by Ian Smith
As with the British, we were held at arm’s length in order to curry favour with the OAU, and now with the Americans, our plans were countered — albeit more discreetly — in order to avoid antagonising black voters. My colleague Sithole produced a compelling argument, pointing out that the Americans were living in the past; could they not appreciate that they were no longer dealing with a white-dominated Rhodesia government, but with a black-dominated Zimbabwe Rhodesia government? This seemed to take them aback, and they were at a loss for a response. There were two gentlemen sitting at the side of the table who, we subsequently discovered, were from the British embassy. One made the point that we could not claim that the existing government truly represented black opinion because Nkomo and his party were not represented. Sithole came back, pointing out that both Nkomo and Mugabe had been invited to participate in the transitional government and had been offered seats on the executive council — who was holding them back?
I made the simple point that the issue before the US and British governments was the choice between the existing constitutional government of our country, and the communist-backed terrorists who had openly proclaimed their intention of gaining power through the barrel of the gun. It was difficult to understand the reason for their hesitation in coming to a verdict. They were at a loss to find replies to the points we had made. We were disappointed that Vance obviously knew little about our case, and was constantly groping for material from the brief on his desk and relying on his assistants for information. Sadly their knowledge of the subject was superficial and of no real assistance. This was not surprising, because it was not their responsibility; they were dragged in simply because of the power they wielded.
Their British friends in attendance were of scant assistance in spite of the fact that one of them was the ambassador, Peter Jay, who was the son-in-law of British Prime Minister Callaghan. According to our officials, the Americans were open in their criticism of his ineptness. Here was the tragedy of Rhodesia, being tossed about like a political shuttlecock by the big powers, which had only one objective: ‘How can we use this to our political advantage?’
The communists, whether you agreed with them or not, were at least consistent, and the people they were supporting knew where they stood. They asked one simple question: ‘Are you communists and will you work with us to spread our ideology?’ If the answer was in the affirmative you received what you required; if negative, you went without. But no such principles guided the leaders of the free world. Their decisions were motivated by expediency — votes in their constituencies.
For the benefit of the Americans present, I reiterated the case we had presented on many occasions to the British government. Rhodesia was a classic example of a country which had been consistently dedicated to the ideals of the British Empire: freedom, justice, the Westminster system of government with its inherent democracy, and economics based on the free enterprise system. In every world conflict of this century Rhodesia had fought on the side of Britain and the USA against the forces of totalitarianism, both in Europe and the Far East. We had always been in the forefront of the war against communism, which was making significant gains in many parts of the free world. Our particular concern was with Africa, because we were part of Africa, and were witnessing the communist invasion down our continent. Now they were knocking on our door, having succeeded in building their saddle across Africa to our north, thus creating the safe base from which they were planning their strategy to take over and control the ‘Persian Gulf of strategic minerals of this earth’, and thence on to dominate the vital Cape sea route, the main artery between east and west.
Vance and those around him expressed their deep concern and assured us of their dedication to the cause of spiking the guns of communists — but our efforts to get them to back up their words with deeds were in vain. They were excessively cautious in case they committed themselves to accepting anything which would be contrary to the wishes of the OAU. Once again we emphasised our support for an all-party conference, providing there were no pre-conditions. When Low asked: ‘What do you mean?’ Gaylard floored him by saying: ‘How many times have you told me that our commissioner of police would have to step down?’ There was no reply.
Sad to say that at the end of the day, in spite of our courteous reception and much pleasant talk, there was no progress. There were a few occasions when Andrew Young made contributions that were constructive, but these were side-stepped by the others, who pursued their course of appeasement. We were disappointed in Vance’s contributions, especially after his positive performance in Salisbury earlier in the year, and his words of encouragement during our meeting. When I asked for a firm decision, however, they all shook their heads negatively and made the excuse that they would give our suggestions the ‘most serious’ consideration. According to our advice, Vance was unable to make any positive decision without referring back to Carter, who would then obtain clearance from the OAU.
On 12 October I had a pleasant meeting with Henry Kissinger, who went out of his way to get a full briefing on everything that had transpired since the Pretoria agreement. He expressed his sadness over the manner in which we had been let down — in fact betrayed — by the current American administration and, although Carter was proving a disaster, he had hoped for a more positive stance from Vance. He believed our strongest tactic was to play on the telling point that a decision had to be made between the two options which confronted us: a government which would be brought in through the ballot box, as we were advocating; or a government which was going to be imposed through the barrel of a gun, as our terrorist opponents were threatening.
I assured him that this was one of the principal planks in our platform, and enumerated the points which formed the base of our case. He agreed that it would be dishonest of anyone to reject this. The tragedy of Rhodesia was that Gerald Ford had been defeated in the 1976 presidential election. After that, the agreement he had brokered collapsed — the sharks were biding their time in the shadows for just such an eventuality. On his way to Pretoria, Kissinger said, Nyerere had told him that he would not succeed in convincing me to agree to his plan. When he returned with my concurrence, Nyerere commented: ‘You have achieved a miracle which will pave the way to bring peace to our part of Africa.’ ‘Then,’ Kissinger recalled, ‘he went back on his word — that shows how much you can trust those people.’
I reminded him that I had pointed out to him and Vorster in Pretoria that their approach was the wrong way round, as once they received the message that I had agreed, they would tuck that under their belt and ask for more. We had learned from experience that a prerequisite was to get them to commit themselves in public. When you live in Africa you have a better comprehension of these people. Kissinger wondered why Vorster and the South Africans were not attuned to this. I smiled and told him that I had previously warned Vorster that, after so many years of apartheid, the National Party had lost touch with black Africa.
I enquired after his wife and requested him to convey my best wishes. He replied: ‘As you know she is a strong conservative, and I got into plenty of trouble for not securing for you a better deal!’ In conclusion, he reiterated his sorrow at being associated with this great tragedy of Rhodesia. In the face of tremendous provocation, he said, I had behaved with commendable dignity and restraint, and he had always been ready to say so openly and defend me against unjust accusations.
We had kept up a busy schedule in Washington, with TV interviews, a National Press Club luncheon attended by a capacity audience which gave us wide national coverage, and, on the final day (12 October), a meeting with members of the House of Representatives chaired by Congressman Ichord. This was followed by a second meeting with Senators Sparkman, Case, Javitts, Harry Byrd, Jessie Helms, Hayakawa and others who were all trying to offer practical help. Why were we opposing an all-party conference? was one question. It was easy to dispense with that canard, and prove that they had had the wool pulled over their eyes. We had consistently m
ade it clear that we supported, in fact advocated, an all-party conference with no pre-conditions, and we had emphasised this point at our meeting with Vance. We were able to present press cuttings reporting that Nkomo and Mugabe were in opposition to the conference.
This put the cat among the pigeons — the senators, were taken aback, indeed incensed that the State Department had misled them. They ordered their aides to contact the State Department immediately and arrange a meeting with Vance that day, as he was departing on the morrow for South Africa and the Namibia talks. I sat back with much satisfaction, enjoying the strong and biting criticism of the senators, which was like music to my ears: ‘How can we ever be expected to make a true assessment of any issue when we are fed such blatant misinformation?’ Some felt that Vance would not be party to such deceit, and that he would be upset over what had taken place. But others were unwilling to defend him, pointing out that he lacked the strength to discipline those who were ready to bend the facts in order to make them comply with their preconceived plans.
It was suggested that on my way out I drop in to pay my respects to majority leader Robert Byrd. He was courteous and proclaimed his concern over Rhodesia, and his hope that our mission would be successful. After parting company, however, I recorded my doubts as to whether he was one of those who would be prepared to back up his words with deeds. By contrast, I renewed acquaintances with a number of great and honest old familiar faces, such as Senator James Eastland, who along with all our other true friends mentioned above could be relied on to stand by their convictions.
From all quarters we met sympathetic understanding and commitment to support the obvious justice of our case, and surprisingly this was evident from the media people who had previously consistently opposed us and sided with the ultra-liberal establishment, the communists, the OAU, the terrorists. We welcomed this change and hoped that in time the administrations, both American and British, would come to their senses and acknowledge the justification of our cause — free and fair elections giving us a government based on the democratic system, as opposed to a government imposed through the barrel of the gun. We lived in hope and kept up the good fight.
One afternoon when we had a couple of hours to spare, we visited the Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, and it was time well spent. I asked my secretary to make a plan for us to visit the famous war memorials at the next opportunity. To my amazement he came back with a message from the White House saying that I should not visit the memorials. I asked him to inform them that my intended visit had no political connotations. During the last world war my Spitfire squadron was attached to an American wing stationed on Corsica — we had given cover to the Mitchells, Marauders and Bostons for their bombing raids over Italy. I knew Americans who were killed on those missions, in addition to a number of my personal squadron colleagues who never came back. I merely wished to pay my respects to those brave men, who died so that the rest of us could go on living in peace. The answer came back: ‘No change.’ I was no longer amazed, I was deeply incensed. My secretary said that even the Americans with whom he was working were disillusioned and commented: ‘That’s typical of the White House these days.’ I asked the top security man, Bob Nicholson, to come and have a chat — he assured me that his function was not to question where we went, but merely to ensure that we did not run into trouble, such as demonstrators. Next day we had a good tour of the monuments, some of them tremendously impressive, and I devoted some time, especially in front of the Second World War memorial, thinking of those who paid the supreme sacrifice. I repeated those tremendous never-to-be-forgotten words: ‘At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them.’ It was a successful mission, and I slept contented that night. Bob Nicholson was happy too. He said so.
On Friday the thirteenth, we landed at La Guardia Airport after a short flight. There are lots of people and lots of traffic in many places on our planet, but New York takes pride of place, or rather it should hang its head in shame: a classic example of population pollution. We had a pleasant lunch with Newsweek on top of a skyscraper and an understanding and fact-finding discussion with their editorial staff. Unexpectedly, a pleasant girl behind the reception desk said she was sorry to read of my intention to pull out of politics because she felt that the wisdom of my many years of political experience would be invaluable to the future government. This was indeed a profound comment, especially bearing in mind what ensued — a government so bloated with arrogance that they believe they know the answer to every problem. But, if chaos and disaster ensue, they look the other way.
We had a meeting with a number of prominent New Yorkers who were supportive to our cause. They believed it would be worthwhile to see Zbigniev Brzezenski, Carter’s National Security Advisor, who was tough and shrewd, and who, they thought might be prepared to help — we readily accepted. Sadly, their spokesman phoned us in Los Angeles to say that Brzezenski was in favour but, as it impinged on Vance’s preserve, he had to clear it with Carter who characteristically shied away from the idea.
That evening in New York, we were given a great dinner and a tremendous reception by the America–Rhodesian Association. When we arrived at the hotel there was a group of demonstrators indicating their opposition. One held a placard saying: ‘Down with Smith’, but he had forgotten his lines and was shouting ‘Down with the Shah’ — that had been his job last week! As we were laughing and pointing at him, one of his comrades jabbed him in the ribs and gave him the message — he immediately changed to: ‘Down with Smith’. This was one of the many times that I had been confronted with ‘Rent-a-Crowd’. While I am sympathetic to giving work to the unemployed, there surely must be many other more productive methods of doing it. For the first time in the USA there were policemen on horseback — beautiful. They were lovely, big horses and obviously effective at their task — the demonstrators clearly kept their distance. We had an excellent feast and all four members of our delegation were given a great reception after our speeches. It was embarrassing for me to be presented with a miniature replica of a lighthouse, because ‘for so many years I had served as a warning beacon to the free world of the dangers of international communism’.
We took off that night for Los Angeles, and in spite of the fact that we put our watches back three hours, it was well after midnight by the time we booked into our hotel. This was my first ride in a DC10, and I was kindly invited on to the flight deck — it was good to know that the bonds of fellowship associated with air pilots were worldwide. I was fascinated by what I saw: we were flying over the desert and it looked pretty dead with an occasional light in the dim distance. We were talking about the world we inhabited, and they were especially interested in my views on Africa. These air crew chaps travel far and wide and had an intelligent comprehension of international affairs. Their assessment was pertinent, especially after our stay in Washington — ‘If only our politicians would make honest decisions on the facts before them, 90 per cent of our problems would be solved.’ Suddenly the captain said: ‘See what we are coming to.’ A fantastic panorama of glittering lights and flashing neon signs, like a massive rocket suddenly exploding in the wilderness: Las Vegas. And beyond, a long streak of lights stretching westwards into the distance: cars from Los Angeles on their way to spend a weekend at the gambling tables. I stayed with them for the landing and enjoyed the unusual experience of coming down in a Los Angeles fog, which I gather is a daily occurrence — we saw the deck only when we were a few hundred feet above it.
We spent three full days in the area. One day we visited San Diego for a lunchtime address to 450 editors at Edicon Congress hosted by UPF. We were pleasantly surprised at how supportive they were. En route to the airport, we stopped off for an hour to see their world-famous zoo, where the animals certainly live under almost ideal conditions. Coming from Africa, I always have reservations about animals in captivity, but there are positive aspects in the fields of research and education, preservation of endangered species, transloca
tion and veterinary requirements for damaged animals. The San Diego Zoo is certainly a credit to those associated with it. As I looked down from the hilltop on to the tremendous city, beautifully planned and laid out, the impressive naval base, there was for me a special emotional sensation. When my father emigrated to Rhodesia his elder brother, Lige, went to the United States and set himself up in business in New York. Their intention was to keep in touch, and when it was ascertained where the best place to live was, they would join up. Each was a strong character, and each believed he had made the right choice. Our families met once in England for a reunion, and although young at the time, I retained clear memories of the occasion. Lige was successful in his business, and at the age of sixty sold out and retired to a ‘small’ town in southern California named San Diego — we had never heard of the place. He spent a rewarding twilight period, active in local community affairs, and died at the great age of ninety-four. We kept in communication and during UDI years he constantly sent messages of encouragement and hoped that I would soon be able to manoeuvre myself into a position from whence I could ‘deliver a KO blow to those devious British politicians’. Happily, he did not live to witness the day when they, with the support of his US government, would betray their own kith and kin.
In between press and TV interviews, I insisted on a visit to Disneyland, which was absolutely fantastic and provided us with some of our happiest moments of the trip. There was all the beauty and romance of Walt Disney, coupled with the best of American expertise and organisation, and the management and staff extended to us a degree of kindness and hospitality that was quite exceptional.
