Colour Bar

by Susan Williams

  Seretse went on to Rasebolai’s house in the centre of the village, where the welcome, reported the Sunday Times, ‘was fantastic. The crowd surged and swayed, then swarmed around Seretse, stretching out their hands to touch him, pat him, caress him. It was sheer joy, almost untouched by political feeling.’11 Seretse went to the Kgotla, where 2,000 people had collected – but neither he nor the District Commissioner could be heard above the applause. The welcome he was given at Serowe exceeded even the reception in Francistown on the previous evening. Eventually Rasebolai took Seretse back to his house and Allison addressed the crowd from the veranda. Then everyone dispersed, in the best of spirits.12

  Ever since Life’s photographer, Margaret Bourke-White, had come to Serowe in 1950, the magazine had taken a keen interest in the story of Seretse and Ruth’s exile. They sent a correspondent to cover the happy ending – Seretse’s return. The fact that Seretse was returning as a private citizen, not as Kgosi, he reported, was a fine distinction that seemed to be lost on the Bangwato. He was greeted with the traditional cries of welcome – ‘Pula, Pula’ – and then, added Life, ‘before their eyes it rained’. It was not even just a drizzle, but a heavy storm. When Seretse reached the tribal offices, recorded a local official,‘thunder and lightning rent the air and the rain came down in torrents’.13 The Bulawayo Chronicle reported that

  The first crash of thunder split the air. Flashes of lightning followed each other and clouds erupted over the Bamangwato Reserve.

  ‘Seretse’s home and it’s raining,’ screamed the mob. ‘Seretse has brought the pula.’14

  Seretse still had to make a public statement about his renunciation of the kingship. On 12 October, he, Rasebolai and Tshekedi conferred with Allison and they agreed that although plans had been made for a Kgotla in three days’ time, it should be delayed until Thursday 18 October, to allow time for the excitement to subside – ‘with special reference’, wrote the Resident Commissioner anxiously to London, ‘to the large numbers of women who were already a problem in Serowe’. The delay would also give Seretse an opportunity for informal conversation with the people of Serowe, to prepare them for the Kgotla. Moreover, said Wray,

  Seretse’s general behaviour and attitude towards Government officers has been exemplary… I am now much more hopeful that the outcome of the Kgotla and subsequent tour will be completely successful than I was before it was possible to gauge his reactions to a tumultuous welcome by his own people. So far he has been extremely level-headed and helpful.

  Wray reported on the security measures that had been put in place to cope with any sudden and unexpected outbreak of violence at Serowe, such as ‘anti-European riots’. It had been arranged with the Witwatersrand Native Labour Association, the agency which sent Bangwato men to the mines in South Africa, that an aeroplane would be standing by at Francistown. If there was a sudden emergency, extra security forces could be flown immediately to the Serowe airstrip.15

  Thanksgiving services were held at the London Missionary Society Church in the centre of Serowe. Seretse attended one of these services and made a speech to the congregation, expressing his joy at returning home again. The light streamed through the arcs of the church windows into the dark, cool interior, lighting up the figure of the man whom everyone had been waiting for.16

  The day came for the Kgotla in Serowe, at which Seretse would publicly renounce the kingship and explain his reasons. There was a vast assembly: 5,000–6,000 people, including women. Despite the October heat, many of the men were wrapped in their old army greatcoats. In front of them sat Seretse, Tshekedi and Rasebolai, with Seretse in the middle; all three men wore dark suits, reflecting the solemnity of the occasion.17 Prayers were said and then, just after nine o’clock, Rasebolai opened the Kgotla. He ordered a large number of women to go to the back, and they obeyed. Keaboka was the first to speak. He described his immense pleasure at seeing Seretse, Tshekedi and Rasebolai together and said that he and others looked to ‘the big three’ to guide them.18 It was Keaboka’s full, public support right from the start, believed Allison, that assured the success of the Kgotla.19

  A deep silence fell when Seretse rose to speak. He said that he was giving up the kingship for the sake of tribal unity. ‘If I can cooperate with my elders,’ he told the assembly, ‘so can you, who are their juniors.’20 He reminded them that the idea of his living in the Reserve as a private citizen was not new – it had been raised in 1950 and when the delegation had gone to the UK in 1952, they had proposed this to the Government on behalf of the people. He would assist Rasebolai with his tribal duties. Kingship was over: it would be replaced by Councils, under Rasebolai as Chairman. Either he or Tshekedi, or both of them, would probably be elected. This would be a new form of Government, he explained, which would allow the Bangwato, for the first time in their history, to take part. Rule by one man would now be over. In the past, people had complained of unfairness and oppression, but a Council would end this. It would allow everyone in the Reserve to take part – to know what was happening, to correct wrongs and to contribute to the common good. ‘You should not be worried,’ he assured his listeners, ‘for such a system means you will be able to take part.’ He would not have renounced the kingship, he assured them, ‘if it was not the greatest step towards advancement of the tribe’.21

  He had heard that when he stopped speaking he was to be invested with a lion skin and declared Kgosi – but, he said, he did not have two tongues like a snake.22 Seretse spoke ‘firmly, resolutely and convincingly’, reported Allison, returning at frequent intervals to his main theme – peace, progress, welfare and unity, and the absolute necessity of setting aside the old divisions and hatreds.23 He emphasized that political development in the Bangwato Reserve was to be on modern lines. He finished his speech to the sound of three long, deep pulas.

  Then Tshekedi spoke, underlining his support for the Council. He traced the history of the Bechuanaland Protectorate under the protection of the British Crown, which had been accepted by the diKgosi. There was no need to worry about not having a Kgosi, he said, because many countries did not. In any case, he said,

  Seretse is still the son of our Chief. We still give him the respect due to a Chief and we will always in our hearts regard him as Chief, but now Rasebolai is the head of the Tribe and Seretse will help him. In this way he is not lost and his advice and help will always be available to us.24

  He reassured the Bangwato that Seretse would rule them with Rasebolai, through the Council. He spoke with great force, almost as if the Council had already been set up. He added that after his four years’ absence from the Kgotla, he would now be dealing with tribal affairs.25

  The last ‘nail in the coffin of any possible non-acceptance’, reported Allison, was driven home by Oabona Nthobatsang, who was a powerful orator and had been a leading supporter of Seretse. He said that he had little to say except to offer his thanks. He was grateful to God that the sons of Khama were now together and he prayed they might be as united as their diKgosi. And now, he said, it would be possible to pursue the mineral development of Bechuanaland: ‘We refused to give any concessions in the absence of Seretse. Now he is back and this can be considered again.’

  Rasebolai stood up. Everyone who had contributed to the discussion so far, he commented, had spoken for the same thing. He asked if anyone wished to speak differently. No one answered and there was a ‘sudden almost fierce murmur from the front of the crowd – “No, these men have said all our words.”’26 There was a unanimous acceptance of Seretse’s renunciation.

  Then Rasebolai said that, as was customary, he would ask the visiting dikgosi to speak. Kgosi Molefi spoke first, ‘forcefully, picturesquely and amusingly, greeting the [Bangwato] on behalf of the Bakgatla, expressing his joy at seeing the sons of Khama together’. He said that the Bangwato had been a proud people and then became a laughing stock – but, he added jokingly, ‘Now the Bakgatla had seen Seretse, they were finished.’ Bathoen spoke next and likened the Bangwato to an
iron pot with three legs:

  The three children of Khama were the three legs of the pot. In the pot food was boiled, and they were the food in the pot. If there was unity in the home, there would be unity in the Tribe. The troubles of the past should be left. Government made every effort to help the Tribe. The latter should replace evil with good, and Government should regard them with trust and confidence and forgive them.

  Then it was the turn of Kgosi Mokgosi of the Balete, Seretse’s good friend. He said he agreed with everything that had been said and he emphasized Bathoen’s call for deeds as well as words: ‘But deeds will show. Let us be careful of what we say. Seretse and Tshekedi have come to an agreement and we should now help.’27 If the Bangwato started Councils, he added, then the Balete might decide to copy them. But he advised the Bangwato that if they were to bring in this new system, they should do it properly. He said he had visited countries where the system worked well. Finally he told the assembly that he regarded the diKgosi as one in three and three in one, carrying on the work of the Bangwato in thought and deed.28

  Allison closed the Kgotla, at Rasebolai’s request. His speech was listened to in complete silence, as it was translated into Setswana. He appealed to the Tribe to make Seretse’s decision a success. ‘Any angry words and unpleasantness are an insult to him,’ he said, ‘because they are an insult to what he has done.’29

  The Kgotla was ‘absolutely quiet and respectful’, reported Allison to headquarters.30 The addresses had been long, but the vast crowd had listened intently to every word. Their only reaction, as each speaker ended his address, was a solemn shout of ‘Pula’. Seretse had been ‘clearly the dominating personality at the Kgotla and he spoke forcefully and authoritatively’.31 The meeting broke up in very good spirits and the ‘Big Three’ went across to Rasebolai’s house for a short press conference. Allison noticed that respect for Rasebolai as the Kgotla came to an end was very obvious – for Rasebolai was seen to have brought back Seretse.32

  ‘The people were happy to see me back,’ wrote Seretse to John Hatch, ‘but the question of my renunciation of the chieftainship was, as you can expect, reluctantly accepted.’ There was a fear, he explained, that if they insisted on installing him as Chief and leader of the Tribe, in the place of the Native Authority, ‘your British Government would send me packing’.33 But despite the disappointment of not being able to call Seretse their Kgosi, there was great happiness and a sense of real hope for the future. Now that Seretse was back, Peto Sekgoma told the press, negotiations with Anglo-American would soon reach a conclusion. ‘We are hopeful’, he said, ‘that this will eventually bring about complete economic independence for the territory and remove for all time the threat of incorporation by the Union.’ But in any case, that threat now appeared to have slipped away. When the Star asked Tshekedi, ‘What about incorporation?’ he simply answered, ‘I think we can forget about that.’34

  The ‘Big Three’ then travelled around the Bangwato Reserve. On 22 October a Kgotla at Sefhare was attended by about 1,800 people. Next day, there was an Assembly of between 500 and 600 people in Palapye. On the night before the Palapye Kgotla, Seretse had a nosebleed and a temperature; and at the meeting itself, he felt unwell. It was clear that the tour would have to be interrupted for a few days, to allow him time to recover. It was no wonder he felt weak, thought Wray, given the intense heat, the travelling and the general strain of his ‘continuously good performances’.35

  Everywhere the meetings were a great success. Only at Sebinas was there any departure from the usual pattern. Despite a warm speech of welcome, followed by two other speakers who made a point of praising Tshekedi for bringing Seretse back, one young man, speaking forcefully – and despite the protests of the other men – complained that he had heard enough about Tshekedi, who had oppressed them too much in the past. Another speaker said that while he welcomed the settlement, talk of gratitude to Tshekedi would only keep the dispute alive. But the Kgotla ended well. When Rasebolai asked if anybody wished to speak against the settlement, there was an almost unanimous murmur that there was no disagreement.36

  When Seretse and Rasebolai went to Mahalapye, they stopped off to see the local official, Winstanley, and stayed for tea. When the housemaid heard that Seretse was there, she immediately rushed out to the veranda, ‘and kneeling humbly and reverently before Seretse greeted him with deep emotion. He responded with exquisite courtesy and shook her proffered hand.’ It was ‘immediately obvious to me,’ commented Winstanley, ‘why the Bamangwato adored him.’37

  Rasebolai and Seretse were getting on very well together. Wray was aware, though, that these first weeks back in Bechuanaland were a terrible strain for Seretse. He was exhausted – ‘His right hand has been wrung by so many people that it is now rather sore.’ He had been searching for a house for his family and eventually found a sprawling, iron-roofed bungalow in the middle of the village. He had originally thought that he should live outside Serowe, to avoid embarrassing Rasebolai, but they were getting on so well that this would clearly not be a problem. There was no electricity or gas in the house, but Seretse had a paraffin-operated refrigerator installed and there was a coal range; tapped water was pumped from a borehole.38

  Seretse interrupted his tour of the Reserve when Ruth and the children arrived, three weeks after himself. The Daily Mail in London had made much of the difficulties facing Ruth, as she prepared to leave London:

  These are the two worlds of Ruth Khama. She leaves a typical London home with accepted European amenities: electricity, telephone, radio.

  She goes to a country of thatched huts. To a country without power. To a country without radio. To a country separated from London by thousands of miles… and thousands of years.39

  But the lack of amenities did not bother Ruth. ‘I am looking forward to returning to Bechuanaland which I regard as my home,’ she told the Daily Mirror.40 The only thing that worried her, she said, was education – both Tshekedi and Seretse had gone to Lovedale and Fort Hare, but she and Seretse were prohibited immigrants in South Africa. Then she explained her support for Seretse’s renunciation of the chieftainship. In London, she said, Seretse could do nothing for his people; but in Bechuanaland, even as a private citizen, he could do a lot. And there was a lot that needed to be done, because the lives of the Bangwato had declined: ‘Their sole source of income, cattle, has been allowed to run down… Well, now the Bamangwatos have two heads, Tshekedi and Seretse, two of the wisest best-educated heads in Africa.’

  She also felt there was ‘a big part, for me, as a woman, to play’ with Seretse’s help, she hoped to do something to improve women’s lives. When she had lived in Serowe, she said, she had realized how backward the country was in terms of welfare and health – and that the women led ‘a purdah-like existence’; she remembered that scores of women had come every day to talk about their troubles. ‘Of course,’ she added, ‘I was the Chief’s wife then. It may make a difference now. But I doubt it.’ She was longing to return: the greeting of the Bangwato, she said, ‘is already music in my ears… Pula, Pula, they say to you.’41

  Preparations for Ruth’s return with Jackie and Ian had been causing headaches for the CRO, because their plane would need to land in Salisbury. The family would offend against the colour bar that dominated Southern Rhodesia and they were hated by most of the white community in the country. What should they do, worried Sykes, a CRO official, if the plane carrying Ruth and her family arrived in Salisbury too late to fly on to Bechuanaland the same evening? ‘I feel we can hardly expect two little children’, he objected, ‘to bounce about in the back of a car during an all night journey in the way that would have been tolerable for Seretse.’42 He tried to make a reservation for Ruth and the children at the Meikles Hotel, the premier hotel in Salisbury, but the hotel refused. After long discussions, the Meikles reluctantly agreed – ‘but only on our plea’, reported Sykes in hot indignation, ‘that children could not be stranded overnight’.43 The management said that Mrs
Khama would have to take her meals in the bedroom with the children; she might be glad to do this, thought Sykes protectively, to avoid ‘ill-mannered stares in the dining-room’.44 To make the family as comfortable as possible and to avoid any embarrassment, he reserved a sitting room for them, where meals could be served.45

  Sykes and Miss Emery referred respectfully to Ruth as ‘Mrs Khama’ in their correspondence with each other. This was in marked contrast with the attitudes towards ‘Ruth’ of CRO officials in 1950, when she had been banished from Bechuanaland. The story of the Khamas was now being seen through a different lens. Alan Lennox-Boyd, the Colonial Secretary – who had advocated the permanent exclusion of Seretse in 1951 – now enclosed a note of good wishes for Mrs Khama with a letter to Lord Home. If appropriate, he said, he would be most grateful if the note could be passed on to Mrs Khama before she left London. ‘I congratulate you so much on this decision,’ he told Home.46

  With her two children clinging tightly to her skirt, Ruth arrived at Salisbury airport at lunchtime on 31 October and was met by the District Officer of Mafikeng, who had been at Oxford with Seretse. The stay at the Meikles Hotel had been so carefully planned that it went smoothly, and early the next morning the family flew on to Bechuanaland in a chartered light plane. When they arrived at the Serowe airstrip, Seretse helped Ruth down over the plane’s wing and then embraced Jackie and Ian, overjoyed to bring them home. Allison, in his role as District Commissioner, officially welcomed Ruth. But Mrs Allison was not present, nor were any other European women. When Miss Emery heard about this, she was cross – there was no need for an enormous reception committee, she thought, but ‘it would have been a pleasant gesture, if one European lady, Mrs Allison, if possible could have been there’.47 Clearly, the European community did not want Ruth back in Serowe.