People had split into two camps: for Seretse and against him. One of Seretse’s royal uncles, Peto Sekgoma, had completely uprooted his life to support him. A gentle and soft-spoken man, two years older than Tshekedi, Peto had left the north of Bechuanaland, where he owned a store, and moved to Serowe, so that he could use his resources and influence to help his nephew.18
The Administration was largely on Tshekedi’s side. Nettelton said he was surprised at all the fuss. ‘We all know,’ he said, ‘who will always run the Ngwato – Tshekedi of course.’19 But Sillery felt uncomfortable at the pressure from Tshekedi to take his side. He wrote to the Regent to say that he had been directed by Harragin to tell him that the Bechuanaland Protectorate Administration ‘has endeavoured to maintain an attitude of strict impartiality in the matter of Seretse Khama’s marriage to Miss Ruth Williams, which primarily concerns the tribe and Seretse’.20
As the day of the third Kgotla approached, Tshekedi became nervous and prickly. Sillery had suggested a guard of honour to mark the importance of the occasion, but the Regent was adamant that Seretse’s arrival should not be ‘heralded with undue pomp’.21 He was hurt by Seretse – the young man who used to call him ‘Father’. Seretse was driving around in one of Peto’s cars, instead of his own.22 And although Seretse was staying at Tshekedi’s house, he was not eating there; noticing this, a British official wondered if he was afraid of being poisoned.23
Tshekedi furnished the Police Commissioner with a list of people who, he alleged, were plotting against him and holding secret meetings. By secret meetings, he meant meetings that were held without the knowledge of himself, as Native Authority. As a precaution, the Commissioner obtained additional Bren light machine-guns, tear-gas bulbs and canisters.24 Tensions grew higher when it was announced that meetings were forbidden and Peto Sekgoma and another man disguised themselves as women, by wearing women’s shawls, in order to meet one of Seretse’s supporters off a train without being stopped.25 This was Serogola Seretse, one of Seretse’s cousins, who was an enemy of Tshekedi.
The atmosphere was electric when the third Kgotla started on Tuesday 20 June. At least 8,000 men had come from all over the reserve, many of them wearing their greatcoats and uniforms from World War II.26 Tshekedi had invited three diKgosi from neighbouring nations: Kgosi Kgari of the Bakwena, Kgosi Mokgosi of the Balete, and Bathoen II, Kgosi of the Bangwaketse. Kgosi Kgari was a man of about 40, who had been a sergeant-major in the army during the war.27 Bathoen II, also in his forties, was small and slight, with spectacles, and always seemed to be frowning.28 He was a close friend and a political ally of Tshekedi. Like him, he was rigid and austere: a teetotaller who did not even drink tea or coffee, as he thought them too stimulating.29 Kgosi Mokgosi belonged to Seretse’s generation. The diKgosi had been invited as witnesses and, if necessary, to offer guidance on Tswana procedures and customs; it was normal among Batswana people for one nation to act as a ‘guardian’ of another, if it was in trouble.30
Vivien Ellenberger, First Assistant Secretary in Mafikeng, was in attendance as the Government Representative; he was fluent in Setswana and it was his job to write a record of the proceedings. A quiet and reserved man, Ellenberger came of Swiss missionary stock and his father had been Resident Commissioner of the Protectorate in the 1920s. ‘All the VIPs are accommodated on a platform with roof,’ reported Ellenberger to the resident commissioner with satisfaction – ‘Quite pleasant and certainly better than sitting in the sun!’31
Tshekedi opened the Kgotla and Alan Seager said a prayer. Then the business of the Assembly began: the Regent stated that Seretse had married a woman who was unacceptable as the wife of the Kgosi and the mother of the future Kgosi. Seretse quietly, and with dignity, pointed out that Khama III had also married against the wishes of his people, as had his father and even Tshekedi himself; he stated firmly that he would not divorce his wife.
On the second day, attendance increased. ‘From the dais above the ground level of the kgotla,’ reported the South African Press Association, ‘there is a good view of the crowd of 9,000 men seated below on stools and chairs beneath the camelthorn trees. The crowd is about 1,000 more than yesterday…’ First there was a prayer. Then Manyaphiri Ikitseng spoke. He was a senior member of the Royal House, who was now in his fifties and lived at Mahalapye village. He described a meeting of the elders on 13 November, when they had tried to persuade Seretse that his marriage was a mistake. But they had had no intention, he said, of depriving him of his right to be Kgosi – and if Seretse would not divorce his wife, then he would accept her. ‘Today,’ he affirmed, ‘I say that I want that woman even though at first I objected to the marriage.’ Manyaphiri was followed by another senior man, who was blind. In a long speech he rebuked Seretse for his marriage. If he wanted to marry and light the family fire, he said, it must be done according to custom – ‘but Seretse has broken the family water pot’.32
In the afternoon, Seretse put forward a request regarding procedure. Tshekedi had started the Kgotla with the instruction that a few people on each side should speak, to be answered by the same number of people on the other side. He defended this method on the grounds that it would avoid a string of speakers, all addressing the same point. But some people objected. ‘Chief Tshekedi has stopped us from speaking,’ complained one man, ‘because he has noticed that Seretse’s followers would outnumber his.’ Seretse shared this concern. ‘I request that the usual procedure should be adopted when people speak at random,’ he said. ‘I ask that anybody be allowed to speak, according to our usual custom. The Government Representative is here to obtain your views, whether you are poor or rich, clean or dirty.’ His request was granted: it was agreed that no limit should be put on the number of speakers.
Seretse told the Assembly that he wished to stay in Serowe, but that he would not abandon his wife. If they wanted him to stay, they would have to accept Ruth too. He argued that the discussion was not really about his marriage, but about who was to be Kgosi. ‘We have finished talking about the wedding,’ he said. ‘The question is, “Am I to be your Chief or not?”’33
‘The town is on fire,’ commented an elder in dismay, ‘and I look to the representatives of other tribes here.’ Turning to the visiting diKgosi, he said,
We cannot put it out, we look to you. Seretse has taken himself a wife and we were united that every effort must be made to undo the marriage. I do not want the woman. I asked the Government to separate Seretse and his wife.
But, he added,
Now I have changed my attitude, I am no longer concerned with the woman, I am concerned with the question of the Chieftainship… Seretse has taken a wife, but that cannot spoil his birthright. He is the heir. Let discussion of his wife be put aside.
The next speaker thought this was the right approach. ‘The woman is an excuse only,’ he said. ‘I agree to the woman. Seretse can be installed by the Tribe and the Government.’ It was time to be reasonable, argued the nobleman Goareng Mosinyi:
We refused the woman, but he refused to part from her, although he asked forgiveness for failing to consult us. He still refuses to part from her. Now I see that we cannot part him from the woman, so I think it better to let her come.
By the end of the second day, Ellenberger judged that Seretse was far more popular than Tshekedi. ‘It begins to look fairly certain that Seretse will have a per capita majority,’ he reported, ‘but that the “gents” of the tribe who are the large property owners and heads of large sections will stick to Tshekedi.’34
On the third day, Oabona Nthobatsang made a plea on Seretse’s behalf. He pointed out that his own people had sought asylum from Khama III, who took them into his care, so that they were all now Bangwato – ‘What would happen if we Makalaka said we do not want a Mongwato?’ Oabona then asked, ‘What is the opinion of the Government?’ and was told that it was neutral. ‘Have we any power,’ he went on, ‘to annul the marriage which has been solemnised by the white people?’ – a question that was answered
by a roar of ‘No’. He concluded: ‘I want that European woman to come here. We have nothing bad against her except her colour. I entirely support Seretse.’35
At noon, Serogola Seretse argued strongly in Seretse’s defence. ‘The talk is no longer about the wife but about the Chieftainship,’ he said. ‘Sekgoma’s son, not Khama’s, is the Kgosi. Seretse is the Kgosi. I say, let the woman come and their child shall succeed.’ In that heated moment, Serogola threw his hat on the ground.36 Tshekedi, he argued, had shown that he wanted to keep the kingship for himself. In two private meetings, he had said nothing. But, he went on, whereas there was an English proverb which said silence gives consent, among the Bangwato silence meant dissent. He said he was suspicious about Tshekedi’s motives, wondering if the Regent was trying to usurp his nephew’s right to the Khama inheritance. Then he ended his speech by saying:
Tshekedi said that he will not give Seretse the inheritance unless he gives up the woman. Had he not said that, I should have still persisted in opposition to the marriage; as it is I am changed, I now say let her come. His child by her shall be our Kgosi.37
Serogola’s speech was heard in attentive silence.
On the fourth day of the Kgotla, after a prayer, Ellenberger was aware of a change in the atmosphere – ‘emotions rising and some exhibitions of excitement’. He warned the Assembly not to lose selfcontrol, or he would have the meeting closed.38 Tshekedi made a ‘long and impassioned’ reply to Serogola. Then, looking directly at Seretse, he said, ‘These people want to destroy the House of Khama by separating me from you. The House of Khama is Seretse’s, but I want him to have a black child, not a white one.’39 But this appeal on the grounds of colour was unsuccessful. One man pointed out that the members of the British Administration were a different colour. ‘By saying we object to colour,’ he said, ‘we are objecting to the Protectorate. Our protectors are of a different colour, we cannot disregard them; they are here.’ Little interest was shown in the issue of colour, beyond a concern about the way many whites behaved towards black people – ‘I cannot accept a woman who will probably send dogs after me when I attempt to go to her home.’40
Then Tshekedi spoke at great length. He concluded with a comment on Khama’s property, which he claimed had been left to him and not to his nephew. He had been planning to hand it on to Seretse, he said, but now he had decided not to do so. ‘Seretse disregards our customs,’ he said, ‘and therefore we must go all the way. I shall not give Khama’s property to him. This action will be hurtful to you and to him but you have hurt me more.’
His next move was to turn to his natural supporters – the ‘gents’ of the tribe, as Ellenberger had described them, who were men of influence and substance. He called them up to the dais – nine senior men, including Rasebolai Kgamane, who was third in line of succession to the kingship. ‘The people you see standing here,’ said the Regent to the Assembly, ‘are my successors if I should die.’ Each one of the men gave their view that Ruth was not a suitable wife for Seretse. This dramatic moment was followed by tea. ‘I have spoken at great length,’ said Tshekedi, wearily, ‘and I feel I cannot concentrate. We shall therefore have a little break.’
After this interval, Seretse launched into a gentle speech that responded to the points made by his uncle. Then he asked the members of the Royal Family who agreed with him to stand. Thirteen men stood up – including Keaboka Kgamane, Peto Sekgoma, Manyaphiri Ikitseng, and Serogola Seretse – and he called them to the dais. These men of the Royal Family outnumbered the royals who had stood up for the Regent, although Tshekedi later suggested they were not as senior as the people who supported him – ‘Of all the people I presented to Government, I did not show the number, but the quality.’41
But then Seretse made a bold move. He turned to the many thousands of men in front of him – the commoners – and said:
I want the Acting Deputy Resident Commissioner [Ellenberger] to know that I have supporters. I would like all the [royal headmen] standing inside and outside the kgotla to sit down so that those who want me and my wife should show me by standing.
This brought nearly every man to his feet – the whole Assembly, in a cloud of brown dust – thousands of men shouting ‘Pula, Pula, Pula!’42 Then Seretse asked those who did not want his wife, to stand up – and not more than forty did so. The consensus of the Kgotla was visible for all to see – Seretse had been acclaimed as Kgosi and Ruth had been accepted as his wife. ‘It was a stirring spectacle, a magnificent expression of public sentiment,’ reported Ellenberger, evidently moved. According to Noel Monks of the Daily Mail, who was watching, the Assembly applauded thunderously for ten minutes.43
‘I am not bringing this discussion to an end,’ said Seretse. ‘I was merely following a suggestion made that a vote should be taken.’ But the discussion was at an end, because the majority had given their view. Ellenberger sent an urgent telegram to Sir Evelyn Baring in Pretoria: ‘Assemblage has demonstrated in unmistakeable terms that it desires Seretse as Kgosi and accepts wife. Meeting will conclude tomorrow.’44 Seretse, though a novice in kgotla practice, had triumphed over Tshekedi, the veteran. But this popular show of opinion was not part of the kgotla tradition. It was a new way of doing things – and an early sign that Seretse believed community affairs could be run in a different way, if this was appropriate and necessary.45
But in any case, Seretse could not have succeeded if he had not had a genuine interest in the views of the commoners and the poor. This was a concern that was entirely in the spirit of the tradition of the Kgotla: that commoners had as much right to air their views as members of the Royal Family. Under Tshekedi, this spirit had often been lost.46 But it was an important influence on Seretse: when at Lovedale College, he had been critical of royals who had insisted on others addressing them as ‘Kgosi’. On one occasion, when Seretse trod on the foot of another student, the boy complained, ‘You act just like a chief!’ Seretse responded firmly: ‘At school there are no chiefs. We are all equal.’47
On the day after Seretse’s triumph at the Kgotla, diKgosi Bathoen, Kgari and Mokgosi gave addresses in turn. Bathoen showed his support for Tshekedi in a bitter attack on Seretse. But Kgosi Kgari was strictly impartial. ‘Although we seem to differ in certain respects,’ he argued, ‘we should work together and forget all the minor differences, let alone what transpired in this dispute. Whether you have lost or not, there should be peace.’ Kgosi Mokgosi mentioned the possibility that Tshekedi’s chief aim was to stay in power. ‘I don’t say Tshekedi may wish to retain the Chieftainship,’ he observed, ‘but he may be using this as an excuse to do so.’48
‘I have heard your decision,’ Ellenberger told the thousands of Bangwato men in front of him, ‘and I shall report it to the Resident Commissioner, and it will also be intimated to the High Commissioner and the Secretary of State.’49 To demonstrate his neutrality on the issue, he paid an equal measure of respect to Seretse and to Tshekedi: ‘To you Seretse I wish to assure you of my good wishes. To Chief Tshekedi, I tender an expression of my esteemed regard.’
Saturday 25 June was the sixth and final day of the Kgotla. After a prayer, Tshekedi told the people assembled that he now wished to give them leave to return to their homes – Go naya tsela. Then he expressed his sorrow at what had transpired. ‘I am grieved by all your accusations but I do not propose to reply,’ he said, sadly. ‘I take asylum in the Sechuana expression, “Dogs always bark at their Master.”’ He then announced his intention to leave the Bangwato Reserve.
I bid you farewell. I have fled from you. I said I will go alone, I will not contest the land with Seretse, but will go to Mokwena [the Bakwena Reserve], or to Mongwaketse [the Bangwaketse Reserve], or to Mokgatla [the Bakgatla Reserve]. I shall have to hand over the work and the buildings to your child. All this will take time, but then I shall go.50
Then, choked with emotion, he cried, ‘Phatalalang!’ – ‘Disperse!’51 He was completely overwrought. But he had no choice but to accept the will of the
Kgotla. ‘A Chief with the Tribe against him,’ explained Seretse later to government officials, ‘cannot carry on as Chief unless he accepts the Tribe’s will. If he is adamant and will not bow to it, he must flee or be killed. This has always been the custom and, except for the killing, is still the custom.’52
Tshekedi was still formally Regent but his authority had been overthrown, and in any case he was making plans to leave the Reserve.53 And although Seretse had been acclaimed as Kgosi, he had not yet been installed. This left a vacuum in the leadership of the Bangwato, which worried the new District Commissioner of Serowe, Richard Sullivan. On his very first day, he received a letter from Peto Sekgoma:
The Tribe gave its verdict on Thursday last week, who by a majority which could only be estimated they declared their willingness to accept Seretse with his English wife as their Kgosi and Mohumagadi [Mother of the Nation]. It is our strong desire, Sir, that this matter should be brought to a speedy conclusion and in this connection we pray the Government to have Seretse given his birthright and installed Kgosi of the Bamangwato with the least possible delay.54
On 13 July, Sullivan was given a petition signed by nine senior headmen. It pointed out that they had spent eight months thinking over the question of whether or not to accept Seretse and his wife. But now they had given their opinion: ‘Let Government authorise Seretse to start duties of his heart-broken tribe.’55
The same message was sent to London, to the Secretary of State for Commonwealth Relations, by some of the many thousands of Bangwato working in the mines of South Africa. Grant Kgosi, who was a member of the Kimberley General Workers’ Union, sent a letter on behalf of ‘the Bangwato-Bakwena and Barotsi Brothers’. He stated that ‘The Crown Prince of the Ma-Mmangwato Seretse Khama, has done a very very good job by marrying an English Lady.’ This would be one way, he argued, of frustrating ‘the existing “Colour bar namely the South African Discrimination”’. As blacks working in South Africa, he and his friends knew at first hand the suffering caused by apartheid. For this reason, he said, ‘we welcome our Ruth as and/or to be our Queen’. They would like, he added, to see their Queen at Serowe.56
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