by Ian Smith
The mission was accomplished sooner than expected and, apart from a few skirmishes with the Matabele on their western flank, the problems were much as would reasonably be expected on such a pioneering expedition. Such problems led to the short, sharp war of 1893, in which the Matabele were conquered. The people the pioneers met in the eastern part of the country, collectively known as Shonas, because there was a common thread through the various dialects used which came to be known as the Shona language, were friendly and gave a cautious welcome to the newcomers. Lingering dissatisfaction among the conquered Matabele led to an uprising in Matabeleland that coincided with Dr Jameson’s ill-fated raid into the Transvaal in 1896, in an attempt to topple the government of Paul Kruger. The unrest spread to some of the Shona. The Matabeles were quickly subdued and pacified by intervention from Rhodes. The Shona took longer to defeat. Once the uprising was over in 1897, peace reigned. Indeed the police would not have recourse to arms until 1962, when African nationalists began to use violence in their campaign for power.
Gradually the pioneers started spreading out, looking for gold, which was the main attraction, and land to start producing food. Among them were my uncle, George, who trekked up from the Cape in 1894, and my father, Jock Smith, who joined him in 1898. There was no friction, because the local black people knew nothing about mining, and were interested and fascinated at the white man’s digging. In fact, they were happy to have the opportunity to work and, for the first time in their lives, earn money which enabled them to join in the excitement of this new adventure of purchasing and selling — something they had not previously known. Land was plentiful, so there was no problem over crop growing, which again provided an opportunity to earn money. Moreover, because of the primitive agricultural implements used by the black people, which were wooden as opposed to the iron used by the white man, they were concentrated on the light sandy or loam soils, which they found easier to work. The white man, on the other hand, preferred the heavier soils.
Wherever the new settlers went, the first thing they did was to raise the Union Jack. This was part of pioneering a new country — something in which the people back in Britain had never participated. Nor did they know anything about the spirit of nationalism associated with the opening up of new lands in the name of monarch and country. These were the things that motivated pride and a belief in nationalism. There was feeling of duty to believe in a cause, to make a stand to support and defend it. Again, for the people back in Britain this was a stimulation which they had never experienced.
Certainly, pioneers by nature were the kind of people who sought a challenge in preference to the humdrum sheltered life, with its security based in the knowledge that one lived in a society that provided protection and insulation from external forces. So our foundations were built by people with strong, individual character, with that important quality of having the courage of their convictions — British people who were playing their part in building the British Empire, the greatest force for good the world had ever known. Britain, a small island off the coast of Europe, this mighty atom which had spread its Western Christian civilisation over half the globe, introducing proper standards of freedom, of justice, and the basics of education, health and hygiene. And right now, here in the centre of southern Africa, the dark continent, men of British stock were once more carrying the torch on one of the few frontiers yet to be civilised.
Clearly, this was no place for faint-hearted men, those who were not dedicated, or were not inspired by the cause they were serving. They had to be convinced that if they were not God-sent, then at least it was the next best thing, sent by their queen and country to spread British civilisation.
So it was not surprising that the sons of these pioneers were more British than the British. That was how we were all brought up and taught to live. When you walked past the Union Jack — and it was in the forefront of most buildings of any consequence — you looked at it, and admired it. All formal occasions commenced with the national anthem ‘God Save the King’, with everyone standing to attention, and if you moved there would be a restraining hand on your shoulder.
Law and order in your society, discipline at your school, play the game by your fellow man, you cannot let your team down, and in the final analysis it may even be necessary to die for your cause. Those were the conditions under which you lived, under which, as a member of the British Empire, you were privileged to live.
However, there was associated with us an unusual and interesting anomaly, for we were never governed directly from Whitehall, and therefore never came within the category of being a colony. We were governed by the Charter Company, the company formed by Rhodes, with the concurrence, indeed encouragement, of the British government, to establish a settlement in the country lying north of the Limpopo, east of Bechuanaland, and south of the Zambezi.
At the end of the First World War in 1918, Rhodesia was prospering and developing in all spheres of life and the settlers were beginning to talk about managing their own affairs, governing themselves. The performance of Rhodesians all round had been exemplary. The economy was well managed, development was planned and there was steady progress. There was a history of harmonious race relations and, in the recent war, Rhodesians had made a contribution second to none. With a record such as this, declared the British government, a move for self-government could only be supported. As a result of negotiations with the British government and the Charter Company, it was decided that Rhodesians should be given the option of either joining the Union of South Africa as a fifth province, or being granted ‘responsible government’. The latter was a unique offer of what the British termed quasi-dominion status. Rhodesians were advised that such a constitution would give them the benefits of dominion status, but relieve them of the economic burden of foreign affairs and diplomatic missions throughout the world, which would prove intolerable to their small economy. The British would do this job for them, and no problems were envisaged. It was worth a trial.
In 1922 the choice was put to the Rhodesian people through a referendum. In spite of personal intervention by General Jan Smuts, then Prime Minister of South Africa, who visited the country and addressed meetings, using his great wisdom and personal charm in an effort to convince Rhodesians to opt for joining the Union, Rhodesians voted by a majority of 2:1 for ‘responsible government’. They voted with their hearts, not their heads. There were too many non-Britishers in South Africa, the Afrikaners, and Rhodesians were not prepared to accept such a change of national character. Smuts and some of his associates were all right, but what about the others? It would be better to maintain them as friends, as always in the past, but retain our British identity — Rhodesian loyalty was not negotiable.
It is easy to be wise through hindsight, but clearly Rhodesians made the wrong decision. The practical and economic benefits of joining the Union, obvious at that time, would have materialised and even exceeded predictions. With the advantages of being part of a larger and more diversified economy, access to transport and harbour facilities, elimination of customs and trade barriers, retaining our Commonwealth preferences — because South Africa at that time was part of the British Empire — things could only have improved.
II: THE FATAL TURNING POINT: 1948
Given the nature of the Rhodesian electorate, and its antipathy towards Afrikaner nationalism, the incorporation of Rhodesia into the Union of South Africa in 1923 could have significantly influenced the outcome of the crucial first post-Second World War election in South Africa. In 1948, Smuts’s United Party government was ousted by Daniel Malan’s Afrikaner National Party by a narrow margin of three seats. This unexpected victory for Afrikaner nationalism had a profound effect on the history of southern Africa in a variety of ways.
The election result was a shock, not only to South African opinion but world opinion. It was a surprise even to the victorious Afrikaner National Party, which was not really prepared for the event. There was, however, a precedent: the British had rejected the
ir great war hero, Churchill. South Africans followed suit. Such is the ingratitude, the unpredictability, the illogicality of human beings. The defeat of the Smuts government was one of the most profound events affecting the history of Africa. Had Rhodesia been the ‘fifth province’, Smuts would have won that election. There can be no doubt that Rhodesians would have voted solidly for the United Party, and their representation of twelve to fifteen seats would have made the crucial difference.
It is interesting to prognosticate on how such an event would have changed history. At the end of the war, in 1945, the Smuts government had chartered Union Castle liners to bring immigrants to South Africa. Many people in Britain and Europe were disenchanted with the post-war life, overcrowding, shortages, rationing. Many had done war service in Africa, with its pleasant climate and open spaces. So this presented a wonderful opportunity for developing countries to gain a high calibre of immigrant. Rhodesia doubled its white population in a space of nine years. Sadly, we then got caught up in the dissolution of our Federation (which had been formed after 1948 with Northern Rhodesia — now Zambia — and Nyasaland — now Malawi). Our subsequent Declaration of Independence in 1965 brought our immigration to a standstill. Australia exploited the situation, and, although they did not match the Rhodesian immigration figures, their population doubled in approximately twenty years.
However, when the National Party came to power in South Africa, they immediately halted Smuts’s immigration plan. Their reasoning was that the immigrants would be United Party supporters, so this had to be prevented. Many prominent members of the National Party conceded to me subsequently that this was their greatest mistake. It was a decision made in haste, by people who lacked the wisdom and foresight which comes with experience. Had they allowed continued immigration, South Africa’s white population today would have been around 15 million, instead of 6 million. With all of its wonderful rich natural resources, coupled with the professionalism, expertise and skills of immigrants from western Europe, South Africa could have been one of the great industrial nations of the world. And of vital importance, with the population ratio of white to black being 1:2, as opposed to the present 1:5, the political problem would have been significantly reduced. Moreover, under the United Party philosophy South Africa would never have fallen into the apartheid trap — with leaders such as Smuts and de Villiers Graaf they would have steered their traditional policy of allowing the various races to preserve their history, culture and traditions, without provoking hostility or offending human dignity and feelings, and the Coloured and Asian communities would not have been ejected from the white camp.
There was one other significant fact. Early in my political career I remember listening to Sir Godfrey Huggins talking to a group of MPs, philosophising over the National Party’s victory at the polls in 1948. Clearly, he was sad at the defeat of his old colleague Smuts, and at the new trend which was developing in South Africa, which would not be conducive to bringing our countries closer. But most interesting was his comment on South West Africa. Because of South Africa’s contribution during the war just ended, its loyalty and dedication to the cause of freedom, going back as far as the First World War, and because of the very high standing of General Smuts, regarded as one of the great statesmen of the world — an undertaking was given that South West Africa would be handed over for incorporation into the Union as a fifth province. It was logical: South Africa had controlled the territory since the First World War, when it took it over from the Germans on behalf of the Allies, and South West African MPs were elected and sat in the Parliament in Cape Town, as the other South African MPs did. To all intents and purposes it had been part of South Africa for the past thirty years, although technically it was a mandated territory. Huggins believed that this plan would now end. In view of the new government’s announced reactionary policy, and their record of opposition to Smuts’s war effort, neither Britain nor any of the other allies would now support the plan. Moreover, added Huggins, certain Rhodesians were airing the possibility of resurrecting the idea of 1923, to take Rhodesia into the Union. ‘Any such idea has now been dashed,’ he added sombrely.
This presents another interesting facet to the drama of southern Africa, one which significantly changed history. The Central African Federation would never have come about. Rhodesia’s independence would have been consolidated with that of South Africa. The terrorist war waged by the African nationalists and their communist allies against Rhodesia, and then South West Africa, and the use of them both as an entrée to South Africa, would not have started. The Organisation of African Union (OAU), aided and abetted by the communists, used the so-called illegality of Rhodesia and South West Africa as a means of gaining sympathy, support and financial assistance for their terrorist attacks. These gained legitimacy and respect through the communist propaganda machine, which brainwashed governments and people alike. Even the free world was bluffed into believing that the terrorists — who were, in fact, a group of Marxist-Leninist gangsters — had justice and the ideals of freedom as their objective. Accordingly, Portugal’s position in Mozambique and Angola would have been more secure. Instead of a panic flight and surrender to the communists, the Portuguese government would have succeeded in their policy of evolution, bringing in the local people as they qualified to accept responsibility. Thus the dreadful disasters of Angola and Mozambique would have been prevented.
That emotional vote in 1948, in which many of the South Africans who had supported Smuts during the war — even fought alongside him — turned against him in the first post-war election, remains an unfathomed enigma to this day.
In fact, although the National Party won a tiny majority of seats, the United Party won quite a considerable majority of votes nationwide. But because of the loading of votes in favour of rural constituencies, they lost the election.
It is fascinating to philosophise on how the history of southern Africa would have been significantly different if the United Party had gained just two more seats in that momentous election. 1948 was certainly a turning point in the history of Africa, one that was to have significant ramifications for many other parts of the world.
From Innocence
to Experience
I: MY YOUNGER YEARS:
SCHOOL, UNIVERSITY AND RUGBY OR ROWING?
Such was the political and historical backdrop to my life in Rhodesia. My younger years there were pretty average, in keeping with the kind of background I have outlined. My elder sisters, Phyllis and Joan, and I grew up in the small rural town of Selukwe where my father, Jock, had eventually settled after coming out from Scotland to Rhodesia to join my uncle, George, in 1898. It was in Selukwe that my father met my mother, Agnes, the daughter of a local miner, Tom Hodgson. They travelled to the Hodgson family home, in Cumberland in England, to marry in 1911. My parents strove to instil principles and moral virtues, the sense of right and wrong, of integrity, in their children. They set wonderful examples to live up to and both of them would be awarded MBEs for service to their community and their country.
Blessed with drive, energy and ability, my father ran butcheries and bakeries at four mines in the district. He owned a farm, a mine and the town’s garage. He kept and bred race horses and was a rider of some repute. For example, as a gentleman rider, he beat the local jockeys to win the Coronation Derby in Salisbury that celebrated the accession to the throne of George V in 1911. His love of horses and cattle was not surprising, as he had the reputation as being one of the best judges of livestock in Rhodesia. He judged cattle for forty years at the annual Bulawayo and Salisbury shows. As if this were not enough, he was a captain in the local defence volunteers and the chairman of the rugby and cricket clubs. He served on the town management board. His efforts to raise money for war funds after 1939, as chairman of the National War Fund, earned him his MBE.
My mother was not to be outdone because, among other things, she founded the Selukwe Branch of the Women’s Institute, which provided many voluntary services, includi
ng staffing and equipping the local lending library which supplied reading matter to the whole district. Life, however, was not exclusively composed of service and duty; as with all small communities, there were weekly dances, sport, picnics and the like.
At Chaplin School in Gwelo the subjects which appealed to me most were maths and science, as opposed to the arts and classics. My real strength, however, was in sport, and I did reasonably well in many disciplines. I think it can fairly be said that because of my dedication to sport, my academic career suffered. Right from the beginning I had a facility for running, and of course this is an asset in most sports. There was also some ball-sense, and I could hit a cricket, tennis, or golf ball. So I was quite well equipped for Rhodesia’s two national sports: rugby in winter and cricket in summer. In all our secondary schools those two sports were part of the curriculum, and one could evade them only by producing a medical certificate. Other sports were optional. This is clearly the reason why so many Rhodesians excelled in these two sports, a number becoming great rugby and cricket Springboks.
It was the custom each year for one of the top South African schools to send its rugby team on a tour, playing against Rhodesian schools. During my final year, Chaplin beat the visiting team — I think the only Rhodesian team to do so — and, as the captain of the school XV, I was the recipient of an honours award. It was indeed a very special occasion.
In my first term at Rhodes University, Grahamstown, in South Africa, in 1938 athletics predominated, and I performed relatively well in the championships. I had done 100 yards in ten seconds as a schoolboy in Rhodesia the previous year, so if I could knock off a tenth of a second each year there was hope, so I thought! At that time the world record was 9.4 seconds.
