Much reference has been had to the LLD research that our CEO (myself) is currently invested in, but very little has been said about exactly WHAT this research is, and what it could mean for the FPC and South African firearm owners in general. This blog post is the first real glimpse into research that even the other directors of the FPC have not been fully aware of. Research takes time, and knowledge and understanding takes even more time. On the cusp of nearly ten years of research and writing, there is finally something to say about it.
It has been said and alluded to several times already that the FPC’s raison de’etre is to advocate for rational firearm policy at the political level, which will then naturally result in law and regulatory reform. This is the FPC mission in broad strokes, but it needs something to fit within the four corners of ‘advocating for rational policy’. This is where the mentioned LLD research comes in, and we will discuss it a bit so that you can better understand why so much hangs on this research.
Broadly speaking, there are many people who know a lot about South African firearm law, and perhaps even a little about foreign law. There is no shortage of experts on the FCA, of which Martin Hood perhaps stands with particular distinction. There is however a vacuum in respect of understanding South African firearm regulation in its entirety. The further we go back in time, the less people know. What is ‘known’ is often anecdotal or reasonable suspicion, and very little is factually known.
The LLD research is about nine years in the making, and became more focused and crystalised with each passing year. Even at the time of registering for the LLD, the scope was enormous: historical development from colonial era to present day, an effectiveness review (including a literature review), international comparison, critical and constitutional review, and reform recommendations. The university research committee expressed their concern at how ambitious it was, but approved it nonetheless.
It became apparent very early in the actual writing stage that the initial scope was far too wide. First, international comparison was axed, then the reform recommendations, then the effectiveness review, then the critical and constitutional review. All that was left was cataloguing the historical development. It would not have been impossible to exceed the 100,000 word count and squeeze in another theme, but it was felt that focusing on only one theme would provide for a far richer and enhanced understanding of that one theme.
Broadly speaking, the LLD is broken up into four parts. Part One is discusses the development of colonial laws and the reasons for the laws, divided between the four colonial jurisdictions of the Cape, Natal, Orange Free State, and Zuid-Afrikaansche Republiek. Part Two peeks beyond the black letter text of the law to try and understand the broader social context in which these laws were created. Part Three then discusses the main laws of the Arms and Ammunition Acts of 1937 and 1969, and all their amendments until their eventual repeal. Part Four finally looks at the Firearms Control Act and how South African courts have contributed to understanding firearm regulation in the 21st century.
The colonial era proved to be an extremely difficult era to work with. Whatever one may say of the time, it is complicated beyond measure. Everything is a reaction to something else, and everything is nearly perpetually on fire. There is no clear good vs bad in this time, as much as certain events can be criticised as objectively bad. The legal landscape was an absolute mess of dozens of laws, and the LLD will make a huge contribution to unravelling the birds nest of string so that everyone can better understand this very complex era.
The discussion of the colonial era does not only focus on the actual laws and their contents. A significant amount of text is devoted to understanding the social dynamics of this very complex and chaotic era, of which the Confederation Project of 1875 would have enormous ramifications for everyone involved. Reference is had to case studies of the Langalibalele Affair of 1973 and BaSotho War of the Gun of 1880 to help reveal the deep and often personal significance that firearms had to people, especially blacks during the colonial era. I will need to write am FPC blog post that discusses these two events in more detail.
The post-war era of the 20th century is likewise a deeply sad and dark period of South African history, and firearm regulation is no less affected by the outright racism and discrimination of the time. The parliament records for the debate to the 1937 Arms and Ammunition Act made it very clear: black firearm ownership was to be as limited as possible, and laws were created to punish whites who allowed it to happen (such as by losing their firearms).
The 1969 Arms and Ammunition Act was little different, and the Central Firearms Registry was created in an effort for ever more control over firearms. This was all intended to prevent and reduce black firearm ownership as much as possible. The laws got stricter and harsher with nearly every amendment, and ended up straddling good faith regulation (such as making it illegal to point or shoot without a good reason), and outright control (licences for each firearm, and eventually safe storage and proficiency training requirements).
By the time of the Firearms Control Act, the 1990s had produced outright and absolute hysteria about ‘illegal firearms’, especially the AK47 which acquired near legendary and mythical significance. Everyone was absolutely terrified, and politicians were desperate to try and show that they were doing something. This track record has unfortunately continued until 2025.
At no point was anybody interested in trying to fundamentally understand the problem that needed to be solved: violent crime. It was far easier to make new laws that did not even address a symptom of violent crime. Instead, laws were made to address a tool of the symptom.
King Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes that there is nothing new under the sun, and that everything is vanity. As far as firearm regulation and control is concerned, he could also have added that everything is hubris. The way in which government (and even many firearm owners!) understand firearm regulation and control is terribly broken. Almost none of it makes sense, because all of it is sheer unbridled hubris. Nearly all of it is uncritically inherited and regurgitated claptrap from as far back as 1840s Natal Colony.
The conclusions of this research has revealed many revelations that have significant implications for future firearm regulation laws, and this is worthy of an FPC blog post by itself. For now, it is worthwhile to reflect on what it means for firearm owners today. Terms and concepts such as ‘illegal firearms’ are utterly meaningless (the author first mused on this here), only given any sense of credibility because of the laws we have had since the 1840s. Despite this, many in the firearm owning community are guilty of giving even more credibility to these meaningless words. They do this simply by using them in their arguments, thereby saying that they agree with them. This is the result of living with questionable policy and laws for nearly a century: even the ‘obvious’ contradictions are accepted as gospel.
We have now had a Central Firearms Registry for so long, that to advocate for its abolition makes people stare at you as they try and process your blasphemy. Firearm owners bemoan ‘illegal firearms’, without the slightest sense of how silly the concept is. We entertain and talk using the nonsense dichotomies created by the people and organisations that hate what we love. For all intents and purposes, we play by the rules and definitions created by our opponents. We have totally capitulated.
For many years now, it has been popular to state how law-abiding firearm owners are (the most law abiding in all of society!). This ignores an obvious a deeply problematic issue: what if the laws are stupid and ridiculous beyond belief? Many of them are, and all it says is that we are gullible fools who will do anything to maintain that arbitrary standard.
We walked right into the dumb trap when the anti-gun brigade asked how such a ‘law-abiding and self-proclaimed responsible sector of society’ could prove themselves to be law breakers and irresponsible by letting so many firearm licences expire. Of course, the argument was a stupid and cheap political shot, and fortunately nobody listened or cared about what they said. That said, it proved a huge blind spot, and this is because we have accepted all the flaws of our past. We accepted the flaws of our past because nobody truly understood our past.
The LLD research goes a long way to correcting that, by hopefully providing a deeply meaningful way in which to understand modern firearm law (the FCA). A whole and total understanding of the past will enable us to avoid past mistakes, and jettison the many useless and ignorant laws that we have uncritically inherited over more than 185 years. It is always important to be precise in our words and meaning, and this research makes it so much more possible to achieve that.
Whether firearm ownership is a right or not is disputed, and even in South Africa there has been an impressive amount of consideration around this issue. As a standalone concept, it perhaps distracts from a far more meaningful and wholly undisputed right: the right to freedom and security of the person. It is so uncontroversial that you will find it in section 12(1)(c) of the Constitution. It is directly related to the section 11 right to life, and section 10 right to dignity. You may even throw in the section 21 right to freedom of movement. There is perhaps even a strong argument around the section 9 right to equality.
The right to life and security of the person are completely meaningless on their own, and mere words on paper. We call this a ‘normative’ right, meaning it is merely good and desirable, even idealistic. What it is definitely not, is secure and guaranteed.
There needs to be more focus on the ability of a person to secure and vindicate this right for themselves, for which a firearm can be very effective. The right to at least try is central to this, because the current situation says that someone else (the government) needs to grant you the privilege to acquire the tools you need to secure your safety. Only then may you acquire a firearm, and God help you if you need it in the six-month plus period before a bureaucrat in Pretoria says that you succeeded in convincing the Registrar of your ‘need’.
What I have just done in the previous three paragraphs is to touch on a critical and constitutional review of the FCA. This would not have been possible without the understanding of every discovered law since 1797, and this is precisely why this LLD research is so important, even essential, to South African firearm owners going forward: it is the foundation to any subsequent legal research on the topic of South African firearm regulation.