Right Around the Corner

RHODESIA

To an outsider, the 250,000 whites of Rhodesia would seem to have little need to declare independence from Britain. They seem happy enough as they are. The climate is marvelous, the soil fertile, the servants plentiful and the commerce thriving--thanks largely to Commonwealth tariff protection for their goods. Moreover, since Britain has allowed them a free hand in governing themselves since 1923, Rhodesians have no trouble whatsoever in keeping firm control over the colony's 4,000,000 blacks, only 60,000 of whom are even eligible to vote.

All this is not enough. With independent black nations swarming into the U.N. and the Commonwealth, and the possibility of racial unrest spreading southward across the Zambezi, Rhodesia's whites have become increasingly militant. They are concerned that some time or other, Britain will make them live up to their colonial constitution--which, in theory at least, guarantees eventual African majority rule. Their new militancy is personified by Prime Minister Ian Smith, who came to power 18 months ago on a platform of "no African rule in my lifetime." Ever since, he has claimed that to protect this principle Rhodesia must have its complete freedom. If Britain would not grant it, then he would take it--in a unilateral declaration of independence.

Tommies or Tobacco? Last week--barring an outright threat of war from Prime Minister Harold Wilson--a declaration of independence seemed right around the corner. Following a week of talks with Wilson in London, Smith held a 95-minute press conference at which he declared that Wilson refused to "negotiate" independence on Rhodesia's terms, and therefore "we have to face up to the alternative, which is U.D.I." What Wilson wanted from Smith was a specific, concrete timetable toward total African enfranchisement. What he got was a promise that a sovereign Rhodesia would grant blacks their rights some time within "15 to 50 years," depending, that is, "on how responsible the Africans were."

That, in turn, was not enough for Wilson. He warned Smith of "unmentionable and highly dangerous consequences" if Rhodesia seceded. Smith was evidently prepared to call his bluff. He was banking heavily on the probability that although some voices in Britain were calling for British troops, a vast segment of British public opinion would protest the use of tommies to put down an Anglo-Saxon insurrection (Britain has not gone in for that sort of thing since 1776). Instead, what seemed to lie ahead was economic reprisals: the freezing of Rhodesia's sterling deposits, ejection from the Commonwealth and its tariff protection, trade boycotts or embargoes. All of which did not seem to bother former Finance Minister Smith. Indeed, despite the vulnerability of Rhodesia's $50-million-a-year tobacco trade with Britain, it was an open question as to how successful sanctions would be, though both the U.S. and West Germany told Smith they would cooperate with Britain. As one letter writer to the Rhodesia Herald pointed out: "History is one of the few guides that we have. A look at all past threats of sanctions by the League of Nations and the United Nations shows that they have proved remarkably ineffective."

Tea Party. Britain was faced not only with a moral responsibility but with a grave political dilemma as well. There was an immediate possibility of secession of other members of the Commonwealth. Both Kenya and Tanzania let it be known last week that they might pull out of Britain's club if Wilson let Smith get away with his declaration. More frightening was the chance of a racial bloodbath that, as the phrase in Whitehall had it, "would make the Congo look like a tea party." Indeed, last week one group of African nationalists attacked the Bulawayo-Salisbury mail train at a siding, smashing windows, tossing a gasoline bomb into the dining car, and burning three white men.

Rhodesia's police force, however, is strong, and so far there was no sign of a concerted African uprising inside the country. What really worried London was the way Rhodesians were muttering about an "armed invasion" from neighboring Zambia, to the north, one which presumably would give them a chance to retaliate with some sanctions of their own. Rhodesia could place an economic strangle hold on Zambia, since it supplies electric power from the Kariba Dam and coal from the Wankie collieries to power Zambia's huge copper mines, which provide 16% of the free world's copper. Rhodesia also controls Zambia's main rail link to the sea.

Of course, said Smith last week, "We have no intention of interfering with supplies or transit unless we are placed in a position where they have declared war against us,"--but some 203 cases of small arms and ammunition, destined for Zambia, were already reposing in Mozambique, because Rhodesia has denied them passage to Zambia.

Perhaps the only nation which now might talk Smith out of U.D.I, was his southern neighbor--and it was clear that South Africa was concerned. Hendrik Verwoerd would welcome the presence of an independent and white Rhodesia as a buffer state against the nations to the north--and if worse came to worst, would undoubtedly stand behind it. But the experience of recent years had shown how fast violence can spread in Africa. Counseled Cape Town's pro-Verwoerd Afrikaans newspaper, Die Burger: "Should the views expressed by Britain and Rhodesia in London prove irreconcilable, Rhodesia should give time and patience another opportunity, no matter what painful self-control this might demand."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.