Bitter Harvest

by Ian Smith

  I made a simple statement regretting that our Chief Justice had allowed himself to be dragged into the political arena, and said that I believed he would live to regret it. Without further ado, he rose and departed from the meeting. It was the one and only time he attended any of our sessions. Obviously he was there with one intent: to make the point that, in the opinion of the Chief Justice, if the government of the day wished to violate their country’s constitution, there was no reason why it should not do so. This was an absolutely bizarre situation, and our Minister of Justice, Chris Andersen, shook his head in disbelief — he could not credit what he had witnessed.

  The next item on the scene was the appearance of Pik Botha: he had appointments with Muzorewa and some of our other black leaders, and, as I was subsequently to learn, with David Smith from my delegation. He assured them all that, in the South African assessment, the terms of the agreement were acceptable, and the South African government would give the necessary support to ensure that the election would provide the correct result for our government. Moreover he had been assured of British support for this objective.

  I spoke to Rowan Cronjé and asked if he thought the South Africans were trying to avoid me, knowing that I held a different opinion. I believed that, as the leader of our delegation, he should have taken the trouble to consult me, even more so if he knew I held reservations over the proposals. Rowan agreed, and said he would speak to Dawie de Villiers, the South African Ambassador in London. He came back to me shortly after, saying that Pik was returning that evening from the Continent to catch the SAA flight from Heathrow to Jan Smuts. Pik apologised for not meeting me in London, a regrettable oversight. But fortuitously he had a half-hour wait at Heathrow for his connection, and he would reserve that for me. Everything went according to plan, and after giving me a warm welcome we sat down for our discussion. He wasted no time in briefing me on his trip to America, Britain and the Continent. He was at pains to explain how he never ceased to be amazed at how reluctant these countries were to acknowledge that South Africa was changing. Britain, Pik said, was the best of them and was trying to be constructive. But this was because there was reciprocity with South Africa assisting over the Rhodesian problem, and together they were trying to introduce a bit of reason and sanity into the other governments of sub-Saharan Africa. Why, Pik asked, would they not accept that apartheid was on the way out? And that the South African government required encouragement and credit for what they were doing, not condemnation over past history?

  This was nothing new to me; I had heard it before many times. I was keeping an eye on my watch and twenty minutes of my allocated half hour had gone without my managing to get one word in. Slowly and deliberately I leant forward and catching his eye, said: ‘I am worried that any minute now you will be called for your flight. Do you mind if I make a few points about this Lancaster House conference?’ Reluctantly, he nodded his head in approval and sat back in his chair. Knowing his facility for presenting his case loquaciously and dramatically, he was clearly taken aback at being curbed while in full stride.

  I gave him the reasons for my concern over the proposed agreement, pointing out that it would play into the hands of the terrorists, resulting in a Patriotic Front government, with Mugabe replacing Nkomo as leader. The evidence in support of my case was clear and compelling. He appeared somewhat subdued, and methodically expressed his surprise at hearing my views, because they were in conflict with all the other opinions given to him. Even David Smith? I asked. He pondered for a few moments, obviously sensing the gravity of my question, and then replied in the affirmative. He ended up by saying that the South African government had great respect for my experience and knowledge of African affairs, and he assured me that he would report my views to his Prime Minister.

  I was not sanguine, however, and the thoughts passing through my mind on the drive back to the hotel were that he was not really interested in my case. The South Africans, with all their power and strength and superior knowledge, had all the answers to Africa’s problems; their minds were made up and they had no intention of allowing themselves to be deviated. So with Carrington, and Pik Botha and Jimmy Carter working together for the same objectives, the dice were obviously loaded. If a small country like Rhodesia had to be sacrificed as a morsel to feed the crocodile, that was an insignificant price to pay in order to buy time and secure some respite.

  The day had arrived for our government delegation to make their decision on the draft constitution. I felt a genuine sorrow for Muzorewa because he was out of his depth, not really in the same league as the other players in the ‘no-holds-barred’ rough and tumble of international politics. Carrington had said to him, in order to persuade him to stand down as Prime Minister during the period of preparation for the general election: ‘Of course everyone knows that you are going to be the in-coming Prime Minister, so you may leave your slippers behind in your office to await your return.’ In fact, if Carrington had acted in keeping with the Lancaster House agreement concerning parties which resorted to intimidation during the election campaign, as will be recorded later, Muzorewa would have been Prime Minister, but for reasons of political expediency he changed his stance.

  Our party held the normal after-breakfast meeting before the commencement of other business, and I invited further discussions on the proposed agreement which was to be considered by our all-party meeting. There were no new opinions. We reiterated our belief that there were inadequate safeguards to ensure free and fair elections, and the concession to allow armed terrorists freedom to operate throughout the country intimidating voters would ensure a Patriotic Front victory. It amounted to legalising terrorism.

  There were other omissions, less vital but none the less important, such as the guaranteeing and remittability of pensions, and a fund to provide foreign exchange for those who believed they could no longer live in the country if, for instance, communist dictatorship should eventuate. We had also pressed for stronger safeguards for minorities in order to create the necessary confidence to encourage them to remain in the country and continue providing their professionalism, experience and skills, and there were a number of other beneficial conditions which would have made it more acceptable. I had nominated David Smith as the senior minister to vote with me. My comment was that I believed our two votes (each party was entitled to two voting delegates) would be the only opposition, because the previous day Chief Chirau mentioned to me that their party was having second thoughts about opposing the agreement, as there was great pressure to convince them that such action would be to the detriment of the future of the Chiefs’ Council. The Foreign Office had clearly prepared their case meticulously, and resorted to every devious tactic to obtain maximum approval.

  I was sad to see their changing course like this, because they had always been dedicated and consistent. They knew that the terrorists were the Chiefs’ deadly enemies, dedicated to destroying the tribal structure for the obvious reason that it was an impediment to the communist philosophy of totalitarianism. On more than one occasion I had heard their apt description: ‘They are cowards. They bite from behind when your back is turned and then run away like jackals, instead of standing and fighting like men.’ Some Chiefs had been murdered because they would not support the terrorists. They assured me, however, that they would stand their ground, even if it meant that they would be killed. That was their fate, they were born into it, and they had to have the courage to face it, like true men.

  It gave me much satisfaction to work with these people, renewed my faith in my fellow men, and underlined the fact that courage and strength of character are not confined to one particular class of people. Sadly, treason and corruption are efficient forces, quietly and insidiously penetrating underground. By the time one becomes aware of the destruction which has taken place, it is too late. The honest, straightforward approach of the Chiefs was incompatible with the underworld of politics in which they were now enmeshed, and they were clearly bemused by all the manoeuvring and
pressures to which they were being subjected.

  When we entered the lounge which had been allocated for our meeting there was an obvious air of expectancy over the decision to be made, with the buzz of people talking while others were attending to the final plans. Muzorewa was sitting in his chair at the top table, and eventually called the meeting to order, explained the reason for our coming together, and reminded us that each delegation was entitled to two votes. Was there any discussion? Briefly I reiterated the reasons for our opposition, without belabouring the points, as we had made our views clear in previous discussions, and I concluded by giving a warning that if the agreement were accepted, we would live to regret it.

  The vote was taken, and there was only one vote against: mine. David Smith, the second vote in our delegation, had cast his vote in favour. The rest of our party members were completely taken aback. The meeting was over and we retired upstairs to the room where we held our discussion. I asked David Smith to account for what he had done and, without hesitation, he replied that for some time he had been having second thoughts, and after giving the question deep consideration his conscience dictated that he should vote in support. Chris Andersen hit the nail on the head when he asked the simple question: ‘Do you not believe you should have given us forewarning?’

  There was no reply. He was left in no doubt that the other members of our delegation took exception to the fact that he had breached the trust and team spirit which had been built up, not only at Lancaster House, but over the many years that we had fought and stood together in the battle for Rhodesia. We were inured to accepting this kind of treatment from our enemies, but from our trusted colleagues and friends? I recalled Cicero’s famous words: ‘A nation can survive its fools and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within.’

  Maybe I should have anticipated this kind of behaviour, because of reports of his meetings with Pik Botha, Carrington and others. I always encouraged such contacts, and welcomed the exchange of ideas and information which emanated from them and was passed on. But when this is carried on behind one’s back, obviously suspicions are aroused. Sadly, this was the beginning of a trend of unfortunate incidents which proved that David Smith was hedging his bets to ensure that whatever the final outcome, he would be on the winning side. I was subsequently informed by one of the members of our government team that Muzorewa had promised him a post in his next cabinet. By working in collusion with Carrington, however, he received his reward even when Mugabe was the winner.

  Later that afternoon Kayisa Ndweni, the Matabele Chief and one of the doyens of the Chiefs’ Council, confided in me his grave doubts over their support for the constitution, but he said: ‘I was out-voted. These Shonas do not understand politics — they have not had enough experience.’

  Then out of the blue there came a flash of news which raised my hopes and made me feel that the miracle had happened. Mugabe believed that he had not gained sufficient concessions to ensure his victory in the election, and so he decided to register his protest by making a dramatic withdrawal from the conference. He had packed his bags and was making arrangements to fly out to the United States. This was the kind of tactic that these people resorted to, and threats had already been made. Fortunately the British had made it clear that if any party pulled out, the conference would continue without them, and we had been assured that there would be no deviation from this plan. Our spirits were buoyant and we set about our business in a more sanguine frame of mind.

  Sadly, it was not to be. Carrington contacted Samora Machel, and he delivered the goods. Machel despatched his ambassador in London to Heathrow, where he intercepted Mugabe and conveyed a firm message. If Mugabe broke away from the conference, then he must know that he would not be permitted to continue using Mozambique as a base for his operations. Clearly, Mugabe had no option. He returned to his hotel with his tail between his legs. I do not believe he could have been as depressed as I was — my hopes were dashed.

  I received a telephone call from Julian Amery telling me of his predicament when Margaret Thatcher informed him that, according to reports she had received, David Smith had disagreed with me. When Julian told her that he had positively agreed in his presence, she advised him to check again. Moreover, Carrington had assured her that he had Chief Justice MacDonald in his pocket as well! Regrettably, I had to confirm both of these facts. ‘So,’ said Julian, ‘methinks we have had the rug pulled from under our feet.’

  I was saddened. When one is part of a small band of people trying to make a stand on principle, surrounded by enemies conniving to sabotage your case, one derives satisfaction from the justice of one’s cause and the conviction that history will prove its validity. It is indeed a privilege to be associated with such an occasion, something unknown to those who grovel in the troughs of appeasement and compromise.

  But it was all over bar the shouting, and so I started making plans for my return home. Of course a grand celebration party was laid on, but it clashed with a dinner arranged by my 130 Squadron colleagues in the city. There were five of them still around, and we invited Douglas Bader to join us. It was a happy occasion, and we took our time reminiscing about those wonderful days, and the associated history that enables all true Britishers to hold their heads high.

  It gave me a satisfying feeling to have a genuine excuse to send my apologies to the Lancaster House celebration, because in all honesty it would have been a nauseous occasion for me, and to pretend otherwise would have been hypocritical. Even had I attended in mourning garb it would not have rung true, because funerals are occasions when one pays one’s respects. My only feeling would have been contempt, and I believe all true Britishers would have joined me in bowing their heads in shame.

  Tragically, this is the kind of occasion which plays into the hands of the opportunist who waits to see which way the wind is blowing and then bends with it, regardless of the consequences to others. Over the next few months, during the period of the run-up to the election, there were many such opportunities. It goes without saying that this kind of behaviour earned the disapproval of the great mass of our people who had succeeded in preserving their high standards of integrity and belief in the principles of fair play to one’s fellow-men. Obviously, feelings ran high and there was much straight-from-the-shoulder talking.

  The comments in my diary reflect this mood, and, while I have always resisted indulging in personal recrimination and character assassination, it is only right that the truth of the occasion be recorded for history.

  11.11.79 — Arrived back from the London Conference. My comment at the airport: while we have been landed with a bad agreement, we have no option but to make the most of it. Our country will succeed in the future in proportion to the white content of our population. Accordingly, my main task now is to preserve the confidence and morale of our whites in order to convince the maximum number to go on living and working in Rhodesia so that we retain their expertise, professionalism, experience, initiative and all those other desirable qualities which have contributed towards making this country one of the success stories of the modern world.

  I immediately had a busy day on 12 November, meeting a string of people, black and white, wanting to know what was happening and giving their views on the situation. I received a briefing from one of the senior members of the South African embassy, who spoke in confidence and must therefore remain anonymous. He expressed the unhappiness of many South Africans over the conduct of their external affairs. He referred in particular to a meeting Pik Botha had had with Muzorewa and David Smith to plan assistance for UANC, both financial and material, coupled with instructions to keep me at arm’s length in case I disapproved of their actions. If Muzorewa won the election, I was told, he would bring in David Smith to represent the white community. Then there was the disturbing news that David had for some time been scheming behind my back, and this had culminated in a meeting arranged by John Landau with selected MPs — those whom they believed would comply — to seek agreeme
nt to move me out and put David Smith in my chair. David had claimed strongly that the South African government were in support of such a move. Unfortunately for David and Landau, they received a hostile reception from the MPs, who told them to do the honest thing and put their plan before our caucus. No more was heard about it. A message from Harold Hawkins informed us that the scheme had been the brainchild of South African Foreign Affairs, and no one else in their government knew about it or would support it.

  As my caucus knew, as did the whole party, I was more than ready to step aside and hand over to a successor, but there was a clear message to the effect that I was the only person with the experience and track record to enable me to handle the situation confronting us, and hold the confidence of our white community. I believe the point was substantiated by the fact that at the ensuing election the Rhodesian Front won all twenty of the seats allocated to the whites.