by Ian Smith
Both Wilson and Bottomley, no doubt through frustration, accused me of dishonesty and untrustworthiness. But they could not substantiate their claims. Wilson went further and stated that he was not prepared to have any dealings with me or any other members of my government. History was to prove him wrong.
Meanwhile, the British government’s actions and threats against us had given an impetus to terrorist activities. The Minister of Law and Order, Lardner-Burke, had stated that approximately 800 men had left for terrorist training in Russia, China and Libya. Some had already been infiltrated back into the country, with the result that there was a growing incidence of subversive activities. It was important to note that these had started well before 11 November, so clearly terrorism was not caused by our declaration of independence. In fact the record shows that it first reared its ugly head during the period when Garfield Todd was Prime Minister, and the first terrorist incursion across the Zambezi into northern Matabeleland was during Whitehead’s term of office. So all the stories which circulated in profusion, saying that black resistance and terrorism were triggered off by our ‘unconstitutional’ declaration of independence, were part of communism’s propaganda attempts to give some respectability to their acts of terror. They claimed that these were not committed against constitutional governments in Rhodesia, but only against the illegal post-UDI government. And tragically, Wilson and his government were giving them encouragement — this was endorsed by evidence we obtained from captured terrorists. Lardner-Burke’s report indicated that violence and intimidation were increasing. Factories and transport seemed to top the list of targets, and the grenades and explosive devices used there were of Russian manufacture. Chiefs, Headmen and other loyal black people had been subjected to arson, intimidation and cruel destruction of their livestock. Government forests had been set on fire; this was particularly perverse, since it amounted to the destruction of the terrorists’ own national heritage. As Lardner-Burke said, ‘We cannot stand idly by and allow communist-inspired terrorism and insurrection to sabotage our nation, and the most effective way of combating this is by utilising the state of emergency. Any other civilised country in similar circumstances would do likewise.’ The encroachment of communism down the continent of Africa was gathering momentum, and it was important for those countries that believed in freedom to stand together in order to hold back the evil tide.
Then we were confronted with a vile new problem: a constant stream of subversive propaganda from Radio Zambia, enticing Rhodesians to resort to violence and sabotage, to burn down factories and tobacco barns, destroy power lines, murder white farmers. What made it especially evil was the fact that Zambian Broadcasting was not only subsidised by the British government, but they also provided equipment and personnel: their director of broadcasting, for example, was seconded from the BBC.
Wilson’s next move was to impose oil sanctions, something which had previously been considered but, as we will see, was not well thought out. He struck a bargain with US President Johnson that, in return for British support of America’s Vietnam policy, Johnson would assist with the oil embargo. This was just one more excellent example of how Rhodesia was being used as a political shuttlecock by outside countries, and how the leaders of so-called free world countries could lend themselves to corrupt decisions in order to win support for their own policies. America had no interest in or desire to do anything about Rhodesia. The British were unconcerned about Vietnam. But their leaders were dragging their countries into both these conflicts for their own selfish interests.
Anyone, even with average intelligence, could have worked out that an oil embargo against Rhodesia would hold as much water, or oil, as a sieve. Our main port in Mozambique, Beira, had always been of even greater service to Zambia and Malawi, so there could be no blockade there. Lourenço Marques was the principal port for Johannesburg and the Witwatersrand, South Africa’s largest industrial area, so no one could interfere with that. Then there were all the South African ports, stretching from Durban on the east coast to Walvis Bay on the west coast. These were the major ports for all the countries in south and central Africa. But most important was the question of Zambia, because all their exports and imports passed through Rhodesia, with the exception of an insignificant minority. Could anyone honestly believe that Rhodesia, being denied fuel in violation of internationally accepted rights, would permit fuel to traverse its transport system to supply another country, especially a hostile country?
But this was no problem for Wilson. There would be an airlift. RAF transport planes did a daily run from Dar es Salaam to Lusaka, and managed to fly in 2,500 gallons of fuel, using, however, 4,000 gallons per day to perform the task. Into the bargain the runways were not constructed to cater for these heavy aircraft and so they started breaking up, and the roads out of Lusaka, taking a pounding from heavy transport, went the same way. Many Zambians started complaining: was it all necessary, and where were they being led?
We passed into 1966 with things going reasonably well. We had introduced fuel rationing, in keeping with plans which had been prepared, and there were few problems. People started forming lift clubs: instead of four individuals going to work each morning in four separate cars, they used one car. It was more economical, there were fewer traffic problems, no parking problems, and people began to get to know their neighbours. A spirit of community help started and this was to continue to develop right to the end. It proved a great help in the days when we faced security problems.
Our immediate concern was the drought, which was becoming extremely serious, especially in Matabeleland and our other ranching areas. This was a cruel blow in our first year of independence, on top of sanctions and all the other associated problems. It involved us in a massive exercise of transporting cattle to the high rainfall areas in the north and east of the country, allocating priority cold storage commission facilities to the drought areas, and the cartage of fodder to the affected areas. In spite of all this, many cattle died of malnutrition.
Wilson, whose original estimate was that we would collapse in a matter of weeks, had now stretched his guess to months, and he was receiving strong support from much of the left-wing media. However, a number of British Members of Parliament visited Rhodesia during the Christmas — New Year recess, and all they could find was peace and an air of law and order, and security. There was none of the signs of repression and the ‘police state’ which Wilson had been dramatising. Gradually some of the more balanced British newspapers began to question Wilson’s handling of the situation, and gave more space to supporters of the Rhodesian cause.
Edgar Whitehead, who had been one of my strongest critics and had opposed our UDI, had left Rhodesia to retire in England. He wrote an article for the Spectator, in which he ridiculed sanctions, saying they would be no more effective in producing a change of government in Rhodesia than they had been in Cuba. He criticised the Conservatives for joining Labour in a bipartisan policy, and accused both parties of misjudging the Rhodesian character. He rubbed it in by saying: ‘They have forgotten what they would have done to anybody in 1940 who suggested that they should give in to Hitler because if not they would be subject to sanctions and a shortage of petrol.’ That was a cruel blow — et tu Brute!
A few of the black leaders to our north then had a rush of blood to the head, and decided that the quickest and easiest way to solve the Rhodesian problem was to organise a meeting of Commonwealth prime ministers. They had no right to do such a thing, but they did it. There was a convention that these meetings never discussed the internal affairs of member countries, but that was of no importance to them. Britain had stated publicly, including at the UN, that the matter was between Britain and Rhodesia and that they would not tolerate any outside interference, but to them that was also irrelevant. Tafawa Balewa, Prime Minister of Nigeria, agreed to take the chair, and arranged to hold the meeting in Lagos in January. Menzies of Australia, and a number of other leaders, refused to attend, but Wilson, after hesitating for
a while, capitulated and agreed to participate. It was the first time in history that the British sovereign did not attend the opening ceremony. It was just one more of those sad cases where traditions and standards were debased. There was much irresponsible talk at the meeting, resulting in recommendations which even Wilson was forced to reject; it ended on 12 January 1966 with a communiqué in which the British Prime Minister assured them that ‘the Rhodesian rebellion would be brought to an end in a matter of weeks rather than months’. They all went home with happy hearts. Nigeria, the largest and most progressive of the newly independent countries of Africa, a wonderful example of how expertly they had adapted to democracy, was congratulated on taking the initiative and conducting this unique meeting in the crusade to bring freedom to Africa. Three days later, their Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa, a number of his ministers and their families, were brutally murdered in a most barbaric manner.
The day after the Commonwealth conference, our Chief Justice, Sir Hugh Beadle, came to tell me that he was going to London in an attempt to get Wilson to adopt a more realistic line and accept that the only way out of the predicament was to talk to me and my government, and that moreover, Gibbs supported him strongly in this approach. It was obvious to both Beadle and Gibbs that our support from the Rhodesian people was consolidating, and there were clear indications too that the economy was coping well, in contrast with the picture which Wilson was trying to give to the world. In fact, the record showed that our trade worldwide was increasing, and this applied equally to Africa, and in particular to Zambia. Worthy of note was an article by the editor of the Daily Times of Lagos, written after a visit to Rhodesia during that same month of January, in which he stated that the generally accepted picture of Rhodesia as a police state where the people were repressed and denied freedom was a ‘massive fraud’. He was struck by the courtesy which he received, and was impressed by the absence of discrimination and the general atmosphere of peace which prevailed. Not surprisingly, Mr Enahavo received his marching orders at the end of the month. For someone who lived in the climate of sub-Sahara, communist one-party-state dictatorship, he made the classical mistake of stepping out of line. Needless to say, it gave us much satisfaction to draw this kind of event — and there were many others — to the attention of the British government. I was informed, not surprisingly, that they simply looked the other way. What else could they do!
The oil embargo, one of Wilson’s main weapons, was not working. There was an immediate sympathetic response from our friends in South Africa, who were privately ferrying in drums of petrol. This received much publicity, with a resultant psychological boost and strengthening of ties between our two countries. But the cardinal point in our favour was that the South African government had made it clear that in principle they were opposed to sanctions, and it was their intention to maintain normal relations between our two countries, so bulk supplies were crossing our border at Beit Bridge by rail and road. Moreover, there was a large refinery at Lourenço Marques, so there was no problem in obtaining additional supplies from Mozambique.
An article in the London Sunday Times of 27 February had the headline SANCTIONS HAVE FAILED, and after quoting much evidence in support of the claim, made the point: ‘Either Mr Smith and his colleagues are convinced they are winning, or they are bluffing on a colossal scale. I think the latter supposition can be dismissed.’
Another positive factor was the decision by the Conservative Party to send Selwyn Lloyd, the former Lord Privy Seal, on a fact-finding mission to Rhodesia from 7–16 February. We welcomed this, for not only was he one of the senior and influential members of the Conservatives, but it appeared that this move might indicate an end to the Conservative Party’s policy of allowing themselves to be dragged along in the wake of the Labour Party’s campaign of vindictiveness and vengefulness on all Rhodesians, whatever their race, creed or political conviction. Not surprisingly, Wilson protested over the visit, but it was more than time for the Conservatives to re-establish their individuality and start facing up to principle as opposed to political expediency.
Lloyd spent a busy ten days interviewing a wide spectrum of people, and produced a positive report which underlined a few basic facts. In summary he believed that a solution to the Rhodesian problem was possible, and that talks between the two governments should take place. Wilson castigated the Conservative Party for giving comfort to Rhodesia, but within a matter of weeks followed their advice by sending a representative, Duncan Watson of the Commonwealth Office, to Salisbury on 21 March, to ‘test the water’.
Britain had two main prongs to its sanctions strategy: oil and tobacco. They chose correctly, because if the arteries of transport are not functioning efficiently, any country will grind to a standstill. Tobacco was our biggest earner of foreign exchange and sustained more people than any other sector of our economy. It was the oil blockade, however, which produced the drama. Rhodesia’s main supply of oil came by pipeline from the port of Beira to our refinery in Umtali. Wilson’s plan was to prevent oil tankers from entering Beira, and in April he succeeded at the United Nations with a resolution agreed by the UN Security Council authorising Britain to prevent oil reaching Rhodesia through Beira. The whole thing was highly irregular, with the UN making a decision in conflict with their own charter. The Conservatives attacked Wilson for his recklessness and dishonesty. He had stated on many occasions that this was a British problem, and asserted that no external interference would be brooked. Into the bargain, he had made an emphatic statement in the House of Commons that he had no intention of instituting a naval blockade of Beira. South Africa lodged an official complaint over the illegal and unprincipled action. Portugal, too, expressed its gravest objection against Britain and the UN for their action, which prejudiced the economy and infringed the rights of Mozambique. Clearly this action was a total breach of the UN principles, and was setting a precedent for many more occasions where the rules were bent to accommodate special favours.
With typical British ‘gunboat diplomacy’ an aircraft carrier, HMS Ark Royal, and the frigates, Rhys and Cambrian, were despatched to patrol off Beira. However, the first tanker carrying oil for Rhodesia, the Joanna, simply ignored the warships and sailed through to its destination. We had been receiving a blow-by-blow account, and the event was received with much rejoicing in Mozambique and Rhodesia, and even further afield.
Regrettably, the oil was never discharged. This blatant defiance of Britain and the UN stirred tremendous controversy, and such was the pressure brought to bear on Portugal that they decided to resort to diplomacy and produced a different plan to supply us with our requirements. It is said that discretion is the better part of valour, but Rhodesians were disappointed in what appeared to be a climb down, as opposed to their prevailing mood of standing up to British duplicity. The first Portuguese thinking was to produce six shallow-draft tankers which would ferry oil from Lourenço Marques to Beira, keeping in territorial waters and thus evading interference. It sounded reasonable and practical, and would have enabled us to keep our refinery going, but clearly would have been subject to international pressure. This led them to their second plan: they could supply us with our requirements from the Sonarep refinery in Lourenço Marques. This would be impossible to detect because it was the supply base for the whole of Mozambique and also provided some of Eastern Transvaal’s requirements. Britain went on trying to pressurise Portugal and South Africa, to no avail. The Portuguese reminded them that it would be a contravention of internationally accepted convention for them to restrict access of goods to a land-locked country, and reminded them that Beira was the main port serving Malawi. South Africa simply reiterated that in principle they were opposed to boycotts and sanctions, and for good measure pointed out that they had always provided the main ports of access to a number of land-locked countries, notably Lesotho, Botswana, Swaziland and Zambia, in addition to Rhodesia. Was Britain suggesting, the South Africans asked, that South Africa should interfere with these normal trading
patterns? Would such action not be reprehensible? So at last, even Harold Wilson seemed to accept that he was flogging a dead horse, and he moved on in search of new fields.
The tobacco floors had opened for their annual sales at the end of March, and we had made preparations, knowing that these had been targeted for special attention. Our tobacco sales had the reputation of being one of the most efficient business organisations in the world, and was on the list of attractions to visitors. The sing-song talk of the auctioneers, the speed at which bales were sold, the facility with which they were removed from the floor and the sweet aroma of freshly baled tobacco, were memories which stayed with you. But all this came to an end. As we knew that British spies were trying to identify the buyers, we were forced to make the sad decision to exclude visitors. Salisbury was bustling with tobacco buyers from all over the world, except Britain and the USA, and we set up a Tobacco Corporation that, among other things, would serve as a residual buyer if need be, for we were determined to keep our tobacco industry alive. The corporation was a magnificent success, and continued to operate for the duration of sanctions — for the next fifteen years — and our tobacco growers, who had the reputation of being among the best in the world, streamlined their production methods and increased their efficiency and effort to even greater heights. This was just one more of the many examples of how dedicated Rhodesians overcame almost insuperable odds. There were many other cases, not only in the primary industry fields of agriculture and mining, but also in secondary industry, where we were successful in entering new markets. An especially pleasing case drawn to my attention was the sale of a large consignment of transistor radios to the USA.
