Dislocated to Success

by Iain Bowen

  However, the mood wasn’t helped by quite a large number of bilious delegates from the Southern Home Counties who, no matter what the subject, seemed to think that money was being wasted which could create suitable jobs for their unemployed. I was forced to agree with Tony Homewood - which is not very common for me - that they should shut up, put up and sort things out for themselves. Homewood is one of Nature’s rough men, although his bark is much worse than his bite and his general crudity actually hides a fairly decent heart and brain. As he said to me, it was probably 3 years before the next election and as long as things were turned around by then we would be alright. I tended to agree, but I was somewhat worried about the constant losses of councillors in some areas.

  My own speech went down reasonably well; I emphasised how we were making peaceful contacts to boost our trade, and that we were becoming increasingly respected across Europe as neutral arbiters. It wasn’t my finest hour, but there wasn’t that much to go off over the previous year. You can’t bring home a Treaty of Bordeaux every year - not that that pleased the men and women of West Kent. The PM was much picked up from last year, and was pretty much cheered to the rafters on a simple rendition that we were both rolling back the frontiers of the State and also rolling back the frontiers of ignorance.

  By the autumn of 1983, we had reached the position where the endless flurry of work had pretty much ended and the Foreign Office was functioning well. There were still some black holes in the Far East, and Lord only knows what was happening in Central Asia, but this wasn't regarded as a problem by Number 10 and she was quite right in her assessment.

  In fact, most of the remaining problems in foreign affairs were at home; cis and trans mores are so far apart that three years made little difference. Most powers had learnt that the best thing to do with a transgressing British citizen was to just hand them over to the Embassy, but it didn't stop a constant barrage of outrage. Much of trans-Europe was frankly very unpopular; one or two of the more flamboyant rulers were regarded as amusing but even the more enlightened despots were at best regarded as opera buffa figures.

  Sweden did try and put over its democratic credentials as a selling point, which whilst weak were much better than just about anywhere else in Europe, and then spoilt it with outrageous protectionism. The United Provinces... well, our poor start and their dogged defence of slavery until 1982 didn't help there either, but they too were a bit further ahead than others - not much, but enough for some of the more intelligent newspapers to notice.

  The best people at handling their relations with the UK were the Portuguese; they hadn't taken on their embassy staff for nothing, and although there had been somewhat of a gap in thinking between modern social democrats and Portuguese absolutism the idea of Portugal came first. They even managed, over a period of time, to co-opt a fair number of Brazilians as well - not all of them, but the cis-Brazilian diaspora in the UK had been very small.

  The main difficulty was the retention of slavery; there had been a series of proclamations which had promised to remove slavery, but the economic needs of the Portuguese state had also been taken into account. Slavery was more being phased out than removed. For the grand plan to work, a constant stream of revenue was needed - mainly from some very unpleasant gold and diamond mines. Hence the Portuguese had moved into a paid indenture system for the Royal Mines, with promises of a decent lump sum and land at the end of it. Conditions, however, were rather grim to say the least, but it was just about enough to mollify most people.

  Of course, British businesses were being engaged hand over fist for contracts in Portugal; Lisbon had stated how much it wanted to spend in real money on preparing for the earthquake, general modernisation and on making Brazil a success. Whilst before the Dislocation such sums would have been laughed at, now they were nearly the only serious non-British game in town.

  Part of this was trying to get people to invest in Portugal itself; they had spent some serious money on hiring consultants from the Dorset Institute of Higher Education to teach some English and basic tourism skills to people around Faro and Funchal, where they had lured UK hotel and holiday camp makers into making an investment. Experts were making the vineyards of the Douro, Madeira and the Dão more productive and more palatable, whilst others were working on irrigation and market gardening. We had even briefly touched on the exploitation of some sensitive mineral deposits further up the Douro Valley, but those had unusually been refused.

  The Portuguese had also been very busy making business contacts; Maxwell House, the London Rubber Company and John West were all now investing Brazil, Angola and the Cap Verdes. A bunch of Cornish chaps had gone out there, to look for some metal that was used to coat ball-bearings and in transistors, and had started operations. Coalite were the latest ones to be lured there, with the idea that the vast coal deposits of Rio Grande do Sul could be used to sell fuel to the River Plate, to the rest of Brazil and maybe even further afield.

  This left Portugal with a huge shortage of labour, in Brazil in particular. They were dealing with this by offering a free passage and either land or money; the intention was mainly to try and get many people out of Lisbon before the earthquake. It was partly succeeding, but our man in Rio said that some of the new emigrants were somewhat unhappy. There was also a small emigration stream in the other directions; because of the long standing alliance, rather more Lisboetas spoke tolerable English than in much of the rest of Europe, and quite a few who didn't want to be farmers in Brazil had become domestic servants in London or had decided to take their luck by trying for BNA.

  However, the Portuguese let nothing die on its feet; their latest approach was fascinating. Obviously, we received a number of applications for colonisation from Europe that we rejected; could they possibly have a look at the rejections to offer them a place in Brazil? I resolved to discuss this with Michael; I didn't see anything wrong with the idea and - mercifully for our relations - neither did Michael.

  Of course, all this was somewhat moot as, over the winter of 1983/4, an additional number of colonists became available to the Portuguese - and more suitable ones than rejected Catholic Germans, in that they were quasi-Lusophone anyway. Spain had only really recovered very slowly from the after-effects of the war and the losses of the Treaty of Bordeaux. A poor summer had not helped things, and the tendency of Andalusian farmers to grow luxuries for the English market and buy their food elsewhere meant that there were food pressures on other areas. It was something we saw happening in several countries, a ripple effect on food prices leading to one poor and usually remote area becoming at risk of famine. However, in Extramadura, it did lead to famine and quite a savage one - we were tipped off early about it by the Portuguese and were able, in conjunction with them, to make some useful preparations - which also assisted the Portuguese plan to deal with the future Earthquake.

  The famine itself was fairly grim; there really was no spare food in Spain - or at least not transportable spare food - although we were told that it wasn’t a major famine, the cheery souls from AgAndFish reckoned that there would probably only be about 50-60,000 dead. How this doesn’t equate to major I don’t know, but they tell me that a not inconsiderable number of people die of malnutrition every winter in most European countries, partly for cost and partly for supply reasons. I know Willie did a sterling job in some of the more remote parts of Ireland in the first years which was related to this.

  The Portuguese were willing to help; they also had some spare food because they had starting building up state reserves. They also saw a chance to gain the extra colonists for Brazil that they had long wanted - and ones who, being from a border province, had some command of dialects closely related to Portuguese. They were also willing to assist with paying some of the costs of the operation as it unfolded, which was very fair of them - although they did gain around 50 miles of good quality road we built during the crisis.

  The idea was fairly simple: people would be taken in over the border, assessed, given medic
al treatment and then taken to an easier to supply tent city further down the Tagus; there they would be fed until conditions allowed them to return home. During that time, the Portuguese entertained them by showing them jolly little films of the wonders of Brazil and pointed out that there was free land, financial and food support for the first year and that they would be free farmers with no feudal ties.

  Of course, all this depended on the Spanish playing ball, and that appeared to depend on what day of the week it was. To start with there were no problems with people exiting into Portugal, then there were, then there weren’t. It seemed to depend on whether the local lord or the local bishop had issued the last edict. Luckily we managed to get a message through to Madrid about this, and after a couple of weeks of chaos it was all sorted out and the remainder of the operation was successful. Around 40,000 people went to the feeding centres; around 25,000 took the Brazil option, and the majority of the rest returned back to their homes. The main exceptions were some people who had found jobs in Portugal and decided to stay, and a group of around 800 unaccompanied children who were a bit of a problem; they were regarded by the UK as too young to go to Brazil on their own, although the Portuguese disagreed. After a considerable effort, some of them were reunited with their parents - in many other cases the parents had sent the kids so they would survive. We ended up with about 200 orphans, or presumed orphans, between about 7 and 12 (any younger children found places in Portuguese families) who we brought back to the UK and eventually fostered with families in British South East Africa.

  One of the most difficult times I faced in 1984 was the final announcement of the treaty concerning British North America with France. I made a long speech in the House of Lords and faced many interventions and a lot of detailed questioning. This is, of course, what the Lords excel at; my proxies in the Commons got a much easier ride than I did, although there was the usual outrage at allowing the French even the smallest crumbs of the American table. The Lords, however, are somewhat more Commonwealth-minded than the Commons and far more of them apply an almost Liberal level of detail to British North America, but without the Liberals’ fairly easy-going attitude on what British North America actually is.

  The whole idea that we were giving up land which was outside of the former cis-Province of Quebec and the cis-State of Louisiana was anathema to some; the fact was that we were stretched in every single direction, and there were more issues over colonisation than we had originally considered. There were various things that we wanted, but even Michael at his most optimistic realised that it might be 50 years before the UK had anything resembling a coherent presence across the continent. There weren’t that many partisans for British Arkansas - there were more from British Ontario, but the natural politeness of cis-Canadians didn’t help them. The price of Detroit had been Labrador, and the price of Toronto would have been politically toxic. Contrary to some reports, the French were willing to give up most of Ontario - but the price in cash, in technology and in geopolitical concessions was too much to pay and would have certainly led to a different result from the Pragmatic war.

  Having said that, their Noble Lords are a difficult audience at the best of times; many of them have obscure specialist knowledge and can use it to careful effect. They spent the best part of a week on the Treaty, and I ended up giving a very long summing-up speech which had to be concocted from an array of officials. Only about half their pertinent points had even been considered and prepared for an answer. One of their clearest challenges was “What is the political end of the settlement?”; that was something we didn’t know, and even as I write this book a decade on we still don’t really know. I suspect it will be another generation at least before we know if the Lenape model, the Iroquois model or the Cree model is the best for dealing with the Native American peoples. Similarly, the question of Canada is likely to remain moot, although I intellectually side with the “no Canada” camp - it is clear that the differences in North America are between the West Coast, Texas, Florida, Georgia and the East Coast, not between a “USA” and a “Canada”. However, with the treaty passed, the final post-Dislocation settlement had been made and Michael’s office could start to - supposedly - finalise their long term plans.

  Chapter 19

  1984 saw the Marathas become restless again. 1983 had seem some minor skirmishing with the Mughals, and the usual confusion in the Punjab, but nothing major as both feared that Nader Shah would come down like the proverbial wolf on the fold. Of course, he had his own problems - he was firstly trying to reform, and secondly dealing with a large number of conspiracies against him. Having realised this, the various Maratha and Mughal proxies started their version of the Great Game again.

  By this time, both Maratha and Mughal power had completely dispersed from the far south of India. Former governors, rajahs and - in one case - an army General had started up their own states, and were firstly consolidating their power and secondly trying to ensure good relations with the British or with other dominant Europeans in their immediate area.

  However, in Bengal, the Mughals spent much of the dry season re-establishing themselves as a presence over a rather independent-minded Nawab; whilst the Marathas looked to the east coast of India, and particularly Southern Orissa, where a weak coalition of various Mughal-inclined warlords partly changed their minds on who they owed their fealty to, or proceeded to ally with Hyderabad, who was felt in India - somewhat incorrectly - to be in the favour of the UK.

  Needless to say, we were keeping well out of it. We were only concerned with the direct neighbours of Bombay, most of which were nominally part of the Maratha confederacy. Otherwise, we sought mainly trade - and, whilst we had some strong partnerships developing especially with smaller states, there were no allies. There was, however, a general feeling than neither Maratha nor Mughal should predominate, and the Indian-born citizenry of the UK were mainly concerned with the Punjab or Gujarat.

  However, at the very end of December 1983 news came to us that Yanaon on the Orissa coast had been seized by the Confederacy forces. Yanaon contained a small French commercial concession which they hoped to grow into a factory. The French were somewhat concerned that Madras would be next, and contacted us - purely for information of course, although the military attaché dropped several hints about how we might be able to assist.

  The initial reaction of the Government was cool; the Toulouse ministry had not been as cooperative as the Fleury ministry, and there was little inclination to assist the French in any capacity. However, as news got out that a Maratha army was marching down the East Coast, a number of small issues were pointed out which did mean that we were slightly concerned. Madras had been a British factory based out of Fort St. George, and there were a number of trans-British citizens still resident there. Secondly, there was an emergency flying boat facility at Madras occasionally used by the RAF, and lately by Laker Airways as part the Lawrence Marks - Phuket run.

  Therefore, it was decided that there may be some British interests that needed safeguarding, and HMS Arethusa was sent from Phuket. They were not to engage under any but the direst circumstances; their job was simply to evacuate if needed, and also to make sure the flying boat facility had nothing worthwhile left in it if needed. Of course, they were also under orders to check on the progress of the Maratha army down the coast - and additionally to take notes on French military progress; whilst most French colonial troops were regarded badly, Madras and Pondicherry had been reinforced recently with good troops and there were a number of suggestions floating around regarding why that could have happened.

  By the start of January it was clear that the Marathas were headed down the coast, and that if their destination was Madras it would probably be reached at the end of the month. However, we were surprised to learn that the French had showed considerable acumen. One of Laker's floatplane air taxis had been hired (at great expense) and was monitoring the progress of the Maratha Army. I applauded their cunning, and considered that Madras must be ma
king more money than we had thought.

  Whilst all this was going on, I also had to act as the go-between to sort out the tricky issue of young Mr Martí. Our erstwhile hero of the Cuban resistance had been sufficiently feted by Richard Branson to spend the winter at his island in the Caribbean, from which he was planning on launching some exclusive holiday resorts in other islands in the vicinity. He had also invited a certain Royal Personage along; keeping that out of the Press involved the careful dispensation of a number of favours - Private Eye was the only one to suggest that “Yvonne” might be discussing exotic Ugandan relations. Luckily the Personage returned in February, refreshed from her break, and we decided to quietly deal with the Martí problem by finding him a useful sinecure in the Caribbean, involved with the welfare of Cuban refugees - but also well away from Mr Branson’s holiday island.