The Kalahari Killings
Page 18
This meant that some of the Bechuanaland troops had to wait until the first quarter of 1946 before they could be shipped back to South Africa. For a handful of companies in Palestine this proved too much and they refused to dismiss from morning parade. This non-violent protest lasted only a couple of days.
Any negative feelings disappeared once on board the ships until Durban and the sound of marching songs reverberated around the hulls of the transports. Forsyth-Thompson was on hand in Durban to welcome the first troops home. Once disembarked, they went to Clairewood camp, where nearly four years earlier Gordon Edwards and Walter Adamson had stayed. Here they were formally demobilised, but some of them faced a further delay with a shortage of trains to make the journey back to the protectorate. However, each man received fitted civilian clothes, including a suit, hat, shirt, tie, socks and shoes, a testimonial and a £10 gratuity.
A handful of Batswana had a final duty to attend to however, with a selection of sergeants and sergeant-majors being chosen to represent the High Commission Territories at the Victory Parade in London in front of King George. Others paraded in Durban, but the parade that meant the most to the majority of the returning soldiers was the one held in front of their tribes and chiefs. The Resident Commissioner represented the British Government at each of these.
One year later there was a great reunion in Lobatsi, with uniformed black troops coming from all parts of Bechuanaland to receive thanks from the King in person. The white royal train stood in a siding in the small town where the fate of the murderers of Gordon Edwards and Walter Adamson had been decided. Surrounded by the green April hills, King George, his wife, and two young princesses witnessed the final parade of the ‘ten thousand men’.
During the course of the conflict thirty-two Batswana had been mentioned in dispatches, earning a deserved reputation for efficiency and professionalism for the whole Bechuanaland group. Chitu Bakombi and Rasebolai Kgamane were both awarded the British Empire Medal while Regimental Sergeant Major Molwa Sekgoma earned an MBE, then a very rare distinction for a Motswana.
Two hundred and ten men never returned home and another five hundred and sixty had brought back wounds serious enough to qualify them for disability pensions.
After the excitement of war, culminating with the royal visit of thanks, Bechuanaland returned to its normal state of sleepy happiness. Some of those who had seen the world during their service brought back some political ideas, but, for the most part, soldiers went back to the cattle posts and the fields, tending the maize while the world slowly forgot about them.
POSTSCRIPT
TSHEKEDI KHAMA’S DOWNFALL AND
SERETSE’S RISE
Tshekedi Khama had earned the gratitude of the British administration for not only the handling of the ‘Bushmen Case’, but also for his support for the war effort. The Bangwato supplied more men and raised more funds than any of the other Batswana tribes. His battles of the 1930s and his temporary suspension by Rey now seemed a long way away. However, given his strong personality, this good relationship with the administration could not last. The cause of his next fall from grace came from an unexpected quarter.
At the end of the war Tshekedi and the Bangwato sent their future chief, Seretse Khama, to study in England. After completing his degree at Fort Hare in 1944 he spent a year at Oxford before joining the Inner Temple to become a barrister. It was here that he met Ruth Williams, a white middle-class girl from Blackheath. After a whirlwind romance, Seretse informed his uncle that he intended to marry Ruth. Tshekedi was vehemently against the union as it went against Tswana tradition and he was joined in his opposition by the British administration. A mixed marriage in the 1940s was controversial enough, but when it involved potentially one of the most important chiefs of a black African colony surrounded by racially obsessed white-ruled countries it was too much for the British Government.
Despite the opposition, Ruth and Seretse married. The ceremony was a civil one as political pressure had caused the Bishop of London to cancel a church service. Seretse returned to Serowe to explain his case to the Bangwato and after two difficult Kgotla meetings, where he threatened to abdicate, he won over the majority of the tribe. Tshekedi continued to oppose the marriage and took some of his supporters to live with the neighbouring Bakwena. Many suspected that the old man did not want to give up the chieftainship to his nephew. The British, under pressure from Rhodesia and South Africa, ordered a report into Seretse’s conduct and suitability for becoming kgosi (chief). When Sir Walter Harrigin reported that Seretse was indeed ‘a fit and proper person’, his report was buried in the finest traditions of the British Civil Service. Instead, Seretse was invited to England for talks on his accession. Once in London the government tried to offer Seretse money and jobs, including the ambassadorship to Jamaica, in return for giving up the chieftainship. When he refused he was banished from Botswana for five years and forced to remain in the United Kingdom. At the same time Tshekedi was banished from the Bangwato reserve. During this difficult time, Seretse was represented by Percy Fraenkel, the lawyer who had successfully defended Twai Twai Molele.
The Bangwato refused to elect a new chief and Seretse’s popularity only grew with his mistreatment by the British. Protests, tax avoidance and even violent riots ensued. Seretse also had his supporters in Parliament, Fenner Brockway organising the Council for Defence of Seretse. The fact that South Africa was becoming increasingly racist and anti-British meant that it was becoming less likely that Bechuanaland could be incorporated into the Union. Independence for all of Britain’s African territories was on the cards, although there was a concern in the protectorate’s case because of the number of different tribes that inhabited the land. Eventually, Tshekedi travelled to Britain in 1956 to bury the hatchet and Seretse was allowed to travel home, but only as a private citizen and not as a chief. This mattered little to the thousands that turned up to welcome him on his return. Tshekedi once again was back in favour, but this was to be his final recovery as he died in 1959.
Seretse Khama never lost his popularity and it was no surprise that his Botswana Democratic Party won the first elections in the protectorate. His personality was influential in drawing all the Batswana tribes together to form a united country. When the Union Jack was drawn down under unusual September rains to be replaced by the blue, white and black of the new Botswana flag, it was Seretse Khama who took control of what was still one of the poorest countries in the world. The following year, 1967, one of the world’s biggest deposits of diamonds was found at Orapa. Later this would be joined by another mine at Jwaneng, giving Botswana the planet’s biggest diamond mines in terms of both volume and value. Negotiating a very good deal with de Beers, Botswana went on to become arguably the most successful African country. Seretse Khama would win two more elections and would be knighted by the British before his untimely death from cancer in 1980. Ruth lived for another twenty-two years, earning a warm respect as the ‘first lady’ of the country.
The statue of Sir Seretse Khama that stands outside of Parliament.
Despite being surrounded by political chaos in neighbouring states as white rule was violently challenged and eventually overcome, Botswana maintained its status as a peaceful, multi-party democracy. Indeed, faced by the situation in South Africa, the new country went out of its way to show that it was race blind. Its capital, the newly built city of Gaborone, was for many years the world’s fastest growing city. The diamond wealth, unlike the mineral money in many African countries, was invested in infrastructure, health and education.
Today, Botswana is undoubtedly one of Africa’s success stories. Although rural poverty and HIV/AIDS have provided large challenges, the country continues to develop at breakneck speed. New malls and even ‘skyscrapers’ are going up in Gaborone on what seems like a monthly basis, yet the country has maintained its friendly small village feel. One feels that both Charles Rey and Tshekedi Khama would have been impressed.
IMPACT ON THE BUSHMEN
As well as the police station in Nata, the administration set up game camps at Modala and Sepako in order to crack down on illegal poaching of the type Twai Twai had been involved in. Tshekedi Khama was asked to help in the relocation of the remaining ‘wild’ Bushmen in the Nata region. This was done by using mounted patrols to round up the Tyua and ensure that the disarming orders had been carried out. Those captured in these sweeps were resettled in villages to the south of the Nata River. Here they were used to carry out work in the fields or as cattle herders, the same fate as many of their ancestors. The resettlement efforts led to conflict between the Tyua and the Bangwato, with persistent rumours of Bushmen being beaten and even killed during the process. Many Tyua drifted farther south to work for other tribes rather than stay with the Bangwato.
The government did keep its promise to establish a Livestock Improvement Centre near Pandamatenga, about 130 miles north of Nata. Here work was found for some Tyua, initially in the construction of fences and then as cattle herders. For the first time Bushmen were paid for the services in cash and not just milk, but this also brought social problems to the Tyua as some people grew richer than others, which had not occurred before. Unfortunately, a combination of poisonous plants and losses to lions and hyenas led to low productivity and the cattle centre was closed in the mid-1950s. The Tyua employed there had tried their best to protect the herds from predators, with at least two of their number being killed on lion hunts. One of those who lost their lives was one of Twai Twai Molele’s sons.
Despite this, the Tyua in Bechuanaland probably fared better than their compatriots on the Rhodesian side of the border. Having been forced out of many areas by white farmers or by the creation of game parks they often found life difficult with their Kalanga or Ndebele neighbours, who viewed them with suspicion and often accused them of stealing cattle. After Ian Smith’s Unilateral Declaration of Independence many Tyua men found themselves induced into fighting, either for the government or the liberation forces. Many families were resettled in ‘protected villages’ with heavy restriction on weapons and hunting, further disrupting traditional life. Even after Zimbabwe gained independence the Tyua benefitted little, largely being ignored, even to the extent that at one point a government official claimed that Zimbabwe had no Bushmen.
In independent Botswana the events in Nata were gradually forgotten by those who had heard of them; the vast majority of the population had not. The introduction of universal primary education, the building of village clinics and the provision of clean running water meant that by the mid-1980s life was changing for the Tyua and other groups that had access to the new infrastructure.
The problem was that the new roads and facilities were concentrated down the eastern side of the country, largely following the development that Rhodes’ railway had brought. Those San Bushmen in the central Kalahari or near Ghanzi saw little benefit. The government of Botswana decided to build new villages with clinics and schools and relocate people there. This met with much opposition from those Bushmen who did not want to give up their ancestral lands. In the 1990s there were forced relocations of San from the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) for game conservation within the massive park. While many accepted that the relocations started with the best of intentions, many families struggled to cope with the change in lifestyle. Most of the new villages were still too far from the developing east of the country to offer any long-term job prospects and alcohol dependence became a major problem. Later relocations from the CKGR were tainted by the suspicion that the area might contain diamond deposits.
The process of relocation has led to several High Court cases in Botswana that have generally found in favour of the Bushmen. Diamond mining has already begun. The handling of this issue is perhaps the one black mark against an otherwise very happy and successful country. Today a couple of hundred Bushmen still live relatively traditional hunter-gatherer lifestyles, while the vast majority with San roots are integrated, with mixed success, into Botswana’s developing society.
TWAI TWAI
Twai Twai Molele went on to live a long life, eventually drifting back to the Nata region. It became commonly accepted that the story portrayed by the prosecution was the correct one and many of those involved acknowledged this was so. Twai Twai is one of those alleged to have admitted his part in the murder of the airmen.
In the mid-1970s he was interviewed by Robert Hitchcock, now a professor and acknowledged expert on indigenous groups, especially in southern Africa. Hitchcock was then a young researcher who had come across the story of Gordon and Walter’s murder and appreciated the insight into Tyua life that the trial documents provided. He made copies of Captain Langley’s sketch maps, which have since been lost from the court files. These, along with the case notes, gave a glimpse into a way of life that was rapidly disappearing. Hitchcock managed to track down many of those who had been involved in the case, including some of the police who had carried out the investigation. However, when he asked Twai Twai about his version of events the reply was, ‘Who is still interested in those things?’
Today Twai Twai is remembered in the Historical Dictionary of Botswana as ‘a social bandit of Shua descent’.
THE TEN THOUSAND:
RRE MOLATLHWE
Some of the troops that had served the Empire so well in its time of need, such as Philip Matante and Amos Dambe, played significant parts in the creation of Botswana. Their experience overseas, especially meeting people from other colonies, gave rise to a new political awareness. This was reflected upon their return in the setting up of the first Setswana newspaper, Tlou, which today lives on as the government-produced Daily News. The reading of newspapers was a habit many of the soldiers brought back with them.
However, many did just drift back into village life and their stories were quickly forgotten as independence arrived and the freedom struggles in neighbouring countries became the focus of a new generation. War pensions became the sole reminder of their youthful adventures. Unfortunately, they began to feel that they did not get the recognition they deserved, either from the Botswana Government or their former British masters. This began to change in the early part of the new millennium when visiting academics helped the veteran association to collect memories and quickly disappearing oral tales. When this was brought to the attention of the British High Commission they organised an annual dinner for Remembrance Day.
I was fortunate enough to be invited to the 2013 dinner in Kanye, southern Botswana. Hosted by the British High Commissioner and with a British military presence from Pretoria, it was a real honour to meet some of the final survivors of the conflict. The youngest was in his early 90s while the oldest was over 100, yet they all retained a humble feeling of loyalty to Britain and a sense of humour. Interestingly, this was the first celebration to invite the Botswana knitters, the ladies who had learnt how to make the hats and scarves that had made their way to Syrian winters.
The author and Mr Molatlhwe, one of the Ten Thousand.
One veteran was invited to talk to secondary school students at Maru-a-Pula School, where he amazed children not only with his memories but with his physical fitness. Ephraim Molatlhwe had felt a debt of gratitude for the British protection that Queen Victoria had bestowed upon Bechuanaland and had no hesitation in signing up to fight Hitler. He remembers being told of the horrors of what was happening in Germany and especially the treatment of Jewish university staff and the way the education system ha
d been affected in Germany. Given the almost complete lack of any educational system in Bechuanaland at the time, this was a curious argument for recruiters to have used. Like many of his comrades, Molatlhwe spoke no English when he arrived for his training in Lobatsi. Drilling by a very vocal sergeant-major was his introduction to the language of Shakespeare and to this day his English consists largely of stock phrases learnt from the British Army seventy years earlier. His first train ride was followed by his first sight of the sea at the Durban coast. Molatlhwe heard the explosions of the torpedoes that sent hundreds of his Lesotho colleague to the bottom of the ocean. He had vivid memories of coming under fire for the first time and admitted, in his phrase-book English, that ‘I nearly shit myself’. When asked by one of the students what he did when the Germans shot at him, the 93-year-old dived lengthwise, without any hesitation, down to the cold, hard, concrete floor – amusing the children and more than slightly scaring his minder from the British High Commission. To prove that he was still up to the task, he completed ten push-ups before springing back upright.
A few more examples of drill, including his Lee Enfield rifle, concluded with a standing ovation and a quick march to the exit, and this tiny veteran left the children with a new understanding of their history – for many it was the first time they had heard that their great-grandfathers had fought in the war.