by Ian Smith
If, in the end, the British did decide to appease the black extremists and renege on all their promises, then at least we Southern Rhodesians could fall back on our independence, which had been offered to us on many occasions and which had been the alternative to Federation. There were still many who believed that this should have been our choice in the first place, but once the die was cast we all worked together in order to ensure success.
There were a few odd happenings in the two northern territories. Hastings Banda returned to Nyasaland (Malawi) from his self-imposed exile in Britain (July 1958) and Kenneth Kaunda was beginning to flex his muscles in Northern Rhodesia, but this, after all, was part of African politics.
By the end of the year, however, it was clear that insurrection was being organised and co-ordinated in all three territories, and unfortunately the territorial governments were slow to react. The typical Christmas and New Year atmosphere prevailed, and the agitators took advantage of this.
Early in the New Year the position continued to deteriorate and things were getting out of hand. As a result of pressure from the Federal government action was taken. States of emergencies were proclaimed in all three territories. Banda and Kaunda were arrested at the instigation of the British government, and a number of the trouble-makers were rounded up in Southern Rhodesia. Because the problem had not been nipped in the bud, it turned out to be more serious than it should have been.
While it is most desirable to show great patience and tolerance when dealing with people and their problems, one must always be on guard against subversion and terrorism. Terrorists are adept at using the freedom inherent in our philosophy and constitution in order to subvert freedom. Intimidation is a dreadful instrument, and it is used most expertly by those who are disciples of the philosophy of communism, or fascism, or Nazism — there is no difference between them. They are all dictatorships which believe in the ‘one-party state’ philosophy: once power is seized, it is held for ever, and anyone who dissents receives a clear message: change your mind, or else!
When you live in Africa, where the majority of the adult population is still illiterate and does not understand a Western democratic system that is foreign to it, and where the vast mass of the people live in rural areas with no electricity, minimal means of communication, where the forces of law and order are few and far apart, the ground is fertile for terrorists. So while the administration of justice must always be scrupulously fair, it must be firm and prompt if you are going to get the message over that your decent law-abiding citizens will be protected against the gangsters and the bully-boys. And the more primitive and simple the society you are dealing with, the greater the need for positive and swift action. Even more important is the need for anticipation, in order to ensure that trouble can be forestalled, because once it gets into its stride it is extremely difficult to contain.
When dealing with law and order, and justice, it is important to emphasise the need to be on the side of law-abiding citizens, as opposed to the criminals. I come down heavily in support of those who believe that our modern system of justice tends to lean over towards the law-breaker. So while supporting impartiality in the administration of justice, as depicted in our coat of arms showing the scales evenly balanced in the centre, if we have to choose between the good guy and the bad guy, there should be no equivocation.
Once firm action was taken, law and order was restored. However, the fellow-travellers in Britain took their cue, and in their turn started their agitation, of a different kind from that practised in Africa, in order to pressurise the British government. It had the desired effect, and the government, in spite of the fact that they (the Conservatives) had increased their majority at the general election in October 1959, decided to appease their critics and appoint a Royal Commission to advise on the future of the Federation. This is a classical tactic of governments which lack the courage of their convictions: they pass the buck. Clearly this devious manoeuvre should have been resisted, especially as it had been written into our Federal agreement that there would be a review conference in 1960.
Welensky made the tactical error of agreeing, and the Commission, under the chairmanship of Monckton, arrived in Salisbury in February 1960. Harold Macmillan, the British PM, had already departed from London on his trip to Africa, visiting Ghana, Nigeria, Kenya and our Federation, and ending in South Africa where he made his famous ‘Winds of Change’ speech. Clearly this was a signal to Monckton, who was an old, trusted friend of his, an able lawyer who had a reputation of being a skilled negotiator and tactician. A sudden dramatic change in Britain’s colonial policy emerged, and the most outrageous thing of all was that it was not the Labour Party, but the Conservatives, our ‘trusted’ friends, who were the architects of the plan.
The Monckton Report of September 1960 pointed to factors which were aggravating relations between the territories and which could have been handled. But then it almost nonchalantly made the ‘suggestion’ that the British government should be prepared to permit secession. This, of course, was absolutely Machiavellian, and in total conflict with the repeated agreements and promises of the British government. The principle of ‘no secession’ had been repeated and clearly underlined, only the previous year, in the agreement which Welensky brought back from London as a result of his talks with the British PM Macmillan.
There could be no doubt in anybody’s mind that the writing was on the wall. A new move had already been made in Nyasaland, giving the blacks a majority in their legislative council. The obvious tactic now was to strengthen the relationship between the two Rhodesias — this, after all, was what we had originally wanted, but Nyasaland was thrown into the deal by the British because it was not viable and too small to stand on its own!
The Formation of the
Rhodesian Front
In contrast to the sounding of the Federal death-knell, the position in Southern Rhodesia was strengthened at a conference held in Salisbury in February 1961, with Duncan Sandys in the chair and, surprisingly, the black leaders Nkomo and Ndabaningi Sithole participating. A new constitution was agreed with a complicated voting system involving an ‘A roll’ and a ‘B roll’, with a cross-voting influence. I disliked the racial connotation, and thought it would have been preferable to retain our own system of a non-racial common voters’ roll. But there were some important concessions along the road to our ultimate independence, and in the final analysis this was our main objective. The remaining UK government’s reserve powers were eliminated, with a few minor exceptions. In return Rhodesia accepted a Declaration of Rights, justiciable by the Privy Council, and a local Constitutional Council which could report on discriminatory Bills. To this there was no objection. The convention that Britain would legislate for us only if we so requested was formally endorsed by the Commonwealth Secretary.
There was, however, an all-important omission: a guarantee of our independence in the event of the break-up of the Federation. The excuse given, that such inclusion would have provoked an acceptance of the fact, was especially hollow in view of the Monckton Report. We would live to regret this weakness.
Of interest is the fact that the black leaders signed the agreement on 7 February 1961, only to renege on it a few days later. Moreover, they sent out messages to black voters to boycott the voters’ rolls.
Our government was committed to putting the new constitution to a referendum of the electorate, and I was quite clear in my mind that I was unable to support it. The first step was to submit it to a special party congress held in Salisbury, and I was the only dissenting voice out of 400 delegates. A number of my Federal colleagues, including some ministers, while conceding that they had reservations, believed that they had to stand by Whitehead and the territorial government. Even the senior statesman Lord Malvern had advised against bringing in a new constitution. But Whitehead was immovable.
A few weeks after the congress, I went to speak to Welensky. I had known him for many years, I was the government Chief Whip and had always ha
d good relations with him. I spoke at some length about my misgivings over the new constitution, and told him of my disappointment that some of my Federal colleagues, while indicating their reservations, felt obliged to go along with it. Surely, I said, we should make a decision on principle, and not for the convenience of Whitehead and his associates. Accepting Welensky’s special concern about Northern Rhodesia, I argued that any weakening of the Southern Rhodesian position could only be to the detriment of Northern Rhodesia. I told him that, in the short time since the congress, a number of delegates had approached me to say that on reflection they now realised they had wrongly assessed the position and should have voted against the constitution. People were looking for a lead, I urged, and he was the one to give it. More time would enable us to correct the flaws and omissions in Whitehead’s plan, and at the same time we could work on strengthening Northern Rhodesia’s position.
I was one of those who had always believed that bringing the two Rhodesias together was what really mattered, and that Nyasaland would probably be better on its own. One only had to look at the map; their future was east not west. Roy nodded his head, and took time before replying, saying that the matter had given him great concern and precipitated much soul-searching. As I no doubt knew, he said, he and his cabinet colleagues did have serious reservations, and in this they were joined by Malvern, but sadly they had been unable to influence Edgar. While on the surface Whitehead might have appeared soft and pliable, once he had made up his mind he became immune to other ideas, almost as if he had been ‘God sent’.
Roy’s problem, or weakness, so he said, was the fact that all his political life had been spent in Northern Rhodesia. He represented a Northern Rhodesian constituency, and he feared that if he came out in opposition to Whitehead and the territorial government he would be accused of intruding into our affairs, and this would be resented by Southern Rhodesians. I found it difficult to accept this, pointing out that the majority of his team were Southern Rhodesians, and the old warhorse, Malvern, would support such a move, as would other distinguished Southern Rhodesians, including, so I had been told, retired Chief Justice Tredgold. I felt strongly that the time had come to have the courage of our convictions and make a stand on principle.
My remarks seemed to have stirred him, and smarting a little, he said: ‘Let me remind you that I was born in this country, the same as you, and the good of our country is always uppermost in my mind. I have worked with these blacks in the political field longer than most people, so I know what I am talking about when I say that I am not prepared to hand over to them. Personally I could not live in a country where they were in control.’ He sat back in his chair for a few moments, I think regretting the statement, made in an emotional moment. ‘Make no mistake,’ he continued, ‘we believe in the same principles, but I have to deal with the practicalities of how to cope with the problem.’
Clearly, there was no point in continuing the discussion, so I thanked him for seeing me, and expressed the hope that he would give further consideration to my suggestions. As I strolled down to Parliament from the Prime Minister’s office, my spirits were low — it would not be easy if all the big guns were on the other side. I recalled words that I had heard on more than one occasion: the problem with Welensky was that his big talk was never backed up by action. Let’s hope that it will be different this time, I thought, because usually you get the best out of a man when he has his back to the wall. But certainly that morning’s meeting left me frustrated and depressed, since he exhibited all the signs of a beaten man.
The campaign for the referendum on the new Southern Rhodesian constitution was warming up, and the composition of those in opposition was indeed interesting: on the left were ex-Chief Justice Tredgold and Garfield Todd; on the right were Winston Field and the Dominion Party, with Nkomo and Sithole and the black nationalists adding their weight. So I found myself in the company of strange bedfellows!
The vote was taken on 26 July and resulted in a convincing ‘Yes’ vote for Whitehead — not surprising, as he received the full support of Welensky and the Federal machine. One of the gimmicks used by them was: VOTE NO FOR NKOMO. Clearly, this was a vote catcher for them. Nkomo himself and his National Democratic Party (the successor to the banned ANC) had held their own obviously unofficial referendum three days before, on Sunday 23 July. In an atmosphere of farce, with those who voted doing so several times, Nkomo secured a ‘No’ vote. It heightened tension and produced riots in which the police were forced to fire for the first time since 1897, killing two rioters.
Whitehead had his ‘Yes’, but when the legislation passed through the British Parliament to give effect to the agreement it deviated substantially from what had been agreed. The British legal drafters had inserted Section III, which retained for the United Kingdom the right to intervene by Order-in-Council, everything else to the contrary in the constitution notwithstanding. By the time this was discovered by our legal ministry, the thing was a fait accompli. I need to emphasise here that the White Paper, Command 1399 (on which the Southern Rhodesian electorate voted) stated explicitly that the proposed new constitution will eliminate all the reserve powers at present vested in the Government of the United Kingdom, with the exception of those affecting the position of the Sovereign and the Governor and the right of the British Government to safeguard the position regarding international obligations and undertakings given by the Government of Southern Rhodesia in respect of loans under the Colonial Stock Acts.
It was accepted that these reservations would be removed only with our final independence, or dominion status.
Our electorate was repeatedly assured during the election campaign, by Whitehead, Welensky, and even the Governor Sir Humphrey Gibbs, among many others, that ‘the White Paper contained the provisions of the new constitution’.
They told us that ‘this constitution represents independence for Southern Rhodesia in the event of the Federation being dissolved’. Welensky is on record as saying: ‘The provisions of the constitution are that future amendments to our constitution will rest with us here in Southern Rhodesia. I wasn’t going to leave that power in London for all the tea in China, because you might have a Labour government one day which would be quite agreeable to making changes which were unacceptable to us.’
Meanwhile, to the north of us, things were not going all that smoothly. In the spirit of Macmillan’s ‘Winds of Change’ speech, the Belgian government decided that the time had come for them to pull out of the Congo. Tragically, instead of an organised plan for withdrawal and transfer of power, they allowed a state of panic to develop, leading to chaos and a stampede, with the white people being caught up in the usual pillage, murder and rape associated with such events. The responsible authority took the first plane back home, and simply abandoned all commitments. The refugees poured down through the two Rhodesias, where emergency committees were set up to provide accommodation, food and medical facilities. It was the latter half of 1960. This event had a profound effect on our people, making them realise all the more positively the danger of capitulating to the metropolitan powers, who were ready to cut and run at the drop of a hat.
For some time prior to this Welensky had been working on a scheme for the secession of the copper-rich Katanga province of the Congo, and adding it to the adjoining Northern Rhodesian copper belt as part of the Federation. It was a pleasant piece of fantasy, but never likely to be realised. Even Welensky had now to concede its termination.
On the home front, Whitehead was confident, even defiant, after his resounding victory in the referendum for the new constitution, and he was gearing himself for the coming general election. He passed legislation removing redundant racial discrimination, and embarked on his well-publicised ‘Build a Nation’ campaign, encouraging black people to participate in the new scheme, which for the first time in our history included special seats for our blacks and incorporated a system whereby black votes had a limited influence on white seats, or more correctly, common roll se
ats.
But as usual, Whitehead was failing to adjust to the realities surrounding him. The black nationalist leaders were urging a boycott of the election, and in characteristic fashion were mounting campaigns to out-intimidate each other. There was a marked increase in violence generally, with a special emphasis on arson, a particularly evil weapon against people living in wooden shacks with grass roofs.
White resistance had already strengthened because of the Congo débâcle, and this kind of local barbarism exacerbated their feelings. The fact that Nyasaland already had a Parliament with a black majority, and that the same process was under way for Northern Rhodesia, meant that more alarm bells were ringing. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that our black agitators believed that these changes in the two northern territories were forerunners of what was coming their way, resulting in an increase in their militancy and subversion. Accordingly, white voter antagonism was growing, and the campaign for black voter resistance was succeeding. Thus, Whitehead’s strategy of gaining support from black voters by means of the new cross-voting procedure was in jeopardy.
Meanwhile Welensky was engaged in a bitter conflict with the British government to secure the Federation of the two Rhodesias, and while it was absolutely clear that he had right on his side, it was equally clear that this was of little consequence when dealing with British politicians. I certainly wished him well in his efforts, but from my position on the outside, things did not look well. There was talk within the ranks of the party, including among cabinet ministers, that everybody was absolutely fed up, nauseated by the British government’s deviousness, and that a plan was being considered to take matters into our own hands — and this plan had Welensky’s blessing.
