by Ross, Hamish
However, Hinga Norman, defending democracy in his country, paid the highest price. His was a tragic end. He was, as Col Roelf van Heerden put it, ‘an honest leader and a great man.’ Perversely, however, it was his charisma that brought him down: it was threatening to some. His final enemies were not among the RUF − the night before his operation in Senegal, he was leading an RUF man in Bible study − and there were very crude attempts to make something stick that would impugn his motives. One venomous idea was spread, insinuating that he was disloyal and had political aspirations to depose the president. This line was further refined and introduced at the Special Court. Gen Sir David Richards, Chief of the General Staff of the UK testified [see Appendix III] on Hinga Norman’s behalf at the Special Court, and he was asked if he had been able to assess Hinga Norman’s attitude to the government. He said, ‘It rather surprises me, your question.’
Well, it never occurred to me to have to assess it, in that he was clearly absolutely devoted to what he was doing, which was defending the government and defending the country’s rather fledgling democratic process. I never even – I mean, it just didn’t occur to me to question it. He was very often at some personal risk. He was defending the country against the country’s enemies, and would always defer to the President when he – sometimes he’d say, ‘That’s an issue for the President,’ or whatever. So it rather surprises me, your question.4
And when it was put to him that there were allegations that Chief Hinga Norman and the CDF were inclined to overthrow the government, Gen Sir David Richards said that in his professional opinion, in both 1999 and in 2000, ‘if that is what they had wanted to do, they could very easily have done it.’ When he was asked further, he answered:
Yes, I’m very clear. So far as my direct observations are concerned, at no stage did Chief Norman say anything that suggested he was anything but completely loyal to the President in my hearing. Or any actions… If I may, picking up Your Lordship’s point, I infer from the 18 months or so of observing Chief Norman over those five visits that he lacked intent from my perspective. Because, in my professional judgment, over an 18-month period, he could have done what was being suggested a minute ago. He had the military power to do it. That is, I hope, the answer that you were seeking. But specifically, in terms of fact, I also can confirm that at no stage did he say anything that would even hint of anything but loyalty to the government of which he was a part and specifically to the President.
I mean, it was well understood that Chief Norman, as Deputy Minister of Defence, was playing a key role in the defence of the country. But why I said I’m rather surprised, from my narrow perspective, that you even asked the question. It wasn’t a topic of conversation at all. He was absolutely a key partner in what we were all doing.5
And in return for that fidelity, he was abandoned. So, it was entirely appropriate that the Norman family should ask Peter Penfold, a man who had displayed great loyalty to the former Deputy Minister of Defence, to be their representative in dealing with the United Nations and arranging the funeral, along with Dr Albert Joe Demby, former vice president of Sierra Leone. Peter Penfold immediately demanded that an independent pathologist from the United Kingdom be allowed to carry out a post mortem examination of the body.
Part of the problem, and Fred will know this, the UN gave me a helluva time. I’ve got a lot of contempt for the United Nations over the funeral arrangements of Sam Norman because you had all the young European lawyers – no experience whatsoever of Africa − and they’re all saying how the Norman family has been very unhelpful to them, and they’re not co-operating. And I said, ‘Let’s get something straight, Sam Norman was a typical African and had a typical African family, in other words, he had more than one wife; he had several children, and it’s not surprising that they will each have different views on different things.’ I said, ‘That’s why the family collectively have asked me and the ex-vice president to co-ordinate all the funeral arrangements, and to liaise with you. We’re here to help you. But at a time when they are all grieving, you’re imposing all these bureaucratic burdens on them; you’re expecting them to fill in.’
We asked them to delay the autopsy so that an independent pathologist from the UK, Dr Mike Buller, could be there, and they refused. And I was trying to identify an eminent pathologist in Gambia to see whether he could slip across to Conakry, but we failed to do that. In the meantime, I had spoken to Joe, and he agreed that he would go up anyway, although he was not a pathologist, but at least it would be good to have him there with his medical background. And so they carried out the autopsy. Ostensibly the UN would say that they agreed to a pathologist being around and they agreed to pay for him, but when they contacted him – we’d already said he wouldn’t be available until the Sunday – the UN travel people had booked for him to fly out on the Saturday; and then he got in touch with us and said, ‘I told you I can’t go on the Saturday because I’m committed.’ And all this ate up time and time and time, so the end result was we had no pathologist there.
It was a very, very difficult time, and the UN bureaucracy didn’t help. Staff like lawyers and so on, people on the UN gravy train for lawyers. Interestingly enough, the people who had the most sympathy, were the security staff. They developed quite a close bond. Walt Collins was very friendly, and he was the one who was helpful to us during the funeral arrangements. They say that prisoners and prison guards often develop a very close relationship.6
The cause of death, according to the autopsy report, was myocardial infarction, a heart attack. Dr Joe Demby attended the autopsy, and he concurred, but he went beyond the final cause of death in his report to the Special Court [see Appendix IV]. He noted that,
Mr Norman bled from the day of the operation, i.e. 8/2/07, not knowing how much blood he lost during the operation, until the day he died i.e. 14 days. During all this period his haemoglobin was tested only once and two days before he died. After that one blood transfusion of two pints, he developed High Fever and Rigor… Why was the patient continuously bleeding from the day of the operation to the time of his death? In my opinion, if this patient was admitted in a well-equipped hospital all these anomalies would have been detected before it was too late… In my opinion therefore, while I do still accept the autopsy findings, yet I do record here that Mr Sam Hinga Norman died due to medical negligence and the failure of the Special Court to provide the enabling environment i.e. proper medical facilities for his treatment (hospital).7
The Special Court appointed Justice Renate Winter to head an inquiry to look into the circumstances of Hinga Norman’s death. Her report found that proper care had been taken by the Special Court for Sierra Leone in furnishing and providing medical care for Sam Hinga Norman.
‘I therefore, find no reason to believe that the concerned authorities of the Special Court for Sierra Leone have failed in providing the best possible medical treatment available.’8
However, while the learned justice found the authorities of the Special Court to have been impeccable, she apportioned a degree of blame to the deceased: he was responsible for his own death.
Mr Norman refused the doctor’s advice to follow a healthier lifestyle.9
Bearing in mind that a few years earlier Hinga Norman, who was a non-smoker, had been game enough to get into PT shorts and exercise along with the CDF at Base Zero; that during the last four years, his BMI would have gone up, living in such a restricted environment, nonetheless, it appears, he received – and wilfully ignored, according to Justice Winter – the standard advice from a doctor to a patient in his mid-sixties with regard to the areas of input-output in his lifestyle that (in normal circumstances) he can control: change your diet; eat more healthily; and exercise, exercise man! Get out and about more!
Peter Penfold and Dr Albert Joe Demby carried out their responsibilities thoughtfully, and were able to arrange and oversee what one newspaper described as a state funeral without the state.
The Norman family asked Dr Demby and me t
o coordinate the arrangements for the funeral which included the Special Court signing the body over to us from the UN helicopter on its return form Senegal, the laying out of the body in the Victoria Park in Freetown (where thousands filed past the coffin), taking the body by The road to Bo, with stops en route, the church service in Bo, where I delivered the eulogy, taking the body to Mongeri, for traditional service with Chiefs, and finally the burial at the family home. The family asked us to respect Sam Hinga Norman’s wish that the SLPP government should NOT be involved in the arrangements. I persuaded the family to expand this to the non-involvement of any political party − any individual was welcome to attend and participate, but not on behalf of any political party. (You will recall that this was in the run up to an election and all of the parties wanted to take advantage of Sam’s death and funeral in order to attract votes − many claim that Sam’s death had a big say in the defeat of the SLPP at the election.)
And so it was a state funeral without the state! Dr Demby and others such as the CDF and Civil Society Movement must take most of the credit for the arrangements. I found the whole affair very moving and emotional, especially the scenes in Bo, passing through the villages en route to Mongeri and then leading the body on foot into the village hand in hand with the family.10
For Peter Penfold, what happened to Hinga Norman, ‘his arrest and death was a huge travesty of justice for which I remain very annoyed and sad.’11
So, for a time, the destinies of Fred Marafono, Hinga Norman and Peter Penfold ran together and focused on a cause, which, in the absence of commitment on the part of the west, required the use of former professional soldiers, as well as local militias loyal to the government, to have hope of being realized.
In the same way that a phone call from Ian Crooke, twenty-two years earlier, brought Fred into the world of private security work, so that call from Lansana Jawara ended what became an extension of his military career. After the death of the man he had crossed the river for, he never went back to Sierra Leone. His son Duncan took his place with the company Vanguard International Protection West Africa. At first Fred felt anger that a great man who put his country before himself and his family had been set up and abandoned by less worthy men.
However, about a year after Hinga Norman’s death, Fred began to collaborate with the author to have the story of his twelve years in Sierra Leone in book form, not because he felt his role was all that worthy, but because it would be a means of having on the public record some small part of the Chief ’s contribution to his country.
Without a doubt though, Fred’s own part is noteworthy. A modern-day warrior; a master of arms, with years of experience in Britain’s elite force, yet he was endowed with the hallmark of an earlier chieftaincy code. It characterized him, from his first job in KAS and his respect for David Stirling to his outstanding loyalty to Oscar Lima, the Old Lion.
It was this combination of high professionalism in arms and a warrior’s zest for action that made him, within a week, not just a newcomer to Executive Outcomes, but a front man, much older than most of the others but a man Roelf van Heerden had to hold back. What Simon Mann wrote to Fred of his contribution to Executive Outcomes sums it all up,
All reports are that you have done a great job, as I knew you would, and are the man for that job.12
With between 180 and 190 men in Sierra Leone, the company Executive Outcomes stands out as the classic example of what a highly trained, mobile force operating under tight military rules can achieve compared to what, hitherto at least, the wider international community can muster. A comparison of the rough financial costs of EO’s contract in Sierra Leone compared with the cost of UNAMSIL is outlined in Appendix 2, but what cannot be computed is the cost in human life of the political decision to terminate the company’s contract. Basically, Executive Outcomes ended a war in Sierra Leone, and it would have remained that way, instead of continuing for another four years. Each time the rebels entered Freetown, unknown thousands of Sierra Leoneans were to die and hundreds of children were abducted. Unconfirmed estimates put the cost of the 6th January 1999 invasion of Freetown in terms of property destruction and lost growth as high as one billion dollars. Doug Brooks is currently the President of IPOA – the Association of the Stability Operations Industry. In 2000 he was an academic fellow with the South African Institute of International Affairs. He made two research trips to Sierra Leone where he did scores of interviews with Sierra Leoneans, politicians, UN officials, labour leaders and contractors; he would later make clear,
Executive Outcomes was remarkably popular among Sierra Leoneans, a popularity that genuinely came from their military effectiveness and discipline. The war was essentially over at the end of EO’s tenure in 1995–96, and when their contract was shockingly cancelled it resulted in an almost immediate resumption of the conflict − and literally tens of thousands of unnecessary deaths.
Whether the task of ending Sierra Leone’s horrific conflict should have been left to a small private company is a larger policy question that perhaps says more about the international community’s shameful lack of will, but EO was certainly far more effective and professional than the 17,000 UN peacekeepers that would follow. And they did their job without the massive sex trade, black market schemes and endemic military frailty. EO was a bargain in humanitarian terms, it was paid to end Sierra Leone’s conflict, not to kill people, and in fact their presence virtually ended the violence and allowed democratic elections, all at a fraction of the cost in money and lives of the subsequent UN operation.13
Yet the term mercenary tends to give rise to moral opprobrium in political quarters in the west. However, writing in September 2000, Doug Brooks disputed one particular claim:
It’s a fallacy to claim that PMCs ‘kill for money’. PMCs are for-profit companies that are contracted to do a task, such as end a war, and they are expected to use violence to achieve that end. In the past PMCs have killed fewer people and caused far less damage than typical African military factions. And of course, even UN troops are paid for their services.14
And what must not be forgotten is that fewer than 200 men of Executive Outcomes had an impact on the rebel war in Sierra Leone that no other military outfit equalled until Britain’s Operation Barras hit the West Side Boys.
But a holier than thou posture by politicians persists. Peter Penfold gives an illustration.
That’s right, I’ve said that you have two scenarios: in one you have this country with a despot of a dictator, ruining the country, killing lots of his people and so on, is totally undemocratic. And you decide you want to get rid of him; in Country A, we mount this huge international operation, with thousands of American and British troops who go in and remove this guy, and we call that a success and a triumph for democracy. And in Country B, because you can’t get any governments that are prepared to do it, this handful of guys go in and they end up getting arrested and knocked out and we say nothing about it; and they’re the bad guys. One thing I’ve always been annoyed with is the lack of evenhandedness when it comes to dealing with some of these issues. If a principle is right it’s right for those circumstances; you can’t just chop and change.15
The professionalism and effectiveness of even smaller PMCs may exceed what some countries’ militaries are able to accomplish. Against heavy odds, Juba, Fred and Sendaba succeeded in keeping the air bridge open between Monrovia and Lungi in a way that is redolent of the legendary Roman officer, Horatius, and two comrades defending a bridge over the Tiber against an army. The team of Juba Incorporated, who, in the Sandline helicopter, daily risked their lives for small wages, sustained the task force that would liberate Freetown; their achievement adds to the annals of PMCs – and must include honourable mention of Bokkie, the gutsiest of Mi-17s.
Although Fred’s commitment finished with the death of Chief Hinga Norman, and at the end of the day he reaped no riches for his work, this is not a story of failure. Fred’s record is a record of strengths, both professional and
moral; he performed signal service and gave of his best in every engagement for a good cause. You cannot ask more of a soldier.
Appendix I
Hostage of the RUF, Swiss Honorary
Consul-General, Rudiger Bruns
Rudiger Bruns, Swiss Honorary Consul-General in Sierra Leone, was taken captive on 18 January 1995; he spent three months in the hands of Foday Sankoh and the RUF. Fifteen years later, he has long assimilated the experience and can write freely about it.
Hostage of the Revolutionary United Front
One target of the RUF was to cut the economic and financial backbone of the government, which was the mines: diamond, rutile and bauxite. While the diamond areas in the northeast of the country had already come very early on under the control of the RUF, the two biggest companies in the country, Sierra Rutile Ltd (rutile/titanium) and Sieromco Ltd (bauxite) in Moyamba district in the southeast, remained untouched, mainly because the RUF at the beginning did not have enough manpower, and the two mines had their own security arrangements.
The first attempted attack on Sierra Rutile was on Christmas Eve 1994. We, at the mines, were aware of the rebel activities. However, they were considered to be far away and we were not supposed to travel to these areas anyway. Christmas I spent together with my wife in Freetown, staying in one of the company’s bungalows at the Cape Sierra hotel and enjoying life. During the early afternoon of 24 December, we suddenly noticed many friends and some people we knew from Sierra Rutile arriving at the Cape Sierra. What had happened? There had been an attempted attack on Sierra Rutile by the RUF the day and night before. The RUR commander, ‘Dennis’ (a popular name within the RUF), was killed by government forces, and the RUF withdrew.