Bitter Harvest

by Ian Smith

  But what had he been doing over the past few hours other than pressurise me over our internal affairs? And what made it all the more reprehensible was that he was using a dishonest, concocted story in order to support his case. What were they doing when they delayed the delivery of our ammunition supplies, other than giving us the message as to what would happen if we did not pay attention to their wishes? And there had been similar cases with the delivery of fuel. What I could not tolerate was the deviousness. We fully understood the position we were in, and how we relied on them. Whether we liked it or not, we were sensible, practical people, and we went out of our way to avoid confrontation. Relations between our security forces could not be better. I had often spoken to their security chiefs on their visits to Rhodesia, and in confidential discussions they assured me of how well they worked with the Rhodesians. In my relations with Vorster, I said, we had never had a difference of opinion — certainly he had never mentioned such a thing. If something was wrong, if we were out of step, why not say so in a straightforward honest way? And we could try to put it right, and if need be make counter-suggestions. How could we deal with a problem if we did not know what the problem was?

  Vorster said that lunch was prepared and asked me to join them, but I simply could not have faced up to that, so I used the pretext that there was pressing work back home, and I would have a snack on the plane. As I walked out towards the front door, Mrs Vorster came across and greeted me. She pleaded with me to have some lunch before going to the aircraft. She was a genuine and kind person whom we always held in high regard and I sensed that she was aware of the content of the message that Vorster and his colleagues had passed on to me, and her whole attitude was one of sadness and compassion. As she held my hand I thanked her for her kindness, but assured her that my time had run out.

  Driving with me to the airport, Hawkins and Gaylard were shocked at my account of the meeting. Hawkins was particularly irate, as he had been in close contact with Brand Fourie (cabinet secretary) over the past week planning the meeting between the two prime ministers, as always in the past, and there had been no suggestion of any other ministers being present — this was pure deceit. Moreover, there had not even been a whisper about the concern of troops fighting for a cause other than apartheid. These people were obsessed with one thing, according to Hawkins, détente, and this was a blatant attempt to ensure that I got the message, and that Rhodesia would not step out of line. I asked Hawkins if he knew of any case where we had stepped out of line, or if he had heard any rumblings in that direction? Absolutely not, he replied, and he and the other Rhodesians at the mission had such genuine and strong contacts with the South Africans, both in Cape Town and Pretoria, that they would have picked up any such information or feelings.

  So the picture was clear. The local politicians wanted us to make greater progress towards our settlement: this was what the front-line presidents (of Angola, Botswana, Mozambique, Tanzania and Zambia) expected as South Africa’s contribution to détente. The predicament of the South African side was that they were unable to indicate precisely what they wanted us to do. Any attempt to bring the matter out in public would land them in hot water for acting in conflict with their declared stand of no interference in the internal affairs of other countries, and the South African public and their own Members of Parliament would be up in arms. So they had to resort to underhand means. Hawkins believed that the majority of their cabinet were not in the picture, and there could be trouble in gaining their support for such action, especially as the deceit associated with the tactics would be patently obvious. Foreign Affairs were the principal players in the scheming and conniving, and because of Vorster’s obsession with détente they found him a willing partner. Kruger was easy to manipulate, but P.W. Botha must have been a reluctant participant, because the security forces would never subscribe to this. When I told of my question asking if the problem would be solved if Rhodesia changed its policy into alignment with South African apartheid, Hawkins immediately interjected: ‘That must have made the blood run from their faces!’

  Our adoption of apartheid would have destroyed the main plank of détente: the imminence of a black government in Rhodesia that was being dangled before Kaunda and Nyerere. What a feather in their caps if the South Africans could deliver this, and in return receive a pledge concerning an end to terrorist incursions into South Africa, and establish friendly relations with the governments to the north. My comment was that I could not believe that the South Africans were so naïve as to fall for this, when the evidence before them was so clear. Communists were masters at the craft of extracting concessions from their opponents, and then reneging on their part of the contract. If they were challenged they simply waved a mocking hand, claiming that this was compensation for past exploitation by the white man.

  The subservience of Vorster and Hilgard Muller to the demands of the black terrorist leaders to their north was something I found incomprehensible. One could understand it, although not condone it, from British politicians, but South African, especially die-hard members of the National Party! Gaylard said that what shocked him was how suddenly the whole scene had become infested with treachery and intrigue. We would have to get to the bottom of it, and he was convinced that our investigations in Salisbury and those of Hawkins in Cape Town and Pretoria would disclose that it was nothing more than a confidence trick.

  As we flew home — a long journey chugging along in the old Viscount — I wrote my diary of the meeting, as was my custom. As I would be giving my cabinet colleagues a comprehensive briefing the next day, I was happy to have time to ponder over this unusual event, try to fathom the reason for it and, above all, plan future strategy. We were obviously confronted by a profound change in South African thinking, and it seemed to me that this would necessitate dramatic and traumatic replanning of tactics and, in particular, our long-term objectives.

  Above all, I was unable to fathom why they had suddenly abandoned the direct and honest approach, the trust which had always been there. I had never shown any reluctance or resentment when facing up to tough and difficult decisions. How many times did we do this with the British? And it was continuing. That’s part of politics. It was only a few months before that I had accepted Vorster’s request to release our detainees, in spite of my reservations. There was deep concern from many of my cabinet and caucus members, because of their belief that the South Africans did not fully understand the scene, and were getting out of their depth. Some went so far as to claim that the South Africans were using us for their own ends. However, I stressed the need to retain our faith and trust and reminded my team that, since one could not guarantee success in politics, we had to try to reduce risk to a minimum. We stuck to our part of the plan. And this had happened on more than one occasion: we talked, argued, finalised the best conclusion, and got on with it. What was the problem, I kept on asking myself. What had happened to bring about this dreadful change? A situation of mutual trust and respect and genuine friendship had now been changed to a position where there was obvious deceit, leading to suspicion and distrust. Any attempt by Vorster to make amends for what had happened, to correct the situation, would not change the history of what had taken place. While it would be possible for the wound to heal, the scar would remain for all time.

  My cabinet colleagues were deeply shocked at the message I brought back. I urged them to take time and think deeply. When we came back for deliberations the following week, the general consensus was that Vorster was obviously trying to pressurise us to accommodate him over détente, and that our best tactic would be to await further developments.

  There followed a visit from South African security chiefs, who made the trip specifically because they had received a report of the Cape Town meeting. They debunked Vorster’s story and on their return took the issue up with their minister, P.W. Botha, who admitted his embarrassment at what had taken place. The generals made it clear that they took exception to politicians manipulating the security force
s for their own convenience, and especially when this involved bending the truth, since it made fools of them in front of their Rhodesian counterparts. On a subsequent visit of mine to South Africa, when I broached the question with a few of the cabinet ministers with whom I was in contact, they were obviously taken aback and ignorant of the situation of which I spoke, in spite of the fact that Vorster had informed me that he was presenting the case after careful consideration by his cabinet!

  It was shortly after my Cape Town visit that Chitepo, one of the black nationalist leaders living in Lusaka, was killed by a bomb explosion. I was briefed that his death was a product of the inter-factional strife within ZANU. This seemed to be confirmed when the head of ZANU’s armed wing, Josiah Tongogara, was arrested in Zambia and imprisoned by Kaunda for the murder. Then a judicial commission of enquiry, set up by the Zambian government, found that Tongogara and others were responsible. I (and everyone else) learned later, when Ken Flower of the CIO published his memoirs in the 1980s, that he and the CIO had concluded that the assassination of Chitepo would serve to broaden the rifts between the terrorist organisations and their supporters. And, at least in the short-term, Flower was right: the death of Chitepo sowed deep suspicions among the terrorist ranks.

  For some time we had accumulated considerable evidence of dissension along tribal lines among the Shona-speaking terrorists in Mozambique, accompanied by fighting and even killings. Their supply lines and communications were bad, and there was lack of leadership and direction from the top, as the political leaders were competing for control. Our security forces had made contact with a number of terrorist leaders who were showing interest in coming to an accommodation with us. Their food and other supplies were short; the local Mozambicans, who were themselves short of food, resented the intrusion of foreigners who made additional demands on their meagre supplies; and, probably most important of all, the Rhodesian security forces were having great success in the war against the terrorists, and their kill-rate had reached the highest peak ever.

  For all these reasons our security chiefs and their ministers were not enamoured of Vorster’s détente capers. Obviously any successes in this direction would have the effect of strengthening terrorist morale, and encouraging them to stand together. They presented their case convincingly. Clearly, this placed me in a dilemma. My logic and reasoning was to support them, and urge them to step up their campaign, which was proving so successful, and request that Vorster hold back for a while on his détente exercise. But it was obvious that this would have proved disastrous. Not only had I supported Vorster in his plan, but our officials were co-operating and working with the South Africans. Any attempt by me to delay the plan, especially after the recent Cape Town meeting, would play right into Vorster’s hands and enable him to accuse me of going back on my word.

  It was our belief that the South Africans were misjudging the situation and were walking into a trap. This was, however, a matter of opinion and we could be wrong. Therefore, we obviously would have been on shaky ground if we had tried to get the South Africans to change course, especially in the new circumstances where, I think it is fair to say, they were even prepared to resort to a bit of ‘blackmail’. This was a classic example of double dealing, with the South Africans saying publicly that they had no intention of interfering in our affairs and telling us how to solve our problems, while at the same time pressurising us to support them in their scheming to make South Africa more acceptable to the rest of the world. We were able to stand our ground with any other country if they were trying to pressurise us to accept conditions which were not in Rhodesia’s interests. South Africa, however, controlled our lifeline and had already made it clear to us that, if need be, they were prepared to use this control to force us to co-operate. Thus we had little choice in the matter.

  At the official meetings taking place with the South Africans, the Rhodesians tactfully suggested that time appeared to be on our side because of new developments of contacts with terrorist leaders in Mozambique, and that there could be advantages in allowing time to put this to the test. However, these suggestions were brushed aside by the South Africans, who clearly had no intention of deviating from their course. We were presented with Vorster’s latest brainchild: a meeting in a South African Railways saloon parked on the middle line of the Victoria Falls Bridge, half on the Rhodesian side, half on the Zambian side. This was a bizarre attempt to appease Kaunda and the Rhodesian blacks who were using him as a stalking horse to gain concessions via South African government pressure on Rhodesia.

  Part of the South African pressure on us to co-operate with them came as a result of their ill-fated interest in Angola, where they were planning a large-scale incursion with the agreement of the USA. In return for American support for the Angolan operation, Vorster agreed to withdraw the South African police detachments from Rhodesia, part of an obvious attempt to appease Kaunda and Nyerere. In the beginning of August 1974, I received an early-morning phone call informing me that the South Africans were pulling out. I replied that it was difficult to believe this in view of the fact that Vorster had given me a categorical assurance that no police would be withdrawn until he had personally discussed the issue with me. There must be some mistake, I declared, and as soon as I arrived at my office we would get a message off to Pretoria. I was assured there was no mistake; the main part of the convoy had passed through Bulawayo in the early hours of the morning, and the vanguard was already at Beit Bridge. Clearly, they had decided to travel during the hours of darkness so that they would be over the border before the matter was brought to our attention. The response which I received from Vorster, which did not arrive until the following day, simply indicated that this had been done as part of the détente exercise, in return for which there would be benefits for all of us who lived in this part of southern Africa. There was no comment on the breach of the undertaking which he had given me. In all honesty we should have been informed. No doubt it would have been an embarrassment to admit that we had been used as a pawn in a South African game.

  Nevertheless, in pursuit of an accommodation of our problems, I visited Vorster in Pretoria and, on 9 August, committed the Rhodesian government to attending a formal conference without any pre-conditions with the ANC at the Victoria Falls before 25 August. Mark Chona, the Zambian Foreign Minister, signed on behalf of our African nationalists in the ANC. The agreement was:

  (a) The Rhodesian Government through its ministerial representatives and the ANC through their appointed representatives will meet not later than 25 August on the Victoria Falls Bridge in coaches to be supplied by the South African Government for a formal conference without any preconditions.

  (b) The object of the formal meeting is to give the parties the opportunity to express publicly their genuine desire to negotiate an acceptable settlement.

  (c) After this the conference to adjourn to enable the parties to discuss proposals for a settlement in committee or committees within Rhodesia.

  (d) Thereafter the parties to meet again in formal conference anywhere decided upon to ratify the committee proposals which have been agreed upon.

  (e) The South African Government and the Governments of Botswana, Mozambique, Tanzania and Zambia, respectively, hereby express their willingness to ensure that this agreement is implemented by the two parties involved.

  I signed, but I was amazed at the impracticality of the South African plan of trying to fit everyone into a railway coach with a conference table down the centre surrounded by chairs. We would have no problem, as my delegation would amount to five, but on the other side would be the four factions, each with about a dozen hangers-on, all determined to make their contributions. Why not use the nearby Victoria Falls Hotel, an ideal conference centre which Kaunda himself had attended for the conference handling the break-up of the Federation? The South Africans conceded that it was done in order to placate the black extremists, who were averse to attending a conference on Rhodesian soil — in spite of the agreement in Lusaka
on 11 December 1974 that negotiations should take place in Rhodesia. In reply to a query from me, Vorster simply stated that as the plan had already been laid and the others had all agreed, he hoped I would not obstruct. Clearly, I had been compromised.

  As the preparations continued an additional reason for the Falls Bridge plan became obvious: the South Africans were determined to be in the foreground, in order to gain for themselves maximum credit for any resulting success. Hence the use of South African Railways facilities, and the position of ‘no-man’s land’ in the middle of the bridge which they would not have achieved at the Victoria Falls Hotel. Not only were they pressurising us into going along with their scheming, they were now involving themselves in planning the details, and the more we observed the plans they were making, the more convinced we became that they would end in disaster.

  Our information sources had been well established in Lusaka over the years and been proved to be highly reliable. They told us that the various factions had not reconciled their differences, were not prepared to accept Muzorewa as leader, and were determined to ensure that the conference did not succeed. I drew this to Vorster’s attention, and in reply he assured me that the plan was underpinned by both Kaunda and Nyerere, and there was no doubt that the opposing elements from their side would be firmly put in line — surely it was obvious that they dare not confront the northern leaders on whom they relied totally for their existence. It sounded good on paper, but our chaps in Lusaka were adamant that it was no more than a papering over of the cracks. We continued to get worrying reports from our officials who were working with their South African counterparts. They said that, when they put forward differing proposals, they were eventually confronted with the words: ‘If you don’t like what we are offering, you always have the alternative of going it alone!’ Into the bargain, there continued worrying reports of lapses in the supply of strategic essentials from South Africa. More subtle blackmail!