Bitter Harvest

by Ian Smith

  I recall our Prime Minister, Lord Malvern, shortly before his retirement in 1956, recounting to us the events of his last prime ministers’ conference. The question of independence for the emerging countries, Ghana and Nigeria, was mentioned in passing, but there was still much work to be done in education, training, experience. It was generally accepted that it would require at least another ten years. Malvern added: ‘Fortunately, it has no bearing on our case, because as everyone knows Rhodesia was offered dominion status in 1945, at the end of the war, so if need be we can have it tomorrow.’

  In principle it was completely reassuring, especially because, as we all knew, it was based on fact, on recorded undertakings which we had received from the British government. How could anyone question their veracity?

  However, the other side of the picture was that Malvern had failed to bring back from London any conclusive agreement on the question of the future of the Federation. He had hoped to secure confirmation on the question of dominion status, and a positive move in that direction. His case was based on the preamble to the Federal constitution, in which it was stated, as part of the declaration, that the Federation would be entitled ‘to go forward with confidence towards the attainment of full membership of the Commonwealth’, i.e. dominion status. But the British government was not prepared to go along with Malvern’s request that the Federal government should be granted Commonwealth status, while the northern territories (Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland) remained as colonies, directly ruled from London. To support his case, he used the situation which prevailed in Australia, where there was a clear analogy to what he was seeking. Ten years earlier, the idea would have been accepted with alacrity. But now the mood had changed.

  Although Macmillan’s ‘Winds of Change’ speech of early 1960 was still four years off, the move towards independence was gaining momentum. The British government had stated their desire to appoint a commission to review the future of the Federation. This was done in the face of strong opposition and criticism from our leaders, because it was in direct conflict with the principle that ‘the Federation was indissoluble’. But, confronted by African nationalism, the British government found little difficulty in bending their principles.

  Malvern was getting on in years — he had served as Prime Minister for twenty-three years, a record for the Commonwealth. Those close to him said that, apart from the fact that he was tired of politics, what had got him down was the blatant dishonesty of the British politicians with whom he was now dealing. They were totally unlike those with whom he was accustomed to working in the past. He thought that Welensky, not a born and bred Englishman like himself, might be better able to cope with this new generation of British politicians. That was what most of us thought, and certainly Welensky’s talk, not only his looks, was far more pugnacious than that of Malvern.

  Welensky lost no time in getting to grips with his problem and, in 1957, shortly after becoming Prime Minister, he visited Britain and returned with what sounded like worthwhile concessions. Amid a few mundane changes, such as an increase in members of the Federal assembly, there was a British undertaking only to legislate in Federal matters at the request of the Federal government. It sounded impressive, but it was something the Rhodesian government had always enjoyed. Most significant was the agreement that the Federal review conference which was scheduled to take place in 1960 would ‘consider a programme to enable the Federation to become eligible for full membership of the Commonwealth’. Again it sounded impressive, but in fact it was merely a repetition of what was included in the preamble to the Federal constitution. So, while what Welensky had obtained sounded good and gave some satisfaction to ‘the man in the street’, to those who had some idea of the history of what was going on, it was treated with a pinch of salt.

  Added to our suspicions, which were slowly but surely being translated into fact, we were suddenly confronted, in 1957, with a dramatic acceleration in the pace of granting independence. Only in the previous year Malvern had told us that a minimum of ten years was still required to ensure adequate preparation for those few countries which were most advanced. Yet less than one year later Ghana was granted independence, and nobody seemed to raise an eyebrow. In 1960 Nigeria received its independence, Tanganyika in 1961, Uganda in 1962, and Kenya in 1963. But what about our Federation, and all the associated promises? The British seemed to be applying two rules: one for black Africans, and another, completely different, for white Africans. Their actions were motivated by pressure from the OAU, and the majority of the leaders representing the OAU were communist-oriented. So clearly the dice were loaded against Rhodesia, whose government was still in white hands, and was also powerfully anti-communist.

  It is also important to note that during this period a Conservative government was in power in Britain. Conservatives are known for their opposition to rapid and extensive change. They believe in evolution as opposed to revolution, and are reluctant to deviate from the well-tried and proven track. Above all, they were the founders of the concept of the ‘British Empire’, and the centuries-old proud record of explorers and pioneers who had carried the Union Jack and its torch of freedom, justice, Christianity, and Western civilisation to the most remote parts of the world.

  We had to ask ourselves: what would the position be when the next Labour Party government came to power? They were socialists, their beliefs and philosophy the complete antithesis of those held by the Conservatives. This was a horrifying thought to contemplate. It would have been unnatural, indeed unintelligent, if Rhodesians had not begun to look around for other friends, whom we hoped would be more honest, more trustworthy and, probably most important of all, who were faced with the same problems and shared the same hopes for the future. We looked for people who were part of the world we lived in, and who, when making decisions concerning their future, were not looking over their shoulder to some other part of the world.

  First and foremost there was South Africa, our southern neighbour, with whom we had always had close ties in the fields of economics, transport, culture, education, sport, family, holidays and the language of English, common to both our countries. Then there was our eastern neighbour, Mozambique, a Portuguese possession, and to our north-west Angola, the second Portuguese possession in this part of the world. Our relations with Mozambique were second only to those with South Africa. Our railway system was linked to their two main ports of Lourenço Marques and Beira. Rhodesians holidayed in the east coast areas, and Mozambique supplied labour recruits for Rhodesian farms, mines and industry. Admittedly, Mozambique was under the direct control of metropolitan Portugal, but at this stage there were no signs of the Portuguese government resorting to the appeasement strategy manifesting itself so clearly in British politics, and among all the governments in the world they were one of the strongest in their condemnation of communism.

  As the problems with the British deepened, thinking in Rhodesia began to change its orientation, slowly but perceptibly, towards our south, and then to our east. With the passage of time contact and friendship grew, and the links were strengthened. This was especially valuable to us with our assumption of independence in 1965. Indeed, without the clear support of South Africa, and, to a lesser extent, of Portugal, we could never have embarked on the exercise.

  I have already indicated that distrust of British politicians escalated violently over the break-up of the Federation, and even their old and trusted friends like Malvern and Welensky used strong language to condemn the blatant breach of contract associated with its dismemberment. When the British betrayed Rhodesia by refusing to comply with the many agreements which had been made, and finally deceived us into assisting them in winding up the Federation with the promise of our immediate independence, contempt for British politicians knew no bounds. Many of my erstwhile political opponents, who believed that I had been over-sensitive in my suspicions of the British government’s intent, came forward and offered their open support for the stand which I was taking.

  W
hile our confrontation with Britain grew, leading to the final break in our declaration of independence in 1965, support from South Africa mounted, not only from the man in the street, but also at government level, and this became stronger with the passage of time as we proved that we were succeeding. A well-known and highly respected personality in South African politics, the former Minister of Transport, Ben Schoeman, told me many years after the event that, sadly, his assessment had been that we would not last six months. Once it became clear, however, that we were winning, each morning as he walked out of his house, he made a habit of taking his hat off to Rhodesia as a mark of respect. It was not only the English-speaking South Africans who proclaimed their support for us, but the Afrikaners as well. The Afrikaners have never forgiven the British for the Boer War, and especially their handling of their women and children in concentration camps. This left a bitter legacy that has not diminished with time. Many was the time I heard South Africans say: ‘If only we could stand together and be as united internally as we are in our support for Rhodesia!’ Of course, as every South African knows, the divisions in South African whites are not only between English-speaking and Afrikaans-speaking, but also between Afrikaners themselves, and often this is where one finds the bitterest feelings.

  As far as Rhodesians were concerned, it was reassuring for us to know that, if all our erstwhile friends, including the British, turned against us, the South Africans could be trusted for the obvious and sound reason that we were in the same boat, and we would either survive or sink together.

  From the time of our declaration of independence, South Africa was staunch and consistent. First there was Verwoerd, with his quiet, deliberate manner, highly respected by those who worked with him for the strength of his beliefs and principles, and his great mental capacity. He was followed by Vorster, who was even more outspoken in his criticism of Britain and the other Western nations joining in the cult of the permissive society. He quoted to me from a message which he had sent to Alec Home in which he laid down clearly his objections to British interference in South Africa’s internal affairs, pointing out many blatant injustices in different parts of the world which Britain appeared to be condoning. He said:

  It is time to bring these people to their senses and make them realise that this is our country where we have built up over the centuries our own culture and traditions and history, the same as the Americans or Australians for example; they do not try to interfere in their affairs, they are afraid of the Americans. We must give these people the message that we are not going to allow the communists to come in here and take over, and as we have agreed, the Zambezi is the strongest line for us to work from.

  We were both on the same wavelength, and it was reassuring to my cabinet and caucus to have this confirmation. But Vorster’s whole character changed with his vision of détente. We were forced against our better judgement to acquiesce. The release of the terrorist leaders, the abrupt withdrawal of the South African forces without any prior warning, the Falls Bridge conference, the meetings in Salisbury with Nkomo under the auspices of Vorster and Kaunda — each in turn failed because of South Africa’s arrogant belief that they knew more about our internal affairs than we did. And it is significant to note that on each occasion, not only our politicians, but civil servants as well, predicted they would not work. However, although they set back the progress which we were making, they did not destroy our base. After each failure, we were able to go back and start building again.

  The agreement reached in Pretoria in September 1976 with Vorster and Kissinger was completely different. In all the former cases, although we were convinced they would not produce results, it was a matter of opinion, and sometimes the almost impossible does happen. So, in the previous circumstances, knowing how strongly Vorster felt about his ‘détente’, I went along with him. The Pretoria agreement, however, was the antithesis of the philosophy and principles of not only the Rhodesian Front government, but all its predecessors too — as the record clearly demonstrates. A question which often came up in our discussions latterly was: ‘What will we do if Vorster goes too far and asks us to go along with something which is unacceptable and in conflict with our beliefs?’

  My reply was always consistent and to the point: ‘We would have to tell him in complete honesty, that while we had gone out of our way to accommodate him in his détente exercises, the time had now come to inform him that he was asking us to accept things which we were convinced were to the detriment of our country, which therefore we were unable to accept.’

  There was a somewhat sullen acquiescence, for a number of my team felt that we had already passed that point. But I always urged positive thinking and expressed my hope and belief that such a situation would never eventuate. It was unrealistic to me to believe that Vorster would go so far as to attempt to jettison us, to use us as the sacrificial lamb for some end which could only be speculative and might end, like all his previous efforts, in disaster.

  However, I was wrong. On that fateful day in Pretoria Vorster placed the proverbial pistol to our head. If we turned down his plan, we were faced with his threat to cut off our supply line and, if into the bargain Britain and America were actively to support the terrorists, something which appeared highly likely, the future looked bleak. Kissinger’s proposal seemed to be the only glimmer of hope on an otherwise black and desperate-looking horizon. Kissinger offered a two-year period in which Rhodesians would work out in their own country a new constitution. The hope was that we could convince the reasonable black participants of the benefits of responsible action that would retain the confidence of our white people, encourage them to go on living in the country, making their contribution towards its development and welfare. South Africa, the USA and Britain were the guarantors of its success, and we were informed that they could also ensure the support of the major European powers. It was, nevertheless, Hobson’s choice that confronted us. One of the main complications facing me was the possibility, as Kissinger had mentioned, of the communists influencing Nyerere and Kaunda, especially Nyerere, to withdraw their support of the agreement. We would then be landed in the position where we had burnt our bridges only to find that the promised road ahead had been blocked. But then, as Vorster had reassured me, having accepted the agreement we would be in the right, the others in the wrong, and under those circumstances our free world friends would stand by us. Kissinger sat with an immobile face, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. It seemed to me as though he had concluded, in all honesty, that he was unable to vouch for Carter and the Democrats.

  We were now confronted, in early 1977, with the dreadful situation that our worst fears had been realised. Ivor Richard had attempted to extract from us, as part of what I regarded as his scheme to appease the black extremists, our concurrence to change the Pretoria agreement, the British plan which Kaunda and Vorster had brokered on their behalf. With Kissinger gone, only Vorster remained as part of the agreement. It left me with a desperately uneasy feeling, because of the clear change in Vorster’s character over the last few years, associated with his escapade into détente.

  I had asked Jack Gaylard in January 1977 to keep Harold Hawkins, as our diplomatic representative in South Africa, well briefed, so that he could ensure Vorster was fully in the picture. I did not want Vorster to be in any doubt over the shambles in which the Pretoria agreement now lay. The reply was to the effect that the South African ministers, as was the custom, were at their coastal holiday homes, and would be gathering in Cape Town towards the end of January for the opening of Parliament. A message eventually came through in February expressing Vorster’s great concern over the obvious breach of the Pretoria agreement, and assuring me that he was using his best endeavours to remedy the situation. He would keep in contact with me. Sadly, the evidence before us clearly indicated that he would continue to use us as a bargaining counter in his campaign of appeasement.

  This was the predicament confronting Rhodesia. Confidence had been dealt a serious blow by the Pre
toria agreement because we were compelled to accept conditions which were obviously to our detriment. There were to be certain compensations, however: an end to sanctions, an end to the terrorist war, financial assistance to promote the economy, and a restoration of external confidence and investment. While we had complied with our part of the agreement, paid our price, the other parties to the agreement had reneged. This delivered a second blow to the already battered Rhodesian confidence — moreover, it was a blow below the belt. A number of Rhodesians who had accepted the first shock, and decided to live with it, now had second thoughts, and changed their minds. It was one thing to accept an unpalatable decision — Rhodesians had faced up to this on more than one occasion — but the obvious treachery of our so-called friends of the free world, who were blatantly condoning the breach of agreement by the communists and terrorists, was difficult to accept. My immediate concern was with the security forces, because, although we were enjoying a most successful phase with a very high kill-rate of terrorists, there was a definite indication of declining confidence among our fighting men in the long-term future of our country. Some were openly talking about making plans to emigrate. If this escalated it would have a serious detrimental effect on our ability to hold the security situation, and thus erode the strength of our negotiating base. While no thinking man argued against the need for a negotiated settlement, it was critical to operate from a strong position in order to avoid having to give way to the communists. So, although the need for a settlement had never been greater, obviously for tactical reasons it was essential to present a strong and united front to enable us to negotiate from a position of strength.