by Ian Smith
By late January 1979, the campaign for the referendum on the new constitution came to a climax. There was a particularly rowdy meeting in Salisbury, packed with a crude, undisciplined opposition from the reactionary right wing who were totally destructive in their contributions. Fortunately for us, their ill-mannered behaviour did their cause more harm than good. David Smith, who was speaking from the platform with me, was rewarded with applause when he likened the booing from our opponents to the noise from his cows when he was down on the farm. I was unable to resist jumping to my feet and adding, with respect, that to associate my bovines with such ill-mannered behaviour would be to insult them!
At long last, on 25 January, we received a truthful statement from the South African government on their attitude to our new constitution. This was necessary in order to correct the lies which the Rhodesian Action Party (RAP), our reactionary right-wing opponents, had been propagating. The South African government contradicted RAP’s claim that they were opposed to our plan for ‘stampeding’ the one man, one vote process. Going back to Vorster’s time, on a number of occasions he had given undertakings that he would make it clear in public firstly that he supported us in what we were doing (if he were truthful, he would have admitted that he blackmailed us into doing it). Secondly, Vorster had promised that South Africa would oppose any move in the contrary direction. Pik Botha had given a similar undertaking to all four executive council members at the meeting at New Sarum in 1978, and at our meeting on the banks of the Limpopo on 15 November 1978 he had made a similar promise in the presence of P.W. Botha.
The above South African reply to the RAP was, nevertheless, engineered by me. In the week before, I had sent a message to P.W. Botha via Harold Hawkins (asking Hawkins to ensure that it went beyond Foreign Affairs and reached P.W.) pointing out that if they had not delivered the goods before my eve-of-poll broadcast, I would have no option but to take the initiative. No doubt that frightened them into producing the desired result — the thought of leaving it to me must have been a pretty grim prospect! We never ceased to be appalled at the South Africans’ sheer dishonesty on the Rhodesian issue, on the one hand forcing us to do things against our better judgement, while on the other blandly making public statements that they would never contemplate trying to apply pressure to us. And RAP was trading on this in their opposition campaign, in spite of the fact that they knew, through the twelve dissidents from our caucus, the truth of the situation. We found it difficult to decide which was more devious, the South African government or RAP!
In the midst of our referendum campaign, there had been a fair number of seemingly influential visitors from Europe and America and, although they appeared to be impressed by our cause, we waited in vain for any response from their governments. I had a meeting on 29 January with visiting US Democrat Lowensen, who came with a reputation of being an extreme liberal. His attitude, however, was completely different, and he impressed me with his straightforward honesty and constructive desire to get the facts and try to help. He openly conceded that the US Administration was not motivated by principle or morality, but by black pressure from the OAU and, even more important, in their own backyard, where the black vote had put Carter into office, and would mean win or lose for Carter next time! I could not help thinking to myself how unintelligent it was of the US electorate to place themselves in a position where their voters were so equally divided that a small percentage of extreme and racially motivated members of their community could hold the balance of power in their elections.
Referendum Day fell on 30 January. We cast our votes early and then moved around to various polling stations speaking to people. As usual it was a busy, exciting day. After dinner we went down to the central post office, where the results were coming in from all over the country — the place was a hive of activity. I had predicted a 70 per cent ‘yes’ vote, so it was a most welcome relief for me when it turned out to be 85 per cent. I declared it to be: ‘a great positive decision which will consolidate and strengthen us internally, and be a forceful message to the rest of the world of our unity and determination’. The press had been very much in evidence, and one of them put it to me that this was my greatest victory ever, but I wanted time to consider that one!
The success for me was tempered by family departures. The next day, 31 January, I wrote: ‘Elisabeth flew off back to Norway — we will miss her, because she fitted into our family perfectly and we have grown to love her so. Our hopes and prayers are that she and Alec will fulfil their dreams and plans.’
The day after that, 1 February, both my sons and my son-in-law were away:
Alec left this morning for his stint in the Army, and as Robert and Clem are likewise doing service, all three are away. It is a tough time for the mothers and wives and sweethearts left behind worrying and hoping. And what makes it much more difficult for us, is that our friends in the rest of the world seem so unconcerned.
The overwhelming affirmative vote in our referendum had made a significant impact throughout the world and encouraged our friends to renew their efforts. There had been reassuring calls from both Washington and London. Our black colleagues in government were obviously exhilarated by the result, hoping that, in the coming first majority-rule general election, they could emulate our performance!
There had been no reactions from South Africa. Hawkins told us that they were completely engrossed in their ‘Information Scandal’, and the lambasting they were receiving, not only from their political opponents but, more important, from the whole country in general. It was becoming more and more obvious that Vorster had been completely in the picture all along, so much so that prominent newspaper editorials were calling for his resignation, and certain Johannesburg city councillors were refusing to attend the ceremony conferring upon him the freedom of that city.
We received further views from the outside world on 9 February, when Ken Flower of the CIO reported on his recent trips to Europe and North Africa, where he met, among others, King Hassan, the Shah of Iran, General Dick Walters (USA), and de Maranches (France). Everywhere he found strong criticism of the decadence of the free world, which hinged on the dreadful incompetence of their leaders. One of the comments as: ‘A bunch of pygmies who would look more at home amongst their contemporaries in Rwanda Urundi.’ And Flower relayed a comment from one of the representatives attending a recent conference at Guadeloupe — discussing the sale of aircraft to China and assistance for the Shah — that: ‘Schmidt opposed everything the British proposed, d’Estaing sat on his hands, and Carter didn’t understand what was going on.’
On Monday 12 February, my intention to retire was questioned at a meeting with the president and members of the African Farmers’ Union. Dennis Norman (of the Rhodesian National Farmers’ Union) was in attendance. We had an intelligent and balanced discussion on a number of their problems, and finally left me with the message of their deep concern over stories of my impending retirement from the political scene, as they believed that it would be in the national interest for me to continue.
That day, Nkomo’s ZIPRA shot down a second one of our Viscounts, again on a flight from Kariba. This time no one survived as the stricken aircraft plunged straight into rugged hilly country. Again there was a wave of public anger. Our security forces responded, as they had before, with raids into Zambia and a long-distance bombing raid on a ZIPRA base near Luso in Angola at the end of the month.
Other concerns were raised on 15 February at a meeting in Bulawayo with the Matabele Chiefs. I spoke strongly on the stupidity of the Matabele nation being divided into two factions and fighting among themselves, while the Mashonas were milking the cow and getting away with the spoils. They ended by expressing their deep concern over this majority rule monster which confronted them, and expressed their desire to continue as in the past.
The question of my retirement met further opposition on the morning of 26 February in the party standing committee which met to plan for the impending general election. We faced the
difficult task of scaling down the existing fifty constituency MPs to twenty, and I made it clear that I would be happy to stand down in order to make way for a younger candidate. There was complete opposition to this suggestion, however, on the grounds that this would have an adverse effect on the morale of our white people and, on the evidence available, a large number of blacks into the bargain.
Not everyone was opposed, however. During lunch a message came from my secretary to say that David Smith wished to see me urgently. He had received a phone call from Pik Botha expressing concern at their information that it was my intention to stand in the election. David conceded that, during their unfortunate meeting at the end of December 1978, he had mentioned to Pik that he had heard me say that I would be ready to stand down if need be. Botha had used poetic licence when passing my comment on to his friends throughout the world, assuring them that I was retiring from politics and that no longer would I be a thorn in their flesh and accordingly ‘how happy we will all be’.
Botha was now sitting by his phone, I was told, awaiting the reply from David to pass on to his cabinet colleagues, and if it was the wrong answer we would live to regret it We agreed that it was deplorable that he could descend to such depths — the worst kind of blackmail, and a blatant contradiction of what they were telling the public. I wondered why he did not have the guts to contact me personally, but David said he thought the answer was obvious. My natural impulse, the same, I believe, as that of any normal man, was to tell Botha to go to Hell. But then, as so often in my position, I had to curb myself.
I told David that their days of blackmailing the white man, their so-called friends in Rhodesia, had ended They had already indicated their choice in the new Zimbabwe: Muzorewa and the UANC. We had a number of pointers to prove this. So, if they wished to do anything to my personal detriment, let them get on with it, because this would not harm my country. Thus my answer for David to pass on was clear and straight: ‘I have never given any undertaking to anybody, or made any agreement concerning my retirement from politics. Moreover, there is a clear indication, not only from whites, but amongst black people as well, which has come to the surface particularly strongly during recent weeks, that I should continue in politics. The day I am shown that I am no longer wanted in the service of my country, I will stand down.’
As a final coup de grâce, I told David to ask Botha from me whether his request was made in promoting the best interests of Rhodesia, or in assisting him in his ‘horse-trading’ business aimed at fostering South African détente? Needless to say, there was no reply.
On 28 February, on the adjournment of the House in the afternoon, our final day, I made a kind of valedictory speech and at the end when I complimented this great Rhodesian nation with its tremendous people, a lump came to my throat and I had difficulty in completing all I wished to say. It was embarrassing, but there is just nothing one can do about this. Under such circumstances it would have been unnatural not to experience some emotion.
The South African pressure on me was unrelenting. On 5 March, Rowan Cronjé came to report back to me on his visit to Cape Town the previous week at the invitation of Pik Botha, who met him at the airport and took him straight to his residence where he talked non-stop for one and a half hours. Then they were driven to the Prime Minister’s residence, where he laid on a repeat performance. P.W. sat, listened, and said nothing. Apart from the fact that they had given commitments to other people after his meeting with David Smith and Ernest Bulle in late December, Pik claimed it would be to my advantage to retire gracefully — I had such a fantastic world image and reputation that I would go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise I would find myself in the degrading position of having to serve in a subordinate position to a black prime minister. Even my enemies in the world would be sorry to witness this, and, of course, my South African friends would find it even more traumatic. Pik hoped that Rowan could get the message over to me, discreetly and without mentioning names. Rowan was taken aback by this, and pointed out that he had obviously informed me about his visit and whence the invitation had come — anything else would have been dishonest. It would be equally dishonest if he failed to report back the facts to me. For the first time P.W. intervened to say that he agreed with Cronjé. Pik was completely deflated, and the whole sordid business came to an end.
Rowan was obviously embarrassed, and apologised for the fact that he had been implicated, but I put him at ease by indicating that had he not gone we would not have known what was going on — I was pleased to have further confirmation of what we had suspected. It was clear that their Department of External Affairs believed that the new black government in Zimbabwe would be something they could manipulate and mould. Any of the white ministers from the previous Rhodesian government would obviously make their task more difficult, but the thought of Smith being one of the participants was a dreadful nightmare that could not be contemplated. On the return flight to Johannesburg, Rowan bumped into Jimmy Kruger, one of the government ministers; he was pleased to hear that I was fit and ready to be a candidate in the coming election. In Pretoria, Rowan also met a number of Nationalist Party MPs who reacted enthusiastically when told of my readiness to stand in the election. Yet Pik had assured Rowan that it was the united view of government, cabinet and caucus that I should step down from the political scene! I wrote in my diary:
It is sad to record that I find myself in a position where I am more averse to dealing with certain members of the South African Government than the British. With the latter we know that they are our enemies, and expect accordingly, but when your ‘friends’ treat you with such blatant treachery, your problem is compounded.
My decision to continue in politics was supported on 9 March in a series of meetings at party level with the standing committee and caucus and, at government level, with the executive council and cabinet. There was a strong conviction that I must not stand down, and the black ministers were unanimous in this view. As one of them said: ‘I can understand the South Africans wanting you out of the way, because that’s what Nkomo and Mugabe want, but it’s the last thing we need here.’ There was also representation from the security chiefs saying that the rumour of my retirement was causing concern among their men at a critical period, and they believed it was their duty to warn that such action would have adverse effects.
But in Cape Town the South Africans were keeping up the pressure on Harold Hawkins with the odd, seemingly casual question such as: ‘Any news about your Prime Minister’s position yet?’ They were always at pains, however, to indicate that the decision was mine, and that they were not attempting to pressurise me — other than threatening to cut my throat if I did not agree!
On two occasions since the New Year, I had suggested to Harold Hawkins that a face-to-face meeting between myself and the South African Prime Minister might help to clear the air, but there were no takers. I had a feeling that the message was stopped at Foreign Affairs and never reached P.W. My suspicions were further aroused when Rowan Cronjé mentioned that on his recent visit Pik had said: ‘We were hoping your Prime Minister would come down for a discussion, but unfortunately he couldn’t spare the time!’
A message came from Hawkins to say the South Africans would welcome a visit from David Smith and one of my other ministers, but not Rowan Cronjé, as evidently they had been disenchanted with his obstinacy on his last visit, when he had refused to connive with them in their plan to deceive me. But their obsession with secrecy and covering up continued, for they insisted that the whole thing be in complete confidence and nothing mentioned about it. One would have thought that they had learned a lesson from the ‘Information’ débâcle, which was still raging. In the latest development, according to Hawkins, they had sent Hendrik van den Berg, the secret service chief, flying to Paris to buy off Eschel Rhoodie, the former, controversial, Secretary for Information, to prevent him selling his tape recordings — they were obviously concerned that this would implicate other people in their government, so a few
million dollars of taxpayers’ money might be a cheap price to pay to prevent this.
I was happy to send Hilary Squires along with David, not only because of his clear and logical reasoning, but because they represented the vital Ministries of Finance and Defence. We talked things over before they departed, and when the question of the secrecy of their meeting came up, I told them that it was a personal question for each man to agree or not — to which Squires replied: ‘That will be the bloody day!’
The South Africans were using every means to force my hand. I had a visit one evening from Muzorewa and Chikerema; they had been asked by the South Africans to press me to stand down because, so their argument ran, my resignation would lead to recognition of the new government by the major free world countries. This was a compelling reason, and moreover, the South Africans promised, I would be taken care of and compensated anywhere in the world. I made two points in reply to Muzorewa and Chikerema: first I had no intention of living anywhere in this world, other than my own country; second, because of my strong objection to corruption, I rejected any such offer with contempt. I said I would be influenced by what was good for my country, such as recognition and the removal of sanctions, but clearly we had to be on our guard because of those occasions when we had been deceived and betrayed by Britain, the USA and even South Africa. If they were to deliver the goods through recognition and the removal of sanctions, it would be a pleasure and a relief for me to pull out of politics, and I would gladly give that undertaking.