At the time of the Troubles over Seretse Khama he came to see me at the CRO and told me that he felt personally that the Govt were doing the right thing, but he felt sure that I would understand if, for party reasons, he did not say so; and then he went down to the House of Commons and made a most violent speech on the other side. Politics are politics; but I remember being very shocked at the time.36
Sir Ian Fraser, Conservative, defended the Government. ‘I think it would be wise as well as gracious of members of this House,’ he said, not to bring South Africa into the discussion:
I understand Dr Malan did not intervene at all, that he made no recommendation or representations directly or indirectly, and that the British Government did not ask for any advice or help from South Africa.
After the debate, there was a vote. MPs approved by 308 votes to 286 the Government’s decision to exclude Seretse Khama permanently.37 The Government had held firm. Seretse quietly left the Visitors’ Gallery and went home.
Ismay gave the announcement to the Lords. ‘Both in its substance and in its timing,’ said Earl Jowitt, the leader of the Opposition, ‘there is obviously grave matter for criticism here.’38 He then asked for a debate. This took place on the following Monday, when Ismay argued that the previous government had been mistaken to banish Tshekedi, ‘for he was guilty of no fault as Seretse, in his character of ruler, had been’. Tshekedi had committed no offence, whereas Seretse had committed ‘I do not say a crime or an offence but a most serious breach of all the tribal customs and traditions’. Ismay was accused of trying to bribe Seretse with the offer of a job in Jamaica. His reply was an implicit compliment to Seretse: ‘I can assure the House that it was not intended in that way. Indeed anyone who has talked to Seretse for five minutes would realise that on that basis it would not be likely to be successful.’39
In the view of The Times, at least the Government’s decision had the benefit of being definite, and the Daily Telegraph said that the decision was courageous. The Manchester Guardian, however, believed that it would shock many people in Britain and ‘will give mortal offence to millions of Africans throughout the continent’. The Daily Express said it was a ‘bad deed which should arouse shame and anger throughout the country’. Many people were disgusted. ‘This case really makes me ashamed I am English,’ wrote ‘Miss X’ in London, ‘and proves what sort of hypocrites we are… I am afraid our “bossing” days are over and we must wake up.’40 Oliver Messel, the celebrated theatrical designer, wrote personally to the Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden. ‘I am wildly distressed at the issue about Seretse Khama,’ he said:
I am a staunch Conservative supporter but this injustice and change of policy gives me a shock, which I feel so strongly about that I have to write to you … Surely you cannot approve of the attitude in South Africa. It will have to change as it has already in America, or end in bloodshed like the French Revolution.41
The British Council of Churches sent a deputation to the Secretary of State, led by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Even if the policy were right for the Reserve, said the Archbishop, it could not be isolated from its effect on African opinion elsewhere at a time when Africans were putting great faith in Her Majesty’s Government.42
A cable from the African National Congress was sent on 1 April to Lord Salisbury. The ANC, representing 10 million Africans, it said, was shocked at the ‘arbitrary and harsh exclusion of Seretse’ and it warned of serious repercussions throughout Africa.43 Reaction in the white South African press was muted. ‘There has been no public comment,’ reported the High Commissioner to London, ‘and it would appear almost as if there had been a general tacit understanding that the subject should be avoided.’44 The only papers to comment directly on the decision were Die Transvaler and Die Volksblad, which heartily approved.
In less than six months after the start of their term in office, the Conservative Government had ended the exile of Tshekedi and had made Seretse’s exclusion final and permanent. In Chipstead, 2-year-old Jacqueline Khama said she liked gooseberries and other berries – but not ‘Salisberries’.45 Her parents were now faced with the prospect of spending the whole of the rest of their lives in exile, away from Africa and away from the Bechuanaland Protectorate. Without Ruth, thought John Redfern, Seretse might have been ‘knocked hard’ by these years of frustration. But with her, ‘he has taken all his misfortunes with a shrug of the shoulders. Occasionally cutting, he is never sour.’46 Seretse and Ruth were admired by their friends for their restraint. ‘Throughout this ugly period,’ wrote Joe Appiah in his memoir,
Seretse displayed regal dignity and calm worthy of his royal ancestry. And as for his dear wife, Ruth, her courage and defiance, her devotion and stead-fastness will forever be remembered wherever the story of this inhuman treatment is told… Like her biblical namesake, Ruth went with Seretse, making his God her God and his people her people.47
19
Envoys for justice
There was a cloud of sadness and despair over the Bangwato. The usual self-help projects had ceased and the whole of the Malekantwa regiment – Seretse’s age group – now wore beards: they had vowed to shave only when Seretse returned.1 Every time a plane passed over Serowe, the children looked up to the sky and called, ‘Seretse come down!’2
The Bangwato had pleaded with the Government for Seretse’s and Ruth’s return on three separate occasions – at the Harragin Inquiry in November 1949, at Gordon Walker’s Kgotla in Serowe in February 1951, and during the tour of the Observers in August 1951. But it had made no difference. Tshekedi, on the other hand, had managed to persuade the Government to end his exile from the Bangwato Reserve. It occurred to Keaboka that they needed to adopt a new strategy: to follow Tshekedi’s example. The former Regent had gone to Britain to press his case – and had been successful. In 1895, the diKgosi Khama III, Bathoen and Sebele had gone to Britain to appeal for protection against the Boers – and they, too, had been successful. It was now time for Seretse’s people to go to Britain, to plead with the Secretary of State: ‘Black as we are we can think. Government is doing something unjust to us.’ He proposed the idea to a meeting at the Kgotla and it was immediately taken up, with renewed hope for Seretse’s return.3
A request was made for the use of Tribal Treasury funds for the journey, but it was refused. This meant that all the money had to be collected from individuals in the Reserve, which called for great sacrifice. Most people were very poor, and even if they did have some kind of means, it was likely to be in the form of cattle or goats – they had little access to cash. Much of the money had to be raised in loans, against future payments of cattle.4 Almost daily, the women of Maha-lapye met together to organize the fund-raising campaign. Many of their meetings were addressed by Manyaphiri’s wife, in her hut.5
Colonel Beetham told the tribe firmly that a delegation to Britain was ‘not only an utter waste of time, but moreover a complete waste of large sums of money contributed by you Bamangwato’.6 But the Bangwato didn’t agree. Plans were well advanced when suddenly the situation became even more pressing – for they were given the shocking news that the exclusion order against Seretse had been made permanent. On the morning of 28 March 1952, an urgent meeting was held at the Serowe Kgotla, attended by Keaboka, Fraenkel and over 500 people. Fraenkel said that he had made arrangements for six men to go to London, flying from Johannesburg on 6 April. There were Government spies at the meeting: one of the headmen went up to two men, identifying them as plain-clothes policemen, and ordered them to leave.7
The six men who were eventually selected as ambassadors for the Bangwato were: Keaboka Kgamane; Peto Sekgoma; Kobe Baitswe, the headman of Selika village in the Tswapong district and a retired trooper in the Bechuanaland Protectorate Police; Mtultwatsi Mpoto-kwane from Tonota, who had been a Supervisor of Schools; Mongwaketse Mathangwane, a headman from the Bokalaka district; and Gaothobogwe Leposo, a headman from Madinare. Fraenkel would also go, as their legal adviser. The Bangwato asked for a Government offic
ial to accompany the delegation, but this was refused.8 There was a new spirit of hope abroad in the reserve and a request was made to the LMS missionary, Alan Seager, for prayers to be said in the church for the success of the delegation. These were held every Monday and Thursday at seven in the morning and were well attended.9
The delegates left Johannesburg by air on 6 April and arrived in Britain in the late afternoon of Wednesday 9 April 1952, after an exhausting journey involving many stopovers. As they descended the steps of the Portuguese airliner which had brought them from Lisbon, their last stop, they were met by a battery of press representatives and newsreel cameramen.10 Movietone observed that Salisbury had promised to listen to them – ‘but offered no hope for their plea’.11 The Pathe newsreel was equally pessimistic – ‘These visitors will be heard, though no change is expected.’12 John Redfern, the Daily Express correspondent who had been sympathetically following the story ever since Ruth’s arrival in Serowe in 1949, was one of the waiting journalsts. He observed that the visitors from Bechuanaland were dressed in light-coloured, snap-brim hats, and had a worried air.13
Lord Rathcreedan was waiting at the airport to welcome them. When he had first agreed to act as Seretse’s lawyer, he had taken it on as just another brief; but now, having got to know and like Seretse and Ruth, he was angry about the injustice that had been done to them and the Bangwato. Fenner Brockway, too, had come to the airport, but had to return to the House of Commons before they arrived. The British Government had not sent anyone to greet the delegation. When this was pointed out by the press, one of the delegation remarked that before leaving their homeland they had made a special journey to pay their respects to the Resident Commissioner. ‘The implication,’ observed Redfern, ‘was that courtesy had begun, and ended, at home.’14 The delegates went straight to Chipstead to be received by Seretse and Ruth and to bring news of home to them and to Naledi. A photograph was taken of them in front of the house, dressed up warmly against the chill of the British spring, with Seretse standing in the middle of the group.15
Almost up to the time of their arrival, the Government had flatly refused to see them. All the arguments were already known, insisted John Foster to the House of Commons. This was greeted with cries of ‘Shame’ from some members, and one MP warned that ‘The decision to refuse to see the representatives of the African people who desire to come here to see the Minister is a policy calculated to lead to grave damage to our reputation in Africa.’ In the Lords, the Commonwealth Secretary said he would not see the delegation, because there was nothing to be achieved.16 But he, too, was so heavily criticized that he gave in – an announcement that was met with cheers.17
The visitors from Africa were made to wait for nearly two weeks before they were granted a meeting with Salisbury. As they waited, they were frequent visitors to Chipstead, where they spent long hours discussing their strategy with Seretse. The Khamas also went to see them in their hotel in Bloomsbury. ‘As Seretse strode into a corner of the lounge,’ reported Redfern, ‘the six men jumped to their feet. He was their Chief all right.’ Some well-wishers took them on tours of the capital:
The visitors thought that the Underground was ‘a miracle’, as one of them put it. They were particularly delighted by the escalators… The traffic worried them. Apart from Keaboka, acting as their Chairman, they had hardly any acquaintance with big cities. Mafikeng was a big city to them.18
They also attended the meetings that had been arranged by the Seretse Khama Fighting Committee and other organizations. On 15 April, they joined Seretse and Joe Appiah on the platform of Caxton Hall in Westminster, at a meeting organized by Racial Unity, which numbered Mary Attlee, Clement Attlee’s sister, among its founders. The delegates did not speak, as they had still to meet with Salisbury and they were afraid it might prejudice their hopes. But they sat behind Seretse on the platform. Ruth and Naledi sat together in the front row; Ruth wore a black spring coat over a lavender dress, with a black hat.
Seretse gave his first public speech since the Government’s decision to exile him on a permanent basis. He had been offered a post in Jamaica, he said, where people were much more advanced than the people of Bechuanaland. ‘Would I not be more useful in my own country?’ he asked. He had been told that his marriage was contrary to native custom, but he could prove this was not the case:
I am not bitter, but I am frustrated… I am compelled to live here and do absolutely nothing. I find it difficult, for all my Oxford training, to understand the people I have been dealing with – even though some of them have been to Oxford. Perhaps they went to a different college.
‘We are a peace-loving people,’ he told his audience, then urged:
Don’t let your Government teach us racial prejudice. We don’t have it. We don’t want it. We in Bechuanaland still regard ourselves as British and we still have a great deal of confidence in British justice, fair play and decency. Don’t destroy it by allowing your government to carry out this unjust decision without a protest from you.19
Seretse made a very good impression and demolished the government’s reasons, especially the one concerning his ‘lack of responsibility’, recorded the Secretary of Racial Unity. It seemed to him that the Government were putting out ‘scapegoat reasons’ for their policy, which were unfairly – and without any justification – raising doubts about Seretse’s personal reputation.20
Joe Appiah then spoke. An African Chief, he said, could marry anyone – Seretse’s crime was that he had dared to fall in love with a member of the super-race. He added:
We of the Colonial world – we of the coloured world know it as abundantly clear that this matter of Seretse is something that Malan wanted. Both the Labour and Tory Governments flatly deny this, but we know that expediency is always in the background. What has happened on the Gold Coast has given Malan a headache.
‘But,’ he added, ‘there is always the last laugh. What has happened on the Gold Coast will happen in Gambia, Nigeria and elsewhere.’21
Officials from the CRO went to the meeting and made careful notes. They estimated that it was attended by 184 people, 80 per cent of whom were female. The women, they observed, were divided into roughly ‘50% tense bobby-soxers, and 50% elderly suburban matrons, half of whom wore coloured scarfs [sic] as head coverings, and the others a bewildering and staggering array of Lady Baldwin specials [large hats]’. It was a new crowd, they thought – a new generation of activists. There were no India Leaguers, no women like Agatha Harrison, who had supported Gandhi, and no Quakers.22
The CRO did not take the members of the delegation from Bechuanaland at all seriously, describing them variously as ‘country hayseeds’23 and ‘a band of Chipstead minstrels’.24 ‘I should like to stress’, W. A. W. Clark told Herbert Baxter, a senior official, ‘that this delegation is unlikely to cut much ice, once the press have got over the glamour of its arrival. I do not think we should be too greatly exercised about its activities. Its members will soon expose their own shortcomings.’25 What these shortcomings were, he did not explain. Meanwhile, the envoys of the Bangwato were preparing carefully for their meeting with the Secretary of State. Rathcreedan phoned the CRO to explain that
The Delegation was anxious to be able to speak in Kgotla fashion, which meant that each speaker would have his say and Keaboka, the leader, would conclude. He said that he would do his best to ensure that the speeches were as short as possible but he was afraid that they were all naturally rather long-winded. Moreover, as he told me, only one of the Delegation speaks really fluent English and he will be interpreting for the other five. The interpreter, incidentally, will not be Keaboka.26
‘It is a wearisome prospect for the S of S,’ commented Baxter dismissively.27
The Secretary of State was given some confidential notes before the meeting. Peto, he was told, was ‘a bad type and bitterly hostile to Tshekedi’. Apart from Peto and Keaboka, the men came from allied tribes and were ‘of no great standing’. There was no information about ho
w the men had been selected, but the Secretary ‘should refrain from treating them as in any way plenipotentiaries of the Tribe as a whole’.28 It was decided that only Clark and Peter Lewis should attend the Secretary of State at the meeting, so as to diminish the importance of the occasion.29 The delegation would be attended by Rathcreedan, Fraenkel and Matthew Crosse, Seretse’s press agent. ‘Lord Rathcreedan is a solicitor,’ Baxter told Clark, ‘and is agreeable and helpful so far as his duty to his clients allows. Mr Fraenkel, the lawyer, is tough and unfriendly. Mr Crosse is a respectable “public relations” adviser.’30
The meeting finally took place on Monday 21 April 1952, shortly after 3.00 in the afternoon. Lord Salisbury spoke first, saying that he regretted the decision about Seretse as much as the tribesmen did, but it had only been taken for the sake of their welfare. Each member of the delegation then spoke in turn, insisting they wanted Seretse to return to them as Kgosi. ‘The tribe believed’, said Mpotokwane, ‘that they had been deprived of their Chief because of a colour bar, and because they were a small nation.’ By exiling Seretse, the Government were losing a competent and cooperative helper, who knew Western ways and would be able to bridge the gap between native law and custom and Western ideas.
Kobe Baitswe implored the Secretary of State ‘not to give them a snake when they asked for a fish, or a stone when they asked for bread’. Gaothobogwe Leposo said he represented nine villages outside Serowe. He pointed out that after the decision had been announced in March 1950 the Government had called a meeting of the tribe but they had not attended, because they were so grieved. They had stopped paying tax. It was only at Seretse’s request, on his departure from the reserve, that they had resumed cooperation with the Government. He added:
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