From Verwoerd to Mandela
A trilogy
Compiled by Pieter Wolvaardt, Tom Wheeler and Werner Scholtz
(Crink, the first two at R250 each and the third R300)
The Untold Story could easily have been the sub-title to this trilogy of reminiscences of (mostly former) diplomats of the Department of Foreign Affairs during the period defined by the title. However, this is no dour academic account of diplomatic practice, but rather an entertaining, sometimes serious, sometimes hilarious recounting of the experiences of various diplomats “in the field”.
One common thread which runs through most of these memoirs is the conflict of conscience experienced by most of these officials of having to defend, or at the very least explain, domestic policies in which they could not believe. This became more and more prevalent and difficult to deal with in the period of the “Total Onslaught” under the tutelage of President PW Botha and his State Security Council.
The only way in which the officials concerned could justify to themselves their continued efforts on behalf of South Africa was to keep on believing in the message which they were disseminating, namely that “changes are coming – just give us time”. Fortunately, for them and for South Africa, these yearnings came to fruition with the assumption of power by President FW de Klerk and, shortly afterwards, the unbanning of the ANC and the release from prison of Nelson Mandela and his comrades.
Among the personal stories related to this moral dilemma, the most poignant and powerful is probably the terse, one-line note sent by the Archbishop of Canterbury to the South African ambassador in London after the death in detention of Steve Biko: “I do not know how you can you represent a government like that.”
Another dilemma faced by South African diplomats of this era was the threat to their credibility occasioned by the disinformation being fed to them officially and deliberately, especially during the “bush war” on the border between Namibia and Angola. At the height of the South Africa’s incursions into Angola, the “message” which the missions abroad were asked to convey to their foreign interlocutors was that these troops were limited in number and deployed just across the border in order to protect the Kunene River hydro-electric scheme against attack. These interlocutors, however, had access to eminently credible information proving that large numbers of South African troops, supported by air power, had moved deep into Angolan territory and that some elements were even reported to be at the outskirts of Luanda. The embarrassment to these diplomats, just trying to do their job based on the “truths” that had been conveyed to them, is easily imaginable.
Despite these impediments, the inroads which South Africa made in the far-flung corners of the world were truly astounding. Even a former Deputy Foreign Minister, Kobus Meiring, shortly after his appointment, expressed his astonishment “to learn how many contacts have quietly been made by our officials with other African states”. From cattle-breeding projects in West Africa to residential, representative or trade offices in various African countries, the contact with Africa was already well established early on, and could easily be developed further once the stigma of the apartheid regime had been jettisoned.
Another observation which the reader is bound to make is the vast difference which existed in those “difficult days” between the cordial, often friendly interaction which South African diplomats and even political leaders had with their counterparts of other countries, and the vehement rhetoric of public utterances against South Africa, especially in international forums such as the UN or the Organisation of African Unity, by those very same personalities or their representatives.
A case in point was Henry Kissinger’s remark to John Vorster after a dinner following their first meeting: “Mr Prime Minister, how diffe-rent you are from what my officials had led me to believe.” Another is the fact that South Africa’s ambassador to Swaziland actually wrote the statement which the Swazi Prime Minister made to the UN, “condemn-ing” South Africa for a military raid launched on three targets in Swaziland.
The life of a diplomat is varied, however, and the comic element also features widely in the trilogy. A non-career high commissioner to London asked his private secretary to find out what the dress code would be to the opening of parliament by the Queen. Having consulted his colleague in the Italian embassy, the private secretary informed the high commissioner that it would be formal morning dress with top hat.
What the Italian did not know, however, was that high commis-sioners from Commonwealth countries, which South Africa was at that stage, had the tradition of wearing white tie and tails to this ceremony.
Despite his fears, the young man retained his job and rose through the ranks to become one of South Africa’s most effective permanent representatives to the UN in New York.
Another story, told in light vein but almost ending in disaster, is about a diplomat returning from his first posting and deciding to sail his yacht from Angola to South Africa because the department refused to ship it back as part of his “personal effects” – this was in the midst of the Angolan civil war.
The increasing isolation of South Africa in the period covered by this trilogy produced a number of cloak-and-dagger adventures for South Africa’s diplomats abroad. In the UK, four employees of Armscor and its subsidiary Kentron were arrested and charged with attempting to smuggle out spare parts for South Africa’s Kukri missile and G4 long-range field guns, in contravention of the UN arms embargo. Being charged in Coventry, the press soon labelled them the “Coventry Four”. Pleading that they had to return to South Africa to prepare for their trial, they were released on bail and under the respons-ibility of an embassy official. Once back in South Africa, efforts began to find an excuse for not returning them to Britain for trial.
At the same time, six members of the UDM against whom warrants of arrest had been issued entered the premises of the UK consulate in Durban, seeking asylum. The British authorities refused to hand them over to the police. This left the door open for applying a doctrine which, in cynical terms, can only be described as “reciprocity of bad faith”. It provides that a valid or legitimate act of reprisal by one state against another has to be preceded by a breach of international law by the state against which the act of reprisal was directed. According to the department’s legal advisers, the action of the British Consulate warranted an act of reprisal.
In Germany, a diplomat remembers surreptitiously assisting scientists from the South African Atomic Energy Board to visit factories in the Bavarian woods where specialised pumps and valves were produced which could have been used to enrich uranium in South Africa. On another occasion, he had to send a special diplomatic bag to South Africa containing blueprints for an armoured vehicle which resembled nothing that was used at that stage by the German military, but very much like the Ratel armoured personnel carrier which South Africa began producing soon afterwards.
Sometimes, however, the shoe in this “game” was on the other foot. From his term of duty in Rome, an official recalls having to assist a Frenchman needing a visa for South Africa. This Mr Gelas explained in French and very broken English why it had been impossible for him to obtain the visa at the Paris embassy, as was required.
The official, who was leaving at midday for a weekend in Venice with a friend from the intelligence section of the Paris embassy, told his secretary (in Afrikaans, so Gelas could not understand) that he would issue the visa, but that she should tell Gelas he had to come back later that afternoon for a decision – just to let Gelas “sweat a bit” because he did not play by the rules.
Later that evening in Venice, his friend from Paris enquired whether he had issued the visa. On hearing that he had, the intelligence man informed him that Gelas was in fact Breyten Breytenbach and that the intel-ligence services had been watching him for a while and knew about his efforts to get to South Africa.
The three compilers of this trilogy should be thanked for the huge effort they made to obtain these memoirs from their former colleagues and for putting it together in such a readable way. Being a compilation of contributions of various authors, it does suffer the weakness of any anthology, namely that the elements are not all of the same quality and interest. It is nevertheless a necessary and useful addition to the history of South African diplomacy.