by Mark Curtis
PART IV
COUPS, DICTATORS
13
UGANDANS: THE RISE
OF IDI AMIN
In January 2002 the British government declassified some of its planning files on the 1971 coup in Uganda that brought Idi Amin to power.
A search on the BBC website produced 35 mentions of Idi Amin, none of which covered the release of the files. Indeed, at exactly the time BBC correspondents could have been analysing the story of Britain's role in the rise of Idi Amin, they produced a story headlined 'Amin's son runs for mayor'. The only mention on the BBC site I could find of a possible British role was an aside buried in one article. Political commentator Yasmin Alibhai-Brown, a Ugandan Asian expelled by the Amin regime, was quoted saying that Britain was 'implicitly involved in his rise to power'; there was no further comment or explanation from the reporter.1
A search on the Guardian website produced 208 mentions of Idi Amin; again, the release of the declassified files was not covered. Of the 208, I found two articles that mentioned Britain's acquiescence in the rise of Amin.2
Both the BBC and the Guardian, and other mainstream media, had ample opportunity to recount Amin's rise to power when he died in exile in Saudi Arabia in August 2003. Yet the only articles I could find on the Internet revealing something of Britain's role were in the East African and in the Ugandan newspaper the Monitor. No one in the British press seems willing to inform the public of another interventionist strategy carried out in their name.
The Amin coup
The declassified documents tell us first that British officials were delighted to see the back of the government of Milton Obote which Amin overthrew. Eleven days before Amin's coup on 25 January 1971, Britain's High Commissioner in Kampala, Richard Slater, ran through the list of problems that Obote was causing Britain, concluding that Anglo-Ugandan relations were in a 'deplorable' state.3 Most prominent of these was Obote's nationalisation measures and the threat to withdraw from the Commonwealth if Britain went ahead with resuming arms exports to apartheid South Africa, as it was then proposing to do.
On the latter issue, Ugandan Foreign Minister Odaka had publicly said that to proceed with arming South Africa would strengthen it militarily, lead to an arms race in Africa, heighten racial tensions and enable Pretoria to frustrate the prosecution of sanctions against it. He said that if the sale of arms went ahead the Heath government would be opposing 'the liberation of the oppressed majorities in Southern Africa' and strengthening 'the hands of the oppressors'. High Commissioner Slater said that 'we are in for a difficult time' with Obote if the decision to resume arms sales go through.4
As for nationalisation: in May 1970 Obote announced legislation whereby the government would take over all foreign import and export businesses and acquire compulsorily 60 per cent of the shares of oil companies, manufacturing industries, banks, insurance companies and other sectors. Compensation would be paid over periods of up to 15 years out of the profits received by the Ugandan government.
British officials were aware that this was was entirely legal, but the measures were a direct challenge to British business interests. The threat was recognised by the Foreign Office as having 'serious implications for British business in Uganda and Africa generally'. Crucially, 'there is a danger that other countries will be tempted to try and get away with similar measures with more damaging consequences for British investment and trade'. It noted that three weeks after the Ugandan announcement, the government of Sudan nationalised foreign businesses 'in an even more unacceptable way'.'' The fear that Obote's nationalisation would be promoted elsewhere was repeated by a British big business lobby group, the East African and Mauritius Association, which told the Foreign Office that:
The end result is the loss of British investment overseas and the establishment of precedents which could involve similar action by governments of other territories with adverse repercussions on the British economy.
The danger was of 'the emergence of a pattern' and it urged the British government to make clear to these other governments 'their very grave concern at recent developments in Uganda'.6
Fifty British firms operating in Uganda were threatened by nationalisation, the major ones including three banks, Grindlays, Standard and Barclays, and several other large corporations like Shell/BP (then linked rather than discrete companies), BAT, Dunlop, Brooke Bond and Mackenzie Dalgety. By the end of 1970 only one company, Shell/BP, had signed a compensation agreement with the Ugandan government. Foreign Secretary Alec Douglas-Home noted that 'there does not seem at present to be any very hopeful prospect' of these companies negotiating agreements satisfactory to them.7
High Commissioner Slater noted eleven days before the coup that 'British interests suffered more than any other' from these nationalisation measures. He also noted that 'to the extent that non-Ugandan interests were liable to be hurt, the measures were popular'. However, 'for the vast majority of what I can only describe as the elite of Uganda, the implications were deeply disturbing'. Under Obote:
Capitalism has become a dirty word and the well-to-do are wondering whether it might not be wise to turn in the Mercedes Benz for something more modest and sell off a house or two.
As well as nationalisation, there was 'another hazard' for the elite that had appeared 'in the form of stringent anti-corruption legislation' enacted by Obote in June 1970.8
Slater is here openly mentioning a clear theme of British foreign policy – that British interests are precisely designed to protect the 'elite' from 'popular measures'.
Another Foreign Office official, Eric le Tocq, conceded that 'we are prepared to believe that the policies which he [Obote] is pushing through may well prove, in time, to be in the best interests of Ugandans'. Also recognised was the 'inequity' of the pre-nationalisation arrangements under the East African Community where many companies remitted their profits to Nairobi 'instead of "reinvesting" them in the country in which they are earned'.9
Obote's rule certainly had authoritarian aspects and he had earlier suspended the constitution and assumed control of the state. Yet it was not these negative features of Obote's rule that primarily concerned British planners. At least the Obote regime had promoted several policies beneficial to Ugandans, notably the proclamation of the 'Common Man's Charter' which echoed the call for African socialism by Tanzanian President Julius Nyerere. This provided the backdrop to the nationali- sation measures, which, along with the possible Ugandan reaction to British arms sales to South Africa, were the major concerns of British planners.
The coup by then army chief of staff Amin took place while Obote was attending a Commonwealth conference in Singapore and involved the arrest or shooting of officers loyal to Obote, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of people. The coup was immediately welcomed by British officials. Britain was one of the first countries formally to recognise Amin as President, along with the US and Israel; some African states, such as Tanzania and Zambia, refused to acknowledge the legitimacy of the new military regime.
'Our interest in Uganda in terms of citizens, investment, trade and aid programme [sic] are best served in these circumstances by early recognition', the Foreign Office noted. The files show that British officials canvassed other 'moderate' (i.e., pro-British) governments in Africa 'who we judge likely to be sympathetic towards General Amin' to recognise the new regime. 'We are hoping that we can discreetly let General Amin know of these efforts which we are making on his behalf, the Foreign Office noted.10
'We have no cause to shed tears on Dr Obote's departure', said the Assistant Under-Secretary of State at the Foreign Office, Harold Smedley. 'At long last we have a chance of placing our relations with Uganda on a friendly footing', High Commissioner Slater wrote to the Foreign Office. Three weeks after the coup, Slater was telling the Foreign Secretary that 'Anglo-Ugandan relations can only benefit from the change' and that Amin was 'deeply grateful (as I am) for the promptness with which Her Majesty's Government recognised his regime'.11
Britain thus welcomed the violent overthrow of a government recognised by British officials to be promoting many policies 'in the best interests of Ugandans'. British support also came in full knowledge of why Amin had acted in the first place.
Obote had previously tried to arrest Amin in September 1970 but was prevented by soldiers loyal to Amin. Obote had had to content himself with reducing Amin's powers. He made changes in the structure of the military, entrenching officers loyal to himself. Before leaving for Singapore, he demanded that on his return Amin should provide explanations about the disappearance of arms and corruption in the army. The following week a court case was also due to begin for the murder of Brigadier Okoya, of which Amin was strongly suspected. In the words of British officials 'the coup was probably dictated more by Amin's fear that his own downfall was imminent than by any real desire to save his country from Obote'.12
The British welcome also came with no illusions about Amin's bloody past and character. Amin was 'corrupt and unintelligent', Harold Smedley wrote two days after the coup. There was 'something of the villain about him and he may well be quite unscrupulous and indeed ruthless', a Foreign Office official wrote six days after the coup. Richard Slater managed to convince himself, however, that 'despite his limitations, he [Amin] has considerable dignity and more the air of a leader than Obote'."
Amin's recent past allegedly included some gruesome deeds. As an officer in the King's African Rifles in Britain's colony of Kenya in the early 1960s, Amin is believed to have been involved in torture and killing. In one incident, then Lieutenant Amin, responsible for dealing with illegal cattle-rustling, was said to have tortured a whole village before killing eight men. Then Prime Minister Milton Obote was in no position to make him answer for these crimes: he feared the likely reaction of the rest of Africa to the prosecution of a Ugandan soldier just a few months before Uganda's independence.14
There was a further hope expressed by British planners – that Amin's military coup might be replicated by other pro-British forces in the continent. Eric le Tocq of the Foreign Office's South-east Asian Department wrote that:
General Amin has certainly removed from the African scene one of our most implacable enemies in matters affecting Southern Africa . . . Our prospects in Uganda have no doubt been considerably enhanced . . . If Amin's coup is successful, in that he remains firmly entrenched in power, and eventually gains the acceptance . . . of the other black African governments, this will no doubt enhance the temptation to other African military leaders to follow his example. Events in Uganda will have been noted in Kenya [sic] military circles, though there seems little likelihood of any military move until president Kenyatta leaves the scene. This could conceivably produce a government better disposed to Britain than Kenyatta's political heirs.15
When this period is discussed at all in the media (which is rare), the standard line is that given how Amin soon expelled the Ugandan Asians, British planners must have made a 'mistake' in acquiescing in Amin's rise. This is not the case; British policy was far from being a 'mistake'. The fact is that Britain consciously supported and connived in the rise of Idi Amin because of long-standing British interests to get rid of governments like that of Obote who were challenging 'elites' and promoting 'popular measures'. This episode is a microcosm of general British foreign policy and illustrates one of its most fundamental aspects.
Amin effectively reversed Obote's nationalisation plans. 'Many firms were saved from a nasty dose of nationalisation by General Amin's seizure of power', Eric le Tocq later wrote. In May the new regime gave a statement on its economic policy that welcomed private investment. In anticipation of this statement, the Foreign Office wrote that the policy was 'broadly welcome to British companies here and should go a long way towards the restoration of foreign investment confidence in Uganda'. The new regime was showing 'an encouraging attitude in the economic and financial spheres', it noted. 'We expect its policies to be more pragmatic and less ruled by the somewhat rigid doctrines of the Obote regime'.16
Terror in Uganda
The subsequent story of Amin's rule is one of repression and terror, a second phase that was in effect also supported by Britain.
By February 1971 Amin had 'concentrated all the powers of parliament and of the former President in his hands', the British High Commission in Kampala noted. He announced that elections would not take place for five years. One Foreign Office official wrote that 'it is now beginning to look as if Uganda may merely have exchanged one form of authoritarian government for another'. In early March a decree banned all political activity for two years and people 'continue to be detained without trial' – the High Commission officials estimated that the number was around 1,000.17
The British reaction was instructive. One Foreign Office official wrote that 'I can appreciate that a period of rule free from all politics, if that is in fact a genuine possibility, could be desirable'. The official went on to say, however, that a 'complete cessation' of politics for two years was 'unnecessary', before adding:
I readily recognise that too much democracy in a country like Uganda at the present stage can be as fatal as too great a degree of authoritarianism. What would seem to be required for the foreseeable future is a realistic balance between firm and, indeed, authoritarian, government and some degree of democratic expression. I believe Uganda needs no necessarily democratic government, but it is important that government should be representative and fair as well as firm.18
With power being concentrated into Amin's hands and officials recommending 'authoritarian' government, the Ugandan regime approached Britain for arms. 'Armoured cars can go ahead. Strikemaster aircraft OK. Perhaps Harriers', wrote the Foreign Office's Eric le Tocq. British policy, he said, should be to show a willingness to supply arms to prevent the Ugandans going elsewhere, but also to discourage them from purchases which are 'overambitious, militarily, technically or financially'.19
On 21 April a British 'Defence adviser' in Kampala met the Ugandan Defence Minister and subsequently reported that 'the prospects for defence sales to Uganda are both clearer and brighter'. Under discussion were Saladin, Saracen and Ferret armoured cars, Jaguar aircraft, helicopters, radar and light guns. A deal to supply one million rounds of ammunition was approved. A Foreign Office official wrote:
We consider it important. . . both in order to keep his [Amin's] goodwill and also to assist in maintaining the stability of his regime that we should facilitate as far as we can the meeting of requests for equipment from this country.
Another official wrote of the 'political desirability of supporting General Amiii'.20
By mid-May, the High Commission recorded continued arrests with up to 1,000 inmates in one prison in Kampala. A further decree issued that month ordered that people could be detained with no time limit if ministers believed that they were engaged in subversive activities. The High Commission was also getting 'several reports' of incidents in which British subjects 'have fallen foul of the army'. In one, a senior expatriate civil servant was severely beaten and his Ugandan deputy beaten to death 'because it was thought that men working under him had been recruited for Obote'.21
In early July Amin announced that he wanted to visit Britain in the middle of the month to discuss British training of the Ugandan army and joint military exercises. The British government quickly arranged what was in effect a state visit. After it was decided to host a lunch for Amin, Prime Minister Edward Heath's personal adviser, Peter Moon, wrote that 'the Prime Minister would like the guests to be of high level so that President Amin feels that he is being honoured'. There should be 'senior military representation and British businessmen with interests in Uganda'. It was understood that 'the primary purpose of General Amin's visit is to discuss military matters'; Amin met the Queen, the Prime Minister and the Defence Secretary, among others.22
The brief from the Foreign Office read: 'General Amin has abandoned Obote's radical pan-African policies for a more moderate and pro-Western policy'. The new
government, a High Commision official wrote, was 'not ideal, but by African standards as good as could be hoped for'.23
At these meetings Foreign Secretary Douglas-Home told Amin that 'we would help as best we could' on military and economic aid and with the training of troops, although the supply of Harrier jets would be too costly for Uganda. A £2 million contract to supply 26 Saladin and 6 Saracen armoured personnel carriers was signed. The Daily Telegraph wrote in an editorial that General Arnin was: