In My Own Time

by Jeremy Thorpe

  Suez and Menzies

  I was invited by the Australian High Commissioner, Alec Downer and his wife Mary, to come for lunch in their beautiful Wiltshire home to meet Robert Menzies, one of Australia’s most distinguished Prime Ministers. I was surprised but flattered to see that I was the only other guest invited. Clearly the old boy wanted to put me through my paces. ‘Well, young man’, said Menzies, ‘what future is there for your party?’ ‘Well’, I replied, here is something where you could be a real help. You should tell your Conservative colleagues in this country that Australia has a far more representative form of democracy by using proportional systems of voting – the alternative vote for the lower house and PR by single transferable vote for the Senate. Given that the UK adopted a fairer system of voting, the answer is that we would be in government sooner rather than later. For this reason you would find it very difficult to overcome their hostility to a more democratic voting system.’

  Menzies had been chairman of the Canal Users’ Association comprising 98 per cent of the users of the Suez Canal. It was clear that he wanted to discuss the Suez crisis. This arose with the announcement on 26 July 1956 by President Nasser of Egypt that he had nationalised the Anglo-French Suez Canal Company. He promised compensation but threatened the imprisonment of foreign canal employees if they quit their jobs. Nasser’s decision to seize the canal came in the wake of the refusal by Britain and the US to finance the building of the Aswan High Dam on the basis that the Egyptian economy was too weak to carry through the project. Nasser said that if the imperialist powers did not like what he had done, they could ‘choke to death on their fury’. Nasser went on to say that he would use the revenues from the canal to finance the building of the Dam. Anthony Eden’s reaction was that ‘a man with Colonel Nasser’s record’ cannot be allowed ‘to have his thumb on our windpipe’. The first diplomatic approach was by Bob Menzies, as head of a five-nation team. He took with him a plan for international control of the Suez Canal. Foster Dulles, the US Secretary of State, brought to London a not dissimilar plan, which suggested an international board association with the UN. Eden, for his part, made it clear that the use of force could not be ruled out and reservists were called up.

  On 31 October 1956, British Canberra bombers took off from Cyprus and made bombing raids over military airfields near Cairo and in the Canal Zone. The bombing followed the expiry of a twelve-hour ultimatum in which Britain and France called on Egypt and Israel, who had invaded the Canal Zone, to pull their forces back. The USA, supported by the USSR, tabled a resolution in the Security Council calling on all UN members to refrain from the use of force and to refrain from giving aid to Israel. Britain and France exercised their veto. By 6 November, Royal Marine Commandos had landed near Port Said, and the airfield on the outskirts of Port Said was soon under British control. Britain and France were subjected to enormous pressure to withdraw their forces and reluctantly agreed to a UN plan that allied troops would be replaced by an international force, 6,000-strong, from Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Colombia, Finland and India.

  Menzies asked me what I had advocated at the time. I told him that the arguments were very finely balanced, but it seemed to me more realistic to recognise the right of a country to nationalise its assets, subject always to the payment of adequate compensation. We should therefore have called for a three-man commission, composed of one nominated by the UK and France, one by Egypt and an agreed person nominated by the United Nations. Their job would be to hear and determine the level of compensation payable to the Suez Canal stockholders. Secondly, there should be a technical commission, nominated in the same manner, to discuss and recommend canal dues payable and maintenance standards required.

  At this stage Nasser had no idea whether he could carry on running the canal without the skills of foreign pilots. Our offer should be that if he accepted the deliberations of the first two commissions, then for our part, we would use our best endeavours to persuade the pilots to stay on. However, if he felt unable to accept these measures, a token sum of $100 million would be placed in a reserve account in Zurich. This would be used to meet the increased costs of ship-owners who would boycott the canal and go the long route round the Cape.

  I felt that this was a reasonable offer that Nasser could not risk refusing. Menzies was obviously intrigued and with admirable reserve said: ‘That would have been a very different hand of cards for me to have played’. As it was, he was given an almost impossible job.

  The prospect of lasting peace in the area came with the advent of President Anwar Sadat of Egypt, who was the most courageous man I have ever met. Certainly his historic visit to Israel, with his address to the Knesset in Jerusalem, was one of the most dramatic events of the century. Alas, along with Rabin and others, his work for peace in the Middle East was to cost him his life.

  Chapter Six

  Rhodesia

  Editor’s note: Southern Rhodesia, a self-governing colony since 1923, was slowly moving towards granting greater political rights to the black population when the ruling United Federal Party was defeated in 1962 by the more conservative Rhodesia Front, whose goal was Rhodesian independence under guaranteed minority rule. After several attempts to persuade Britain to grant independence, the RF government, now led by Ian Smith, announced a Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) on 11 November 1965. Britain declined to respond to UDI with force, instead attempting economic tactics such as ending the link between sterling and the Rhodesian currency and seizing assets. At Britain’s request, the UN imposed economic sanctions in 1968, but these were only partly successful.

  Nationalist guerrilla operations against the regime began in the early 1970s, and escalated after Mozambican independence in 1975 provided a valuable base for operations. Emergency measures adopted by the government to counter the fighting served to increase anti-government feeling. Under growing diplomatic, military and economic pressure, Smith finally accepted the necessity of an ‘internal settlement’ in 1979. Talks in London led to free elections in February 1980, and independence, under Robert Mugabe, in April 1980.

  Wilson at the dinner table

  One evening in May 1965 the House of Commons Members’ Dining Room was deserted except, unusually, for a number of Liberals having dinner at the Liberals’ table. At this point Harold Wilson, the Prime Minister, arrived and rather than eat in solitude he asked if he could join us. It was subsequently said by the cynics that he had only done this to butter up the Liberals to ensure their support in the lobbies. This was unfair and untrue, particularly as the reason he had come into the dining room was that the Downing Street kitchen was undergoing extensive alterations.

  I myself had just returned from Rhodesia and seized the opportunity of asking whether I might presume to tell him what was likely to happen in Rhodesia and how it might be tackled. He asked me to develop my theme and I told him that in six months’ time, i.e. by November 1965, Rhodesia, a Crown Colony since 1923, would make a unilateral declaration of independence from the UK. Once it happened, we would have lost and while at present the population was disorganised, in a year the whites would become a united nation.

  Three things needed to be done. First, the Rhodesian government must be assured that we were not asking for African majority rule overnight, but for partnership, based on merit. For example, if there was a public service commission of, say, twelve people, there should be four Africans. Similarly, with a Royal Commission, there should be adequate African representation. A senior Zambian minister had gloomily predicted that there would not be African majority rule for at least ten years to come. Halve the figure and halve it again, and we are still talking about two and a half years, by which time transitional arrangements leading to independence could be discussed and agreed. Secondly the Rhodesian government should be assured of the importance attached by the UK government to the financial investment made by the European population through the Commonwealth Development Corporation, for a prestige project like the heightening of the Kariba dam,
or building a steel mill, as evidence of our commitment. Thirdly – and I had discussed this with the Zambian government – there should be 1,500 British troops on manoeuvres and general training in Zambia, who at an hour’s notice, in the event of UDI, would be placed under the control of the Governor in Salisbury. I felt that this would be an effective deterrent. If it failed, the first shot to be fired at a British soldier would galvanise world opinion and give the British government complete freedom to act.

  The Prime Minister noted the points and said that in the event of UDI the UK government would take over responsibility for the government of Rhodesia and see that the Governor was provided with radio communication. I felt at the time that this was totally inadequate, and so it proved to be. UDI was declared in November 1965 and the illegal Smith regime was completely isolated and sanctions were applied.

  In the course of my next visit to Rhodesia in 1966, Her Majesty’s Government announced that there would be ‘talks about talks’. I obviously had no authority to speak on behalf of the government. However, the Rhodesian Front were anxious to discover how flexible the UK government might be. It was arranged that I should see Clifford du Pont, who had usurped the role of the Governor and was self-styled as ‘Officer administering the government’. I agreed, but made clear that since I did not accept the legality of his office, I would not meet him at his ministry. In fact it was arranged that I should see him at his home. I indicated that Rhodesia had been a self-governing colony since 1923 and that they alone had the power to time the advancement of the African community; not a single government had recognised Rhodesia’s declaration of independence, and this included the Republic of South Africa; that sanctions, although admittedly breachable, had slowed up economic growth and investment. What had been gained by UDI? His reply was surprising: ‘Certainty.’ I commented that it was a certainty that they would be treated as an international pariah. What compromise, if any, was the Rhodesian Front prepared to make? I gathered from our subsequent discussion that very little was on offer. He asked me how flexible Her Majesty’s Government was likely to be. Since Harold Wilson had ruled out the use of force, he assumed that this was binding. I reflected to myself that Her Majesty’s Government had an unhappy record of changing and/or reversing policies, and found it reasonable to say that they, the Rhodesians, should rule out nothing. The future of the Commonwealth was at stake and with it the future of racial partnership throughout the Commonwealth.

  After an hour’s discussion it was clear that one would not get very much further. I asked whether we could ring for a taxi. ‘Please take my car and driver’, said du Pont. This turned out to be an Austin Princess, the property of the Governor, which du Pont had taken for his own use. I replied that I was going to see the Chief Justice, Sir Hugh Beadle. In fact, Beadle had taken up residence in Government House, and was currently backing the Governor, Sir Humphrey Gibbs. I was to dine with both of them that evening. ‘Where do you want to be taken?’ asked du Pont. ‘Government House’, I replied. ‘There is no Government House’, said du Pont. ‘That’s a matter of opinion’, I replied. ‘We are both lawyers, and I reckon that my argument would prevail’. ‘Tell the driver where you want to go’, said du Pont. ‘Government House’, I replied. ‘Yes, bwana’, said the beaming driver. We were off.

  Gibbs had no security guard, and was reduced to one loyal ADC, who acted as secretary and was charged with the ceremonial duties which remained, such as lowering the Union Jack at sunset, and raising it at sunrise. A group of ladies regularly come to Government House to arrange the flowers and to help with the cleaning. In the meantime, Gibbs had refused to leave his post. I swept in unchallenged to Government House to find Gibbs waiting for me at the main door. He looked somewhat perplexed and said: ‘Isn’t that my car?’ ‘Yes’, I replied, ‘I am returning stolen property. Give me another week and I’ll get the Rolls back!’

  After the conclusion of dinner, Gibbs rose and, turning to a portrait of the Queen, proposed the loyal toast. He was convinced that the ‘talks about talks’ would be a success and would lead to an overall settlement, which all reasonable people hoped for. I indicated that I did not think that there was a hope in hell of reaching a settlement, because one was not dealing with reasonable people. I respectfully reminded Sir Humphrey that Ian Smith had asked for a declaration of emergency. It was asked for on the basis that it was not a prelude to declaring unilateral independence. Having obtained the emergency powers, he promptly declared unilateral independence. I intended on my return to give my assessment to the Prime Minister, Harold Wilson, who was, I believed, also over-optimistic about the chances of a settlement.

  In a lighter moment, I asked Lady Gibbs whether there was anything she was short of as a consequence of sanctions. ‘Elastic’, she said. I undertook to get a consignment brought out by the next British negotiator. On my return I told Elwyn Jones, the Attorney General of Her Majesty’s Government, that I was tempted to table a question, to ask the Attorney whether he was aware that the Hon. Member for North Devon intended to breach sanctions by supplying elastic to reinforce the underwear of ladies loyal to the Crown!

  Beadle was to desert Gibbs and transfer allegiance to the rebel regime. Gibbs was left even more isolated, but his loyalty to the Crown came first. He was one of the few people who came out of this episode with dignity and integrity intact.

  Rhodesia 1966: ‘Bomber Thorpe’

  As a result of a speech I made on Rhodesia at the Liberal Party Assembly on 23 September 1966, I was called ‘Bomber Thorpe’. I said, and for the record I quote in full:

  It is now more than ten months since Rhodesia illegally declared independence. The purpose of this resolution is to advocate measures which will end that rebellion swiftly, effectively and without bloodshed. Why is it imperative to do so?

  Since the war Britain has granted independence to 700 million people.

  Today, the Commonwealth comprises twenty-four independent nations drawn from every continent in the world. Despite its imperfections, it remains the most hopeful and the most valuable experiment in bringing together people of all races and of widely differing living standards.

  For the British people the choice is simple yet stark. Do they want to preserve that Commonwealth or do they want to perpetuate the Smith regime? They cannot have both. In southern Africa, do they want to allow 200,000 Europeans to create a miniature South Africa in Rhodesia or do they want 150,000 Europeans to continue to live in racial partnership in the seven black Commonwealth countries surrounding Rhodesia? I know the answer of a Liberal – I think I know the answer of a socialist, I sometimes wish I could be more confident of the reply of a Conservative.

  In fairness to the Conservative record, a former Premier of Rhodesia, Mr Winston Field, was told before UDI that ‘the present difficulty arises from the desire of Rhodesia to secure independence on the basis of a franchise which is incomparably more restrictive than that of any other British territory to which independence has hitherto been granted’. The statement was that of Mr Duncan Sandys, when Secretary for Commonwealth Relations.

  We are insisting that independence must first be preceded by universal adult suffrage. Mr Smith himself provides the reason. In April 1964 he declared that he did not believe there would be an African government in his lifetime – on 29 October 1965, he told the British Prime Minister that even if a referendum declared against independence on the basis of the 1961 constitution, he would feel free to reject it; and on the same day he made it clear that if he felt majority rule would be realised prematurely he must be free to arrest this process. In short, no constitution would be worth the paper it was written on. Having torn up the constitution he now asks for the exclusive power to amend my other. In the light of Mr Smith’s intractable opinions, how can anyone seriously suggest that any honourable or lasting agreement can now be reached through discussions? We would in fact be giving unlimited power to those who have already used their illegal independence to censor the press; to detain men without
trial or charge for up to five years; to interfere with academic freedom; to perpetuate the hated Land Apportionment Act; and to clothe themselves in what Mr Heath, in one of his more candid moments, referred to as the trappings of a police state. And if Mr Heath’s own right wing have now caused him to modify that view, let him read the report of Amnesty International on police methods and prison conditions for political prisoners and restrictees.

  In short, nothing less than universal suffrage would provide adequate guarantees against retrogressive amendments of African rights, and nothing less will now enable us to discharge our responsibilities towards the four million Africans.