Mrs Thatcher And Africa – By Richard Dowden
April 8, 2013

Mrs Thatcher played a pivotal role in the ending of Apartheid in spite
of herself. She once declared the African National Congress to be a
“typical terrorist organisation… Anyone who thinks it is going to run
the government in South Africa is living in cloud-cuckoo land”.
But she gave these “terrorists” diplomatic protection. In the mid
1980s the South African government blew up the ANC offices in London
and tried to kidnap its members in London including Thabo Mbeki and
Oliver Tambo. She was obliged to provide armed bodyguards for their
most senior officials.
A close aide once told me that she opposed Apartheid more on the
grounds that it was a sin against economic liberalism rather than a
crime against humanity. She also was bitterly against sanctions of any
sort – they were a crime against free trade. She even went on
denouncing them after Britain and the rest of the Commonwealth had
imposed a ban on sporting contacts and other marginal sanctions. She
boasted that she alone had managed to fight off demands for stronger
sanctions.
Advised by her husband Dennis who had business interests in South
Africa, she felt that anything that damaged wealth creation must be
bad for South Africa. She was also a great admirer of Laurens van der
Post, the South African writer and traveller later exposed as a fraud,
who also opposed sanctions on the country. He introduced her to
Mangosuthu Buthelezi, the Zulu leader, who played an ambivalent role
in the struggle against apartheid, splitting from the ANC in 1979 and
accepting “homeland” status for Kwazulu. His movement, Inkatha, helped
the South African police repress ANC rebellion in the townships.
But in spite of her instincts, Mrs Thatcher played a pivotal role in
southern Africa. As Britain’s new Prime Minister in 1979 she was
persuaded by Commonwealth leaders at their meeting in Lusaka, where
she famously danced with President Kenneth Kaunda, to try to end the
war in Rhodesia – now Zimbabwe. That led to the Lancaster House
conference and an election in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe which was won
overwhelmingly by someone she despised – Robert Mugabe.
>From that “success” she was persuaded to try to deal with apartheid in
South Africa. She began by making two trips to other countries in
Africa. In 1988 I followed her to Kenya where she was greeted by
President Daniel arap Moi, and to Nigeria where she was welcomed by
the military dictator, General Ibrahim Babangida, to whom she sold
tanks.
In Kano, during that visit, she was feted by a Durbar by the Emir. The
Kano Durbar traditionally ends with a cavalry charge, with the horses
rearing up in the front of the Emir and guests, who must greet the
riders with a clenched fist salute. At that time the clenched fist was
best known as the protest gesture of the radical Black Power Movement.
Mrs Thatcher tried to wave but the Emir insisted she followed
tradition. I caught a glimpse of her appalled face as she looked at
her raised and closing hand. She never quite completed the action.
The following year she visited President Mugabe in Zimbabwe where
British troops were training Mozambicans to fight off the South
African-backed Renamo movement. A mock attack was organised and she
sat between Mugabe and President Joachim Chissano to observe. The
“bushes” right in front of them suddenly sprang to life and started
shooting. The noise was deafening and nobody had warned the watchers
that tracer bullets fired away somehow look as if they are coming
towards you. I saw Mugabe and Chissano duck and some of the officials
flung themselves down. Mrs Thatcher didn’t blink.
A few years later a call came through to Downing Street on a Sunday
afternoon from a public phone. It was Mr Mugabe. He had come to London
privately with his wife, Sally, who needed regular dialysis for
diabetes. He asked if he could come to visit Mrs Thatcher. She agreed
and on a Sunday evening at Downing Street the two sat and talked
informally about the world and life like old friends – she sipping
whisky and he water. It was not the only time that happened.
Although some aid was announced on her Africa trips and, more
important to Mrs T’s agenda, trade deals struck, the journeys were
essentially about South Africa. She boasted about fighting off demands
for sanctions against South Africa with more vigour than she denounced
apartheid so her advisers persuaded her that she had to do something
positive to show she was not supporting the South African government.
The strategy was to give them the assurance that there would never be
sanctions and use that goodwill to force reform.
I was briefed off-the-record by her foreign affairs adviser on several
occasions, but when he told me that she had called on President P.W.
Botha to release Nelson Mandela, I found it difficult to believe. I
did not report it as I could not source it. But it was true. In a
letter to Botha in October 1985 she wrote: “I continue to believe, as
I have said to you before, that the release of Nelson Mandela would
have more impact than almost any single action you could undertake.”
When Botha stepped down after a stroke in 1989, he was replaced by
F.W. de Klerk who met Mrs Thatcher at Downing Street in June. I was
among a group of journalists waiting outside No 10 with the promise
that he would give a press conference straight after. We watched him
leave then ran up Whitehall to the South African Embassy where he had
promised to speak. He did not turn up. We were told later that he had
been too shocked by Mrs Thatcher’s vehemence.
Mandela was released on February 11th 1990 (I was at the gates of the
jail but to my eternal chagrin I failed to spot him). That evening he
made a speech from the balcony of the town hall in Cape Town which was
televised live world wide. The speech was a poor one, written by the
hard-liners and Communists in the ANC and was full of Marxist jargon.
He said: “Our resort to the armed struggle in 1960… was a purely
defensive action against the violence of apartheid. The factors which
necessitated the armed struggle still exist today. We have no option
but to continue.” Mrs Thatcher was appalled. She picked up the
telephone to Robin Renwick, the British Ambassador in South Africa,
and demanded to know why she had ever bothered to battle for Mandela’s
release if this was the result.
But Mandela felt that at this stage he had to submit himself to party
discipline. That was the reason that among the first people he visited
after his release was Colonel Gadaffi. And when he came to London the
ANC Central Committee insisted – against his wishes – that he did not
meet Mrs Thatcher. After he did finally meet her later that year he
thanked her for helping to end Apartheid and announced this at a press
conference soon after. Senior ANC officials I was sitting next to
spluttered with rage.
My last meeting with Mrs Thatcher was at F.W. de Klerk’s book launch
at Foyles in 1999. I asked her about South Africa and her role. She
launched into praise for Mr de Klerk and then for Laurens van der Post
and Chief Buthelezi – “a marvellous man” she kept repeating. I asked
what she thought about Mandela. “I never met him”, she said looking
confused. How could anyone meet Mandela and not remember? Now I
realise why.
Richard Dowden is Director of the Royal African Society and author of
Africa; altered states, ordinary miracles. For more of Richard’s blogs
click here.

-- 
You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups 
"South Sudan Info - The Kob" group.
To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email 
to [email protected].
To post to this group, send email to [email protected].
For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.


Reply via email to