DEEP in the southern hills of KwaZulu-Natal, mourners came to bury Sindiso Magaqa on September 16th. In July gunmen ambushed Mr Magaqa and two other councillors from the African National Congress (ANC), South Africa’s ruling party, as they sat in a car. (Mr Magaqa died in hospital on September 4th.) Three other ANC politicians from the same area were gunned down between April and May. Across the province, there have been at least 40 politically motivated killings since the start of 2016.

Most of the violence has occurred within the ANC, which is steeped in corruption at all levels. On September 27th thousands of South Africans marched in protests against the graft and the country’s scandal-plagued president, Jacob Zuma, who heads the party. Nowhere is the rot within the ANC more evident than in his home province, KwaZulu-Natal, which boasts more party members than any other, though not all of the names on its rolls are real.

ANC cadres in the province compete furiously for office. Many do so because they hope to loot public coffers. Les Stuta, a friend of Mr Magaqa, believes the young councillor was murdered for asking questions about such corruption. His funeral (pictured) drew party leaders—and dozens of police, who stood guard amid fears of disputes between different factions. Tensions are rising, as the party prepares to elect new national leaders in December.

As the number of killings mounted, the premier of KwaZulu-Natal established a commission of inquiry. It began holding hearings in March on political killings since 2011. Some are a result of the fierce competition for government work—the unemployment rate in much of the province hovers around 50%. Local councillors give jobs to cronies and award contracts in return for bribes. Senzo Mchunu, a former premier, described the thinking of officials as “my turn to eat”. Others are murdered over government tenders. “The broad, overarching thing is a scramble for resources,” says Lukhona Mnguni, an analyst in Durban, the province’s biggest city. “It is also a scramble for survival—a ticket out of poverty.” KwaZulu-Natal has a brutal past. Some 20,000 people died in the province in fighting between the ANC and the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP), a group of Zulu nationalists who were sometimes aided by the apartheid security police, in the 1980s and 1990s. Locals still tend to solve their problems with guns, which are in abundant supply. Police-issued assault rifles are often used in hits. Murders are carried out with near impunity. Interference by politicians derails investigations. “The crux of the problem is atrocious policing, especially in the intelligence and detective services,” says Mary de Haas, who has monitored the violence in KwaZulu-Natal for decades. At the Glebelands hostel complex near Durban, an estimated 15,000-20,000 people squeeze into decrepit, low-rise blocks that were built during apartheid to house black workers. Over 90 people have been killed there since 2014. One man was sentenced to life in prison for murder this month—the only conviction since the violence began. The troubles were set in motion by political conflict within the local ANC, says Ms de Haas. Instead of trying to improve the lives of residents, the party’s councillors have neglected them. Though some party members have found them jobs—as hitmen, says Vanessa Burger, an independent activist. KwaZulu-Natal is a key battleground ahead of the party’s leadership conference in December. Party branches from around the country will send delegates to choose a successor to Mr Zuma. That person will also be the ANC’s presidential candidate in 2019. Mr Zuma, who ostentatiously embraces Zulu traditions such as multiple wives, is popular in the region. So is his ex-wife and preferred successor, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma. But many residents back Cyril Ramaphosa, the deputy president, or Zweli Mkhize, the treasurer of the ANC.

Tensions have risen since a court decision on September 12th that annulled the results of the provincial ANC leadership election in 2015 on procedural grounds. That poll had put a Zuma-aligned faction in power. The party is still arguing over whether to appeal. The next vote, in December, is also likely to be flawed. Nqaba Mkwanazi, an ANC councillor from Pongola, where a local leader was killed last year, told the commission of inquiry that he had evidence of 4,000 fake memberships created at one party branch. Mr Mkwanazi, like many others, fears the political violence could worsen in the run-up to the party conference.

In the aftermath of Mr Magaqa’s death, as the party came under increased scrutiny, officials announced the creation of teams to look into the killings in KwaZulu-Natal. Provincial ANC leaders have yet to appear before the commission of inquiry, but they are expected to do so next month. The probe will make little difference. Ms de Haas doubts that any findings by the commission could be implemented, given the “dysfunctional” state of the police and criminal-justice system. Mr Mkwanazi, in his testimony, admitted that there might be only one way to stop the slaughter: for his party to lose power. Then there would be nothing to fight over.