by Ian Smith
A week previously, on 18 August, I had broadcast to the nation in an effort to try and keep our people in the picture during these incredibly difficult times. There had been speculation in the media and overseas reports on the desirability of holding another conference of all the parties. I analysed the situation and explained that if this was to be a repetition of the Victoria Falls Bridge conference or the Geneva conference, then, as happened in those instances, we would be worse off than before we started. So while we maintained contact with all parties in the field, we would like to know that we were on sure ground before deviating from our current course. While we had run into difficulties in drawing up the new constitution, we were making progress and at the same time grappling with problems such as the ‘ceasefire and safe-return’ campaign, where it was conceded that there was room for improvement.
During my thirty years in politics I had many frustrations, dealing with the British politicians who had gone back on undertakings, the failure of the Pearce Commission to follow through signed contracts, and then black political leaders who reneged on agreements. Some of my greatest frustrations, however, were associated with the past five months, since we had signed our 3 March agreement. We had been trying to work out a system with four leaders pulling together in harness. Under those circumstances your progress is restricted to the rate of the slowest member of the team. I am one of those who has always been able to make a decision after weighing up the evidence before me. I often said to my cabinet colleagues that I would rather they made ten decisions, one of which was a mistake, than that they made no mistakes because they made no decisions. Once you have decided that a decision is right, in the interests of your country, then the function of a leader is to lead and sell it to the people. So often the best medicine is unpalatable, and if you insist on soliciting support from the people, more often than not you will never succeed in administering the cure.
In my broadcast, I dealt next with the need for a referendum.
At our last General Election we gave an undertaking that before introducing a new Constitution, we would submit it to the electorate for acceptance or rejection. At this stage we are, together with the internal black leaders, drawing up the Constitution. Once this is finally agreed and completed, the electorate will have the final say.
Finally, my greatest wish was to persuade Rhodesians to go on living in our wonderful country:
I hope that in the end we do not have to leave, that we will have succeeded in the major objective before us, bringing about a new Constitution and a new way of life under this new arrangement which will mean that it will be worthwhile for us to go on living here, under conditions of the maintenance of law and order, and decent standards of civilisation.
We were still waiting on Kaunda. On 25 August a message came from Lusaka to say that Mugabe was obstinate, and that this was the reason we had received no reply to our question. It was just as well we had not made the trip to Lusaka, as it would have been negative. For my part, I had a happy afternoon on Saturday 28 August, watching Rhodesia play rugby against the USA Cougars. At the reception following the game they gave me a warm welcome and presented one of their neckties to me, assuring me that all intelligent Americans were backing us in what we were trying to do.
The month closed with the sad news that John Wrathall had died from a heart attack. He had succeeded Clifford Dupont as our President, after serving with distinction as our Minister of Finance. Although he had been looking fit and was dedicated to his mission, he passed away quietly in his sleep — a nice way to go, but a shock for Doreen and the family. They performed their task efficiently and with dignity and were much admired by all those who knew them.
On 2 September our black leaders, on their return journey from Kenyatta’s funeral in Nairobi, stopped off for meetings in Lusaka. We had received reports that the sparks were flying, with Mugabe the obstructionist, creating friction not only with our transitional government people, but also with Nkomo.
With a traumatic week just over, with a number of innocent civilians being murdered by terrorists, all of them black people — their only crime that they were not prepared to co-operate in terrorism — came the news of the tragic disaster of the shooting down of one of our civilian Viscount aircraft on its flight from Victoria Falls via Kariba to Salisbury on late Sunday afternoon, 3 September. The terrorists had managed to procure a number of heat-seeking missiles from those sources all over the world that are looking for financial gain, even at the cost of human life and tragedy. The bringing down of the aircraft and, still worse, the cold-blooded murder by the terrorists of ten of the survivors, including women and children, caused a degree of anger among Rhodesians difficult to control. During the days that followed, resentment and the accompanying desire to exact retribution mounted and I received more than one representation seeking permission to enter the area of the tragedy and make the local people pay for their crime of harbouring and assisting the terrorists. I, too, would have derived great satisfaction in getting to grips with the gangsters associated with the crime, but sadly, this is easier said than done. We would continue to hunt down and destroy terrorism wherever it was found, but we knew on the evidence before us that many, if not the majority, of the tribal people were not voluntarily on the side of the terrorists, but had had pistols pointed at their heads. So it was necessary, although difficult, to counsel cool heads and remind people that two wrongs do not make a right: the sins of the gangsters should not be visited upon their fellow-tribesmen.
There was a strong feeling for me to broadcast to the nation, and on Sunday 10 September I announced that the government would introduce ‘a modification of martial law which will enable us to streamline procedures in order to facilitate the prosecution of our war effort while at the same time leaving intact those civil authorities which are required to play their part’. The new measures, I said, were to be applied in particular areas as and when required, and not on a nationwide basis. In addition, I declared, we intended to ‘liquidate the internal workings of those organisations associated with terrorism.’ I also warned neighbouring states that if they permitted the terrorists to operate from within their borders, they must bear the consequences of any defensive strikes we might undertake against terrorist bases in their countries. I attributed the escalation in the war to continued support for the Patriotic Front by Britain and the United States. Finally I named President Nyerere as the ‘evil genius on the Rhodesian scene and a stumbling block to a peaceful settlement’.
I decided to send a message to Vorster, telling him of the serious situation building up, the anger of the Rhodesian nation and the accompanying danger of a white backlash. I told him how Nkomo had stated publicly that when he came to power he would allow South African terrorists shelter and access through Rhodesia. Accordingly, I wondered if the time had not arrived for South Africa to reconsider its decision to withdraw from Rhodesia, and restore at least some of the assistance previously given us. I believed it was important that, once more, I should point to the dilemma in which Rhodesia found itself, indicating the facts with which any unbiased person could only agree. It was fair comment for me to point out that from the time we had accepted the Pretoria agreement with Vorster and Kissinger in 1976, the situation in Rhodesia had steadily deteriorated. Surely, I argued, it was not unreasonable for us to request the fulfilment of the undertaking given at that time, that if we accepted the agreement and the other parties failed to honour their side, then our friends of the free world would acknowledge what we had done and give us their support? We had learned from past experience that we should not place much, if any, faith on undertakings given by our ‘friends’ in the Western world, but we still had faith that South Africa would be different. Not only did we believe that they had not been contaminated by the deceit of the permissive society and the ‘diplomacy’ of Western governments, but even more pertinent was the fact that we were in the same boat together. Any success which Rhodesia had in stemming the encroachment in communis
m down the African continent could only be to the ultimate benefit of South Africa.
Hawkins relayed to us the reply he had received from Pik Botha, which berated us for dillydallying over the holding of an all-party conference and the achievement of a settlement which would be acceptable worldwide. He warned us that South Africa had its hands full with the South West Africa problem and that they could not contemplate two wars on two fronts at the same time. And finally he was to remind me that their financial loans to us were on a monthly basis, dependent on our performance! This was obvious blackmail, without any attempt at subtlety. Just one more of those dreadful periods for us, when the South Africans were conniving with the British and Americans, and with Kaunda and Nyerere and the terrorists, to pressurise us to accept an agreement at any price, even if it meant a sell-out to communism. Human nature does tend to promote eternal optimism, but from past experience we should not have been surprised. At least this was more honest than that fateful meeting at Groote Schuur on 15 February 1975, when Vorster had stacked the pack against me, with the message that the South African government had concluded that they could no longer ask their men to fight in Rhodesia because they had received the clear message that their troops were questioning the morality of being asked to fight for a cause which was not in keeping with their philosophy of apartheid. It was subsequently proved that this was a blatant lie. At least they were not now trying to blame other South Africans for their decisions.
We sent a message to Hawkins, asking him to stress, tactfully, that our growing problems were a direct result of the Pretoria agreement, that our loss of fighting manpower clearly originated from that date, that we were not asking the South Africans to fight on two fronts, but asking for the tools to enable us to do the fighting. We argued that, if the communists took over and facilitated South African terrorism through Rhodesia, the South Africans would then indeed have a second front to contend with. The communist dream of clearing the way for their ultimate objective in Africa, the final assault on the Republic of South Africa, would have been achieved. Why would the South Africans not allow us the time to finalise our plan, with which they had recently concurred, to bring into being a government which believed in free enterprise and the democratic system, as opposed to communism and terrorism? Had they not recently received a visit from our joint Ministers of Finance, Ernest Bulle and David Smith, and given them encouragement and support? Just where did we stand, and how was it possible for us to plan and operate under such conditions? To say that we were confused and exasperated would have been the understatement of the decade!
After a few days Hawkins came back, saying that he had received an understanding and sympathetic hearing from Brand Fourie, who confessed that at times he was perplexed at what the politicians around him were doing. He conceded the inconsistency towards Rhodesia and with surprising frankness admitted that this changed in keeping with the last contact made by his ministers. If we were to send a delegation down including a black executive council member or minister, then our position would be reinstated. One problem was that Vorster was getting tired and therefore more decision-making was being left to Pik, and because of his emotional nature this led to greater inconsistency. Hawkins commented: ‘They are clearly trying to curry favour with those whom they think will be our next government.’ In the end Brand Fourie said that his ministers were well aware of the points made in our message, and at this stage it would serve no purpose to reiterate them. His advice was that we should wait for a change of climate. In current circumstances we would only succeed in receiving another rebuff. In the event, Vorster announced on 20 September that he was forced to retire because of poor health. He offered himself as President and was replaced as Prime Minister by P.W. Botha, his Minister of Defence.
In the immediate aftermath of the resignation, Janet and I flew to Durban as guests of the South African Chamber of Industries for their annual conference. It was a splendid affair, very well organised by highly efficient people. Mr John Cronjé, their president, was a most impressive man with great dignity and presence. I attended a number of their formal sessions, contributed to certain debates and answered their questions. The official banquet was a tremendous occasion, with the main hall filled to capacity and the overflow in two adjoining rooms with closed circuit TV. John Cronjé’s speech was strong and unequivocal, in spite of his quiet and dignified manner, calling for bolder action from their government in the removal of prejudice and unequal treatment. I always find it reassuring to be associated with people who have the courage of their convictions. It has the tonic effect of restoring one’s confidence in one’s fellow-men. He was hitting at the foundations of the National Party’s principles and beliefs, a party which had enjoyed total power for so long that this kind of talk was branded as provocative and ‘unpatriotic’. So many times had I heard members and supporters of their government saying in reply to such open criticism: ‘Whose side is he on — ours or theirs?’ With the obvious insinuation — right or wrong? Harold Hawkins and his wife were down from Pretoria for the occasion, and the reactions conveyed to him by the delegates were pretty direct and especially interesting to us in the circumstances in which we found ourselves. He found them strongly critical of their government’s ‘indecisiveness and lack of courage in making positive decisions’. ‘They are drifting along, waiting for their party supporters to take the initiative — the very antithesis of leadership.’ Harold was pleased to be able to report most complimentary comments on my contributions. They wished they had a few politicians who would give such straight and honest replies. Harold’s wish was that Vorster and Pik Botha had been in attendance — they would have received a clear message. My reply was that they were immune to any thinking which did not coincide with their current philosophy — albeit this was one which seemed to change with the wind.
I used my speech at the banquet to give the facts about Rhodesia’s history and policy, to counteract the malicious distortions of the truth which were constantly propagated against us, and to indicate what we considered to be the answer to black and white people living and working together in Africa. I tactfully refrained from implicating my host country in any way, but because of the fact that we lived in the same part of the world, shared similar problems, and had always enjoyed close relations, my comments gave a number of clear pointers. Some of these coincided with policies Vorster had personally told me three years ago were imperative if South Africa was to survive, but this message had not yet reached his own South Africans.
On 28 September, I flew out of Durban at the crack of dawn, held a press conference at the airport in Johannesburg on the way through and arrived in Salisbury in good time for the opening session of our annual RF congress at 4.30 p.m. This was our last congress in the country under the name of Rhodesia. The place was packed to overflowing with representatives from every corner of the country. Considering the incredibly difficult times we were going through, the almost impossible odds that were stacked against us, there was no sign of abandoning ship. In the face of all of this, it was a great compliment to the mainstream of Rhodesia’s political thinking that these people were gathered together, devoid of bitterness and recrimination, and dedicated to finding a solution to our political problem. Their contributions throughout the entire congress were constructive and most responsible.
It was time for an initiative. For some months I had been working on an idea of using Muzorewa and Sithole through their university and church connections in the USA to organise a visit by the executive council to explain to responsible American opinion the justification of our case. Our luck was in, and it worked, much to the chagrin of the British government — but they did not have a leg to stand on, because when it suited them they implicated the Americans à la Kissinger, and now they were objecting because we had taken the initiative.
On Saturday 7 October we landed at New York on South African Airways and, as we were making our approach, the captain came over loud and clear: ‘On behalf of myself and my cre
w we wish our Rhodesian friends everything of the best on their mission to the US.’ There was a tremendous round of applause throughout the whole aircraft — a very moving experience. Soon after landing we took off for Dulles Airport, Washington, and from there we motored to the American Security Council Centre at Boston, Virginia, where we were given a good platform to launch our visit. It was made clear to us that our hosts comprised a voluntary organisation of conservative thinkers, established with the objective of countering left-wing permissive organisations that constantly advocated appeasement and surrender.
Our two-week visit was well planned and the organisation left nothing to be desired. Coverage by the media seemed to be good, with some TV interviews as early as 6.30 in the morning. We had breakfast with senators on Capitol Hill, with Senator Hayakawa in the chair. There was a press conference in Dirkson Building and an afternoon meeting with Secretary of State Cyrus Vance at the State Department. Included in his team were Richard Moose, Anthony Lake and Andrew Young.
I was hopeful of some understanding and reason from Vance and his team, bearing in mind their constructive attitude when we had last met in Salisbury, and especially in view of the fact that they would not be encumbered by the British Foreign Secretary, David Owen, whose opinions were coloured by his obsession with the OAU. We were sadly disillusioned, however, because apart from a most courteous reception and attentive hearing, our ideas and recommendations were constantly blocked. At the outset, Vance explained to us his predicament at being attacked by the black caucus and pro-Africa lobby for granting us visas to visit the US. He subsequently regretted letting the truth slip out like that.
