This chapter examines the use of biometrics as an enabler of state surveillance in various state-run population management functions in South Africa. Biometrics involves the measurement and analysis of unique physical characteristics for the purposes of identification, the most commonly used being irises, fingerprints, voice or DNA. State agencies that use biometric identifiers assume that this form of identification is much more reliable than barcodes or personal identification numbers (PINs), as they relate to a person's unalterable features. Facial recognition technologies used in the context of CCTV surveillance (discussed in the previous chapter) are a form of biometrics, as they use people's facial features to identify them. However, that physical characteristics are used for identity management at all triggers privacy concerns in that some of the most personal features of an individual – namely body parts – are collected and stored by the state for identification purposes, thereby interfering with a person's bodily autonomy and hence privacy. Biometrics enables state surveillance in very powerful ways, as it provides the state with some of the most intimate details about a person to monitor them and track their movements.

It is thus small wonder that biometric information is so heavily sought after by spy agencies. In 2010, for instance, it emerged that the US government had run an intelligence campaign to collect the biometric information of the most senior UN officials, including Secretary General Ban Ki-moon and certain UN Security Council members. While it was unclear why this information was needed, it could potentially have been used to hack into the UN officials’ communications, to the extent that they were protected using biometric identifiers. Snowden's leaks revealed that the NSA was collecting millions of faces from web images as part of its mass surveillance programmes, with the intention of running them through facial recognition software and increasing the agency's ability to find intelligence targets around the world. While traditional communications were still a major source of intelligence, for the NSA it was important to exploit a broader range of data sources to enable it to undertake a ‘full arsenal’ approach to surveillance, in which the agency could develop more comprehensive profiles of individuals.

In what seems to be a repeat of the first scene we hear police sirens, see flashing red and blue police lights and the frantic searching of flashlights in the blackout. A boy, his face hidden by a black hoodie, comes running through the audience and onto the stage.

PORTIA [yelling from the audience]: You run, I shoot. Do you hear me? You hear? I will pull this trigger.

BULAWAYO and ZIKHALI] form a semi-circle around the figure.

BULAWAYO: Down on the ground! Face down, boy.

PORTIA: On the ground. You hear me?

PORTIA: Empty his pockets … empty them.

PORTIA: Having a busy night, nê? Planning on throwing a big party, eh? You know you could go to prison for a long time for carrying this amount of drugs. [Beat.] You going to tell us where you are getting all this? Even better, you're going to show us where you are getting this. Do you understand?

THE BOY mumbles something into his hoody, his face still pressed into the ground.

PORTIA [to the officers]: I can't hear him. Show me his face.

ZIKHALI: Let's make him eat it, Lieutenant.

BULAWAYO: Ja, Eat it!

PORTIA [intervening]: Wait, wait this one is a first time offender. Let him go. Let his arms go. [She pulls the men off her son.] Give me some time alone with him.

Communications networks are not the only sites of data-driven surveillance; increasingly, public spaces are being placed under surveillance, too. This chapter assesses the extent to which this is the case in South Africa by looking at the growth in the use of CCTV cameras, drones and other forms of locational tracking for surveillance purposes. Before the advent of computers, street-level surveillance was mainly physical; people would be followed and suspicious vehicles or individuals would be stopped in roadblocks. More recently, computerisation has greatly enhanced the ability of the authorities to track people in public spaces. Unlike the kinds of communications surveillance that Snowden exposed, CCTV cameras represent more visible forms of surveillance. Although, theoretically, this makes it more likely that publics will debate the pros and cons of such technologies, public debate has largely been muted, with most of the critical debates taking place in academia and rarely finding their way into popular discourse.

Increasingly, these street-level (or, in the case of drones, above street-level) forms of surveillance are going ‘smart’: that is, they are incorporating features that allow them to collect and transmit data for further analysis by computers, thereby becoming powerful policing tools. This information can allow law enforcement or intelligence agencies to identify individuals and track their movements. In some cases, locational tracking systems set up for commercial or public safety purposes – such as to monitor traffic flow or to bill people for premium road usage – may begin to be used for policing purposes as well: a form of function creep that can raise serious data protection concerns. This chapter explores the extent to which these challenging issues are emerging in South Africa, by examining the concept of locational privacy and its relevance to three street-level or public surveillance projects: CCTV roll-out in major cities, surveillance and automated e-tolling, and emerging regulations around drone usage in public.

CCTV, STREET-LEVEL SURVEILLANCE AND LOCATIONAL PRIVACY IN SOUTH AFRICA

Locational privacy refers to the right of people to move about freely, without having their movements tracked. A person's movements constitute personal information, which he or she has a right to exercise control over. This right is becoming increasingly important, as information about people's movements can reveal a great deal about their personal, social and political activities.

ANDILE sits rolling a joint. SIPHO hovers impatiently over him, scratching himself. The bed is placed on its side and facing the audience, the springs might resemble a barbed wire fence.

SIPHO: Hurry up, bra.

ANDILE: I'm hurrying.

SIPHO [clutching his belly and pacing]: When this deal is over [Beat.] I'm finished with this shit. I hate it, no one takes us seriously … no one cares about us. Even when you want to say something nobody listens. We are a joke, Andile … a fucking joke. I don't like what I've become. My whole life has come to a standstill. From Monday to Sunday all I can think about is smoking. [Pause.] I want my old life back. I want to be the person I was before.

ANDILE: Shut up, wena.

EMMANUEL enters, wielding a sjambok.

EMMANUEL: Ai, what's going on here? Shouldn't you two boys be in school? You, [pointing to ANDILE.] I've told you before you can't hang around here killing yourself with this rat poison. You are giving my sphaza shop a bad name! Must I call the police again, eh?

ANDILE [indifferent]: Do what you like. I'm not afraid of you or the police, kwerekwere! Maybe it's me that should be calling the police, so they can come check if you have a permit to be working here in our territory, eh? If you don't like it then just go back to Mozambique.

SIPHO: Stop it, Andile.

ANDILE: Go back to where you came from.

SIPHO: Stop it! Emmanuel is my friend.

EMMANUEL: Sipho?

EMMANUEL [sternly]: What are you doing hanging with this isigebengu eh, Sipho? What would your mother say if she found out?

SIPHO [gooft]: Please don't tell her. Please bra, Emmanuel. We are just having a little fun.

EMMANUEL: He's bad news this Andile. [SIPHO stares blankly at him.] And you're a bright young man. [He glares at ANDILE.] I've seen this one destroy far too many young lives. [To ANDILE, maybe even handling him physically.] I don't want to see you here again. Do you hear me? [ANDILE runs off.] You can't go back to school or home looking like this. You must wait here until you've cleaned up. This is the last time this happens boy.

SIPHO: Yes Emmanuel.

EMMANUEL: The last time!

ANDILE and SIPHO are standing nervously before BONGANI, who is inspecting the ring, holding it up to the light.

ANDILE: It's gold, nê. The real deal.

BONGANI: Why should I trust you?

ANDILE: You can't fake that shit, bra.

BONGANI taps the ring against his teeth.

BONGANI [to SIPHO]: It's real?

SIPHO: My mother gave it to me.

BONGANI [slipping the ring on his finger]: The wedding ring of Lieutenant Mthembu.

SIPHO [confused]: You know her?

BONGANI: Everyone knows ‘the good lieutenant’. [Sarcastically.] You could say we're old friends. [He looks at the ring.] What am I supposed to do with this? [He turns to ANDILE and kneels.] Are you asking for my hand in marriage? Bongani laughs loudly, the others join in nervously.

ANDILE: We want to put it down as insurance until we can pay it off.

BONGANI [acknowledging SIPHO]: You know I don't like to leave guests in my house standing around. [To ANDILE.] Get him a chair.

ANDILE [anxious and scratching]: Ai, Bongani, we don't have time for chit-chat. We need to get the goof and hit the street.

BONGANI [firmly]: I said pull up a chair!

BONGANI: Sipho, is that right?

BONGANI: You must understand, Sipho, I have to be very careful of letting anyone of Andile's iphara friends work for me.

SIPHO: I'm not like his other friends, Malume.

BONGANI: Please, call me Bongani. [Pause.] What you need to understand, Sipho, is I'm just a small part of a very big business. So when you ipharas at the bottom start smoking the goods instead of selling it like you're supposed to … that harms me. You understand?

SIPHO: I understand.

BONGANI: That harms my business … my family … my safety. Do you follow?

SIPHO: [nodding]: I follow.

BONGANI: My family always comes first, you hear?

SIPHO: Yes.

BONGANI: When someone threatens my children's future it makes me very angry. [Pause.] So you reckon you two can sell four sgodos worth by the end of the weekend?

SIPHO: We can, Malume.

BONGANI [correcting him]: Bongani.

PORTIA wearily takes a seat in front of the CAPTAIN of the station.

CAPTAIN: Do you have any news for me, Lieutenant?

PORTIA: News?

CAPTAIN: The press keep calling for a comment.

PORTIA: We're getting closer, Captain.

CAPTAIN: Closer?

PORTIA: To the dealers, Captain.

CAPTAIN: Closer is not quite the comment I am looking for Lieutenant. [Pause.] The media are calling it the Whoonga Apocalypse. [Pause.] The reputation of this station is at an all-time low.

PORTIA: We're chasing some new leads.

CAPTAIN [strongly]: I need some good news, Lieutenant.

PORTIA: Don't we all, Captain!

CAPTAIN: I need some high-profile arrests for the front pages. Something to put the community at ease.

PORTIA: These things take time, Captain.

CAPTAIN: We don't have time on our side, Lieutenant. [Pause.] There are more addicts each and every day out there on our streets and what does that do for crime … the economy? It's a far reaching catastrophe this. [Pause.] Our children are no longer safe.

PORTIA is once again attending a briefing in the CAPTAIN's office.

CAPTAIN: Lieutenant Mthembu.

PORTIA: Captain.

CAPTAIN: Do you have any headlines for me yet?

PORTIA: Nothing worth hanging on a lamppost, Captain. My guys are working towards a bust …

CAPTAIN: I'm doing a press briefing at the end of this week. I'm going to need them to work harder.

PORTIA: We are moving as fast as we can.

CAPTAIN: May I ask why you and your team keep wasting your time with the small fish … the skhotheni at the bottom, eh? Don't you think it's time you started clamping down on the big boys at the top?

PORTIA: It's only through the runners and dealers at the bottom that we are able to find out who and where the big boys are hiding. These guys are almost impossible to get to.

CAPTAIN: What about intelligence?

PORTIA: Intelligence is working on it but, like I said, it's a slow process.

CAPTAIN: The public are losing confidence in us. You just have to listen to any radio show or read any newspaper to hear what the word on the street is.

PORTIA: I didn't enter this profession to win a popularity contest, Captain.

CAPTAIN: They're saying we can't be trusted … that we are all corrupt … that the dealers have bribed us to keep out of their way. The communities are tired of being robbed.

PORTIA: So am I, Captain.

CAPTAIN: It seems you and your team needs to look at revising your strategies.

PORTIA: The more I deal with this problem, Captain, the more I feel the way we police these issues needs to be revised all together.

CAPTAIN: Do you have any suggestions?

PORTIA: We are understaffed and underqualified. We need training, specialised teams. This isn't something we can solve as a single police station … we need help from the top … help from the community. Government need to step in. [Pause.] From my experience down on the ground, arresting these users just seems to be making it worse.

She exits.

State spying has always been a secretive business. However, digitisation has changed many areas of life, including the work of the intelligence agencies, a lot of which are shifting from relying on human intelligence to signals intelligence. As the latter is even less visible than the former, using it potentially carries fewer political risks, as spying is less likely to be uncovered. In the analogue era, activist movements could always uncover spies in their midst (and often did). Some even learnt to recognise when their phones were being tapped. When it is ‘well’ conducted, modern communications surveillance is much more difficult to detect than the phone-tapping of old. This means that activists face enormous difficulties in mobilising around this less visible but more ubiquitous and insidious form of surveillance.

This chapter assesses the impact of state communications surveillance, or the threat of it, on professions and constituencies that are particularly vulnerable to surveillance in South Africa, as the privacy of communications is central to their work, rather than incidental to it. It focuses on the phenomenon of political surveillance, that is, surveillance of professionals and activists who work in politically sensitive areas, in particular academics, journalists, political activists and lawyers. Through semi-structured interviews, it analyses personal accounts of all these actors to understand their experiences of surveillance generally and communications surveillance specifically, and how they are resisting surveillance or the threat of surveillance. The interviewees – four academics, three lawyers, three journalists and thirteen activists – are not named to protect their confidentiality.

Drawing on the experiential knowledge of these actors, I outline a framework for effective resistance to surveillance. Contrary to the views of those who have (wrongly) characterised it as an elitist issue that is of little relevance to workers, the unemployed and the global South more generally, I explore how activists and information professionals are crafting resistance strategies that could, potentially, address the bigger political and economic context in which surveillance practices are expanding. Such a context, arguably, requires an organised political response that links resistance to surveillance to resistance to the broader political economy. In this respect, South Africa could be considered something of a ‘laboratory’ for resistance strategies.

This chapter focuses on mass surveillance, tactical surveillance and hacking in South Africa. It seeks to answer the following questions: Are the kinds of abuses that were revealed by Edward Snowden possible in South Africa, and what in fact is the relevance of Snowden's revelations (if any) for the country? To what extent is South Africa subjected to these forms of surveillance by other countries, especially the Five Eyes, and to what extent does South Africa itself engage in them, too? Needless to say, answering these questions is extremely difficult, given the high lev-els of secrecy, but it is not impossible to build up some sort of picture, drawing on existing sources.

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE GLOBAL MASS SURVEILLANCE DRAGNET

South Africa's position in the global mass surveillance picture needs to be considered on two levels: as a target of mass surveillance and as a user and producer of mass surveillance equipment. In relation to South Africa as a target, according to documents leaked by Snowden about the NSA's Boundless Informant programme (the programme that initially triggered Snowden's concerns about surveillance of US nationals), southern Africa as a whole is of little interest to the NSA, though South Africa is of slightly more interest than other countries in the region. Predictably, the NSA's attention was focused much more on North and East Africa, especially Egypt, Kenya, Somalia and Libya.

Furthermore, South Africa is not listed as being part of the worldwide signals intelligence operation spearheaded by the NSA in co-operation with its Five Eyes partners, involving the sharing of intelligence, not even as a regional partner. Rather, their main focus areas were countries that could provide intelligence on the activities of Russia and China. Given the sheer scale of the signals intelligence operations, the NSA was concerned about entering into partnerships with other countries to expand its intelligence-gathering capabilities. Several African countries struck up third-party agreements with the NSA to assist it in signals intelligence-gathering, among them Algeria, Ethiopia and Tunisia. South Africa was not included in the names of those disclosed.

However, it would seem from the Snowden revelations that South Africa has not slipped under the NSA's radar completely. The agency intended to build a real-time map of global internet traffic, called the Treasuremap project.

A circle of chairs on the stage as in the first scene. PORTIA is at the cente and SIPHO sits beside her. The rest of THE CAST occupy the chairs.

PORTIA: This is where I'll end my story tonight. After listening to all the stories here I guess we might be considered the lucky ones. So many communities torn apart. So many young lives lost … but we are both still here. [Pause.] When Sipho returned from his gogo we went to visit the doctor that the social worker had suggested to us. He is now on Methadone treatment … We have to pay for it but it's helping. [Pause.] We are taking it day by day now, we try to be more patient, more gentle with each other. We share our stories and we listen, and by listening … we begin to heal.