The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990

Home > Other > The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990 > Page 70
The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990 Page 70

by Margaret Thatcher


  In fact, the UN did authorize the South Africans to use their forces. But it was all legal. Though there were many casualties, a full-scale confrontation was avoided, assembly points were designated to which SWAPO units reported to be escorted back across the border with their arms by UN forces, a new cease-fire was agreed — and this now held. That autumn SWAPO won the elections for the Namibian Constituent Assembly and Mr Nujoma became President — in which capacity he thanked me when I was at the United Nations in September 1990 for my intervention. In fact, I had held no brief for SWAPO. But I did believe that only with the issue of Namibia sorted out could there be peaceful change in South Africa. I had been the right person in the right place at the right time.

  But my activities in black Africa had little impact on ‘Commonwealth opinion’. Nor, it seemed, did changes in South Africa itself.

  Rhetoric and Reality in South Africa, 1989–1990

  I had always felt that fundamental reform would never take place while P. W. Botha was President. But in January 1989 Mr Botha suffered a stroke and the following month was succeeded as National Party Leader by F. W. de Klerk, who became President in August. It was surely right to give the new South African leader the opportunity to make his mark without ham-fisted outside intervention.

  The 1989 CHOGM was due to take place in October in Kuala Lumpur, hosted by Dr Mahathir. I went there with a new Foreign Secretary, John Major, and a renewed determination not to go further down the path of sanctions. I also tried to raise the sights of those present to the great changes which were taking place in the world around them. Introducing the session on the ‘World Political Scene’ I drew attention to the momentous changes occurring in the Soviet Union and their implications for all of us. I said that there was now the prospect of settling regional conflicts — not least those in Africa — which had been aggravated by the international subversion of communism. Throughout the world we must now ardently advocate democracy and a much freer economic system. I secretly hoped that the message would not be lost on the many illiberal, collectivist Commonwealth countries whose representatives were present.

  But the debate on South Africa brought out all the old venom. Bob Hawke and Kenneth Kaunda argued the case for sanctions. I intervened to read out a letter I had recently received from a British company which had invested in pineapple-canning in South Africa, but found its export markets in the USA and Canada cut off by sanctions and had therefore been forced to close, putting 1,100 black and 40 white South Africans out of work. That was the only sense in which sanctions ‘worked’. I also quoted figures to show that Britain’s share of South African imports and exports had fallen further over the last eight years than that of the rest of the Commonwealth, adding that our share had largely been picked up by Japan and Germany. I pointed out that Britain was providing substantial help for black South Africans, their education, their housing, rural projects, refugees from Mozambique and aid to the ‘front line’ states. We were assisting ‘Operation Hunger’ which provides meals for millions of poor South Africans. By contrast, the aim of many others at the CHOGM seemed to be to multiply the number of those who were hungry.

  By now I was quite used to the vicious, personal attacks in which my Commonwealth colleagues liked to indulge. John Major was not: he found their behaviour quite shocking. I left him back in Kuala Lumpur with the other Foreign ministers to draft the communiqué while I and the other heads of government went off to our retreat in Langkawi. While I was there my officials faxed through a text which the Foreign ministers apparently thought we could all ‘live with’. But I could only live with it if I also put out a separate unambiguous statement of our own views. I had it drafted and sent back to John Major in Kuala Lumpur. Contrary to what the press — almost as eager for ‘splits’ as they were for describing Britain’s ‘isolation’ — subsequently alleged, John was quite happy to go along with issuing a separate British document and made some changes to it, which I agreed. I suspect that he had had his fill of Commonwealth diplomacy already. The issue, however, of our separate document prompted howls of anger from the other heads of government. At the session of CHOGM at which Dr Mahathir reported on the retreat at Langkawi Bob Hawke intervened to protest about what Britain had done. Brian Mulroney followed this up. It was, in fact, clearly planned. They arrived at the meeting together and signalled to each other before Bob Hawke spoke. I replied by saying that I owed nobody an explanation and was astounded that anyone should object to a nation putting forward its own viewpoint. They had put forward their views in speeches and press conferences and Britain had as much right to free speech as they did. That ended the discussion.

  In South Africa as 1990 opened the movement which I had hoped and worked for began. There were indications that Nelson Mandela would, after all the years of pressure, not least from me, shortly be released. I told our ambassador, Robin Renwick, that I would welcome the chance to see President de Klerk at Chequers if he visited Europe in the spring. I told the Foreign Office — who did not like it one bit — that as soon as Mr Mandela was freed I wanted us to respond rapidly by rescinding or relaxing the measures we had taken against South Africa, starting with the relatively minor ones which rested with us alone and did not have to be discussed with the European Community.

  On 2 February 1990 President de Klerk made a speech which announced Mr Mandela’s and other black leaders’ imminent release, the unbanning of the ANC and other black political organizations and promised an end to the state of emergency as soon as possible. I immediately went back to the Foreign Office and said that once the promises were fulfilled we should end the ‘voluntary’ ban on investment and encourage the other European Community countries to do likewise. I asked Douglas Hurd — now Foreign Secretary — to propose to other Community Foreign ministers at his forthcoming meeting with them an end to the restrictions on purchase of krugerrands and iron and steel. I also decided to send messages to other heads of government urging practical recognition of what was happening in South Africa.

  In April I was briefed by Dr Gerrit Viljoen, the South African Minister for Constitutional Development, on the contacts between the South African Government and the ANC, now effectively led once more by Mr Mandela. I was disappointed by the fact that Mr Mandela kept repeating the old ritual phrases, arguably suitable for a movement refused recognition, but not for one aspiring to a leading and perhaps dominant role in government. The South African Government was formulating its own ideas for the constitution and was moving towards a combination of a lower house elected by one-man one-vote with an upper chamber with special minority representation. This would help to accommodate the great ethnic diversity which characterizes South Africa, although in the long run some sort of cantonal system may be needed to do this efficiently.

  By the time that President de Klerk set off for his talks with European leaders in May, discussions with the ANC had begun in earnest. I was also glad that the South African Government was paying due regard to Chief Buthelezi, who had been such a stalwart opponent of violent uprising in South Africa while the ANC had been endorsing the Marxist revolution, to which some of its members are still attached.

  Talks with President de Klerk and Mr Mandela

  President de Klerk, Pik Botha and their wives came to talks and lunch at Chequers on Saturday 19 May. I felt that Mr de Klerk had grown in stature since my last meeting with him a year ago. It struck me that there were parallels with Mr Gorbachev — though perhaps neither would have welcomed the comparison: in each case one man brought to power through an unjust and oppressive system had the combination of vision and prudence to set about changing that system. My talks with Mr de Klerk focused on his plans for the next steps in bringing the ANC to accept a political and economic system which would secure South Africa’s future as a liberal, free enterprise country. The violence between blacks, which was to get worse, was already the single biggest obstacle to progress. But he was optimistic about the prospects for agreement with the ANC on a new constitutio
n; and he thought that the ANC wanted this too.

  We discussed what should be done about sanctions. He said that he was not like a dog begging for a biscuit, seeking specific rewards for actions he took. What he wanted was the widest possible international recognition of and support for what he was doing, leading to a fundamental revision of attitudes towards South Africa. This seemed to me very sensible. Mr de Klerk also invited me to South Africa. I said that I would love to come but I did not want to make things more difficult for him at this particular moment. There was, I knew, nothing more likely to sour his dealings with other governments who had been proved wrong about South Africa than for me to arrive in his country as a kind of proclamation that I had been right. (In fact, it is a disappointment to me that I was never to go to South Africa as Prime Minister and I only finally accepted his invitation after I left office.)

  On Wednesday 4 July I held talks and had lunch at Downing Street with the other main player in South African politics, Nelson Mandela. I had seen him briefly in the spring when he had been feted by the media Left, attending a concert in Wembley in his honour, but this was the first time I really got to know him. The Left were rather offended that he was prepared to see me at all. But then he, unlike them, had a shrewd view as to what kind of pressure for his release had been more successful. I found Mr Mandela supremely courteous, with a genuine nobility of bearing and — most remarkable after all he had suffered — without any bitterness. I warmed to him. But I also found him very outdated in his attitudes, stuck in a kind of socialist timewarp in which nothing had moved on, not least in economic thinking, since the 1940s. Perhaps this was not surprising in view of his long years of imprisonment: but it was a disadvantage in the first few months of his freedom because he tended to repeat these outdated platitudes which in turn confirmed his followers in their exaggerated expectations.

  I made four main points in our discussion. First, I urged him to suspend the ‘armed struggle’. Whatever justification there might have been for this was now gone. Second, I supported the South African Government’s arguments against having an elected Constituent Assembly to draw up a constitution. It seemed to me that in order to maintain both the confidence of the white population and law and order it should be for the Government, the ANC and Inkatha (Chief Buthelezi’s movement) and others to agree on a constitution now. Third, I pointed out the harm which all his talk of nationalization could do to foreign investment and the economy in general. Finally, I said that I thought he should meet Chief Buthelezi personally — which he was refusing to do. This was the only hope for ending the violence between their supporters. Our relationship was unharmed by my straight talking. In spite of his socialist outlook, I believed that South Africa was lucky to have a man of Mr Mandela’s stature at such a time. Indeed, I hoped he would assert himself more at the expense of some of his ANC colleagues.

  It was only shortly before I left office that President de Klerk again came to see me at Chequers — on Sunday 14 October. There had been some progress since I had seen Mr Mandela in June. The ANC had agreed to suspend the ‘armed struggle’ and the two sides had agreed in principle on the arrangements for the return of South African exiles and the release of the rest of the political prisoners. The remaining features of the old apartheid system were being dismantled. The Land Acts were due to be repealed and the Population Registration Act — the last remaining legislative pillar of apartheid — would go when a new constitution was agreed. Only state education remained segregated but movement on this — for the whites — very sensitive matter had also begun. However, violence between blacks had sharply worsened and this was poisoning the atmosphere for negotiations.

  The South Africans were being careful about pressing for the lifting of the remaining sanctions. The most important contribution to this would have been that of the ANC: but they stubbornly refused to recognize that the case for sanctions — to the extent it had ever existed — was dead. Within the European Community, the key to a formal change of policy now was Germany, but for domestic political reasons Chancellor Kohl was still unwilling to act. The Americans held back for similar reasons. However, as President de Klerk told me, in practice most of the economic sanctions were being steadily eroded and what really mattered to the South Africans now was access to foreign loans and investment. (In fact, sanctions were gradually dismantled over the next few years: indeed the international community began to prepare financial aid for South Africa to undo the damage that sanctions had wrought.)

  President de Klerk was clearly frustrated that the further round of informal talks with the ANC on the constitution for which he had been pressing had still not occurred. The longer the process continued the more opportunity there was for hardliners — on either side — to derail the negotiations. The main principle to which he held was that there must be power sharing in the Executive. In the new South Africa no one must have as much power as he himself had now. In some respects he thought that the Swiss Federal Cabinet was a guide to what was needed. This seemed to me to be very much on the right lines — not that either hybrid constitutions or federal systems have much inherent appeal, but in states where allegiances are at least as much to subordinate groups as to the overarching institutions of the state itself these things may constitute the least bad approach. It remains to be seen whether the ANC leadership is prepared to recognize this. With all the risks of violence and all the shortcomings of the various political factions, South Africa remains the strongest economy on the continent and has the most skilled and educated population. It would be a tragedy if it cannot exploit these advantages to build a genuine democracy, which respects minority rights, on the foundation of a free economy.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  Jeux Sans Frontières

  Relations with the European Community — 1984–1987

  TWO VISIONS OF EUROPE

  The wisdom of hindsight, so useful to historians and indeed to authors of memoirs, is sadly denied to practising politicians. Looking back, it is now possible to see the period of my second term as Prime Minister as that in which the European Community subtly but surely shifted its direction away from being a Community of open trade, light regulation and freely co-operating sovereign nation-states towards statism and centralism. I can only say that it did not seem like that at the time. For it was during this period that I not only managed to secure a durable financial settlement of Britain’s Community budget imbalance and began to get Europe to take financial discipline more seriously, but also launched the drive for a real Common Market free of hidden protectionism. It was clear to me from the start that there were two competing visions of Europe: but I felt that our vision of a free enterprise Europe des patries was predominant.

  Now I see the period somewhat differently. For the underlying forces of federalism and bureaucracy were gaining in strength as a coalition of Socialist and Christian Democrat governments in France, Spain, Italy and Germany forced the pace of integration and a commission, equipped with extra powers, began to manipulate them to advance its own agenda. It was only in my last days in office and under my successor that the true scale of the challenge has become clear.

  At this time I genuinely believed that once our budget contribution had been sorted out and we had set in place a framework of financial order, Britain would be able to play a strong positive role in the Community. I considered myself a European idealist, even if my ideals differed somewhat from those expressed with varying degrees of sincerity by other European heads of government. I told a dinner of Conservative MEPs on Thursday 8 March 1984:

  I don’t want to paper over the cracks. I want to get rid of the cracks. I want to rebuild the foundations.

  …I want to solve [the current problems] so that we can set about building the Community of the future. A Community striving for freer trade, breaking down the barriers in Europe and the world to the free flow of goods, capital and services; working together to make Europe the home of the industries of tomorrow; seizing the initiative on world
problems, not reacting wearily to them; forging political links across the European divide and so creating a more hopeful relationship between East and West; using its influence as a vital area of stability and democracy to strengthen democracy across the world.

  That is my vision.

  It was also, incidentally, the vision on which we were to fight the European Assembly elections later that year and do remarkably well, winning 45 out of the 81 United Kingdom seats.

  REFORMING COMMUNITY FINANCES: BRITAIN’S BUDGET CONTRIBUTION

  Before there was any hope of moving far towards those wider objectives I had to get more understanding and support from other Community heads of government for our position. The French presidency of the first half of 1984 seemed to offer an opportunity which must be grasped. The events in Athens the previous December — where the only thing to record was disagreement — were widely considered to have reduced Community negotiations to the level of farce.[69] President Mitterrand was, I knew, someone who relished a diplomatic success and would probably be prepared to sacrifice French national interests — at least marginally — in order to secure one. In January (in Paris) and in early March (at Chequers) I had talks with him. In January Geoffrey Howe and I also discussed the Community budget and other matters with the Italian Government in Rome. The following month Chancellor Kohl and I held talks at No. 10. These meetings were pleasant enough, but no clear undertakings were given. The Foreign Affairs Councils — that is the meetings of Community Foreign ministers — in February and March advanced matters no further. But I was reasonably optimistic that the European Council in Brussels, which I was to attend on Monday 19 and Tuesday 20 March, might give us the lasting, satisfactory solution on the British budget contribution which I wanted.

 

‹ Prev