COLUMN ONE : Still, Tales of Torture in S.Africa : Even as the government embraces reform, civil rights lawyers say, police have brutalized hundreds of black activists in custody. Some have died.

On a cold winter morning last July, in a red-brick house on the outskirts of this sleepy white village, a frightened 15-year-old named Eugene Mbulawa faced a white police detective across a wooden desk.

Constable Deon Oosthuizen had a pad of lined paper to take the black suspect’s statement. Mbulawa was leaning forward with his palms touching the desk and his feet on the floor. His best friend, handcuffed and waiting his turn, watched from the side.

The friend said the interrogation went like this: Oosthuizen would accuse the young activist of mayhem in Khutsong township, Mbulawa would deny it, and one of the police in the room would slap Mbulawa’s face.

Then a black policeman kicked Mbulawa’s feet out from under him, sending the boy crashing to the floor, and the friend was escorted from the room.

Soon Mbulawa was unconscious. Ten hours later, the police called an ambulance, telling the attendants he had had an epileptic seizure.

Epilepsy seemed to have become a particular problem in the interrogation rooms at Welverdiend (pronounced VEL-ver-deen). Only six months earlier, 16-year-old Nixon Phiri had died of a sharp blow to the skull during questioning here. Police blamed that one on an epileptic fit, too.

Mbulawa died the next day, July 13, without regaining consciousness. His family’s attorney demanded charges against the police, but the police investigation instead blamed Mbulawa’s friend, William Makgatje. On Sept. 20, Makgatje was charged with murder.

His lawyer, Tim Boyce, says, “It’s an absolute joke to charge this kid, the prime witness against the police. What amazes me is why they waited 2 1/2 months to charge him if he inflicted the blows while the police watched.”

As the world knows, South Africa has changed dramatically in the year since President Frederik W. de Klerk launched the most sweeping reforms in his country’s history. Apartheid laws are falling, and one-time antagonists are talking to each other across the racial divide.

But while South Africa may be on the road to reform, the short life and times of Eugene Mbulawa and Nixon Phiri make it clear that some whites are not on board.

For all the world headlines and all the promises from the white-led government, the average black South African in rural areas like this, only an hour’s drive from reform planners in the capital Pretoria, has seen precious little change.

Civil rights lawyers contend that hundreds of black activists in areas where protest marches are banned and forcibly broken up by police have been arrested and brutally questioned since De Klerk’s reforms took effect.

“We’ve never been busier,” said Hanif Vally, a Johannesburg attorney who represents the Phiri family and political activists throughout rural areas of the Transvaal and Orange Free State provinces. “The feeling I get is that a number of policemen are unhappy with the reform process and they’re creating an unstable situation. Torture still seems to be standard procedure, especially in Welverdiend.”

Spokesmen at police headquarters in Pretoria deny this.

“Torture is totally unacceptable. It’s not our policy to torture suspects in whatever case,” said Capt. Craig Kotze, spokesman for Law and Order Minister Adriaan Vlok.

And Vlok said in a speech last month that police who break laws “are duly punished. We are not prepared to allow policemen to break the law and then cover it up.”

But the Mbulawa and Phiri cases are not the only ones this year in which black youths are alleged to have been beaten in the Welverdiend house, which serves as headquarters for three black and two white plainclothes detectives in the riot investigation unit.

A dozen youngsters from Khutsong and Ikageng townships, ranging in age from 15 to 20, said in interviews with The Times that they have been tortured here over the past two years and as recently as last month. Their attorneys have written Vlok and even De Klerk.

No Charges So Far

But so far the police investigations have not led to any suspension or charge against officers at Welverdiend.

Warrant Officer J.G. van Graan, head of the Welverdiend unit, attributes the allegations to “some blacks (who) don’t like us.” His superior, Col. H. E. Austen, says he is not aware of even a single torture allegation against Van Graan or his officers.

“As far as I’m concerned, we’ve got no problem with Welverdiend,” said Austen, who oversees 250 criminal investigators in the western Transvaal.

Transvaal Atty. Gen. Donald Brunette takes a dim view generally of torture allegations made against police officers by black suspects.

“It’s written in Marx’s books. It’s written in Lenin’s books,” Brunette said. “You must discredit your security forces. It’s part of the tactic of revolution. And we’ve had this from the ANC for 30 years now.”

And, besides, he added, “No policeman is going to be so stupid as to just kill a guy in a police station. There are a whole lot better places to kill him.”

For months now, the riot police have had their hands full in Khutsong, a sprawling, trash-strewn township of 60,000 that sits on a treeless plain between Welverdiend, about 10 miles west, and the conservative mining town of Carletonville, 5 miles east.

The police have cracked down on political protests, especially in the schools, and some Khutsong youngsters have responded with fury, burning cars and homes, attacking police vehicles and black policemen.

The youngsters consider themselves loyal soldiers of the African National Congress’ military wing, but they feel no obligation to abide by the peace agreements between De Klerk and ANC leader Nelson Mandela in the face of continuing state oppression in their township.

Eugene Mbulawa grew up in a comfortable four-room home in Khutsong, better off financially than many because his stepfather had a good job as a bakery driver. Mbulawa and his 7-year-old brother, Mpumelelo, shared the back bedroom. A small chicken coop in the back yard guaranteed their early rising.

For several years, Mbulawa had been politically active, and he regularly clashed with police. Van Graan, the Welverdiend unit commander, remembers Mbulawa as “a cheeky kid . . . who gave us so much trouble.”

A classmate at Tswasongu Secondary School, Arnold Gcuku, says Mbulawa and his friends “were famous.” They considered themselves ANC freedom fighters, and they named themselves the “Kadafi gang,” after Libyan leader Moammar Kadafi, one of Mandela’s friends.

Called Him ‘Castro’

Mbulawa was mesmerized, as are so many black South African youngsters, by revolutionary politics. He spoke so often of Fidel Castro’s achievements in Cuba that his comrades gave him the nickname “Castro.”

At first, the violence in Khutsong pitted the radical youngsters against the police. But the police got some help in June, when an airplane dropped hundreds of leaflets on the township. The leaflets promised a 5,000-rand (about $2,000) reward for help in arresting troublemakers.

Black vigilante groups soon began going door-to-door. Mbulawa’s mother sent her son to stay with relatives, and twice she turned away vigilantes armed with knives and guns who came looking for Eugene.

A month later, though, the vigilantes and the radicals agreed to peace talks. On July 10, as the two groups were leaving in vans for talks in Johannesburg, the police stopped them and arrested Mbulawa, Makgatje and 21 other township youths.

The detainees were taken to the police lockup at Carletonville. They said they were forced into the prison showers, with their clothes on, and drenched in cold water. They received no blankets or towels for the night.

Early the next morning, Constable Oosthuizen and two black police detectives took the 23 suspects to Welverdiend.

“We were scared,” one of them, Shadrack Golotine, said later, “because we knew that some of our comrades had been killed in Welverdiend.”

The Welverdiend house, a branch office of the criminal investigations unit, was known among young activists as the “torture camp.” It is a square four-room house, with a paved sidewalk leading up to a partially enclosed front porch. Inside is a kitchen, a bathroom and three offices. Photographs of wanted black suspects are affixed to a bulletin board in the foyer.

The detainees were put in corrugated-iron shacks next to the house, and four of them were led inside. Golotine ended up in a room decorated with Nelson Mandela T-shirts and ANC flags, items confiscated in May when police raided a Khutsong house, killing three black activists.

“They said if we didn’t tell them the truth, we’d end up like the owners of those flags and T-shirts,” said Golotine, 17.

Golotine said his hands were tied behind his back, a cloth sack was placed over his head and he was made to lie on the floor. A policeman placed wires on his wrists, and later on his genitals, delivering electric shocks, apparently with a hand-cranked generator, he said.

“They accused me of burning people and vehicles,” Golotine said. “When I denied it, they shocked me. It was painful. My body was shaking. I ended up admitting to things I had not done.”

Only the four youths were interrogated that day, and everyone was later returned to the cells in Carletonville.

The next morning, Mbulawa, Makgatje and four others were taken back to Welverdiend. William Fantein, a 16-year-old in the group, remembers that Oosthuizen described Mbulawa as “my customer.”

At about 9 a.m., Mbulawa and Makgatje were taken into the house. Makgatje said he was questioned in a separate room about several cars and houses that had been burned in the township. During the questioning, he said, he was assaulted with a baton and kicked and punched.

Could Hear Screams

Later, Makgatje was taken into the office where officers were interrogating Mbulawa. After witnessing part of the attack on Mbulawa, Makgatje was taken for more questioning in another room, where he could hear Mbulawa’s screams.

When Makgatje was brought back he found Mbulawa on the floor with his arms across his chest. His friend’s eyes and mouth were open, but he was unconscious and making a snoring sound.

The officers dragged Mbulawa back to the outdoor cells at about 10 a.m. Other detainees tried without success to revive him.

At 7 p.m., the police ordered the detainees to carry Mbulawa to a truck for the trip back to Carletonville. Later that night, an ambulance took Mbulawa to the hospital.

His mother, Josephine Neku, saw him the next day.

“I didn’t recognize him at first,” Neku said, brushing tears from her eyes. “He was all swollen up. His chin was swollen, his teeth were loose. I saw he was not going to be alive again.”

The 22 other detainees appeared in a Carletonville court the next day.

Tim Boyce, their attorney, remembers that “a number had visible (facial) injuries from questioning and the injuries were all very similar.” At Boyce’s request, the judge noted the injuries and the allegation that Welverdiend policemen were responsible.

Makgatje and five others were charged with malicious damage to property and released. Eugene Mbulawa, although still in the hospital, also was named on that charge sheet. He died that evening.

Makgatje gave statements to his attorneys, and they wrote the government demanding an independent investigation. But 10 weeks later, on Sept. 19, Makgatje was arrested again and questioned for several hours by a police detective about Mbulawa’s death.

Charged With Murder

Makgatje, a small, thin 16-year-old, said later that he told the investigator how the police had beaten his friend. But the investigator didn’t taken any notes. Instead, he said the police blamed Makgatje.

The next day, Makgatje was charged with murdering Mbulawa by “slapping or hitting him with clenched fists.” He was released to his family and a Nov. 7 court date was set.

“When a youngster is arrested in perfect health on a Tuesday and dies in police custody on a Friday, they’ve got to explain how it happened,” Boyce, Makgatje’s lawyer, said later. “Short of admitting they did it, they have to say the inmates did it.”

The state autopsy concludes that Mbulawa died of a brain hemorrhage caused by a single blow to the head. But a veteran pathologist who has seen the report said it was very unlikely that a hand or fist could have caused the fatal injury. A boot or shoe was more likely, said the doctor, who asked not to be identified by name.

The Welverdiend unit and the officer investigating Mbulawa’s death both report to Col. Austen, who said in an interview that he is satisfied that the case “has been thoroughly investigated.”

In a written reply to questions from The Times, police headquarters in Pretoria said, “There is no . . . evidence that the deceased (Mbulawa) had been tortured by the police.” It added that the police “emphatically deny that they assaulted or tortured the deceased.”

Oosthuizen, 22, who was transferred to Welverdiend several months ago from the riot squad in Pretoria, said he could not comment without Austen’s permission. About the allegations of torture, however, he said: “As far as I’m concerned it’s not true. But let’s leave it there.”

Unlike Mbulawa, Nixon Phiri was not a well-known township activist.

He had grown up on a white-owned vegetable farm about 10 miles from Khutsong. His mother, Maria, still works on the farm, pulling weeds. She and her three younger children share two 5-by-7-foot rooms with no running water or electricity. Her employers provide the rooms and food, including two servings of meat a week, and a monthly salary of 70 rand ($28).

Nixon moved off the farm two years ago and was living with Mrs. Phiri’s sister, Grace, in a metal shack in a Khutsong squatter camp.

Phiri and some friends were arrested in the camp about noon on Jan. 16 and taken to Welverdiend, where several dozen detainees were waiting in the kitchen to be questioned by Van Graan and his officers. One by one, the suspects were led to the interrogation rooms.

Door Was Closed

Phiri and his friends were accused of burning a van in the township. Thomas Tshabalala, 16, told lawyers later that he was punched, kicked and shocked into signing a confession. After Tshabalala was returned to the kitchen, he said, two policemen told Phiri to remove his shirt and he was taken into another room and the door was closed.

Tshabalala and another youth, Ismael Booysens, said in separate statements that they heard Phiri screaming and his body hitting the floor. At one point, both said, Phiri screamed: “ Hasena! “--It’s not me.

Shortly after that, Booysens saw two officers take Phiri outside, where water was splashed on his face. Phiri was returned to the interrogation room and Booysens remembered hearing a scream, then silence.

Maria Phiri identified her son’s body at a mortuary that afternoon.

In February, attorney Hanif Vally wrote President de Klerk to request a judicial investigation into Phiri’s death. Two weeks later, Tshabalala was killed during police action to quell township unrest, and Booysens went into hiding.

In June, De Klerk wrote Vally, saying he was “satisfied that the death of Nixon Phiri will be investigated . . . in an unbiased manner and that justice will prevail.”

The official police investigation, again conducted by one of Col. Austen’s men, was completed last month, nine months after the death.

Two policemen, one black and one white, had been questioning Phiri that day, according to the police report. The officers said Phiri had become “nervous and agitated” and began talking incoherently. Then, they said, “he suddenly started shaking . . . and fell off a chair against a steel cabinet.”

The officers said they tried mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, “but he died.” They denied any assault and the police report, written in Afrikaans, said that all the other police in the unit “support this story.”

The police investigator also said Phiri’s mother and aunt signed statements saying that Nixon had suffered epileptic attacks “from when he was a small boy.”

“We’ve got no case against anyone on that evidence,” said Brunette, the Transvaal attorney general. He added, however, that an inquest is being scheduled and “the court will decide.”

The police report did not tell the whole story of Nixon Phiri’s death, however.

Phiri’s mother and aunt, in separate interviews with The Times, said Nixon had not been ill or seen a doctor since he had a brief period of chest pains at age 2. They said the police had insisted that Nixon had epilepsy and they felt pressured to agree.

“We were scared of them (the police),” Maria Phiri said. She and her sister signed the statements, which they could not read, with thumb prints.

A private autopsy conducted by Dr. Jonathan Gluckman found numerous abrasions and bruises on Phiri’s body. The largest of three bruises on his skull was about the size of a cassette tape.

Gluckman, widely known for his post-mortem of black consciousness leader Steve Biko, who died in police custody in 1977, said the cause of Nixon Phiri’s death was a brain hemorrhage “associated with external injuries.”

“I’d be very, very surprised if an epileptic seizure caused all those injuries,” Gluckman said later. “I’d say he was very badly beaten up.”

A few days ago, Van Graan was standing in the sunshine outside his headquarters, the Welverdiend house where Eugene Mbulawa and Nixon Phiri suffered their fatal injuries. A sprinkler was watering the lawn and just inside the front door of the quiet house lay a single brown shoe.

The 26-year police veteran, a slightly built man with a deeply lined face and gray hair, admitted that he is worried about the allegations against him and his men. But, he said, “They’ve been saying that for years.”

Then he added: “I am not a monster.”