Guests from all over the world had arrived to share in the celebrations, including several British Government ministers. Many visitors experienced first-hand the difficulties of Botswana’s dependence on South Africa, because the only straightforward route to Gaborone was via Jan Smuts Airport at Johannesburg, which some delegates, including those from Ethiopia, wanted to avoid. The best alternative was a long and circuitous journey: by aircraft to Lusaka, train to Livingstone, then by Bechuanaland National Airways from Livingstone, stopping overnight at Kasane and not arriving until the next day at Gaborone.3 A compromise was organized: a waiting area and overnight accommodation were made available at the in-transit area of Jan Smuts, so that Botswana’s guests would not have to enter South Africa officially.
In the stadium in Gaborone, 5,000 people were waiting for the moment when their country would become Botswana. Then Seretse arrived with Ruth, who was wearing a white dress with thin, black stripes, a white fur jacket and opera-length white gloves. The 8-year-old twins, Tshekedi and Anthony, wrestled under a blanket as they waited with 16-year-old Jacqueline and Ian, now 13.4
Nobody minded the dust as they waved banners and little flags in great excitement, singing and dancing. Bechuanaland was about to become the 38th independent state in Africa. The 39th would be Basutoland, which became Lesotho a few days after the Independence of Botswana; two years later, the last of the High Commission Territories – Swaziland – became independent. After this, Britain would no longer have any colonial responsibilities on the African continent, apart from Rhodesia.
In the hour leading up to midnight, the crowd was entertained by a march of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, dressed in kilts and carrying bagpipes. They were members of the force guarding Britain’s Freedom Radio near Francistown, which was beamed to Rhodesia by the British Government as one strand of its various – but largely ineffective – measures to combat Ian Smith’s UDI. Then a group of San performed dances celebrating a successful hunt; this was followed by dances and singing, including a prayer for rain.
The ceremony of transferring power from Britain to the people of Botswana was modelled on the formula that had quickly become established as, one by one, Britain’s colonies had achieved their independence. In solemn silence and great dignity, Seretse arose; now 45 years old, the lanky figure of his younger years had become more sturdy and he looked very much a statesman. Then, ten minutes before midnight, a prayer was given and the lights of the stadium were put off. Seretse now stood in the arena, facing the grandstand, dressed simply in a dark suit; the Queen’s Commissioner was on his right, wearing a starched white uniform and white helmet, plumed with ostrich feathers. In the darkness behind them, a detachment of police was drawn up in two lines, with fixed bayonets. The band played the opening bars of ‘God Save the Queen’ and the Union Jack – which had flown in Bechuanaland for eighty-one years – was finally lowered down a tall, thin pole.
Then a spotlight was focused on an adjoining white pole. In complete silence, the band started to play the new Botswana national anthem, Fatshe leno la rona – ‘Blessed be this noble land’. Very slowly, the Botswana flag was run up. The flag has a thick strip of blue at the top, representing the sky; a thick strip of blue at the bottom, representing water; a black strip in the centre is bordered by two white strips, representing racial harmony. The motif of black and white stripes was taken from the zebra – an animal that, out of all the wild animals of the country, was not the totem of any particular section of the population. It was seen to represent the non-racial, inclusive, character of the new nation. Two zebras – with ‘Pula’ inscribed underneath – appeared in the new coat of arms; it was also agreed that the inter-racial sporting teams which would go abroad to represent Botswana would be known as the ‘Zebras’.5
Seretse stood rigidly to attention, by the flagpole, in front of his people. For a few moments, the flag remained stuck, caught in the gusts of sand and wind. Then, suddenly, it streamed out into the wind of the storm – to the jubilation of the crowd and shouts of ‘Pula!’ At that moment, drops of rain were felt among the sand blowing through the air. After the searing drought, the rain had come – and many people could hardly believe their eyes. This was the start of several days of rain. The dam near Gaborone filled up to overflowing with badly needed water and the whole country was awash. At the airport, some children took their shoes off to wade through the wet, in order to reach their plane.6 ‘The weather gave its independence blessing with copious rains, after several years of drought,’ reported the British High Commissioner to London.7
In Gaborone next day, at a ceremony in front of the newly built National Assembly building, Princess Marina formally handed over the Constitutional Instruments. The President took the oath of office, while Ruth stood proudly behind him, and Ketumile Masire was sworn in as Vice-President. This was followed by a series of celebrations: a combined church service, then a police parade and sporting events. Princess Marina opened a hospital named after her and visited a number of exhibitions and schools, where she was given a tumultuous welcome; she endeared herself to everyone by her lack of formality and her genuine interest in everything she saw.
The lowering of the British flag – and the raising of the Botswana flag – was repeated in towns and villages all over Botswana at midnight, so that everybody could participate. Everywhere, too, celebrations followed, such as dances, sports sessions and feasts of roast meat. Throughout the week, reported the Mafeking Mail – referring both to the weather and to the celebrations – ‘the wind of change kept up a nice steady breeze’.8
One of the guests at the official celebrations, John Stonehouse, who had attended in his role as Under-Secretary of State for the Colonies, described them as ‘Spartan’.9 It was true that they were quieter and less lavish than the independence celebrations in Kenya or other former colonies. But it would have been more accurate to describe them as ‘modest’ – appropriate to the difficulties faced by an impoverished country. This style was adopted as a deliberate strategy by the new Government. Only the President travelled first class – the rest went by economy. This frequently caused confusion in host countries, as when Vice-President Masire and the Minister of Agriculture flew to Uganda in 1968. ‘We flew by BOAC to Entebbe,’ recorded an official who was travelling with them in economy class –
and just before we landed were instructed over the loudspeaker to remain seated when we landed because important Ugandan officials were coming on board. We did as instructed and I noticed much activity going on in the first class.
The official asked one of the stewards what was happening and was told they were looking for the dignitaries from Botswana – and he said they were sitting next to him. The Ugandans hauled them off the plane to a red carpet, and a lavish champagne reception in the VIP lounge. ‘They were amazed’, recorded the official, ‘that Botswana Ministers should travel economy class.’ In any case, he added, the reception did not last long, because neither Masire nor the Minister of Agriculture touched alcohol.10 Even when he had become President, Seretse assumed none of the more pompous trappings that often accompany high office. He frequently strolled out of the office of the president to the nearby shops to buy a detective story, stopping for a chat about the latest books.11
In Francistown, the novelist Bessie Head – a refugee from South Africa who had adopted Botswana as her home – reflected on the changes brought by Independence:
‘It is all right,’ I thought. ‘The whole world seems topsy-turvy but there is something here in the country that is good. Perhaps it is a weird kind of people who pull against the current; unprovokable; ever reasonable. Perhaps it is the rags and tatters of poverty that are worn with an upright posture and pathetic dignity. Whatever it is I say it is good because you feel it in your heart as peace.’12
Botswana had real advantages when it became independent, especially in relation to the unity of the people. Although there were eight principal nations, all of them spoke basically the same language, Setswa
na, and had a similar cultural background and system of government. In addition, the elected leaders of the country had a very clear idea of where their hopes lay for the country – transforming Botswana into an economically viable state, and creating a unified nation based on the ideals of non-racialism.
The Government demonstrated a firm commitment to democracy. Seretse made himself dispensable, unlike many other African leaders, such as Nkrumah in Ghana, who had proclaimed himself President for life in 1964, banning all opposition parties. ‘Mr Khama, in discussing other African countries,’ observed an American diplomat who visited Seretse for talks, ‘commented that there were a considerable number of countries in Africa which possessed able rulers at the moment, but which appeared to have nobody other than one top man to hold the country together should the one man be removed from the scene.’ In this regard, Seretse had told him, Bechuanaland was fortunate: ‘“If I were to go” (at which point Mrs Khama choked on her breakfast coffee) “Masire would immediately step into my place.”
He said that both Mr Masire and B. C. Thema, the Minister of Education, were extremely able and popular.’13 The new leaders were determined to learn from the failures of other African countries. As far as they were concerned, ideology was a luxury and they had to be pragmatic – what mattered was not something on the political Left or the Right, but what was good for Botswana.14
But economically, circumstances were far from propitious. ‘Few Independence ceremonies,’ noted one commentator, ‘may have taken place under dustier, bleaker economic circumstances.’15 Botswana was listed by the United Nations as one of the world’s ten poorest nations and the least developed nation in Africa. ‘Its problems are so great,’ observed The Times on the day of independence, ‘that its debut in the international world amounts to a striking act of faith that untrammelled self-rule is the supreme good.’16 After several years of drought, two-thirds of the population were on famine relief from the World Food Programme, and 200,000 head of cattle were on emergency maize feeding.17 Botswana’s Transitional Plan of Social and Economic Development, which was dated on Independence Day, stated that:
Botswana is now experiencing the most calamitous drought in living memory. Its end is not in sight. No one yet knows how many cattle have died, but it is reliably estimated that the national herd has been reduced by over one-third and that the losses in some areas have exceeded 50 per cent. More particularly, a whole year’s crop of calves has been lost.18
By 1964, two out of every three active male wage labourers were absent in South Africa at any given time, working in the mines and on farms. Not only did they earn very little to bring home, but their labour was contributing to the economic strength of South Africa and British-controlled business – not to their own country.19 There was widespread ill health in Botswana, with people suffering from high infant death and maternal death, as well as a range of preventable diseases, including tuberculosis, malaria and tapeworm. Sanitation and water provision were hopelessly inadequate, as was medical care. There was no public health laboratory for routine medical investigation, so that even a test smear for malaria had to be sent to Johannesburg.20
A massive disadvantage for the new nation was the lack of people qualified to work in the civil service and other professions; this problem had been caused by the shortage of educational facilities and the unwillingness of whites in senior positions to train African juniors.21 At the most, there were fewer than thirty university graduates among the black population.22 As Margaret Nasha, who later became a Government Minister, observed:
The situation with education and infrastructure illustrates the extent to which the colonial government neglected the Bechuanaland Protectorate, as it was then called. In the whole country there were very few secondary schools, mostly run by missions. There were very few primary schools. There was about twelve kilometres [seven and half miles] of tarred road… Primary health care and public health education were virtually nil.23
Seretse appealed to the Europeans in the civil service to stay on after Independence, but most of them decided to leave.24 A colonial official in Molepolole was one of many who accepted the offer of ‘compensation’ and took his family back to the UK. ‘Yes, considerations about our future weigh heavily on all of us at the moment,’ he wrote to his mother, ‘and it’s inevitable that within a few minutes of a meeting between two Government servants, one of them will ask, “Are you going or staying?”’25 He said he was worried about ‘the uncertainty which hangs over the whole African continent as far as the white man is concerned’.26
But despite these – seemingly insuperable – obstacles, Botswana was dramatically and remarkably transformed after Independence. In the middle of 1966, Seretse introduced Food for Work programmes, which aimed not simply at saving people from famine but also – in the spirit of the self-help projects initiated by Khama III and Tshekedi – at creating a spirit of service for the good of the country, especially in water and soil conservation projects. These efforts were helped by the return of rains in the months after Independence.
Then, just eight months after Independence, it was announced that a major kimberlite ‘pipe’ had been discovered at Orapa. This became the world’s biggest diamond mine and two others were opened; Botswana was the largest producer in the world by the 1980s. It did not squander this resource, however, but held steadily to its strategy of restraint. It managed the discovery of diamonds so well that between Independence and the start of the next century, Botswana had the fastest average economic growth rate in the world, at about 9 per cent each year. It channelled these resources into services for the people, which were developed throughout the country for the benefit of everybody, almost from scratch.
Botswana soon had a better level of education and literacy than anywhere else in sub-Saharan Africa, with the exception of some parts of South Africa. The same was true of health service provision.27 Without qualification, Botswana was far better off as an independent nation than it had ever been under colonial rule.
Many people in Botswana thought that the nation had benefited from the fact that diamonds were not discovered until after Independence. ‘In a way,’ reflected Margaret Nasha, ‘we may have been lucky. I’ve always said that if some of the country’s rich mineral deposits had been discovered during the colonial period it would have led to bloodshed, people having to fight for Independence because there is something in their land the colonial Government wants to retain.’ But the nation’s poverty had saved them from foreign greed:
That’s why other countries in Africa have had to fight so hard and lost so many lives for independence. On the other hand, the British government thought we had nothing worth fighting for, so it was through a process of negotiation that we made a peaceful transition to independence.
As I said, very little was done by the British during their period of rule in Botswana. They did not even build an administrative capital and were content to run the affairs of the country from South Africa.28
An additional challenge to Botswana in 1966 was that – with the sole exception of newly independent Zambia – it was smack in the middle of hostile, white-ruled, racist regimes: South Africa, Rhodesia and South West Africa. Even worse, it was dependent on South Africa for its survival. Because its main communication with the outside world was the railway running from Rhodesia to the Cape, every single mouthful of staple food consumed in Botswana during the drought, except meat, had to be imported on this railway.29 Many experts had doubted whether Botswana could survive as a separate nation; at the very least, they expected it to become a puppet of South Africa and to function as a Bantustan. Even within Botswana’s own boundaries, there were whites who opposed constitutional progress and tried to foment secessionist movements.30 In effect, observed a report produced in Washington, Botswana was
an enclave in the ‘White redoubt’ of southern Africa, surrounded as it is by South Africa, Rhodesia and South West Africa. Its economy is wholly integrated with that of its white-governed neig
hbours. Therefore, the geographical and economic facts of life make it impossible for the territory to insulate itself from the crises affecting its neighbours.
‘Our interest,’ added the report, ‘is in helping him [Seretse] to develop a more viable model of working multi-racialism in a part of the continent where the pattern is otherwise.’31
Seretse and his Government were determined to develop such a model, steering a tightrope political course. The nation quickly denounced apartheid and offered sanctuary to refugees from South Africa and Rhodesia, even though this led to reprisal raids. Although Botswana could not risk allowing its territory to be used as a base of attack against neighbouring governments, it made known its abhorrence of them and refused to establish formal diplomatic relations with either South Africa or Rhodesia. The apartheid regime, commented Mandela later in a speech to the people of Botswana, ‘hoped that through kidnappings, bombings, armed raids and assassinations that violated the sovereignty and peace of your country, they would intimidate you. But they were wrong. They were deceiving themselves!’32 In this respect Botswana differed sharply from Swaziland and Lesotho, which remained satellites of South Africa. It was easier for Botswana to avoid this, in so far as it had a tiny boundary with Zambia, offering a thread of contact with black Africa. But it was also an act of courage: in the words of John Hatch, ‘Botswana was not in a position to act as a bastion against apartheid; but she repudiated the role of its servant.’33
Seretse’s key task in foreign relations was to win respect from countries such as Zambia and Tanzania; in 1968 there was an exchange of presidential visits with President Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia, which developed into a strong friendship between the countries and other frontline states. Botswana came to be seen as a state with high principles, upholding liberal democracy and non-racialism. At the very least, wrote Julius Nyerere, the President of Tanzania, in 1980, so-called African experts had expected Botswana to become ‘a puppet of South Africa’s apartheid Government’. But, he said,
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