Monday, Nov. 15, 1976

Ivor Richard: Man in the Middle

Dressed for the part, Ivor Richard, 44, Britain's Ambassador to the United Nations and currently chairman of the Rhodesian conference in Geneva, would make a splendidly old-fashioned John Bull. Burly, ebullient and pipe smoking, the bespectacled barrister is anything but timid--the description Nationalist Leader Joshua Nkomo applied to the British role in the negotiations. That much, at least, was made clear two days before the conference opened when Richard waded into what he called a "good verbal punch-up" with a member of an African nationalist delegation.

Complaining bitterly about Britain's colonial record in Rhodesia, the delegate, Mukudzei Mudzi, exploded: "You just think we are a lot of damned niggers!" Barked back Richard: "You ought to know that word is not in my vocabulary, and you should not seek to put it there. Before we go any further with this meeting, I want you to withdraw that remark." Mudzi backed off, and there were no hard feelings, especially after Richard learned that Mudzi had just been released from prison in Zambia, where he had been held since March 1975 without trial on suspicion of murdering another black leader. "I think it cleared the air," Richard told TIME.

What upset black Rhodesian leaders was that Britain had not seen fit to send Foreign Secretary Anthony Crosland to the conference. This omission seemed to confirm their long-held view that Britain, once again, was evading its responsibility for the Rhodesian drama. The African delegates hastened to make clear that their objections were not to Richard personally. Even Robert Mugabe, regarded as the most militant of the delegation leaders, stressed that "the view we hold is by no means an attack on the chairman." Bishop Abel Muzorewa went further, saying, "I think he could become a tremendous chairman." -

Reflected Richard afterward: "The first task I had to achieve was to try to put it over that they could trust me. I think we've got over that hump. I feel that Ian Smith feels exactly the same. If I can get the trust of the parties, then I can perform my real function, which is bridging." It is a function that Richard regards as essential for the success of the conference. "To be frank," he says, "what we'll be talking about around the table in the plenary sessions is less important than what's taking place quietly in my rooms in the Palais des Nations or in my hotel suite."

In personality if not in rank, just about everyone agrees, in fact, that Richard is far better suited for the chairmanship than the rather remote, moody and brittle Crosland. The son of a coal-mining engineer, Richard was born in South Wales, where he became a Labor supporter, as he puts it, "almost by the time I had learned to talk." He won a scholarship to Cheltenham, a leading private school, then went on to Oxford. He entered Parliament in 1964. When he lost his seat in 1974, Harold Wilson dispatched him to the U.N., where his quick repartee, enormous stamina and warmth of personality immediately made their mark. Says one former aide: "His method, which befits the good barrister he is, is to persuade rather than dictate." Adds a senior Foreign Office diplomat: "Had he become a member of the diplomatic service instead of a lawyer and politician, he would have risen to the top of the Foreign Office."

When at his U.N. job, Richard rises early and likes to play a little Chopin on the grand piano in his Fifth Avenue apartment, which he and his wife Alison redecorated with contemporary art. Although a prodigious worker ("At 2 a.m. he's still going strong," says one exhausted aide), he is a familiar figure at the bar in the delegates' lounge, quaffing huge amounts of beer.

A longtime advocate of decolonization in Africa and fair play for black and brown immigrants at home in Britain, Richard has been involved in African affairs as a minister in the defense department, later as opposition spokesman on Rhodesia and most recently at the U.N., where he got into a widely publicized conflict last year with his former American colleague Daniel Moynihan. Shocked by Moynihan's attacks on the Third World, Richard likened him to "Lear raging amidst the storm on the blasted heath" and "Savonarola in the role of an avenging angel preaching retribution and revenge." Says Richard amiably but unrepentantly: "I disagreed with him on how one should treat the U.N.--whether it is a serious body in which one could have a sensible dialogue with the Third World. Pat seemed to take a different view."

As for his job in Geneva, Richard frankly admits he hopes it will help him get back into the House of Commons. "If it goes well, obviously, some of the glitter is going to rub off," he says. "If it goes badly, presumably a fair amount of odium will rub off. That's just a fact of life." To the extent that his future depends on his success at the Rhodesian conference, what is good for Ivor Richard may very well be good for Britain.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.