by Ian Smith
On Saturday 18 September, the day before we were due to meet Kissinger, we flew down to Pretoria after an early breakfast. Not only did we want time to think about and plan the meeting, but there was also an opportunity that afternoon for some decent clean enjoyment, in the midst of all the sordid politics and dreadful despondency surrounding Rhodesia: a rugby test match at Ellis Park between the Springboks and the All Blacks, two of the greatest rugby teams in the world. For good measure, there was also a Rhodesian, Ian Robertson, in the Springbok team. In the past Vorster and I had always sat together watching the game, but not today — I was shunted off to one side. Not that it mattered, because my seat was as good as any, and I had greater access to my New Zealand friends who were present, and many other well-wishers who went out of their way to express concern for Rhodesia, and their incomprehension at the behaviour of their government. The President of the Rugby Union apologised, saying that he had been asked to put me aside from the main party. Fortunately, that kind of thing has no effect on me, but those who were accompanying me were taken aback at the pettiness and discourtesy. The Mayor of Johannesburg also sympathised.
On the Sunday morning, after the introductions, Kissinger suggested that he and I go into a small adjoining room. He told me that, as he saw it, he was being asked to participate in the demise of Rhodesia. If this were so, he said, then it was one of the great tragedies of his life, an experience he would have hoped to be spared, but fate had decreed otherwise. Anything he could do to lessen the impact, would be his wish. Kissinger admitted that the package he had to offer was unattractive, but it was the best he could extract from the other parties, the British government and the front-line states, who had to be taken along. Callaghan had assured him that I was the main impediment to a settlement, and therefore would have to be made to stand down. However, Kissinger rejected this idea, saying that it was not for him or any outsider to make that decision, it was for the Rhodesians to choose their leader. And in any case, according to his information, I was the only person who would be able to sell an unpalatable deal to the Rhodesian electorate.
I assured him that the record proved conclusively that I had always been constructive in seeking a settlement to our problem, but had always made a stand, with the strong support of Rhodesians in general, against any surrender to communism. From our experience we had found the socialists in Britain to be small-minded men, often upstarts with large chips on their shoulders and, into the bargain, as far as Rhodesia was concerned, they were still seeking revenge for our UDI. This was no surprise to Kissinger, who had already experienced their deviousness, and now had evidence that they were conniving with the black presidents behind his back. Sad to say, he believed he had had more honest dealings with the black presidents. This did not surprise me, because we knew only too well how many British politicians were happy to bend their principles in order to curry favour with the OAU.
Referring to the terms he had to offer, Kissinger said that, regrettably, it had to be accepted that the Western world was soft and decadent, and it was difficult for him to claim that the USA was any different. Their Congress had refused to support him and President Ford whenever they tried to take a strong line, e.g. in Angola, when even the loud-talking conservatives had collapsed and voted with the ‘Nos’. He did not see the free world lifting a finger to help us, and, with the passage of time, he only saw our position deteriorating. On the evidence now available it looked as if Gerald Ford would lose the presidential election at the end of the year, and with Carter in office then the Lord help us … Accordingly, in his assessment, he believed we should accept this offer, unattractive as it was, because any future offer could only be worse. Once again, he stressed that his heart was heavy for us and our wonderful country, about which he had heard so much. If we rejected this offer, there would be understanding and sympathy, never recrimination from him. Rhodesia was one of the great tragedies of the modern world, and the fact that he was a participant made him sad. The decision was for us to make.
I assured him that I was a realist and that Rhodesians were inured to the cynicism of the West, so he would find us co-operative in seeking a solution. However, we were of Africa and, therefore, Africans. It had to be pointed out that Africa was different from the rest of the world, and consequently it was a fallacy to reason with logic in these parts. He conceded that he had much to learn about Africa, which clearly was a deep and involved subject, and he had come to the conclusion since taking part in this exercise that the people he was dealing with, likewise, were ignorant about the subject. Finally, he wished to pass on to me respects from his wife, who was away in Cape Town for the day. Like me, she was conservative by nature, had Scottish blood through ancestry, and believed that we had much in common.
We agreed to return and join the rest of the party. He gave them an abbreviated version of what he had told me, and then outlined the plan which was on offer. As he had indicated, it was not attractive. We made it clear that we believed it would be preferable if we called a conference in Rhodesia of blacks and whites and hammered out our own constitution — in other words resurrected the Falls Bridge plan. We said we were currently receiving the clearest indications we had ever had that our black politicians were sick and tired of the procrastination and would welcome a settlement. This likewise applied to the rank and file of the terrorists, but not to the leaders who were living comfortably in Lusaka, Dar and Maputo. But, we argued, for this to succeed, it would need the backing of the free world — that was our main stumbling block. Every time we were progressing towards an agreement, the message would come through to them saying: ‘Hold your hand, the British and South Africans are making a plan which will offer you a better deal.’
Kissinger was sympathetic, but the problem as he saw it was that it had been made unequivocally clear that this was a package deal tied up by the British, Americans and South Africans on the one side and the black presidents (Kaunda and Nyerere) on the other, and that there could be no going back over all that ground again. Our option was to accept or reject. If we rejected, the next offer would only be worse. My suggestion of a conference of Rhodesians with the backing of the free world was a non-starter. The free world did not have the stomach to stand up to the black presidents. So we would be left on our own. If that were our decision, he would understand and sympathise and would never be party to any action which would be to the detriment of Rhodesia. He spoke with obvious sincerity, and there was great emotion in his voice. For a while words escaped him. Then he said he would commit himself full-time to this task until it was completed. If we agreed that day, he would fly off immediately to reconfirm the plan with Kaunda and Nyerere. If we rejected it, he would be off to the other side of the world for his business there, and Rhodesia would be behind him.
I understood clearly the significance of his message: we would be on our own. That had been made clear to me at Ellis Park the previous afternoon. The case had been explained with superb clarity; the man had an obvious capacity for grasping a situation, analysing it, and putting forward the pros and cons. Moreover, all of us had the refreshing feeling that it had been done with honesty and sincerity.
We had been talking for more than four hours, and decided to adjourn for lunch and then reconvene at ‘Libertas’ and meet up with Vorster. As we rose to leave the room, Kissinger expressed his appreciation for the manner in which we Rhodesians had conducted ourselves and again expressed his anguish for the tragedy which was unfolding — he only wished he could do more to help.
As we left the American Embassy a crowd of people cheered us. We talked much over lunch, and the consensus was that the offer seemed to be the least of the various evils facing us. Kissinger was right: the free world was weak and decadent, and on the retreat; the thought of Jimmy Carter was frightening; we knew we could not trust the British government; most important of all, where did we stand with the South African government? We could get along without the rest, but without South Africa’s assistance there would be serious
problems, and it had been made clear that there were a number of areas in which South Africa could turn the screws on us.
According to plan we arrived at ‘Libertas’ at 5 p.m. and joined Kissinger and Vorster. I explained our reservations about the plan, and indicated the changes we thought necessary to make it workable and acceptable to Rhodesia. If Rhodesians believed it was a sell-out, there would be a mass exodus of skills, expertise, professionalism and investment, with resultant disaster. It was important to realise that the changes envisaged would necessitate constitutional amendments requiring a two-thirds majority in our Parliament. This fact surprised Kissinger, as it had Vorster previously. Vorster said they were satisfied that, if I supported it, there would be no problem. He was happy to use me when it suited him but, when it did not, I could be discarded.
We returned to the Falls Bridge plan. ‘Why could not Rhodesians be given a chance to work that one out?’ we asked. If the free world gave it their support, we would succeed. Whenever the other party backed down and broke the agreement, we explained, this was condoned, and then Rhodesia was asked to make more concessions. Why could not America and South Africa support us in implementing the plan, which was the brainchild of Vorster and Kaunda and Nyerere, with the concurrence of the black nationalist leaders? It was accepted by the Rhodesian government, and then rejected by the black nationalist leaders. Kissinger conceded that our case appeared to be strong, but he was unaware of the Falls Bridge plan. To me this was incomprehensible. We put him in the picture and he was deep in thought, when Vorster came in and said that we were dealing with past history which was not relevant to the world of today. I made the point that it was relevant to the future of Rhodesia, and that only a few months before Nkomo had been happy to discuss it with me, until he got the message from Lusaka to hold back because South Africa and America were producing a new plan. I turned to Kissinger and pointed out that at that time he was visiting Lusaka, and he agreed. I asked if Vorster had not put him in the picture on the Falls Bridge agreement, and there was silence!
Then Kissinger made the point that his current mission was to ascertain if his new proposal would be acceptable to Rhodesia. These matters which I had brought up, he declared, were none of his concern, and therefore regrettably he did not believe he could make a contribution. He saw no hope of extracting more concessions from the British and the black presidents. On the contrary, according to his latest information, the British government were suggesting that they might have gone too far — this was the kind of deviousness with which he was associated. For that reason, he argued, an early decision from us was important, in order to close the door on the offer and thus ensure that there could be no backtracking.
This gave Vorster the opportunity to come in and make the point that if we accepted and then the black leaders rejected, we would be in the right and would receive not only sympathy but practical assistance from the free world. I asked if that would include South Africa. He replied: ‘Certainly, I can vouch for that.’ I then asked if they believed it would mean a removal of sanctions and recognition from the free world, and he said: ‘In my opinion there would be a strong obligation — it would be quite immoral if they did not.’ He looked towards Kissinger, who seemed to concur. Kissinger repeated his concern about the need for urgency and enquired how soon I could give a reply. I responded that my cabinet was meeting a couple of days later, Tuesday, and caucus would finalise the matter on Thursday. It was decided that we would break for a few minutes so that all parties could consult.
I enquired as to who was the person with the Colgate smile who never stopped talking. ‘Pik Botha, the South African representative in America,’ replied Harold Hawkins. ‘This whole plan is his brainchild.’ Botha was constantly leaning over the shoulders of Vorster and Hilgard Muller, and seemed to be influencing much of what was going on. Among ourselves we had the feeling that Kissinger was absolutely straightforward and genuine, and taking into account the current negative attitude of the South Africans, it seemed that, contrary to our better judgement, we had few options.
After a while Vorster asked us Rhodesians to join him and Hilgard Muller in one of the side rooms. Vorster said that it was necessary to inform us that his government had come to the conclusion that they were no longer able to go on supporting us financially or militarily. Not only was it imposing an intolerable strain on South Africa’s resources, but it was attracting growing criticism from their friends in the outside world, who were accusing them of assisting Rhodesia in its efforts to obstruct an agreement with the black nationalists. This was the first time such an argument had been submitted to us, and Kissinger had made no mention of it — it obviously lacked sincerity. Vorster went on to say that he felt strongly over the need for urgency and therefore we should make our decision, which would enable me to make public my acceptance that night. For a few moments there was a stunned silence on our side, and then I expressed surprise at his suggestion in view of what I had explained earlier to Kissinger — the need to take my cabinet and caucus with me, and the requirement of a two-thirds majority in Parliament, without which the whole exercise would be abortive. I reminded him of the dramatic and far-reaching decision we were being asked to accept, and asked, if he was facing such a decision for his own country, would he take it upon himself to give an answer without consulting his cabinet and caucus, indeed the congress of his party?
Then Des Lardner-Burke (my Minister of Justice, Law and Order) really gave Vorster an earful, expressing absolute incredulity at the suggestion, which he referred to as quite irresponsible, in view of the fact that Vorster was aware of the system as it operated in Rhodesia. Lardner-Burke had dealt with Vorster in the days when he was South Africa’s Minister of Justice. I was reminded of the days when Des was a fiery loose-forward playing rugby for Rhodesia! Then Jack Mussett waded in and asked if they were trying to get rid of me as the Prime Minister of Rhodesia. If I did not have the courtesy to follow the correct procedure, especially when dealing with a matter of such gravity and magnitude affecting our country in a most dramatic way, our Parliament could very well reject the offer, and rightly so — was that what the South Africans wanted? For a man normally reserved and very deliberate, Mussett’s attack was surprisingly vigorous. Vorster, obviously shaken, got up and walked out, while Hilgard Muller lay back, slumped in his chair. The Rhodesians clearly felt they had been provoked, and the rumblings went on.
Within a short while, Vorster returned and asked us to come through to the main lounge and join the others. Kissinger asked me to sit alongside him, and in his quiet manner said that, while he fully understood the problems which confronted me, we had no option other than to go through with the process. He hoped that I would try to expedite it, because, as he had previously said, there were people — including the British, who were playing the leading part — trying to undermine the plan which had been mutually agreed. This was unbelievable, he said, considering it was a British plan. He was simply being used as the middle-man. I assured him that there was no need to remind me of the urgency. I had come to the conclusion, reluctantly, that Rhodesia had no option and, as we flew home that night, I knew each one of us would be wrestling with his conscience, trying to see if we could find a way out from the dreadful dilemma which confronted us.
We decided to recapitulate in order to ensure that there was no misunderstanding, and I asked Jack Gaylard to make a clear record. At this point Kissinger rose and went towards the front door, returning immediately and saying in a loud voice: ‘Come and let me introduce you to your hero, Ian Smith.’ He had with him his wife Nancy, who had just returned from Cape Town. A tall, pleasant, clean-cut-looking woman, she was obviously interested in meeting the ‘rebel’ from Rhodesia. Unfortunately our meeting was all too short, as duty called. Des Lardner-Burke and Mussett told me they wished they had had a camera to record the faces of Vorster and Hilgard Muller, who were clearly unable to comprehend what was going on: how could anybody think like this about their bête noire! And the
re was even worse to come.
Vorster deliberately made the point that, while we were explaining the proposal to Rhodesia, we should emphasise that no pressure had been applied to us by South Africa. There was a stunned silence. I had to think for a few moments, because it was difficult to credit what had taken place. There was a look of absolute incredulity on the faces of my colleagues. I replied that I could not accept the request because it was the complete antithesis of the truth. However, in a spirit of co-operation I would give an undertaking that with the exception of my cabinet and caucus, I would refrain from mentioning that we had been subjected to pressure. I had to impress on him that my cabinet and caucus simply would not believe me were I to tell them that I believed the decision was in the best interests of Rhodesia, and I was not prepared to deceive them by twisting the truth. I asked if he would care to have an opinion from my colleagues, and he quickly said: ‘No.’ This was fortunate, because I could see that both Des Lardner-Burke and Mussett were having difficulty restraining themselves, and if they had spoken their minds it would have been akin to throwing a petrol bomb into the arena.
It did not take long to summarise the position and Kissinger once again expressed his appreciation for the courteous manner and directness with which the Rhodesian team had conducted themselves, under what he knew must have been desperately difficult circumstances. He assured us that he would continue right to the end to obtain the best possible terms for Rhodesia — to do anything less would be in conflict with his convictions and his conscience. It was important for me to stress that one of the dangers I saw ahead was that the black leaders to our north would be pressurised into backing down on the agreement they had given, and that we would then be caught in the middle — I spoke from bitter experience. Vorster was quick to point out that this would not happen because it was Kaunda more than anyone else who was desperate for a settlement of our problem, as it would relieve many of the pressures on him. I countered, saying that, as we all knew, Nyerere was the dominant personality, that he would make the final decision and that a settlement of our problem would not bring him any benefits. In fact, I pointed out, his country would lose some of the trade benefits which they were enjoying as a result of Zambia’s trading problems to their south. Then I had to remind Vorster that he was repeating to me exactly the same story that he had given me during the run-up to the Falls Bridge conference when I had expressed my doubts that our black nationalist leaders would go along with the plan. It had been Nyerere on that occasion who had condoned their backtracking. There was no reply from Vorster.
