We had put the long flight out to good use, working through the precise approach we should take. I had a first-class team of advisers, and, of course, a first-class Foreign Secretary — with whom I had a lively exchange when he suggested that our mission was really a ‘damage limitation exercise’, at that time (as I told him) a phrase I had never even heard. I said that I wanted to do better than that; and between us in the end we managed to do so.
Our strategy was to take full responsibility ourselves for reaching a settlement. The task in Lusaka was to persuade the Commonwealth leaders to accept this, and to acknowledge that the Rhodesian problem was not the responsibility of the Commonwealth as a whole. To obtain that result we had to make it clear that Britain would be ready to resume authority in Rhodesia and to hold fresh elections. We knew also that there would have to be significant changes to the present constitution of Rhodesia if, after elections, the new government was to receive international recognition and acceptance. Those changes could only be brought about by some kind of Constitutional Conference bringing together all sides. The decision whether or not to hold such a conference would very much depend on how matters went at Lusaka.
My arrival in Zambia coincided with an announcement by the Nigerian Government that it was nationalizing BP’s Nigerian oil assets. This was not a good start, but I went on to have an extremely useful day of talks with other heads of government before the conference officially began on the Tuesday. There was, in fact, a high turn out: 27 heads of government were present and all 39 full Commonwealth members were represented. Our host was President Kenneth Kaunda. At the closed session, the opening speech — one of the best of the conference — was given by Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew of Singapore who reviewed international political developments. But much serious business was done ‘in the margins’, as the diplomatic jargon has it, of the larger meetings. For example, the Prime Minister of Sri Lanka asked me whether a substantial sum of British overseas aid was still available for the construction of the massive Victoria Dam in his country. I confirmed it on a postcard — undoubtedly one of the most expensive I have ever written.
However, it was the situation in Rhodesia which had to be the real priority. In my opening public statement at the conference on the Wednesday I said that we would ‘listen with the greatest attention to what is said at this meeting in Lusaka’. But on Friday, at the conference’s closed session to discuss Rhodesia, I was able to be much more specific. I said that everyone should recognize just how much had changed as a result of Bishop Muzorewa’s election even though ‘there are those who seem to believe that the world should simply go on treating [him] as if he were Mr Smith.’ I drew attention to the extensive international consultations we had undertaken to identify a solution. I acknowledged that from these we had learned the strength of the view ‘that the constitution under which Bishop Muzorewa has come to power is defective in certain important respects’, in particular the provisions whereby the white minority could block all unwelcome constitutional change. We had also observed that those consulted criticized the composition and powers of the various service commissions, and I noted ‘it is clearly wrong that the Government of [Rhodesia/Zimbabwe] should not have adequate control over certain senior appointments.’ We had been told that it was essential that the the Patriotic Front should be able to return and take a full part in politics. Finally, we had been impressed by the general conviction that any solution must derive its authority from Britain as the responsible colonial power.
I summed up our intentions:
The British Government are wholly committed to genuine black majority rule in Rhodesia… We accept that our objective must be to establish… independence on the basis of a constitution comparable with the constitutions we have agreed with other countries… We will therefore present our proposals as quickly as possible to all the parties, and at the same time call on them to cease hostilities and move forward with us to a settlement.
It had been agreed to hold back the debate on southern Africa until the Friday so that after it the heads of government could go straight to their customary informal weekend retreat for private discussions on Rhodesia’s future. My task was to win the support of the key figures there. A small group was set up consisting of myself and Peter Carrington, Mr (now Sir) Sonny Ramphal, Secretary-General of the Commonwealth, President Kaunda of Zambia, President Nyerere of Tanzania, Messrs Fraser and Manley, the Prime Ministers of Australia and Jamaica and Mr Adefope, the representative of Nigeria. Sir Anthony Duff, who was part of my team, drafted the heads of agreement. It all went remarkably smoothly until the very end. Our meeting ended successfully at Sunday lunch time and the full version of the agreement was to have been discussed and endorsed by the full conference on Monday morning. However, on Sunday afternoon Malcolm Fraser chose to brief the Australian press. This required some rapid and unconventional action.
That evening we all attended a Commonwealth service in Lusaka Cathedral, where we had the benefit of a long polemical sermon from the Archbishop. I had been told already that the press knew the substance of what had been decided. Sonny Ramphal and I were sitting together; he was to read the first lesson, and I the second. After he had read his I showed him a note I had received from Peter Carrington about Malcolm Fraser’s intervention, suggesting that we must now brief the British press on what had taken place, subject to the Secretary-General’s approval. On the back of my hymn sheet, while I was reading the second lesson, Mr Ramphal wrote an alternative suggestion. The heads of government had been invited to a barbecue that evening at Malcolm Fraser’s conference villa: we could hold a meeting there and settle a communiqué to be issued at once. This seemed to me an excellent idea. I agreed to telephone Kenneth Kaunda immediately after the service to warn him of what we had in mind. And so the meeting came about. It took an hour and there were some very pointed comments. I was none too pleased with Malcolm Fraser myself. But the conclusion was satisfactory. Indeed, most of us were relieved that it had all been so amicable and that our proceedings could therefore end a day early.
I returned home on Wednesday morning. I was well pleased with what had been achieved, so much of it by Peter Carrington and Tony Duff. Many had believed that we could not come out of Lusaka with an agreement on the lines we wanted. We had proved them wrong. We had incidentally proved the Zambian press wrong too: they had so convinced themselves beforehand of the truth of their own propaganda about me that it was clearly a shock to find that they were dealing with a real person rather than a colonial cardboard cut-out. I had no illusions about the scale of the task ahead: it was never going to be easy to steer Rhodesia to independence, legitimacy and stability. But after Lusaka I believed that it could be done, and that we had won the African good will to carry it through successfully.
Britain accordingly called a Constitutional Conference for the interested parties at Lancaster House in London in September. Its purpose was emphasized as being not just to talk but to reach a settlement. Peter Carrington arranged the agenda to take the most difficult questions last, so that the first item to be agreed was the new constitution; only then would come the question of the transitional arrangements; and finally the calling of a cease-fire. We calculated that the longer the conference continued, the less any of the interested parties would be willing to take responsibility for breaking it up. We reserved to ourselves the task of putting forward final proposals in each phase and we required the parties to respond, even if these proposals did not meet all their objectives. At each stage we had to exert pressure — direct and indirect — on the two sides to reach a satisfactory compromise. Peter Carrington chaired the conference with great skill and took charge of its day-to-day work. My role lay outside it. The heads of the ‘front line’ states came to London in person or sent in High Commissioners to see me for a progress report. President Machel of Mozambique was especially helpful in putting pressure on Robert Mugabe. I also gave dinner for President Nyerere, another strong backer of Mr Mugabe. His concern was h
ow to blend the three separate armies — the two guerilla armies and the Rhodesian army — into one, a task which in fact would fall to the British army to achieve. The Lancaster House proposals could not have got through without the support of the Presidents of the ‘front line’ states and, indeed, many other Commonwealth countries.
Just after the conference concluded, all three rival leaders — Bishop Muzorewa, Robert Mugabe and Joshua Nkomo — came to see me together at No. 10. We talked upstairs in my study. They were in contemplative mood, pondering the future. I had the clear impression that each of them expected to win. Perhaps that was just as well.
Probably the most sensitive aspect of our approach related to the transitional arrangements: it was clear to me that, both for constitutional and practical reasons, Britain must resume direct authority in Rhodesia until the elections were over, though for as short a period as possible. On 15 November a bill was introduced to provide for the appointment of a Governor and for sanctions to be removed as soon as he arrived in Rhodesia. Christopher Soames accepted the post. The decision to send him, as Governor, to Salisbury on 12 December, even before the Patriotic Front had accepted the cease-fire proposals, certainly involved some risk and was much criticized at the time. But we were clear that the momentum had to be maintained. Moreover, Christopher was an ideal appointment: not only did he have the authority of a Cabinet minister and wide diplomatic experience, he and his wife, Mary, had precisely the right style to carry off this most delicate and demanding job. Heavy pressure from the US and the ‘front line’ states finally led the Patriotic Front to accept the proposals for the cease-fire on 17 December, and the agreement was finally initialled on 21 December. I telephoned the Soameses in Salisbury on Christmas Day to wish them the season’s greetings and ask how things were. The reply was that in spite of several severe breaches of the cease-fire and some clear intimidation by the supporters of Mr Mugabe, the situation looked increasingly hopeful.
The outcome of the elections is well known. Mr Mugabe’s party, to most people’s surprise, won an overwhelming victory. On 18 April Rhodesia, as the Republic of Zimbabwe, finally received its independence.
It was sad that Rhodesia/Zimbabwe finished up with a Marxist government in a continent where there were too many Marxists malad-ministering their countries’ resources. But political and military realities were all too evidently on the side of the guerilla leaders. A government like that of Bishop Muzorewa, without international recognition, could never have brought to the people of Rhodesia the peace that they wanted and needed above all else. From the British point of view the settlement also had large benefits. With the Rhodesian question finally solved, we again played an effective role in dealing with other Commonwealth — and especially African — issues, including the pressing problem of the future of Namibia and the longer-term challenge of bringing peaceful change to South Africa. Britain had demonstrated her ability, by a combination of honest dealing and forceful diplomacy, to settle one of the most intractable disputes arising from her colonial past.
THE EC BUDGET AGREEMENT OF 1980
With the Lancaster House Conference still in progress, I had to turn my mind once again to the vexed question of how to negotiate a substantial reduction in Britain’s net contribution to the European Community budget. Figures had at long last been put on the size of that contribution and henceforth it was difficult for anyone to deny the scale of the problem. Also the European Commission had produced a report which indicated that it was indeed possible, in line with well-established Community principles, to achieve a ‘broad balance’ between British contributions and receipts. There were, therefore, some grounds for optimism, but I had no illusion that a settlement would be easy and I was well aware of the possibility of sharp practice. British officials had indicated to those of the presidency my concern at the procedural wrangles which had characterized the previous Strasbourg Council and my desire that the presidency should take a firm line and get the budget discussed early.
By this time, the member states of the Community knew that we were serious. On 18 October I delivered in Luxemburg the 1979 Winston Churchill Memorial Lecture, which, as the occasion required, dealt principally with foreign affairs.
I warned:
I must be absolutely clear about this. Britain cannot accept the present situation on the Budget. It is demonstrably unjust. It is politically indefensible: I cannot play Sister Bountiful to the Community while my own electorate are being asked to forego improvements in the fields of health, education, welfare and the rest.
We had also taken every opportunity to seek wider understanding of the merits of our case. I had talks in Bonn with Helmut Schmidt at the end of October, and on 19 and 20 November there was a two-day Anglo-French summit in London. The Germans and the French knew that I meant business.
In the run up to the Dublin Council, we examined carefully the measures available to us to bring pressure on the Community. Christopher Soames, who had great experience of the ways and wiles of the Europeans, sent me a note to the effect that the Community had never been renowned for taking unpleasant decisions without long wrangling and that I should not worry too much about the cards in my hand because a major country like Britain could disrupt the Community very effectively if it chose. I noted his advice. In this spirit, we had examined quite early on — though we looked at it again later — the possibility of withholding British payments to the Community. For practical and legal reasons this always seemed a non-starter. Nevertheless, I believed that even the possibility caused satisfactory anxiety in the Commission, whose pressure to get a satisfactory settlement was vital. We also had the lever of refusing to agree agricultural price increases, which the French and German Governments — each facing elections — wanted to see. Our moral position was strengthened, too, by the fact that the French had broken the EC law by obstructing British lamb imports: the European Court of Justice found against them on 25 September — though morality counts for little in the Community.
At the next Council — in Dublin at the end of November, the Irish having now assumed the European Community Presidency — the issue of our budget contribution dominated the business. The obvious security risk from the IRA required that I be lodged overnight in splendid isolation in Dublin Castle, the former seat of British rule. The Irish press enjoyed the idea that I slept in the bed used by Queen Victoria in 1897, though I had the advantage over her of a portable shower in my room. Indeed, I was very well looked after. The hospitality was perhaps the best feature of the visit, and contrasted strongly with the atmosphere at the meetings which was extremely and increasingly hostile. I had expected something of the sort. I went to Dublin with a newly tailored suit. Ordinarily I would have enjoyed wearing something new on an occasion as important as this, but I thought twice: I didn’t want to risk tainting it with unhappy memories. This was not, though, the only wise decision I made at Dublin: the principal one was to say very clearly, and with at least as much force as at Strasbourg, the word ‘no’.
The Council opened amicably enough in Phoenix Park at the Irish President’s official residence where he hosted lunch. Back in the Council at Dublin Castle we got down to business. My opening speech set out the facts of our case in somewhat greater detail than at Strasbourg and I elaborated on them in the vigorous debate which followed. There was a good deal of argument about the figures, at the root of which was an obscure and complex issue — how to calculate the losses and gains resulting to individual states from the operation of the CAP. But which ever way one did the sums, there was no doubt that the UK was making a huge net contribution, and unless it was mitigated it was about to become the biggest. We were not arguing that we should be net beneficiaries (though some in Britain would have wished me to); in fact, we were only asking for a ‘broad balance’. It was unacceptable that at a time when we were making cuts in public spending at home we should be expected to make a net contribution of more than £1 billion a year. I emphasized Britain’s commitment to the Commun
ity and our wish to avoid a crisis, but I left no one in any doubt that this is precisely what the Community would face if the problem were not resolved.
We had put forward our own proposals on the budget. But the Commission had come up with some of its own and I was prepared to accept their basic approach as a starting point. First, they proposed that action be taken to shift the weight of Community expenditure generally away from agriculture towards structural and investment programmes. The trouble was that this would take too long — if it happened at all. Second, they proposed, in addition, specific spending on UK projects to boost our receipts. But there simply were not enough suitable projects. Finally, on the contribution side, the 1975 Correction Mechanism had so far failed to cut our payments. If it were reformed on the lines the Commission was proposing, it could help reduce our net contributions — but still not by enough: we would still be contributing about the same as Germany and much more than France. Something far more radical would be required.
I made one other point which was to prove of some significance. I said that, ‘the arrangement [must] last as long as the problem.’ It seemed to me then, and even more so by the end of the Council, that we simply could not have these battles every year, all to establish what common sense and equity ought to have made self-evident from the beginning.
The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990 Page 10