A short time later, despite the apparent stabilization in Khobe’s condition, word came through that he had died in a Lagos hospital. The President declared seven days of national mourning. News of Khobe’s death sent a shockwave around the country. I sent a report to London eulogising Maxwell Khobe and his contribution to Sierra Leone’s struggle for peace and democracy, and warned of the heightened tension in the country. My warnings were somewhat dismissed. Although the Foreign Office recognized the potential dangers over a precipitable withdrawal of the Ecomog forces before the full deployment of the UN, they found it difficult to accept that individual personalities could have such an impact upon the situation.
We thus prepared for our departure against the backcloth of the heightened tension in the country. The UNAMSIL deployment was still going slowly, as was the disarmament programme. Sankoh continued to prevaricate. Many people feared a security vacuum would be created between Ecomog’s withdrawal and UNAMSIL’s full deployment, which would be exploited by the rebels. Khobe’s death and my departure contributed to these fears. The Sierra Leone people were nervous but felt powerless to do anything themselves.
During the final week a special session of the Sierra Leone Parliament was convened, to which I was invited. I was led into the body of the chamber behind Hon Speaker Justice Kutiba and the Sergeant at Arms carrying the mace and was seated below the Speaker’s dais. To one side of the Speaker sat Celia and up in the gallery were members of the diplomatic corps and other friends. The Leader of the Opposition, the Hon Raymond Kamara, rose to propose a motion lauding my efforts to promote and sustain democracy in Sierra Leone. Other Honorary Members spoke in support of the motion. Ramadan Dumbuya, leader of one of the minority parties, spoke of my efforts to teach the people of Sierra Leone what democracy meant. He quoted from my speeches on how to make ‘democracy soup’. The acting Leader of the House wound up the debate and the motion was passed. As I left the chamber the strains of my song rang out over the Tannoy system – No more guns, no more killing.... Peace and Democracy, that is what we want to see, here in Salone.
I reflected that I had now been summoned twice to appear before a parliament. In Britain it was to answer charges against me of breaking UN sanctions. Here in Sierra Leone it was to be lauded for my efforts to bring peace and democracy to a poor African country. What a topsy-turvy world!
During the final week I had effectively left the running of the mission in the hands of Steve Crossman but I continued to look in each day to check the telegrams and speak to Steve and the other members of staff. I completed my valedictory despatch to the Secretary of State, which I entitled (with apologies to Graham Greene) ‘Sierra Leone: The Heart of the Matter – The Struggle for Democracy’. In it I reviewed the events of the previous three years. I noted how of little relevance Sandline had been to events in Sierra Leone, although it had sadly dominated HMG’s actions towards the country for so long.
Sadly, the practice of outgoing ambassadors and High Commissioners sending valedictory despatches was brought to an end by the Foreign Office under Margaret Beckett in 2006. Too many were being leaked to the press and embarrassing the government but Matthew Parris was later able to make a BBC radio series and write a book entitled Parting Shots by making use of the Freedom of Information Act to obtain copies of the more colourful despatches.
I also issued a farewell message to the people of Sierra Leone:
The past three years have been very eventful. I have much admired the fortitude and resilience shown by the Sierra Leone people, and through adversity, my wife and I have developed so many close friends among you. We will leave with many memories, both happy and sad. To have shared in your struggle for peace and democracy will forever remain in our hearts and minds. Celia and I wish each and every one of you the peace and happiness you have suffered so much for. You will remain in our thoughts and prayers, until we meet again.
Our last reception at the residence had been The Queen’s Birthday Party, which we had held just days previously. This had provided an opportunity to say farewell to the staff in a social setting but there was one final ceremony to perform in the office. I had suggested that we should have one last parade of the local guard force. These were our ‘unsung heroes’. It was they who, through all weathers, day and night, turned up for work to protect our offices and personnel. On many an occasion their lives had been threatened during the dark days of the junta and the events of January 1999. If it had not been for them, under the direction of Solomon, we would not have had our offices and homes still standing. It would have been so easy for them to have just abandoned their posts but they did not. I wanted to show that their loyalty had not gone unnoticed. With the assistance of the close protection team I arranged for individual certificates of service to be printed. On the final Friday in front of the steps of the High Commission offices the guards mounted a parade, and each one proudly stepped forward and was presented with his or her certificate. The local television was on hand to film the ceremony.
My very last duty was to say farewell to President Kabbah. I picked Celia up from the residence and together we drove up to Hill Station Lodge. The TV cameras were on hand to record the meeting, which was somewhat more stiff and formal compared to the endless meetings we had had together. For the benefit of the cameras the President thanked me for all that I had done for his country and the people of Sierra Leone, and for himself personally. He said that he hoped it would not be too long before I returned and that he would even donate a piece of his land in Freetown on which I could build a retirement home (an offer soon forgotten). As a parting gift I presented him with a book of pictures painted by members of the Association of Mouth and Foot Painting Artists in Britain. I suggested that this was a reminder that even in adversity when people lose their limbs there is still hope, and that they can still perform useful and talented lives.
The next morning, after Zainab Bangura had joined us for breakfast, we said our fond farewells to Osman and the rest of the residence staff and drove through the gates for the last time. To my surprise forty or more cars were waiting for us outside. As we drove in a cavalcade to the ferry terminal, people lined the route, which had been announced over Radio 98.1. They waved and we waved back. At the ferry there were hundreds more waiting to say goodbye, including Chief Soluku, head of the Council of Chiefs. He said, ‘You arrived by car and you are leaving by ferry. That shows that you are truly a man of the people.’
Clutching Zainab’s and Mammy Noah’s hands, Celia was followed to the ferry by all the market women singing and dancing. I danced too, going backwards down the slope. Symbolically I did not want to turn my back on Sierra Leone. My West African Home was playing over the ferry’s Tannoy system.
The ferry pulled away and Celia and I held one another as we looked down on the crowds waving from the ferry terminal. We gazed at the green hills overlooking Freetown. The sun was shining and the water was sparkling. Paddy Warren used to say that it was this sight, which he had seen thirty years previously when he had first arrived, that made him decide to stay and make Sierra Leone his home. I could see why. It was an inspiring sight, one to remember forever.
Farewell Sierra Leone.
Chapter Thirteen
British Forces and Blood Diamonds
Three days after we had left Sierra Leone the RUF launched attacks on the UN peacekeeping forces in the northern towns of Makeni and Magburaka. Four Kenyan soldiers were killed and several others injured. Dozens of UN personnel were held hostage, including three British and one New Zealand officers. They managed to escape and one of the officers, Major Phil Ashby, wrote about his exploits in his book Unscathed – Escape from Sierra Leone. The DDR camps in these towns, set up and funded by Britain, were completely vandalized and destroyed. A battalion of Zambian troops, which had been arriving at Lungi Airport to join UNAMSIL the day that we had left, was stopped in two separate incidents by young RUF rebels and relieved of all their weapons and transport, including a number of armoured
personnel carriers (APCs). In Kailahun, in the east, RUF rebels surrounded the Indian peacekeepers stationed there, which included another British officer, Major Andy Harrison. It would be several months before his release was secured.
From his house in Freetown Foday Sankoh denied that his men were responsible for launching the attacks or that they were holding UN hostages. Hundreds of Sierra Leoneans marched on Sankoh’s house to protest at the RUF actions. The RUF guarding Sankoh opened fire on the crowds, while the UN forces guarding the house withdrew. The crowds ransacked the house destroying or looting all the furniture provided by the British Government. In the mayhem Sankoh escaped and went into hiding.
From our hotel in Tunisia, where we were spending some leave en route back to the UK, we tried to follow events on the television and in the Tunisian newspapers. It was very worrying and frustrating. We telephoned several friends in Freetown who were clearly nervous about the developments. Some expressed the view that our departure, linked with the untimely death of Maxwell Khobe and set against the vacuum between the Ecomog withdrawal and the UNAMSIL deployment, had precipitated the attacks by the RUF – a fact allegedly confirmed later by Sankoh to some of his followers. I telephoned President Kabbah. He tried to play down the seriousness of the situation saying that it was just ‘a personality clash’ between Sankoh and General Jetley, the UNAMSIL commander.
The latter had been vilified for suggesting in a leaked document that some of the Nigerian soldiers were engaged in illicit diamond mining in connivance with Sankoh. The Nigerians demanded Jetley’s removal and the UN later acquiesced, which led to the Indian government withdrawing its contribution to the UNAMSIL force. None of this helped the increasing friction between Ecomog and the UN.
Five days after our departure, my successor, Alan Jones, arrived with his wife Daphne and presented his credentials. The next day, before Alan had even unpacked, Robin Cook ordered the evacuation of the British community. One thousand British Paratroopers under the command of David Richards were flown out to assist the evacuation, which went by the name of Operation Palliser.
Operation Palliser
The objectives of Operation Palliser were to secure Lungi Airport and to assist UNAMSIL in defending parts of Freetown, including the Mammy Yoko Hotel and the British High Commission offices and residence. Twenty-nine RAF Hercules and four Tristar aircraft were deployed along with HMS Ocean and her ten helicopters. HMS Ocean was later joined by the aircraft carrier HMS Illustrious, with her thirteen Harrier jets and five helicopters, and five more Royal Navy ships. It was one of the largest British naval flotillas deployed since the liberation of the Falklands back in 1982.
In all, 353 people were evacuated, mostly British and European nationals. The Defence Secretary, Geoff Hoon, informed the House of Commons that the cost of Operation Palliser had been some £8 million. It was interesting to reflect that three years previously we had effected the evacuation of ten times this number of evacuees without the assistance of British troops and at far less cost.
It was extremely fortunate that Operation Palliser was under the command of an officer of the calibre of David Richards, with his knowledge of the situation and his experience and commitment. David Richards knew that with the resources available he could do more than just assist an evacuation. As he later told the Sierra Leone Special Court, he realized that he could actively stabilize the situation and, after ten uneasy days, he obtained London’s permission to do so. He moved the British troops into key positions to the east of Freetown and to the east of Lungi Airport and conducted an offensive operation against the rebels, assisted by Ecomog, the CDF and those elements of the Sierra Leone army, who, at the urging of Johnny Paul Koroma, had declared their loyalty to the government. Just co-ordinating such a disparate group of forces entailed using both immense military and diplomatic skills.
David Richards’ actions through Operation Palliser eased the tensions in the country and the spirits of the Sierra Leone people were further lifted when Sankoh was captured, beaten up and put into detention.
By mid-June, when David Richards had returned to the UK, he and the British forces had bought enough time for the UN to start its operation again effectively. The UN increased the size of its forces to over 16,000, including a contingent of Jordanian troops – the largest deployment of a UN peacekeeping force in the world. UNAMSIL launched Operation Thunderbolt to clear the road leading to Lungi and retook Masiaka. Elements of the rebel Sierra Leone soldiers, the West Side Boys, took to the Occra Hills.
Robin Cook visited Sierra Leone, staying on board HMS Ocean alongside a contingent of Royal Marines who had replaced the Paras. It was almost laughable that he had waited until I had left before paying his first visit to the country with which he had become so involved. Robin Cook’s visit was quickly followed by visits by Geoff Hoon and John Prescott, the Deputy Prime Minister.
Operation Barras
At the end of August a group of eleven soldiers from the Royal Irish Regiment and one Sierra Leone army soldier had gone into the Occra Hills to disarm the group of renegade Sierra Leone soldiers hiding there. Instead, the West Side Boys disarmed the British soldiers, tortured them and held them hostage. Alarm bells were rung back in London. Attempts were made to negotiate but although five of the hostages were released in exchange for a satellite phone and medical supplies, the West Side Boys, flattered by the international attention they were receiving, continued to increase their unrealistic demands and threatened to kill the remaining hostages. The decision was made to secure their release by force. Operation Barras was launched.
The hostages were being held in a small village, Gberi Bana, on the north side of the Rokel Creek. Surrounded by swamp and jungle, the rebel camp was well fortified by the rebel group under the command of the 22-year-old ‘Brigadier’ Kallay and numbered around 200, well armed and ‘well high’ on drugs.
On 10 September, in a well prepared and professionally executed operation, a team of SAS, backed by a contingent from the 1st Battalion of the Parachute Regiment and RAF Lynx Attack and Chinook helicopters, attacked the rebel force, which fought back fiercely. Sadly, one member of the SAS was killed in the action. At least twenty-five, probably more, of the West Side Boys were killed.
Fred Marafono, now under contract to the Sierra Leone government as part of the government’s Air Wing, comprising two Mi-24 helicopters flown by Juba and another South African pilot, Neall Ellis, was on hand to help the members of his former regiment.
All the hostages were released safely in what the Ministry of Defence described as ‘a very challenging operation ... of great complexity’. Tony Blair said, ‘I cannot pay high enough tribute to the skill, the professionalism and the courage of the armed forces involved.’ Rightly so. A book written by William Fowler, entitled Operation Barras, the SAS Rescue Mission: Sierra Leone 2000, would chronicle all the events.
Blood Diamonds
Much was also happening on the international front. At the beginning of July the UN Security Council adopted Resolution 1306, which imposed an embargo on the sale of rough Sierra Leone diamonds. Several observers had argued that the Sierra Leone rebel war was solely a fight for control of the diamond wealth of Sierra Leone. This was a gross misrepresentation and basically wrong. However, there was no doubt that diamonds had helped fuel and prolong the conflict. The RUF had been able to purchase its arms and ammunition with the diamonds, which had attracted a nefarious group of arms dealers and shady businessmen from around the world. Charles Taylor, in particular, had benefitted from the barter of Sierra Leone diamonds in exchange for military equipment and personnel, and for his political support. Much later he would be accused of giving the supermodel Naomi Campbell some diamonds (‘dirty-looking stones’) when they met in South Africa.
The British-sponsored UN resolution made it illegal to buy Sierra Leone diamonds unless they were accompanied by a certificate of origin issued by the government. This became known as the ‘Kimberley Process’ and would be expanded t
o cover other countries in Africa such as Angola and Zimbabwe. The international diamond industry, which for so long had turned a blind eye to ‘conflict diamonds’, was forced to adhere to the internationally regulated practice. President Kabbah was keen to use the diamond wealth to boost the development of the country and, with the tacit approval of the British Government, he had meetings with private security companies to talk about protecting the diamond mining areas once they had been retaken from the rebels.
The enforcement of the ban on ‘conflict diamonds’ played a significant role in ending the eleven-year rebel war. However, it would take a further show of force from the British military to secure the final end to the fighting. David Richards and his team returned to Sierra Leone in the autumn of 2000, forcing the RUF to agree to a ceasefire in late October. He would later say: ‘What transpired ... was a fascinating example of modern-day intervention operations in an uncertain environment. It started as a NEO (Non-combatant Evacuation Order) but developed into something that has characteristics between counterinsurgency and small-scale war-fighting operations.’
Elsewhere on the international stage, as had happened the previous year with Kosovo, events in Yugoslavia overshadowed events in Sierra Leone as Milosevic was overthrown by his people.
Throughout all these events I sat on the river bank at Abingdon and contemplated my future. At no time were my views or experience sought by the Foreign Office. In the absence of any prospect of a further overseas posting, I was seconded for a year to DFID, at Clare Short’s request, as a conflict adviser.
Atrocities, Diamonds and Diplomacy Page 28