would be made to ensure that she is not involved with another man within the group” (DG). For serious matters such as infidelity or attempting to escape, women were judged and punished by men. Some groups allowed women to deal with minor offenses such as personal quarrels. “We have a women’s council composed of elderly women that looks into the matter of rule-breaking. They can fine her some money or corporal punishment may apply depending on the nature of the case” (BM).
All male group members paid a regular contribution to the group treasury. In some groups this levy was collected monthly and in others it was paid weekly. These funds were used for the benefit of the group—to pay bail and legal fees, to hire traditional doctors and pay for moriana, to bribe police, and to pay for transport and funerals. When larger sums were needed—for example, to cover legal expenses when several members faced serious charges—both men and women Marashea were required to pay extra.
Once a man committed to the Marashea he was not free to leave the group. “It is not easy to leave because you are like a soldier, so you cannot leave while the fight is on” (DS). The old, the badly injured, and the sick were typically given a choice between returning home to Lesotho or staying with the group as advisors. For the young and active it was more problematic. “If you are healthy and young we cannot let you go—you are like an ox in a yoke plowing—we cannot let you go especially when you are young” (HL). This condition applied equally to men and women. “No one in Marashea is allowed to leave the group except for those who are old and useless” (‘Mè ID). Along with the determination to retain men of fighting age and younger women, who could attract mineworkers, there was a concern that absconders would reveal secrets to rivals and place the group in jeopardy. “You are not allowed to leave because you have seen our secrets; you have even seen our doctors and how they give moriana to us” (BH). “If you leave without our permission, then we consider you a traitor because you can inform on us to our rivals and the police, who can kill and arrest us” (HL). Healthy members could secure their release in select circumstances. Employed men who lost their jobs were often permitted to leave provided they returned to Lesotho—thus posing no danger. KI was forced to retire from the mines in 1985 and obtained permission to leave the group. He explains that “it is not easy to leave Marashea. But for those who work on the mines, if the job is finished, as in my case, one has to go home. . . . If one leaves the group because he was working and then lost his job, that is a valid reason and they let him go. But if he just decides to step aside while still living in South Africa, it might be like a decision to die.” It appears that some groups allowed members to purchase their release. “When you want to leave you must pay money for going out, and if you do not have money we do not permit you to leave” (MM).
Those who betrayed the group were sentenced to death and great effort was expended in tracking them down. “The most serious offence that a member can commit is treason, and he is killed instantly like a dog when he is discovered” (KI). Treason could encompass informing on colleagues to the police, defecting to a rival group or even leaving the group without permission. After being shot and wounded by the police during a skirmish, ML testifies that he was tired of life as Lerashea: “After that I wanted to leave the group but it was difficult to leave because after committing yourself there is no way to go back, as they will call you a traitor and chase you until they kill you.”
The most common method of discipline was corporal punishment. “In most cases the punishment will be melamu. We are Marashea here, not a church society—he must pay with his flesh” (CN). Beatings were usually administered in front of the group and there was a definite element of humiliation. “You are beaten like a child—but with melamu. You are stripped naked and beaten” (GL). Furthermore, offenders were expected to admit their culpability. “The one who broke the rules is surrounded by others and beaten with melamu. If he is ready to stop breaking the rules, it ends with a severe beating, but if he is stubborn, he might be killed” (WL). For lesser offences, transgressors were sometimes fined. If members were unable to pay the fine, their valuables were impounded and released upon payment.
Marashea arrested on group business were entitled to legal counsel funded from the treasury. However, those who participated in criminal acts that were not sanctioned by the group were not afforded this protection. “When you were arrested we would pay for your bail or fine if you were arrested for a group fight. If you were arrested for robbery we would not pay any fine for you because that was not for the group’s purpose, it was for your own needs” (PL, Lesotho, 23–24 May 1998). Some marena forbade their members to take part in certain criminal activities and not only withheld financial assistance but punished transgressors. BM declares that there should be “no rape, robbery, or assassinations. If a member is found guilty of any of these he is severely beaten. If he is arrested by the police we do not bother ourselves about him. We let him go to jail. . . . I should point out that one morena under me in Klerksdorp is now on trial because of a taxi conflict. He broke my rule by accepting payment to engage in that conflict and we will not pay for his lawyer because he broke that rule.” These efforts to maintain discipline within each group did not apply to the association as a whole; the Marashea have a long history of infighting.
INTERNECINE CONFLICT
Russian gangs fought with other ethnically organized migrant groups; urbanized criminal youth, known as tsotsis; and the police. But above all, the rival factions battled each other. The rivalries that distinguished the different Marashea groups reflected regional animosities rooted in Lesotho’s history of succession disputes. “The factions of Matsieng and Ha-Molapo/Masupha reproduced and reignited the historical antagonism between the royalists of south Lesotho, follower of Moshoeshoe’s [founding king of Lesotho] heir, Letsie I, with his capital at Matsieng, and the restive collateral nobility of north Lesotho led by Moshoeshoe’s second and third sons, Molapo and Masupha, whom he installed at Peka and Thaba Bosiu, and who consistently defied or rebelled against the paramountcy.”27
There are numerous stories as to why the split took place, ranging from fights over women to disputes over money, but it is evident that Basotho migrants carried a keen awareness of their homeland’s historical divisions. “We fought with the people of Molapo because they wanted to rule us. . . . We know that the king of Lesotho is living at Matsieng and we would not allow people from Ha-Molapo to rule us, so our quarrel started there” (DG). Oral evidence is consistent, however, that in the beginning Marashea were united: “Marashea began at Benoni. People from Lesotho were friends—there was brotherhood from Leribe to Matsieng, but we ended up separating because of women. The people from Matsieng killed a man named Lehloailane because of a woman, and the people of Molapo were furious” (BF).28 As Bonner observed, “Once this factional polarisation had taken place it quickly spread to other areas where Basotho migrants and immigrants were congregated and where the same latent rivalries were present. By the early 1950s there was scarcely a Reef township untouched by the fighting, which very often reached extraordinary intensity, involving up to a thousand combatants at any one time.”29
These conflicts were a defining feature of Borashea, and the rivalry between Matsieng and Matsekha persists to this day. The Russian gangs in the Johannesburg area gained much notoriety in both the African and the white press because of the battles they waged across the length and breadth of the Rand from the 1950s to the 1970s. Colorful descriptions of hordes of blanketed warriors engaging in bloody disputes regularly made the headlines. Reports of train station crowds fleeing as Russian gangs joined in combat, officials and spectators scrambling to safety as opposing gangs continued their fights in the courtroom, and trials in which dozens of Russians were charged with public violence were all a result of internal rivalries.30 Russian disputes in mining districts attracted less attention because they took place in more isolated areas, away from official scrutiny, and tended to be less of a spectacle than the Rand battles. Still, fights in the Free State appeared in newspapers as well as police reports and mining correspondence.31
A variation of the conventional rivalry seems to have existed in the early years, when conflict sometimes occurred between Russian mineworkers and township Russians, based on this occupational and spatial
