He had no doubts, he said, that the new Government would send Seretse home.43
18
Banished forever
The new Government was planning to change the policy: not to reverse it, however, but to make it even more brutal. Although there had been outward changes in the Government, two key players in the Seretse crisis at the CRO were still firmly in post: Sir Percivale Liesching and W. A. W. Clark, who carefully briefed their new Minister, Lord Ismay. They produced a brief document on Bangwato affairs, which drew heavily on discussions with Sir Evelyn Baring and advocated a new scheme: to keep Seretse and Ruth out of Bechuanaland on a permanent basis, creating a vacuum in the chieftaincy that should be filled by Rasebolai Kgamane, who was Tshekedi’s leading supporter and third in the line of succession. Tshekedi himself should be allowed back into the Bangwato Reserve, if at all possible.1
During the last months of his appointment as British High Commissioner in South Africa, Baring had worked tirelessly to convince influential people – including Sir John Le Rougetel, his successor – of the need to make Seretse’s exile permanent.2
In June 1951, Baring had reported to the CRO on discussions with J. G. N. Strauss, who had succeeded Smuts as the leader of the South Africa United Party. Strauss had argued, he said, that if the British Government did not take a very firm position on Seretse, anti-British feelings in South Africa would be even fiercer than in 1949. This was largely because of recent developments in the Gold Coast, which in February 1951 had become the first British colony in Africa to achieve self-government. Nkrumah’s party had swept to victory in the elections, forcing the British Government to release him from prison. ‘In a sweltering town on the Gold Coast [Accra]’, wrote Learie Constantine,
the doors of Fort James prison swung open, and the figure of a released African prisoner stood there, wearing a white shirt and green trousers and blinking in the sunlight. A roar of voices greeted him: ‘Nkruma! Saviour! Nkruma!’ The crowd swept the police aside and tossed the prisoner shoulder-high, riding him in triumph through the cheering streets.
‘Across the Gold Coast, nearly 4,000 miles from Cape Town,’ added Constantine, ‘falls the malevolent shadow of Dr Malan, Premier of South Africa. He does not approve of self-government for Africans under a Negro Prime Minister.’3
Baring’s case for banishing Seretse permanently also drew on the fact that legislation in South Africa now provided for maximum separation between the races. This meant that the recognition of Seretse as Chief, while married to Ruth, would be even more starkly at variance with South African racial policy than it had been in 1949.4Furthermore, insisted Baring, hostile reaction in Southern Rhodesia to the possibility of recognizing Seretse, ‘is to my mind certain and would endanger acceptance of new federation proposals’.5 These proposals were the British Government’s plan to create a Federation of Southern Rhodesia, Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland, which was bitterly opposed by Africans, who suspected – rightly, as it turned out – that it would increase their domination and persecution by whites. A powerful struggle was being played out in Africa at this time. ‘If African nationalism was on the march in Africa in the 1950s,’ one historian has acutely observed, ‘so too was white power. Kenya’s white settlers cast envious glances towards Rhodesia and South Africa.’6
Lord Ismay, the new Commonwealth Secretary, was easily persuaded that Rasebolai should be groomed as prospective Chief and that Seretse should be permanently excluded from the chieftainship. He was also keen to help Tshekedi, who had flown over to London to see him after the election. With Clark smoothing his way at the CRO, Tshekedi had been granted a meeting with the new Secretary of State and the two men got on well:
Ismay shook hands and sent everyone except Clark out of the room. He ushered Tshekedi to a sofa and sat down beside him. Within ten minutes agreement had been reached. Tshekedi would be given increasing freedom to look after his cattle in Bamangwato country and, if all went well, would be able to return as a private person.7
The Colonial Office also supported the plan. Baring had prepared the way for this by having a quiet but effective word in August with Alan Lennox-Boyd, who became the new Minister of State for the Colonies after the election.8
This new strategy on the Khamas was endorsed at a meeting of the Cabinet on 22 November 1951 and again on 27 November. But it was decided not to make an announcement for the time being, in case it had an adverse effect on plans for the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland. Opposition to the Federation from Africans in the region was already getting publicity and this would increase if there were also complaints from the Bangwato – that their wishes, too, were being ignored.9
The first stage of the new policy was implemented on 6 December in the House of Commons, when the Parliamentary Under-Secretary for Commonwealth Relations, John Foster, made a commitment to Tshekedi’s return to the Bangwato Reserve as a private citizen, as soon as possible.10 This was heard with astonishment – for the Observers’ reports, which had just been published, had stated clearly that the Bangwato did not want Tshekedi back.11 Foster also made a statement on Seretse: that nothing had changed.12 That day, Seretse issued a statement to the press. He expressed his disappointment that the Government were keeping to the ‘disastrous policy’ of the previous administration, which was directly contrary to the wishes of his people. The unrest in the Reserve, he warned, was bound to deteriorate further.13
Less than two weeks after Foster’s statement on Tshekedi, on 19 December, the Cabinet decided that the time had now come to act on Seretse – ‘So long as this was left in uncertainty, relations with the Government of South Africa would be made more difficult.’14 But they were worried about the effect on British public opinion, so the mandarins at the CRO embarked on a strategy to make the policy seem more palatable, by offering Seretse an appointment under a colonial government outside Africa. They finally agreed on Jamaica – a choice, explained Clark, that had been reached with the Colonial Office:
Although anxious to be helpful, the Colonial Office were compelled to point out that in East and Central Africa there might be social embarrassments, in West Africa imported Africans are resented by local Africans even more than Europeans (the cry is ‘Nigerian jobs for Nigerians’ etc.) and in some of the West Indian Colonies there are colour bars. Remote islands would sound too penal.15
Sir Thomas Lloyd at the Colonial Office was given the job of approaching the Governor of Jamaica, Sir Hugh Foot. ‘We fully recognize that at first sight it may seem to you a surprising and perhaps distasteful suggestion,’ he wrote apologetically, admitting that ‘there are formidable arguments against it.’16 The Governor was altogether taken aback. ‘The suggestion in your letter certainly seems odd to me,’ he replied to Lloyd. He was confident, though, that Seretse would be welcome in Jamaica.17
On 13 March 1952, Ismay produced a paper for Cabinet on Seretse. ‘His recognition as Chief is, in my opinion,’ he declared, ‘out of the question. It would outrage white opinion in South Africa and Southern Rhodesia.’18 Churchill consulted Lord Salisbury for his view. Salisbury’s opinion was important, because in less than two weeks he would be taking over the role of Secretary of State for Commonwealth Relations, when Ismay went to a new appointment at NATO. ‘I am personally in complete agreement with the action which [Ismay] now proposes,’ replied Salisbury to his Prime Minister. ‘Indeed, as you may remember,’ he added,
it is broadly speaking the course for which I pressed in the interview which he and I had with you before Christmas… I do not believe that the Bamang-wato Tribe will ever settle down until they have been told definitely that Seretse can never come back. Then they will look at other alternatives. That is Sir Evelyn Baring’s own view… We are bound to have this row sooner or later and if we leave it for another 3½ years (when the original five years’ grace given him by the late Government runs out), we are likely to have to take the same decision on the very eve of a General Election here.
At such a critical time
it would be an even greater problem. ‘By all means let us try and get the Jamaicans – or anyone else – to take him,’ he added. ‘But if they won’t, I am in favour of grasping the nettle now.’19
The Cabinet met on 18 March 1952 and approved Ismay’s plan. Then things moved swiftly and Seretse and Ruth were summoned to the Commonwealth Relations Office for a meeting on Monday 24 March with Lord Ismay. Lord Salisbury, who would be taking over Ismay’s appointment in a couple of days, was there too. They all sat round a conference table, recorded Ismay afterwards, so that the Khamas were able to take notes if they wished – and they did so, ‘copiously’. He started off the discussion with a few friendly observations, saying he had spent more time on the affairs of the Bamangwato than on any other, since taking up office. Then he told the Khamas that the Government had serious misgivings about the idea of Seretse returning to Bechuanaland. He had married the girl of his heart, he said, without taking into account the wishes of the Tribe:
I for one would not think of blaming him for this, and would very likely have done the same thing myself. But Rulers whether they were Kings of great Empires, or Chiefs of Tribes had not the same liberty of choice in their consorts as is enjoyed by their subjects… Quarrels and factions would continue.
He went on to give them some news that took them completely by surprise: that the Government of Jamaica had now offered Seretse ‘a most attractive appointment as an officer in the Jamaican administration’.
Then he announced that Seretse’s exclusion from political life was to be made permanent. The Khamas were staggered – and at this point Ruth showed signs of distress. Seretse was given two alternatives: to abdicate, or to compel the Government to make an Order-in-Council excluding him. He was asked for an answer in two days; an announcement would be made in Parliament the following day. ‘I begged him to be very discreet about the advisers he consulted,’ recorded Ismay. ‘They must be people on whose discretion he relied, and they must also be people who had Seretse’s own interests at heart and were not merely out to make mischief.’ In that case, replied Seretse with a bitter laugh, he had better not consult any Members of Parliament.
The whole meeting had taken just over half an hour. ‘It had been quite friendly and unstrained,’ noted Ismay. ‘Neither of them by look or word gave any clue as to what their decision was likely to be. Seretse would make a good poker player.’ Once these notes had been typed up, he added by hand, ‘So would his wife.’20
Seretse and Ruth went home, stunned. By now they had moved out of central London into a rented house in the suburban village of Chipstead, in Surrey. The village was surrounded by open country, which helped to ease Seretse’s and Naledi’s homesickness for the vast spaces of Bechuanaland. There, for two days, the family discussed Ismay’s extraordinary proposal.
On Wednesday 26 March, at 3 p.m., Seretse and Ruth were back at the CRO to give their answer. Ismay had now been succeeded by Salisbury.21 At the first meeting, Ismay had done the talking and Salisbury was quiet; at this one, it was the other way round. Rath-creedan, Seretse’s lawyer, and Clark were also present. Seretse began by saying he could never desert his people. Then he said that he knew perfectly well that the reason for his exile was intervention by South Africa. He dealt with the points that Ismay had made in the previous meeting, one by one. He did not, he said, claim any particular ability. But because of his birth and his people’s affection for the hereditary succession, he would be able to put an end to all the difficulties in the Reserve if he were allowed to return. He asked for a trial period. The Jamaican post was no solution – if the Government was really sincere, why did it not offer him a similar post in Bechuanaland, preferably in the Bangwato Reserve? He warned that if the Government in the UK appeased the Union on a matter like this, white South Africans would be encouraged in their repressive policies and race relations would deteriorate even more quickly.
He then said that, as he had indicated on a number of occasions, he was prepared to renounce his claim to the chieftainship, so long as he was able to take part in the political life of the tribe. This was out of the question, replied Salisbury quickly. But here Lord Ismay intervened – he had not, he said, realized that Mr Khama had ever considered renouncing his claim to the chieftainship. If this were the case, then surely the situation was rather different and ought to be considered. But this was an avenue that Salisbury did not want to go down. He interrupted to say that they had had a very long discussion and that it would be a good idea to adjourn for fifteen minutes or so, to review its course.
When the meeting resumed, Ismay kept silent. Salisbury informed Seretse that his suggestion of renunciation, while retaining his political liberty in the Reserve, was unacceptable. They were therefore making the refusal to recognize him as Chief permanent and final.22
Seretse and Ruth walked out of the office, in a state of shock. ‘He came home,’ said Ruth, ‘and buried his face in his hands and said, “To think that I can never go home again. Never, ever”.’23 He gave a press conference the next day. The offer of a job in Jamaica, he said, meant that the Government was trying to placate South Africa, even if it meant alienating thousands of Africans. He had always believed, he added, that in Britain and elsewhere in the Commonwealth it was ‘no crime to marry anyone you love’.24 Seretse took the news, said Ruth, ‘like the man he is. You know, Seretse’s ability to take things, good or bad, with complete equanimity is one of the things I love about him. He just refuses to be cast down.’25
The Secretary of State’s announcement about Seretse was given in the Serowe Kgotla at 5.30 in the evening by Colonel Beetham. About 1,000 people listened silently. ‘The decision of which I have just told you’, warned Beetham, ‘is absolutely final.’ The Tribe would have to choose a new Kgosi, he said, but until then the District Commissioner would continue as Native Authority. At this point there was angry murmuring and people stood up, as if to go; some of them walked out of the Kgotla.26 One man pointed his switch at Beetham and shouted, ‘You go. I will see you.’ He was supported by two young men, who were both ‘storeboys’ for European stores, who shouted, ‘What beer does he drink? Marete [balls].’ The ‘distinct rumbling heard then, and the absence of the Pula Salute usually accorded to the Resident Commissioner,’ noted one man who was there, ‘were sure signs of discontent.’ It was only because Keaboka appealed to the people to sit down, he believed, that they did not leave the Resident Commissioner alone in the Kgotla.27
On the same evening, meetings were held at Mahalapye and Palapye.28 The meeting at the Mahalapye kgotla was addressed by Dennis Atkins, a local official, and it ended in disorder. When Atkins gave Manyaphiri Ikitseng some copies of the Commonwealth Secretary’s address to Parliament in London, one man stood up and said that he should not accept them; he repeated this three times. Another man stood up, saying the same; and then the entire meeting stood up and said the papers should be handed back. Atkins left. As he went, the papers were thrown in through the window of his car. Then, as Atkins started to drive off, another man stood up and shouted, ‘Hold the DC’s car! Do not let him get away, ask him where he obtained the papers. They are not from England.’ Some men picked up their stools and shouted that if Tshekedi were to come back, there would be trouble – and accused the Europeans of wanting to take their country. At this moment, Manyaphiri’s wife – who was in her fifties and was regarded as ‘tough’, the equal of any man29 – approached the Kgotla with about 100 women, all shouting. She said that Atkins was lucky to have left before she arrived, as she would have taken him from the car and thrashed him. Scenes of fury and despair were repeated in every village that Atkins visited over the next few days. Many of the Rametsana, too, regarded it as a terrible injustice.30 It was a disastrous time for the Bangwato, made even harder to bear by a severe shortage of water: the dam in the reserve was dry and the cattle were gasping from thirst.31
The decision was given to the Commons in London at the same time as the announcement in Serowe. It was heard with dism
ay and Anthony Wedgwood Benn made an application for an emergency debate, which was successful. Seretse Khama was in the Visitors’ Gallery. ‘A ray of sunshine’, reported Time magazine, ‘reached down through Britain’s gloomy House of Commons… and glanced brightly off a pale gold wedding ring on the hand of a young Negro.’ It was a fortuitous spotlighting, went on the article, of the matter then before the House: ‘under sharp debate on the floor was the political consequence of the gleaming wedding ring’.32
‘Tonight in Serowe,’ said Wedgwood Benn, opening the debate, ‘feelings would not be dissimilar from the feeling here in 1936 at the time of the abdication of King Edward VIII.’ The Government had argued that Seretse had demonstrated his ‘total incapacity’ for any office – but now they were told the Government hoped he would have a successful career in Jamaica. They knew, he argued, that if Seretse were to set foot in Africa again he would be seen as a national hero, so they wanted to send him to another, distant, part of the world. He said Africa was facing a choice: either to go the way of apartheid, or towards cooperation. He asked:
What effect is this decision going to have on Prime Minister Nkrumah on the Gold Coast and on Nigeria, Tanganyika and even as far north as the Sudan?
What effect would it have on the African delegation which was coming to London next month to discuss Central African Federation?33
Wedgwood Benn was speaking from a deeply felt conviction. He had come across the colour bar and racial inequality in southern Africa in 1944, as an RAF officer in Southern Rhodesia, and had been shocked and disgusted by it.34
The Government’s action on Seretse was a ‘disgraceful way to introduce the principle of the colour bar,’ said Fenner Brockway. It was helping the South African Government at the very moment when the liberal element in the Union was waging war on the issue. ‘Why Jamaica?’ wondered Hynd, a Labour MP, drily. ‘Is there no suitable opening at St Helena?’ Gordon Walker, too, condemned the government’s decision. ‘It is calculated,’ he said, ‘to create the worst possible impression in the tribe, and to appear to them to be a deliberate provocation of their expressed views.’35 When Lord Salisbury heard about Gordon Walker’s intervention, he seethed with anger and later wrote:
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