The timing of the explosions proved embarrassing to the ANC, as Mandela admitted; only six days before, Albert Luthuli had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo. But they had made sure that Luthuli was safely back home before the sabotage took place, and the ANC was not publicly linked to MK. Luthuli continued to worry about the turn to violence. He had told a Canadian diplomat two months earlier that younger ANC members were thinking of violence, but that it would in his opinion be “suicidal folly” to try to overthrow the government by force.103
Luthuli’s Nobel Prize gave a formidable international endorsement to the ANC’s struggle, and Mandela had been “enormously pleased” when he heard the news of the award on the radio at Rivonia.104 But the British Foreign Office remained wary of contact with Luthuli. When he stopped off in London on his way to Norway, an official advised that a meeting “would be taken greatly amiss by the South African government and it would do nothing to enhance Chief Luthuli’s cause in South Africa.”105
In fact, there was no immediate contradiction between MK’s explosions and the peaceful pressures still being applied by the ANC. The high command of MK remained optimistic that successive acts of sabotage would serve as “a shot across the bows” to bring white South Africa to its senses.106 But soon after the first explosions MK was thinking less about sabotage and more about guerrilla warfare. “There was no formal decision,” said Bernstein, who was involved. “It was something that seemed to develop spontaneously from the idea that sabotage would somehow lead to a ‘next phase.’ ”107 The high command began arranging for key leaders to go abroad for training, followed by young volunteers.
Mandela was now Commander in Chief of a burgeoning fighting force. He had the authority and prestige of a revolutionary leader taking on an unpopular military regime, in an age of revolutions when the forces of oppression seemed in retreat throughout Africa. All his previous roles—the boxer, the man-about-town, the lawyer, the family man—had been left behind by the new role of guerrilla leader underground. It was a surprising and unprepared translation, from many-sided politician to dedicated soldier. Mandela was to be a short-lived and amateurish soldier compared to Cuban or Chinese revolutionaries. He remained above all the politician who saw the need for symbolic gestures to lead his people to a new style of confrontation.
13
Last Fling
1962
BLACK AFRICA was now looming larger on the map, promising a new impact on the world, and powerful support for fellow Africans in the south. In early 1962, after the first explosions of sabotage, the ANC executive decided that they must seek help from the rest of the continent to provide money and military training. They told Mandela to make the connections, and to speak at an African summit meeting in Ethiopia in February to explain the ANC’s crusade. At the age of forty-three, Mandela had never been outside southern Africa, and he agreed with gusto. But his African journey, as is revealed in his private diary, proved much more difficult and full of setbacks than he and his colleagues had expected.
It was a heady time to be traveling through the continent. Newly independent states were rapidly emerging, full of ambitions for a pan-African role in the world. Their ex–imperial masters were offering them aid and friendship to keep them in the Western camp, while the Soviet Union and China were competing to lure them eastward. The Americans, under President Kennedy, were becoming more seriously interested. They worried that in Africa the Cold War would turn into a racial war, and that African states would rally against what they called the “White Redoubt”—South Africa, Angola, Mozambique and the Central African Federation. In July 1962 a secret report was sent to Kennedy’s key policy makers, including Richard Helms at the CIA, recommending that the President should pay an early visit to Africa. It warned that the White Redoubt was “antithetical to American history and political theory,” and that the “Communist Bloc will continue to fish in troubled African waters.” Black South Africans were seen as crucial but unpredictable players: “Their leaders are flirting with violence and, in some cases, with communism.”1
Mandela would find his own view of Africa suddenly opening up, before it was closed off to him. Before leaving he went down to Natal to see Luthuli, whom he found in high spirits. Luthuli approved of Mandela’s trip, and asked to be consulted about the ANC’s new operations. Mandela then spent two days in Johannesburg, where he saw old friends including Walter Sisulu and Duma Nokwe. He was angered when an Indian colleague did not turn up for a meeting because he was “boozing.” Later in Bechuanaland he was angrier still when another colleague was arrested for drunken driving: “An act of amazing irresponsibility and a betrayal,” he told his diary.2 But he remained exhilarated about his trip.
On January 10, 1962 he said good-bye to Winnie and was driven across the border to Bechuanaland (now Botswana), which was then still a British protectorate. He fell in love with the country at first sight, he wrote later: he saw a wilder Africa, including a lioness crossing the road.3 After the jungle of Johannesburg, he reflected, he was “in another cosmopolitan center where the survival of the fittest was the supreme law and where the tangled vegetation concealed all kinds of danger.”4
Bechuanaland was much used as an escape route for black activists, to whom the British authorities appeared tolerant; and they seemed happy to harbor Mandela, for whom (they noted) “South African police have been searching for some months.” But the High Commission was watching him closely. It reported to London that he arrived in the border town of Lobatse on January 12, and that he was “known to possess funds estimated £600.”5
Mandela had “the shock of his life” in Lobatse when he discovered that the immigration officer was also the security chief. He was suspicious when the man recognized him and offered him a safe house to avoid being kidnapped by the South African police, but was reassured when he found that the man had also helped Oliver Tambo two years before.6 There was good reason to be wary: British intelligence had reported several clandestine visits by the South African Special Branch since April 1960, including some “political refugees” who were actually South African agents.7 The local police also recruited many Afrikaners and commonly shared information with the South Africans, according to John Longrigg of the British Embassy in Pretoria.8
From Bechuanaland Mandela was flown with his friend Joe Matthews in a charter plane to Dar-es-Salaam in Tanzania. British intelligence was closely following Matthews, who was now based in Basutoland, and who they thought was “probably a communist ideologist using the ANC as a front”; but they did not know who chartered the plane.9 On the way it narrowly missed hitting a mountain—an experience which tested Mandela’s self-control to the limit, and (he noted) stopped even Joe Matthews from talking.10
In Dar-es-Salaam Mandela was highly visible. He was received by a surprised Frene Ginwala, the ANC representative who acted as travel agent for escaping comrades. She had been told by Tambo that Mandela would arrive in a suit, and that he should be “buried”—or concealed—among the Tanzanians. Instead he was wearing a Basuto hat, a safari suit and high mosquito boots: “And I’m supposed to bury you!” Ginwala exclaimed.11
Mandela flourished in Tanzania, which had become independent the previous month. He was delighted by President Julius Nyerere’s style as a man of the people, with his small car and modest house; and he inspected with some envy the three-story headquarters of Nyerere’s Tanganyika African National Union (TANU) party, with its staff of full-time officials. But he was distressed when Nyerere advised him to postpone the armed struggle and to collaborate with Sobukwe and the PAC, and he argued against Nyerere’s belief that socialism was indigenous to Africa. Significantly, he did not share Nyerere’s view of Africans as a pastoral, nomadic people with no class divisions: long before the arrival of the white men, Mandela insisted, Africans had developed mining and metallurgy, which had provided a social surplus and financed monuments from the Nile to Zimbabwe.12
From Tanzania Mandela flew briefly to West Africa, wher
e he met up with Tambo, now bearded and with longer hair, who had been organizing ANC offices in Ghana.13 He then flew to Ethiopia for the Pan-African Freedom Conference in Addis Ababa. It was organized by Emperor Haile Selassie, the legendary ruler who had inspired Mandela as a boy of seventeen when he first heard how he stood firm against Mussolini’s invading forces. Selassie was neither a socialist nor a democrat, but he ruled over the one African nation that had always been independent, and was now shrewdly encouraging and advising the leaders of the other new nations. “This was the country ruled by Africans, even if it had no democratic institutions,” wrote Mandela. “Every structure I saw round there was the result of African initiative and skills.” Mandela was struck by the formal dignity of the tiny monarch in his uniform as he listened stiff as a log and bowed to the audience with a tilt of the head; and he was amazed to see American military advisers receiving medals and bowing like anyone else.14
Mandela made a dramatic entry to the conference, where he abandoned his alias as “David” and delivered a speech which he had carefully prepared with advice from Tambo and Robert Resha. Mandela described the brutal oppression of black South Africans in “a land ruled by the gun.” He thanked other African states for pressing for boycotts and sanctions, but insisted that his people should not look for their salvation beyond their borders: “The center and cornerstone of the struggle for freedom and democracy in South Africa lies inside South Africa itself.” He described the people’s growing militancy and the vulnerability of the government—“uneasy lies the head which wears the crown”—and the future for the campaign of sabotage which had begun the previous month: “Hard and swift blows should be delivered with the full weight of the masses of the people.” But he had not entirely abandoned nonviolent protest: “The days of civil disobedience, of strikes, and mass demonstrations are not over, and we will resort to them over and over again.”15 He would slip back into South Africa as soon as possible: the last ten months underground had been “the most inspiring period of my life,” he told the Johannesburg Star. “Everywhere I have been inspired by the warm affection … and by the amount of confidence I have found among the African masses.”16
It was the most important speech of Mandela’s career so far, but it was barely reported in South Africa. In London the Observer reported that he had given “a grave warning that the situation in South Africa was explosive”; in an interview in the Manchester Guardian he disclaimed any connection with MK, but said that he thought it had raised the morale of the people, and had strengthened other forms of protest: “This organisation can hit back in reprisal for attacks on innocent people by the government.”17 In fact Mandela’s speech had clearly implied the link between the ANC and MK; and it was soon spelled out emphatically by Robert Resha in exile, exasperating ANC leaders at home who wanted the legal distinction between the two organizations to be preserved.18
Mandela was worried about the tensions between African leaders, particularly the hostility toward Arab “fraternal delegates.” The East and Central Africans were refusing to admit North Africans to their organization PAFMECA (Pan-African Freedom Movement for East and Central Africa)—including the Algerians, who were just concluding their war against France. When Mandela protested, one delegate barked at him: “In North Africa you have Africans who are not Africans.” Tambo passed him a note saying “Shut Up!,” but Mandela soon succeeded in getting the North Africans admitted, earning their gratitude. He also helped to create links between black South Africans and the North. PAFMECA was extended to include South Africa, and was renamed PAFMECSA: a year later it would be further extended to West and North Africa to become the Organization of African Unity (OAU).
Mandela was still more worried by the perception of disunity in black South Africa, and by the impact of the ANC’s rivals the PAC. His speech at the conference had been preceded by a more high-flown speaker, Peter Molotsi of the PAC, who had talked about “the glory that was Africa” and the splendors of the ancient civilization of Azania, the name the PAC gave to South Africa.19 Mandela was surprised to find his old friend Michael Scott, who had once joined the squatters in Soweto, at the conference, apparently with the PAC; but he did not seem to be on very good terms with the PAC delegation, so Mandela kept him company and introduced him to black leaders.20 The PAC had been spreading malicious stories against the ANC in the African states, calling it “a Xhosa tribal army” and “riddled with white communists.” Mandela was trying to show a united front, and to avoid antagonizing the PAC. He talked with Philip Kgosana, the young PAC hero of the march to Cape Town in 1960, at a meeting of university students but failed to persuade him to join him.21
Mandela soon realized that the ANC’s alliance with whites and Indians put them out of step with the black nationalism in the rest of the continent. The PAC’s militancy had caught the imagination of Africa, as the ANC had not. Reports reached the ANC executive in Johannesburg that Mandela was having “a rough ride” in Addis. To their dismay they realized that the PAC had gained more support abroad than they had thought. “Their [the PAC’s] credentials in Africa,” wrote Bernstein, “were not in response to their paltry political record at home but to their radical rhetoric. They identified themselves with that popular African theme of ‘negritude,’ and turned it into a weapon against the multi-racial ANC programme.”22
Mandela now displayed his political pragmatism and sensitivity. In an important report for the ANC he described “the widespread anticolonial feeling and strong opposition to anything resembling partnership between white and black.” The ANC was widely seen as “a communist-dominated organisation,” while the PAC had started off with tremendous advantages because of its ideology, and had “skilfully exploited opposition to whites and partnership.” Mandela was worried that Luthuli’s Nobel Prize “created the impression that Luthuli had been bought by the whites,” and that his autobiography Let My People Go, which had been partly ghosted by the white priest Father Charles Hooper, and praised by Alan Paton, also made him appear “a stooge of whites.” The ANC, Mandela reckoned, had helped to perpetuate the impression of excessive white influence by cooperating with whites at the top, but not among the masses: “All these things have made it appear that the PAC is the only hope for African people. It must be remembered that the mere allegation that you are a stooge is of itself so demagogic that it must automatically discredit the ANC. The nature of the accusation we make against the PAC makes them some sort of heroes. It does not discredit any African politician in Africa to be called a racialist or anti-white.”23 Mandela was not calling for a return to an earlier black African glory, but for a new kind of multiracial society which had no parallel elsewhere in Africa. And for the first time he was coming up against the full force of African nationalism and anticommunism.
Through the rest of his tour Mandela would take care to explain the PAC’s achievements and policies as well as the ANC’s, so that the Africans would not be surprised when they encountered the PAC later. The Tunisian Minister of Defense even complained, “If all that you say about Sobukwe is true, then what are you doing here?”24 Mandela consistently found it hard to justify the ANC’s multiracialism to African leaders accustomed to a more straightforward struggle against white imperialists. And he thought the ANC had been too slow to counter the PAC’s anticommunist propaganda: “Our own chaps have been somewhat timid about attacking them.… We have to do a lot of work indeed before we can say we have nailed them.… There are many who say they may be naïve but they are the only organisation in South Africa that is in step with the rest of Africa.”25
The rest of his tour of Africa confirmed his worries. In Cairo, Egyptian officials complained that the left-wing Johannesburg weekly New Age had criticized President Nasser for attacking the communists. Mandela assured them that New Age did not necessarily represent the ANC’s policy, and promised to take up the question when he returned.26 He flew on to Tunis, where President Bourguiba offered him training and £5,000 for weapons; and then to Mo
rocco, the center for African liberation movements, including Mozambicans, Angolans and, most important, Algerians.
The Algerian war with France had just ended after eight years of mounting conflict and half a million deaths. It provided a terrifying warning of South Africa’s possible fate, with its own rebel army confronting still more entrenched and well-armed white settlers. Mandela was welcomed by Dr. Mustafai, the head of the Algerian mission in Morocco, who wisely explained that guerrilla fighters needed a strong military base outside the country, and offices abroad to mobilize international diplomatic support.27
At Oujda, close to the Algerian border, Mandela watched guerrilla fighters parading in honor of their returned leader, Ahmed Ben Bella, just released from his island prison and soon to become the first President of independent Algeria. In a short speech Ben Bella explained that freedom for the Algerians was meaningless so long as Africa was under the claws of imperialism.28 Mandela was thrilled by the crowds: “Enthusiasm simply bewildering,” he noted in his diary.29 With Ben Bella he watched “an army that had been born in the fire of actual battle,” which impressed him much more than the formal military procession in Ethiopia. “I felt sure then, as I do now,” he wrote from jail fourteen years later, “that once our units, operating from a friendly territory, set their foot on our soil, they would grow in numbers and striking-power so rapidly that Verwoerd would be plagued by all the problems which once tormented Chiang Kai-shek, Ngo Diem, De Gaulle, Batista and the British.”30 He remained much influenced by the Algerian revolutionaries and by the advice of the Algerian military commander, Houari Boumedienne (who in 1965 would replace Ben Bella following a coup); after talking with him, he told Neville Alexander later in jail, he realized there was no point in trying to overthrow the apartheid regime: the ANC had to force them to the negotiating table—an argument which to the Trotskyist Alexander was “a red rag to a bull.”31
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