by Ian Smith
On his return on 27 February, Ndabaningi Sithole reported to me on his successful visit to Britain, claiming that even Owen had conceded to him that if our plan produced a successful conclusion they would have to acknowledge it. My reports on his visit were complimentary, with TV appearances which connoted reason and moderation. His information was that opinion in both Britain and the United States was moving in our direction. Moreover, with the impending general election looming in Britain, an unsolved Rhodesian problem was something which Callaghan and the Labour Party would be well advised to avoid.
Finally, on 2 March 1978, after a great deal of manoeuvring, cajoling and threatening, the rest of the participants succeeded in getting Muzorewa into the starting stalls, and a public announcement was made that evening that a signing ceremony would be held the following morning.
At 10 a.m. on Friday 3 March, we gathered at Governor’s Lodge, Salisbury, amid much excitement and a great gathering of press and TV cameras. The prepared document was distributed for examination, and after approval the long table was made ready for the signing ceremony. Muzorewa stood up with the comment: ‘I am in the mood for signing!’
This was an obvious reversal of form, because if it had not been for his obstructionist tactics, which produced no alterations, we would have completed this exercise five weeks earlier. He then proceeded to extract from a carrier bag one of those colourful embroidered fancy-dress costumes which he had gathered in one of the countries to our north, and proceeded to don it as his signing garment. I detected a contemptuous smile from a few of the onlookers. We then went through to the big room for the signing ceremony and, as usual with these events, it was bursting at the seams with media personnel, glaring lights and cameras buzzing and clicking. We signed five copies, one for each of the four leaders and one for the record.
After it was over we returned to the conference table, and it came as a surprise to me when Muzorewa commenced proceedings by saying that he wished to compliment me on my performance during the difficult and often acrimonious proceedings which we had been through, and how I had succeeded in bringing everybody along until we finally reached this signing ceremony. I had a few words to say that had gone through my mind on a number of occasions when feelings were running high during various altercations. Often during the heat of political argument the participants resort to strong, sometimes violent language. It is important that we do not allow resentment and grudges to linger on after the occasion. As in a game of rugby, you tackle your best friends as hard as anyone else, but once the game is over you are friends again. My plea was that we should leave behind our past differences, and work together in order to translate into reality our mutual hopes for the future. If we failed, we would be confronted by the dreadful alternative offered by the terrorists. Muzorewa was departing for London that evening to explain to people what we were aiming to achieve, and we wished him well.
That afternoon I had a number of TV and press interviews, including one with Walter Cronkite, which was beamed to and from New York by satellite. Although commonplace nowadays, at that time this was something new and exciting.
One question I was asked repeatedly: ‘Was not this morning’s ceremony an emotional and traumatic experience for me?’
In all honesty my answer was: ‘No — we went through that in 1976 when we reluctantly accepted the Anglo–American agreement in Pretoria.’
Those who could read between the lines knew that was our Rubicon.
18
The Interim Government
of 1978–9
Once the four leaders had signed the 3 March 1978 agreement, it had to be sold to the world. Accordingly, as has been said, Muzorewa departed immediately for Britain. Sithole and Chirau flew out as part of our effort to explain what we were trying to achieve. I was the only one denied the opportunity to give a helping hand, as Britain had denounced me as a rebel and a traitor and accordingly to all its friends I was persona non grata. But our enemies, the communist terrorists, were given red-carpet treatment wherever they went!
It was just as well that I remained on the scene because, apart from a busy schedule catching up on the affairs hanging over because of the negotiations during the preceding months, a message came in through our security network indicating that there was a move by a group of some of the more aggressive members of the UANC, spurred on by a few terrorist sympathisers, to oust Muzorewa as leader during his absence overseas. I immediately sent out a message to those who, I was sure, would not be party to such treachery, warning that such action would not only destroy everything we had succeeded in achieving through our agreement, but would amount to conniving with the terrorists in their evil machinations. Fortunately, we managed to nip the affair in the bud.
As part of our new role, I had, on 20 March, a pleasing and informative meeting with Frans Joseph Strauss, the Prime Minister of Bavaria. Strauss was one of Germany’s great leaders, with a long and proud record of opposition to communism. He had been a loyal friend to Rhodesia, recognising the injustice of the case against us. His knowledge of international affairs was remarkable, and he had a great facility for making profound judgements and expressing himself clearly and concisely. Strauss maintained that, with a few exceptions, the world was going through a period of indifferent leadership. Russia and its satellites in the OAU were calling the tune, with USA and Britain in retreat. This was normal and expected from the socialists in Britain, but to witness the leader of the free world, the USA, floundering in such incompetence, was tragic, and would cost the free world dearly. Carter was incapable of handling the problems surrounding him, and his indecision and misjudgement succeeded only in compounding them by the day. By the law of averages, Mondale should have been an improvement, but he was not!
Gaylard briefed me that evening on the meeting in Pretoria with the British and American envoys, John Graham of the Foreign Office and Steven Low, the US Ambassador to Zambia, and our representatives. The British and Americans were evidently concerned that our agreement might succeed to the detriment of their friends, the terrorists, and therefore they were seeking their inclusion. Our representatives made it clear that we would not accept another débâcle such as happened at Geneva in 1976. As we had made public, however, we had pledged that the door was open to anyone who wished to return and participate in our election. As this election would probably not take place within the next twelve months, because of the preparations needed for registration of voters and delimitation of constituencies, there was ample time, and we would facilitate their return and participation. This was an absolutely genuine offer, for the participation of all Rhodesians was clearly desirable in order to reflect the true wishes of all the people.
The interim government showed pleasing progress. On 9 April I noted in my diary:
Our Executive Council [comprising Muzorewa, Sithole, Chirau and myself] meetings are going surprisingly well, and there is a great deal of understanding of one another’s problems, with a willingness to listen to advisers, and an acceptance that there is much to be learned about the business of Government. Sithole emerges as the astute politician who is always thinking ahead and planning his next move. Muzorewa has been reasonable and logical, and while over-cautious, nevertheless more sure of himself and positive than I had expected. Chirau, consistent as always, making his contributions carefully and methodically, and never deviating from his principles. We have introduced a unique system for Ministers, with two of them in each Ministry, one white minister from the previous Government and one of the new black ministers working together in harness in order to enable the new ministers to gain experience. A brilliant idea in theory, which we hope will work out in practice. Reports so far are favourable.
I kept on reminding my executive council colleagues that they should not allow themselves to be deviated from our main objective, which was an effective ceasefire. I warned that, the more they argued among themselves and aroused dissension and controversy through party politics, the more they would detract fr
om its success. The government had mounted its campaign through radio broadcasts and pamphlets, distributed by hand and dropped from the air over Mozambique and Zambia. It also used personal contacts with a number of terrorist groups. In addition, I urged, there was a considerable amount which the black political parties could contribute, by using their grassroots network to spread the message of our agreement and of the hopes and benefits which it offered our black people for the future.
It was encouraging to note early indications of support from the outside world, first from the Conservative Party in Britain, followed by resolutions of support in the US Senate and Congress. This was a clear recognition of the fact that we were carrying out what they had been asking of us for years. Moreover, there was an awakening by the free world, albeit belated, to the dangers of Russian encroachment down the African continent. With Russian hardware and Cuban troops running out of work in the Horn of Africa, Mozambique was an attractive proposition for the completion of their plan for a saddle across Africa to our north, and thence the pincer movement down the flanks of South Africa.
It was obviously in our interest to buy time — a Conservative government in Britain, and a change of leadership in the US, could only be to our advantage. Meanwhile, we were working positively to liaise with those members of the free world who were constructively trying to assist. Accordingly, we were not surprised to receive a message from the British Foreign Office suggesting a meeting. We welcomed the approach and replied that the door was open. But they were obviously trying to pull a fast one when they came back suggesting Nairobi or Livingstone as the venue. Eventually, they accepted an invitation to meet in Salisbury on 17 April.
It was a joint Anglo–American team which arrived. With Owen, the British Foreign Secretary, and Cyrus Vance, the US Secretary of State, was Andrew Young, the US Ambassador to the UN. We were pleased at the high level of the representation, which indicated that they were taking things seriously, and the inclusion of Young in the American team gave me personal satisfaction, because of his honesty and straight dealing. We received the message that they had landed at the airport, and they arrived on time for the meeting at 10 a.m.
Owen was the first to enter, and he swept in with a grand expression of self-importance on his face, something which his meagre and slouching physique was unable to match. He brushed past a few members of my delegation and effusively greeted each black member he could reach, including one of the messengers, who was somewhat embarrassed. Finally, at the far end where I was talking to one of Sithole’s members, he shook my hand. Vance followed quietly and with dignity greeted each person. Andrew Young did likewise, and I offered them tea. Vance said it was his first visit to Rhodesia, indeed southern Africa. He could not help, he continued, but be impressed with the beauty of the country, the fine-looking houses and the manner in which Salisbury had been planned and laid out. He noted the obvious general efficiency. All of this reminded him of the US and was in contrast to the other places he had visited in Africa. I told him that he had put his finger on what we were trying to preserve in Rhodesia, and was pleased to hear him reply that it was his hope that he could make a contribution in this direction.
I welcomed our visitors, and gave them a rundown of the situation in which we found ourselves: since 1960, I pointed out, Rhodesia had been trying in vain to settle its problem with the British government but we had failed because of Britain’s unwillingness to abide by agreements and understandings. The 1976 Geneva conference was a classic example of how they had succeeded in driving blacks and whites further apart. Eventually all Rhodesians, whatever their colour or party, had come to the conclusion that they should together solve the problem, to the exclusion of outsiders. The exercise had gone quicker than anticipated, I assured them; we were well on course, and any thought of deviating us from our goal was a non-starter. I hoped the contributions made by our guests would be constructive and contribute to our objective of bringing peace to our country.
Both Owen and Vance indicated that it was their intention to do precisely that. Their contribution went along the lines we had expected. We were all of the same opinion, they said, and they wished to emphasise that it was their hope that they could contribute towards a settlement that would bring peace to Rhodesia. It was their belief that a conference of all parties was the answer. ‘Similar to the recent Geneva conference?’ I asked. There was an uneasy silence. Could they inform us on what progress they had made in Dar es Salaam, whence they had come? In all honesty they had to admit that there were problems, as the Patriotic Front wanted to dominate any settlement, and this they conceded was unacceptable. But they had been successful in convincing the Patriotic Front of the desirability of a conference which would embrace all parties, they concluded.
Our answer was simple and logical. We pointed out that the history of the past two decades was littered with failed conferences. We had now succeeded in bringing about an agreement, and had made it clear that the doors were open to the Patriotic Front. They could come in as equal partners, but not preferential partners. We asked: what more did they want? My three black colleagues came in strongly, making a number of pertinent points. I noticed that Vance and Young were impressed by their case, but it was clear that Owen was having difficulty in breaking away from the indoctrination he had been given by the terrorists in Dar.
Our case was strong. Many of those who were now working with us, like Sithole and Chikerema, had been on the side of the terrorists, but had concluded that it was a destructive path to follow, and had now adopted the constructive approach of working constitutionally. We had invited the Patriotic Front to come in and work with us. Sithole asked the question: ‘What are the leaders of the Patriotic Front fighting for?’ Without hesitation Andrew Young replied: ‘For personal power.’ The obvious embarrassment of Owen and those around him would have done credit to a theatre drama. On a subsequent occasion, when Young was making a forthright contribution, Vance quietly put his hand on Young’s arm and said: ‘Let me deal with this one.’ Finally, we extracted an undertaking from them that they had a better understanding of our position, and they would support us if we could show that we had the support of the Rhodesian people, even if this was contrary to the views of the Patriotic Front and others.
At the end of our meeting we suggested that our guests should precede us in talking to the media, of which there was an over-sized gathering, and that we would follow. Vance, Owen and Young were striding off in that direction when suddenly they stopped. Owen talked to Vance, Vance talked to Young, and the latter turned and came back into the room. Far from looking upset, he had a twinkle in his eye. I moved towards him and said: ‘You’ve got a problem — you’re far too honest to make a success of this game of politics.’ He replied with a smile: ‘I’m not worried.’
Before the visiting delegation departed, Vance asked if he could have a few minutes of my time. He stressed how pleased he was that he could make the trip and of how it had opened his eyes. Apart from being impressed by the high standards and sophistication of everything, he was struck by the peace and quiet and happiness of the people. Contrary to what he had been led to believe, the obvious sincerity and genuineness of myself and my black colleagues in our dedication to making a success of our agreement impressed him. As a result he would have a greater and more sympathetic understanding of our problem and we could rest assured that this would be reflected in future decisions which emanated from the USA. Our security people also reported that their American counterparts were impressed with the arrangements, which were superior to anything they had found elsewhere in Africa.
As so often happens when things seem to be going along smoothly, something crops up which throws a spanner in the works. One of the UANC team, Byron Hove, the Co-Minister of Justice, who had not been party to our negotiations and had returned home from exile in Britain after matters had been concluded, started playing party politics. He was making statements designed to play to the extremists’ gallery with the object of winnin
g votes at the impending election. This was a breach of the understanding which we had made and it had incensed the other black parties — indeed Muzorewa himself condemned it in strong language. We set up a ministerial committee to look into the matter, and Hilary Squires, Hove’s fellow Co-Minister of Justice, reported that Hove had blatantly lied to them. It was decided that he should apologise publicly or be asked to resign. It ended with the latter, and unfortunately was the cause of some dissension and recrimination. My main concern was that it would detract from our ‘safe return’ policy, as terrorist sympathisers would use it as an argument to dissuade those who were contemplating a return.
All was not just politics. On 13 May 1978, I had, as I wrote in my diary:
