by Ian Smith
Our hot-pursuit raids on terrorists across the Mozambican border were increasing and proving most successful — it had been proved in many parts of the world that this was the most effective means of dealing with terrorists operating from the safety of a ‘neutral’ adjoining territory. However, we were concerned about reports of women and children in their camps. Once again, it was no easy problem to solve, as the majority of women were trained and used arms. The older women prepared the food and the children carried the supplies. It was explained to me forcibly that it was impossible to separate them, that they were all terrorists, and that part of the communist teaching was to use women and children as a means of protecting the fighting men. It was pointed out that the terrorists had no compunction about killing women and children; indeed that they seemed to show a preference for doing so as part of their trade that made them better terrorists. We sent messages, by pamphlets and word of mouth, warning that all camps were subject to attack and that women and children there should move out. We were unable to think of what more we could do.
The most successful raid of the year was on 9 August against Nyadzonya, one of the terrorists’ main camps about fifty miles east of Umtali. Our recces had been monitoring it for some time, and it was a busy operational area. About seventy Selous Scouts went in, using army transport with Mozambican number plates, and a few Mozambicans who were Portuguese-speaking. There were no problems at the border post and they drove down the main road to Beira for about twenty miles before turning north to their destination. The whole operation went like clockwork. The terrorists were caught off guard and about 500 eliminated, and the camp destroyed. Major road bridges in the vicinity were blown up, and the group returned home without a scratch to man or vehicle. It was certainly a daring operation, but well planned and efficiently executed. The motto of our famous SAS regiment is: ‘Who dares, wins’. It was not carried out by them, but by an equally famous regiment, trained to the same standard of excellence. The success of the operation reverberated around the world, and messages of congratulation came from far and wide — the telephone exchanges were jammed! Our security chiefs informed me that their South African counterparts were strong in their praise and congratulations.
My shock may therefore be imagined when, a day later, Harold Hawkins was summoned by Vorster and given a message in no uncertain terms expressing his disapproval of the raid, claiming that, in his recent meeting with two of my ministers (of Finance and Transport), David Smith and Roger Hawkins, he had warned against this kind of thing. In the report back from these ministers there had been no mention of this, and when I called them in they were taken aback and said this was news to them. Their secretary produced the minutes of the meeting with Vorster; and there was no record of any such discussion. I replied accordingly to Vorster and made it clear that if we renounced our right to hot pursuit, this would be tantamount to abject surrender to terrorism. Was this what we were being asked to do?
This was followed by a message saying that their air force commander (General Rogers) was flying up for an urgent meeting with our OCC. The South African government insisted on an immediate withdrawal of their helicopter crews and signallers who had been working quietly and well with our people for a number of years. Rogers apologised and made it clear that the message he was conveying was a political one, and did not reflect the views of their defence force.
Vorster announced the withdrawal of the helicopter crews on 26 August, but continued to claim that the South Africans were not attempting to influence us in our internal affairs. Jack Gaylard reminded me of the meeting in November 1974, attended by him and Tony Smith, our Attorney General, in Lusaka during the early days of Vorster’s détente. They had discussed the proposal that during the negotiations the terrorists inside Rhodesia should be allowed to remain in their various positions in the field with their arms, i.e. to allow them to continue intimidating and killing innocent Rhodesian tribesmen with impunity. We could understand the Zambians, the terrorist supporters, sponsoring such a monstrous suggestion, but when the two South African government representatives sided with them, this came as a dreadful shock to our two representatives. It was a complete reversal of their previous form, where they had always sided with us against terrorism. But we were now living with this new thing, almost a cult, called détente. It was only the Rhodesians who were on the receiving end; it never applied to South Africa, or to the terrorists.
Obviously, we had many and long discussions on our problems, and on what the future held, not only for ourselves, but for South Africa as well. One of the constant themes which threaded its way through these discussions was our concern that the South Africans had no identifiable long-term objective. They vacillated between appeasing the OAU one day, and then abusing and threatening them the next. One moment Vorster was saying that they had no option other than to abandon apartheid, while others of his ministers were further entrenching it and claiming that it was the only means of preserving the white man and his civilisation. I recalled that at one of our recent meetings in Pretoria Vorster said: ‘If we hadn’t embarked on this détente exercise, we wouldn’t be sitting here holding this meeting tonight.’ He paused for a moment and went on: ‘We have cut the black countries to our north completely in half — they are at one another’s throats.’
I was not the only one who was unable to make head or tail of that, as none of my colleagues could. There was an obvious contradiction at the heart of his statement.
It was a sad and disturbing time for us to observe this change of front on the part of the South African government, especially as we were unable to fathom what they were trying to do. Was this part of a plan, a pact they were trying to make with the free world to enable them to preserve the Republic of South Africa as a bastion of the Western Christian civilisation established by the European settlers? Whether we agreed or not, if we knew what was going on, at least we could try to make a contribution. But we were completely in the dark. In days gone by, Vorster and I would have long and interesting discussions over our plans for the future. But détente had changed this. When I questioned the wisdom of believing that the black leaders to the north would be prepared to accept South Africa with its apartheid philosophy in exchange for assisting in the settlement of the Rhodesian problem, I was accused of being out of touch with the world around me. Yet it was not long afterwards that he informed me, after his return from a visit to Europe, that even his staunchest conservative friends had impressed on him that apartheid was the greatest evil on this earth. South Africa would have to make the necessary changes. Perhaps it was not surprising that our confidence and trust in the South African government was a bit jaded. Vorster was clearly avoiding personal discussions with me and, at one of my meetings with our CIO, I was told that they had been given a clear message from their South African counterparts that Vorster hoped that future meetings, as far as possible, could be arranged with my Minister of Finance, David Smith, on the pretext that the discussions had financial implications. Evidently David was not in the habit of asking searching questions! More serious than that, direct pressure was exerted, through a comment to Harold Hawkins ‘in confidence’, that Vorster found it difficult to accept P.K. van der Byl as our Minister of Defence, dealing with such highly confidential and sensitive matters. The issue at stake was P.K.’s comments to the press over the removal of the helicopter crews, which had infuriated Vorster. In addition, still fresh in the minds of the National Party were the memories of his father, a leading member of General Smuts’s opposition in the South African Parliament, one of the strongest critics of their government. That was going back almost thirty years — I could not believe it! However, I was assured that if we wished to maintain our favourable relations and the smooth supply of our requirements it would be advisable to heed the warning. Clearly, I had no option, and on 9 September, in a cabinet shuffle, I gave Reginald Cowper Defence but kept P.K. as my Foreign Minister. We noted, again, that there was no attempt to interfere in our internal affa
irs!
While our military successes were escalating and the morale of our people was high, there were moments of deep concern, even depression, among those of us who knew what was going on in the minds of our South African friends. The strongest feelings emanated from my Afrikaans-speaking ministers, who clearly found it more difficult to reconcile themselves with the obvious about-face.
In the first week in September, I received a visit from Daantjie Olivier, the South African Ambassador in Salisbury, bringing me a message from Vorster, asking me to come down to Pretoria with a couple of my ministers to hear a plan which they had worked out with Henry Kissinger, the US Secretary of State, and which Vorster believed was reasonable. We were aware that since February 1976, Kissinger had expressed an interest in solving the Rhodesian impasse and had discussed it with the British. Indeed, he adopted proposals put forward by Callaghan and had set out to sell them. He had toured African capitals in April and May and had conferred with Vorster in Bavaria in June and on 4 September in Zürich.
On the morning of 13 September 1976, as Kissinger began a much-publicised tour of Africa, we went to the Pioneer Day Raising of the Flag Ceremony at Cecil Square. As usual it was a dignified, happy occasion involving prayers and a short talk from the attending parson, with many people gathered around in silence, paying their respects on this solemn occasion. Nothing flamboyant, just a simple acknowledgement of the arrival of the pioneer column a mere eighty-six years previously, and the raising of the Union Jack to signal the establishment of another outpost of the British Empire. Visitors to our country invariably comment on the high standards of civilisation which have been built up in such a short space of time.
I selected David Smith, my Finance Minister, and Roger Hawkins, the Minister of Transport, to accompany me on the trip to meet Vorster. Hawkins was needed because South Africa was said to be experiencing transport bottlenecks, which were affecting our vital supplies, all part of Vorster’s arm-twisting. After lunch, we flew down to Pretoria, where we were met by Harold Hawkins and taken to his home, where we had dinner and talked long into the night. Next morning we were off to Union Buildings for our meeting with Vorster, H. Muller and P.W. Botha. We were asked to wait at the entrance to the office for a few minutes while TV cameras were set up, and then there was a great fuss made of our entrance, much shaking of hands and smiling at one another — something we had never experienced previously, but no doubt all part of the subterfuge to demonstrate to the South African people the friendly and co-operative relations which existed between our two governments.
The meeting started with Vorster giving his usual long dirge on the problems facing the white man in southern Africa, and how important it was for us to try and assist one another. He hoped that we would concede that South Africa had done much to help Rhodesia, and he assured us that they would continue to the best of their ability. If it had not been for the fact that I knew it would have been to the detriment of my country, I would have asked how he reconciled this with the withdrawal of the South African police from the Zambezi, the holding back of our essential supplies in order to pressurise us into supporting his détente, the protests over our cross-border raids to eliminate terrorists who were murdering our innocent civilians, the vindictive withdrawal of the helicopter crews and the signallers.
Vorster then went on to say that he had warned Kissinger that we were a proud and brave nation, and that if there was an attempt to push us too far we would fight to the last man, and there would be nothing left in Rhodesia. Kissinger had replied that he was well aware of these facts, and for this reason had refused to accept some of the conditions put forward by the British, thus compelling them to make certain concessions. Vorster said he had to admit that the offer did not measure up to the kind of thing we were looking for, but that it was necessary for us to face up to the facts of life as far as the white man in southern Africa was concerned and this applied to South Africa as well. If we were not prepared to accept this offer of the hand of friendship from our only friends in this world, Vorster warned, then we would be on our own, with sanctions tightening, terrorism increasing, and finally the Russians coming in.
I found the case unconvincing — we were satisfied that our terrorists had come to the conclusion that they desired a settlement, we were riding sanctions fairly comfortably, and the thought of the Russians coming into these parts smacked of panic. We had often received strong messages from our various contacts to the effect that, if the Russians attempted to expand their operations beyond Angola, this would provoke a confrontation with the UK and the USA. Indeed the South African military chiefs had reiterated the same message. I subsequently confirmed in my diary that it was in 1971 that Vorster said: ‘The next two years are the most vital — if we can see those through, then sanctions will be meaningless.’
However, all this had now been overtaken by détente, and trying to live in the past did not help. As the record clearly showed, Rhodesians were prepared for change, and our performance was straight and consistent. It was the others around us who were constantly vacillating.
Vorster then went on to explain the kind of plan that Kissinger would bring — it was a bit disjointed, as he was picking out parts from notes before him, and it appeared to us that he was leaving out what he did not want to divulge. The first step was to set up a council of state consisting of three whites and three blacks, with a white chairman. They would be given two years to work out a new constitution, which had to lead to majority rule. The plan had the backing of Kaunda and Nyerere, and that guaranteed its acceptance. The free world would provide a trust fund of two billion dollars to guarantee pensions and foreign exchange for those who wished to leave the country. Once more we were reminded: ‘If this fails we will not be able to pick up the threads again. The writing will be on the wall for the white man in southern Africa.’
We decided to break for lunch to give us time to consider, and then to return to give our views. Before departing I stressed that it should be made clear to Kissinger, and indeed all and sundry, that every constitution in the history of Rhodesia led to majority rule, and in all the negotiations we had never asked for anything else. Vorster nodded his head in agreement, and then said: ‘They are looking for a quickening of the pace.’ I replied that this had never been absent from any negotiation in which we had participated. As he knew, it was part of the talks I had with Nkomo earlier that year. Again he nodded his head in agreement.
Over lunch we came to the conclusion that it would probably be a good thing to bring the Americans in, since this might have a stabilising effect on the South Africans. I never thought the day would come when I would say that. And, we concluded, until we were given the whole picture by Kissinger, we were unable to make an assessment. We returned to Union Buildings and gave them our thoughts, and I asked Vorster to impress on Kissinger that if they tried to push us too far, rather than accepting abject surrender, we would face the consequences. I pointed out that the kind of changes envisaged would involve amendments to the constitution, necessitating a two-thirds majority in Parliament. This surprised Vorster. And, I continued, they would be wrong to presume that this was a foregone conclusion. We would hold ourselves available for future meetings. I realised that there would be no point in delaying matters, because our black nationalists would have received the message as to what was taking place, and accordingly would not come forward for further discussions. To that extent we had had the rug pulled out from under our feet.
On the flight home there was little talk. We were all deep in thought, wondering what tomorrow would offer. There would be nothing coming from the South Africans — we could only hope that Kissinger would be better. His recent remarks in Lusaka were not encouraging, and I had received a book from some interested person in America entitled: Kissinger — Communist Agent! But it was virtually Hobson’s choice for us — what a desperate position for the poor Rhodesians. I had no difficulty in dealing with our enemies, but when it came to our friends …! I only hope that
when the crunch comes for them, as it inevitably must, they will be prepared to make a stand.
Between 15 and 17 September we were at Umtali for our annual congress. The timing could not have been better, because I wished to update them on the situation, and ascertain whether I had their support. There had been a bit of wild talk from a few of our members, including Desmond Frost, the party chairman, who were questioning the need for negotiations. As we had not yet met Kissinger and accepted or rejected his proposals, any details were obviously sub judice, but I was able to give delegates a general direction, and apprise them of the overall difficult situation with which we and, indeed, the whole of southern Africa, were confronted. After my speech and the debate which followed, I received warm, unanimous support, and when Frost was challenged from the floor to show his hand, his full support was also forthcoming. When we returned to the hotel to collect our baggage, written in chalk across the big glass door at the hall entrance were the words: ‘That will be the Frosty Friday!’ It was Friday the seventeenth. And a clear message to Chairman Frost!
The previous night after dinner had been my first opportunity to brief my cabinet colleagues on the talks in Pretoria — not surprisingly, they were stunned. One question was: ‘Does Vorster still deny that he is using us as the sacrificial lamb?’ In the end we came to the conclusion that we had to make the best of the situation confronting us, and until we received the terms from Kissinger it was difficult to come to any conclusions. There was a discussion on Kissinger the man, but nobody could offer any firm views, until someone said: ‘He can only be an improvement on Vorster!’