A message came through that the Legg Inquiry wanted to see me again. I pointed out that if I returned we would have to close down the mission because there were no other UK based officers left to assume charge. This did not appear to worry the department. Sandline and Legg had priority over all other matters. I spoke to Richard Dales and he undertook to find someone to come out and cover so that at least the mission could stay open. One of the young second secretaries in the High Commission in Accra was bundled on a plane and sent down to Freetown to look after the shop. I flew back to London.
Allowing for the cost of bringing an officer up from Accra to keep the mission in Freetown open, as well as the costs for my travel, my further two-hour interview with the Legg Inquiry must have cost the British tax payer in the region of £5,000. Sir Thomas was under intense pressure from Robin Cook to complete the inquiry in time for the minister to present its findings to the House before the summer recess. I had been the first to appear before the inquiry and now they needed to check some things with me in the light of the evidence presented by others. I had not seen what the other interviewees had said. Because of the injunction imposed by the office that I should not visit the Foreign Office, nor discuss the Sandline affair with anyone, it was not until the Legg Report was finally published that I was to discover fully what had been going on and what had been said by others. The same injunction about not discussing the Sandline affair applied equally to my colleagues in the Foreign Office, although, as they continued working alongside one another in the office, it was difficult to imagine that they managed to adhere to this restriction.
Altogether, the Legg Inquiry interviewed seven ministers and forty-nine officials. It also received evidence from certain witnesses outside the public service, including Tim Spicer, Rupert Bowen and Lord Avebury. Several of those interviewed, including the two ministers in the Ministry of Defence, George Robertson and John Reid, Clare Short, the DFID minister, and Captain Dymock, admitted that they were unaware that the arms embargo applied to the Kabbah government. I had given the inquiry a copy of the letter issued by the Assistant Secretary General for Legal Affairs in the UN saying that the supply of military equipment to the Kabbah government was not in breach of the UN sanctions but it chose not to mention this in its report.
The report ran to 167 pages. Its main findings were:
No minister gave encouragement or approval to Sandline’s plan to send a shipment of arms into Sierra Leone, and none had effective knowledge of it. Some officials became aware, or had notice, of the plan. The High Commissioner gave it a degree of approval, which he had no authority to do, but he did not know that such a shipment would be illegal. No other official gave any encouragement or approval. All concerned were working to fulfil Government policy, and there was no attempt to hide information from ministers. However, officials in London should have acted sooner and more decisively than they did on the mounting evidence of an impending breach of the arms embargo, and they should have told ministers earlier and more effectively. As a result, ministers were given no, or only inadequate, notice of the matter until the Berwin letter arrived. The failures at official level were caused mainly by management and cultural factors, but partly by human error, largely due to overload.
The Legg Inquiry was very thorough in what it did. Its shortcomings were related more to the questions that it failed to address, such as whether UN sanctions had been breached or the UK Order in Council was legal, but Sir Thomas had done the job he was expected to do – he had absolved ministers of any responsibility. All the blame was laid at the hands of officials, me in particular. It noted:
The High Commissioner, Mr Penfold, was told of Sandline’s plans, in mid-December 1997 by President Kabbah, and later that month by Mr Spicer, and gave them a degree of approval. However, the full effect of the arms embargo had not been properly explained, and Mr Penfold and others were not aware that the unlicensed supply of arms to the elected government of Sierra Leone was illegal. Mr Penfold should have done more to inform himself about the arms embargo, and should have reported his contacts with President Kabbah and Mr Spicer back to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office more promptly and effectively.
The shortcomings of my colleagues in the office were highlighted, but were criticized less harshly:
At the beginning of February 1998, the head and several officials in the Africa command received definite written notice from Mr Penfold that Sandline’s plans included the supply of arms. They did not immediately appreciate the full significance of the information, and they did not act upon it. As a result, when they subsequently referred the matter to Customs, they did so only on the basis of newspaper allegations drawn to their attention by Lord Avebury. They did not give Customs the more definite evidence by then available to them from Mr Penfold. Because FCO officials at working and middle-management levels did not appreciate the importance and sensitivity of the matter, they did not bring it promptly or prominently to the attention of ministers. And when top management received some, though inadequate, notice in early April, they sought more information before warning ministers.
At the end of its findings the Legg Report made the following observation:
We wish to put our criticisms of officials into context. There were individual failures and misjudgements. But most of the trouble originated from systematic and cultural factors. We consider that the officials involved are loyal and conscientious. They were very busy during the period we have investigated and they worked to good effect in other respects. They have already endured an anxious period of criticism and uncertainty. We hope that this report will help the FCO to close the chapter as far as they are concerned. If any disciplinary proceedings are judged necessary, we hope they will take place soon.
Robin Cook tabled the report in the House of Commons on 27 July. In his address to the House he praised my ‘great courage and commitment’ during the coup, which ‘has won high standing for Britain in the country where he represents us,’ but he went on to criticize me for not ‘having taken steps to inform himself more fully about the scope of the arms embargo’ and for showing ‘a lack of caution in his dealings with Colonel Spicer and to this extent gave Sandline a degree of approval for which he had no authority.’
He accepted all the findings of the Legg Report and said that ‘there will be no scapegoats, and this should be the end of the matter as far as individual officials are concerned.’ He went on to outline a number of measures to be introduced into the workings of the Foreign Office to tighten up the implementation and monitoring of sanctions, and he confirmed that guidelines would be issued regarding official contacts with private military firms. A circular was issued later to all members of the Service at the end of July saying that any contacts with private security firms should be cleared in advance; hitherto there had been no such restrictions or guidelines – a clear case of shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted.
On Robin Cook’s instructions Sir John Kerr sent me a letter drawing attention to the criticisms of me in the Legg Report. I was formally reprimanded for my dealings with Sandline and giving a degree of approval to the Sandline contract, for failing to inform myself about the scope of the arms embargo, and for failing to report effectively on my meeting with President Kabbah on 19 December. I was reminded that for the duration of my tour in Freetown I was expected to have only an ‘official’ relationship with President Kabbah. Sir John concluded his warning letter that ‘none of those involved in this will have a block on their careers as a result. The Personnel Command will ensure that the relevant Selection Board bears this in mind.’
Whether the Selection Board did bear this in mind is highly questionable. I was to apply for sixteen posts after my tour in Sierra Leone was completed and was turned down for all of them. Instead I was ‘encouraged’ to take early retirement.
Although I was far from happy with the result of the Legg Inquiry, I really did hope that it was all now behind us. The events surrounding Sandline and the Legg Inqu
iry had dominated UK/Sierra Leone relations at a time when there was so much that needed to be done in the country, in order to ensure that the gains achieved with the restoration of the legitimate democratic government were not to be lost. I hoped that we could now focus on these.
Chapter Seven
Treason Trials and Executions
Sierra Leone was struggling to get back to normality despite the fact that hostilities were continuing in the east of the country. But normality would not return unaided. It had to be given a push. By reopening the mission we had encouraged the opening of the British banks, Barclays and Standard Chartered. We had also encouraged the reopening of the British Council and other diplomatic missions. HMS Cornwall had paid a return visit in July. Her captain, Anthony Dymock, and chaplain, Garth Petzer, had now left the ship but, under the able command of Captain James Rapp she was warmly received by the people of Sierra Leone, who remembered with deep affection the sterling assistance she had rendered earlier in the year.
The next step was to bring Celia out. I was tired of living a bachelor existence. I had deliberately not taken down our Christmas decorations at the residence to await Celia’s return. Various visitors were bemused to see a Christmas tree with all its decorations on display in the entrance hall in June. I had agreed with Celia that we would have our delayed Christmas celebrations when she had made it back to Freetown. If Celia came out, more wives would be encouraged to return to join their husbands and thus a little more ‘normality’ would be re-established. Colin also arranged for Ruth and the children to come out for the summer holidays, so at the end of July they all flew out together.
Celia’s arrival marked the opportunity for our official crowning as Komrabai and Yabomposse Penfold. The coronation was to take place on a Saturday in the Freetown City Hall, but first we had to go to King Naimbana’s home, a very modest house in the centre of Freetown. There Celia and I were dressed in long flowing robes made of colourful local cloth, predominantly blue. Leather sandals had also been specially made for us. The King’s drum was beaten signifying that he was leaving his house and we all proceeded in our cars to the City Hall, where a large crowd had gathered.
As usual there were endless speeches. In his remarks King Naimbana noted that it had been his great-grandfather who had signed over the very land on which we were standing to a representative of Queen Victoria. At that time the family name was ‘Bana’, but when the British came they asked the King his name and he replied: ‘Me name Bana.’ The British misunderstood and henceforth the family were called ‘Naimbana’. Who would have thought that some 150 years later his great-grandson would have been crowning a representative of Queen Victoria’s great-grand-daughter as a paramount chief?
The speeches were interspersed with much dancing in which Celia and I joined, Celia demonstrating a natural rhythm that was loudly appreciated by the assembled crowd. We were then formally introduced to the King by Alfred Akibo-Betts, a former Mayor of Freetown, and we were crowned. On my head was placed a white hat with a long white tail running down the back. Celia’s hat resembled more a straw sun hat with a white band around it. We were presented with certificates that read:
To Chief Komrabai Penfold. In recognition of his remarkable international patriotic role in restoring constitutionality and democracy to our war-torn nation.
And:
To Yabomposse Peter Penfold. In recognition of her unparalleled steadfast role behind the international successes of her husband.
All the chiefs and sub-chiefs joined us as we sang and danced in a circle. It was a very joyous occasion, all captured by the television cameras. Apparently it was the first time that the crowning of a paramount chief had ever been televised.
As Komrabai Penfold I was a paramount chief of the Western Area, but it had not stopped there. A couple of weeks previously I had paid another visit to Bo and there, not to be outdone by the chiefs of the Western Area, the Mende chiefs appointed me a paramount chief of the Southern Area. This time I was given the name ‘Ndiamu’, which in Mende means ‘friend’. As a Mende Regent (sub) Chief, Sam Hinga Norman was at the ceremony and he delivered a very moving address to the hundreds assembled in the town hall. He noted that in Sierra Leone’s history, two great British people had been sent to the country: in the previous century, ‘Governor Clarkson who gave us a prayer’ (Governor Clarkson’s prayer for Sierra Leone was still read over the radio every morning); and in this century, ‘we have been sent High Commissioner Penfold – who gave us hope.’
Soon after our coronation Celia and I paid a visit to Makeni. It was an early opportunity for the new close protection team, led by Dave Thomas, to get out of Freetown. On the drive north, as we passed through the villages and towns en route, we saw some evidence of the people picking themselves up and getting back to their ‘normal’ lives. There were people in the fields planting their crops and in the villages rebuilding their homes. There was still little traffic on the roads and the area around the Occra Hills looked fairly deserted. We were greeted on the outskirts of Makeni by a huge crowd, who had been waiting for us for several hours. They thronged around our vehicles as we got out to be greeted by Dr Koroma, the minister resident for the north, and Paramount Chief Bai Sebora Kasanga II. Dave and his team were somewhat wary of the milling crowds but, as usual, they handled it coolly and professionally.
One of the main purposes of the visit was to launch the northern branch of the Movement for the Restoration of Democracy (MRD), the body that we had helped in Conakry. A large crowd of several hundred was assembled inside and outside the town hall for the occasion. After the endless introductory remarks by various dignitaries I was invited to deliver a speech. I likened the development of democracy to making a soup – democracy soup. I outlined the ingredients that were required to make democracy soup – a democratic government elected in free and fair elections, a truly representative parliament looking after the interests of the people and including an active opposition, an independent judiciary, a well motivated and trained police force, a non-political and professional army, an honest and hard-working public service, an independent and responsible media, and an active civil society. Like cooking any soup over an open fire, sometimes things fell into the pot – such as coups or corruption – which (to great cheers from the audience), had to be lifted out and thrown away. Good democracies were like good soups, they did not have to be all the same – each would be flavoured in its own special way with the right herbs and spices, they did not all have to follow exactly the Westminster recipe. Sierra Leone’s soup would take account of her culture and traditions, like the Chieftaincy system. I was confident that, given the resources and determination of the people, Sierra Leone could make a good democracy soup.
After the ceremony a large group of us retired for lunch to one of the few houses in Makeni that had not suffered too much damage. We waited until the chairs on which we had been sitting at the town hall were brought to the house and then we dined not on soup but on a meagre but appetising meal of scrawny chicken and rice. Dr Koroma, a leader of one of the northern political parties that had contested the previous election, gave an impromptu and impassioned speech. He proposed a toast to Her Majesty The Queen and then asked us all to rise to sing the national anthem. To my surprise all those present sang not the Sierra Leone anthem but God Save The Queen. Even more remarkably, the assembled gathering continued lustily with the second verse. I reflected whether even in Britain so many people would have known the words. Here was yet another manifestation of the love and respect that is held for The Queen throughout the world but especially in the Commonwealth. I was so proud to be her representative. The respect for The Queen in Sierra Leone was matched with the respect Sierra Leoneans felt for the late Queen Mother. The home for the elderly in Freetown was named after King George VI and the Queen Mother would send a cheque every year to help support it. On her ninety-ninth birthday I made a point of visiting the home and spending some time with the inmates, not one of whom was as old o
r as active as she was at the time.
We stayed with Bishop Biguzzi in Makeni. He had managed to replace some of the furniture that had been looted. Over supper that night, made from food that we had brought from Freetown, the Bishop reflected on what life had been like in Makeni when he had first arrived there in 1974. At that time there was constant electricity and water, a daily postal and newspaper service and the roads were tarmaced. In the supermarkets he could buy anything. Indeed, there was nothing that he missed from his days in Italy that he could not buy locally – even Italian ice-cream. All this had now gone. Listening to this devout and dedicated cleric, one realized just how far this beautiful country had fallen.
Zainab Bangura had told me how when growing up, a mobile library would visit her small village once a week and another elderly friend described a large department store in Freetown in the 1960s where one could even buy a grand piano. Now there was not even a bookshop in the whole of the country and people could barely find enough rice to eat.
Most of the population of Sierra Leone were too young to be aware of how developed their country had been. Their aspirations were much more fundamental – they just wanted peace and democracy.
Bishop Biguzzi took us to visit a centre for the poor being run by the ‘Sisters of Charity’, Mother Theresa’s order of nuns. One could not help but admire these selfless Christian women who had given up everything to care for the sick and needy, following in the spirit of their remarkable leader. The five nuns from India and Kenya fed hundreds of the poor people of Makeni every day. They lived at the centre very simply. As we walked around talking to the people gathered there, the senior nun told me that Mother Theresa preferred the Sisters to live in single-storey buildings to ensure that the Sisters stayed on the same level as those who they were helping.
Atrocities, Diamonds and Diplomacy Page 14