privatised by a process of political legitimisation into the hands of local and Chinese organised crime, it emerged from an 18-month-long investigation.
Official investigators and prosecutors say Ernie ‘Lastig’ Solomon is believed to be the boss of the 28s and acknowledged king of the Cape abalone poachers. He could not be reached for comment, but according to a report, he was only willing to speak as the self-styled “King of the Khoisan”. This is highly politically significant: as so-called King of the Khoisan, Solomon does not feel answerable to modern laws imposed in the wake of colonisation.
Though official production is valued at only R218 million per annum, the fisheries sector directly employs 27 000 people, while another 100 000 depend on abalone as a resource in one way or another.
This process of criminal indigenisation started in 2007. That year, corruption-tainted Jacob Zuma took over as president and proceeded to dismantle key parts of the regulatory infrastructure and specialised law enforcement units that had protected marine resources until then.
In hindsight, Zuma and the gangs appear to have found common cause. By moving political control of the fisheries sector out of the Environment and Tourism Ministry to an expanded Agriculture Ministry, the Western Cape fisheries sector became part of Zuma’s corrupt patronage network – and worse, as the drug trade flooded the small coastal communities.
It was brutal financial carrot-and-stick politics, and the stick got used first. Artisanal fishing communities who for decades had depended on a living off the sea suddenly found themselves denied a right to basic survival. That they were the poorest sector of the otherwise wealthy Western Cape and most likely to be sympathetic to the ANC seemed not to matter.
The carrot was political access: parliamentary reports dating back to 2012 cited the coastal communities’ main complaint as political fronting, their names employed by the politically well-connected to land those rights for their own pockets only.
In effect, Solomon and his ANC associates are manipulating the awarding of fishing concessions to their own advantage, acting like a pair of pliers that is squeezing the impoverished coastal communities into political obedience. Access to the current list of concessionaires is impossible, by design.
Thrown open to the wolves
Over the past decade, the cottage industry that was local poaching has been thrown open to the wolves, especially after the joint SANParks and SA Navy patrols were closed down, as was every other specialised law enforcement unit that posed a political threat to Zuma.
It gets worse: on the ground, the carrots are sugar-coated with drugs, as abalone is often partly paid for in drugs. Little, if any, detectable flows of cash between the various players, who instead use a form of trade-based financial settlement, thus far has defeated any attempts at cracking the syndicates.
That there is a lot of cash in abalone is evident from the false economy it has created: during official crackdowns such as those in Gansbaai in December last year, local businesses saw turn-over crash and petty crime surge, says a local tyre dealership owner.
The attraction is easy cash: a diver delivering 20 kg of abalone for one dive earns R20 000 for a few hours’ work per month; the owner of a ski-boat heading up a 28-sanctioned crew earns R200 000 or more per month, according to the former poacher.
Where the cash comes from and how has, until now, largely remained a mystery. The secret to their trade is the ancient, trade-based financial settlements system known as fei qian or “Chinese Flying Money”.
“How do the poachers get paid for hundreds of tons of abalone?” asks Marcel Kroese, a former Head of Enforcement at the Directorate of Fisheries (DAFF) and now an international fisheries consultant. In his past experience, they only saw small amounts of cash in all illicit abalone busts, which was odd for a black market, cash-based business.
Following the money as a means of identifying the main players yielded zero results. “We could not ever find the money,” he says, making water-proof court cases a major challenge.
Drugs
Instead, payment was made in non-traceable shipments of precursor drugs used to manufacture Tik, a cheap and highly addictive form of cheap speed. Precursor drugs like ephedrine are often shipped to Walvis Bay and then trucked down to Cape Town to be cooked up in backyard labs and from there, find their way via the 28s and their associates in the poaching syndicates, into the local communities.
People mostly pretend not to see poachers. Farmers along the craggy Overberg coastline area say the poachers have made it clear they would burn down their houses if obstructed in any way by, for example, locking their farm-gates. Many are elderly, isolated and afraid, and know the police offer little, if any, protection from the poaching gangs.
This culture of fear has integrated organised crime into the very fabric of the local community, with everyone dependent on the trade in one way or another: from the lookouts to the garage owner selling them fuel to the granny storing a night’s catch in a backroom freezer.
In effect, this has pushed the artisanal fishing communities into the arms of organised crime, a fact widely and repeatedly testified to by local communities in parliamentary hearings on the fisheries sector in the Western Cape.
Corruption
“It’s just shocking how open the corruption has become,” comments former Head of Fisheries, Shaheen Moolla (now managing director of the highly influential fisheries advisory consultancy, Feike). “But what do you expect when the DG [of Fisheries] admitted in Parliament that the department is basically in melt-down?”
The turmoil in the directorate has, in fact, been a god-send to the fishing industry, both legal and illegal, as everyone is now bribing their way around regulations, says Moolla – and it has been like this since his stint as Head of Fisheries. “Even where we have gone to the Minister with hard evidence, nothing ever gets done. Corruption is (now) at substantive levels,” he says. This corruption, he concurs, has its roots at the political level and is what opened the front door to the likes of Solomon.
Solomon, local sources say, has major political ambitions and wants to become the ANC coordinator for the Overberg area. So did the ANC’s alignment with the 28s produce the desired political results Western Cape in the 8 May elections? The results suggest not: both the DA and the ANC have lost voters, mostly to former Cape Town Mayor Patricia de Lille’s new GOOD party.
The only real winners have been the shadowy Chinese gangs known to have been at the heart of the drugs-for-abalone interface since the early 1990s.
In State vs. Miller, the court in its 2017 ruling set out how the Chinese had operated a smuggling pipeline via the in-bond cold stores in the Cape Town harbour (and likely also the Walvis Bay facility in Namibia) by using a specific set of numbers around 3, 4 and 7 to identify what amounted to production lines of poached abalone.
In 2004, Peter Gastrow of the Institute for Security Studies identified them as the 14K and Table Mountain Gang, traced to a cluster of luxury homes in Plattekloof. As in the Miller case, all operations are run via brief-case companies set up in employees’ names.
But linking these companies with actual acts of organised criminal behaviour in any court of law by way of a financial paper-trail is well-nigh impossible because it is all built on a cash-only system hidden behind a facade of legitimate operations.
Zuma’s political gutting of the various specialised law enforcement and prosecutorial agencies to enable massive looting is a matter of record. While there are still many really dedicated people left in the ranks, there is no political direction, says Moolla. The only specialised agency, the Hawks, which handle abalone cases related to organised crime, are hobbled by a shortage of experienced staff and lack of resources.
But there is a new light at the end of the tunnel: President Cyril Ramaphosa, in announcing his 2019 Cabinet in the last week of May, moved Fisheries back into the environment and tourism portfolio and appointed rising ANC star and technocrat Barbara Creecy as Minister. This implies that, at the very least, quotas for harvesting any marine resource will have to meet rather strict environmental standards before being established and awarded.
But will she be able to stop the culture of corruption that has engulfed the fisheries sector? Its anaemic contribution to the Gross National Product, relative to the country’s 2 850 km-long coastline is a clue to a larger but hitherto ignored reality: a large part of it appears to have disappeared into the international black market, the largest of which is Hong Kong, where the illegal abalone trade alone is conservatively estimated to be worth R1.5 billion per annum.
If the associated drug trade is included, this implies a Chinese syndicate that has the entire Western Cape political elite in its pocket and is turning several billion dollars per year.
What is needed, according to Feike’s Moolla, is the political inclination, the manpower and political will to deal with the problem. But Creecy is up against it: no-one knows the abalone poaching industry better than the Chinese. “They told us often ‘your officials are very cheap, so easy to bribe’,” says Moolla.
And until that changes, nothing will break the Chinese chokehold over the abalone resource.
The former poacher has the best advice, though: “We always made sure they never owe us more than R10 000, because that’s what it cost to hire a Chinese hitman in those days – and then it became cheaper to whack you than pay you.”
It’s advice Ms Creecy will do well to heed in dealing with Chinese interests, both on and under the table.
John Grobler is an independent investigative journalist with a special interest in the relationship between the exploitation of primary resources and organised crime. This article was made possible with financial support from the EU Journalism Funds Money Trail Grant Programme.