The Anti-Apartheid Movement:

A 40-year Perspective

South Africa House, London

25-26 June 1999

Contents

Foreword

This report reproduces the papers presented at a Symposium held to mark the fortieth anniversary of the founding of the Anti-Apartheid Movement. They sparked a lively discussion about the AAM's role and impact, about the significance of its history and about how to ensure that its oral and written archives are collected and made widely available. The Symposium was attended by around 250 people, among them historians, teachers, publishers, diplomats, representatives of NGOS and individuals who worked both in the British and international anti-apartheid movement.

The AAM Archives Committee wishes to express its appreciation to the South African Commissioner and the staff of South Africa House for their support and assistance in organising the Symposium, and to Macmillan Publishers Ltd, Tribute Management Ltd and all those who made a financial contribution.

Thanks also to all those who helped compile the exhibition on the history of the AAM and the video 'If you tolerate this? Memories of the Anti-Apartheid Movement'.

Message from the President of South Africa to the AAM Archives Committee Symposium held at South Africa House, London, 25–26 June 1999

Who would have thought as a young student at Sussex that we were to make a history that now truly resonates throughout the world? These were such small beginnings, a few initial actions of committed people with a vision, combined with a great outrage at the injustices that racial division and oppression were meting out on our people and a refusal to sit back and believe that things had to be this way.

From our beloved Oliver Tambo, who literally sacrificed his whole life, to each British housewife, student, parent, who refused to buy South African oranges in supermarkets, we underscored the great lesson of our world today. Ordinary people, united in a vision of peace and a future of human beings working together to build a better world, have shown that we can make a difference to the quality of lives of millions.

I salute you all gathered here today, for the great inspiration and example of the Anti-Apartheid Movement. Now, when an unstable world more than ever needs to give voice to the aspirations and needs of ordinary people, I pay the highest tribute to the individuals involved in building and sustaining the AAM in Britain and elsewhere. On behalf of every South African, with all the goodwill and strength symbolised in my office, we salute the nobility and fundamental goodness of you who so clearly understood the indivisibility and interdependence of each human being.

Thabo Mbeki
Cape Town,
June 1999

 

Introduction

Shula Marks

On 26 June 1959, over five hundred people attended a meeting at the Holborn Hall, London in order to launch an economic boycott against South Africa. Speakers included Julius Nyerere, future President of Tanzania and long-time fighter against apartheid, K.Chiume, press secretary of the Nyasaland African Congress, Tennyson Makiwane and Vella Pillay of South Africa and the redoubtable Rev. Michael Scott; Trevor Huddleston was in the Chair. 'It was an enthusiastic meeting', recorded the July issue of the Transvaal Indian Congress Bulletin, 'and a good indication of the tremendous support for our struggle against apartheid.' 'The South African Government is fighting against history and they are bound to lose. We know that the liberation struggle will triumph in South Africa. If you have confidence then we are going to win!' declared Nyerere.*

Exactly 40 years later, on Friday 25 and Saturday 26 June 1999, the moment of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's birth was celebrated in a symposium and exhibition recording the highlights of its history. The welcome from the South African High Commissioner, Cheryl Carolus, who graciously hosted the event at South Africa House in Trafalgar Square, London, so long the scene of anti-apartheid demonstrations, was a potent symbol of the success of the liberation struggle in which the AAM played so notable a part.

The papers in this report bring together the recollections and reflections of participants in the AAM and contributions from academics, archivists and film-makers concerned with the history of the liberation struggle in South Africa and the anti-apartheid movement it inspired throughout the world. As Lord Hughes remarks in the pages that follow, there was no intention of providing a comprehensive history of the movement in all its ramifications, in the UK and internationally. On the Sunday following the Symposium a smaller round-table international consultation was held at the Institute of Commonwealth Studies, University of London, to discuss how to locate and make accessible the records of organisations who took part in the anti-apartheid struggle world-wide .

The collection captures only some of the spirit of excitement and enthusiasm of the weekend as old friends recalled their exploits and a new generation was stimulated to ask fresh questions about the wider meaning of a movement which entered the hearts and minds of so many people, and which was perhaps one of the first to insist successfully in international fora that human rights are more important than national sovereignty. Nevertheless it marks an important step in achieving the brief of the AAM Archive Committee – to encourage the preservation of the records of the movement, written and oral, in order to stimulate discussion and research on its role and impact and make them more accessible.

* I am very grateful to Mr E S Reddy for giving me a copy of this document at the Symposium.

Baroness Castle of Blackburn opened an exhibition on the history of the Anti-Apartheid Movement at the opening session of the Symposium.

I don't know why I should have been honoured in this way by being asked to open this exhibition; awhole stream of people have done far more than I have been able to do for the Anti-Apartheid Movement. I was President, but I was only able to stay in that post for a few years because in 1964 I became a member of Harold Wilson's government as Minister of Overseas Development and that meant giving up an official post with the Anti-Apartheid Movement. But I accept the honour with gratitude.

Like the rest of you, I am dazzled to be in South Africa House – and to know it's yours. All the 34years I was in the House of Commons I never set foot in the place except to spit at it from outside on the pavement. But as I was listening to the speeches and looking round, I thought 'There really is hope in the world'. Because we, an apparently powerless and relatively small band of people inside and outside South Africa, overthrew one of the most powerful regimes in the world. We are all grateful to Abdul Minty for telling us about those initial struggles. It seemed impossible – there were only a few of us. But all the little things we did added up.

I shall never forget the three weeks I spent in the bowels of the House of Commons with Abdul Minty in 1961. We were working out a black sash demonstration outside Lancaster House. Sharpeville and Langa's massacres had shocked the British public and as the newly appointed President of the Anti-Apartheid Movement I said to Abdul 'Come on, let's get South Africa out of the Commonwealth. She sullies it.' And so we worked out our scheme, based very much on the Black Sash Movement in South Africa, of a 48-hour silent vigil outside Lancaster House, unbroken night and day, to coincide with the Commonwealth Conference. It took some organising. Try working out a schedule of two hours each through the day and the night for people who were already busy. We got bishops, actors, authors, scriptwriters, a lot of MPs and we always had faithful people to fill any gaps. Although Abdul and I did find ourselves doing most of the night shift!

The remarkable thing was the discipline we managed to get into this succession of people. One journalist turned up at about 3 o'clock in the morning because he was sure there would be nobody there – but there we were. We used to stand, four of us, with our black sashes with 'Sharpeville, Langa' slashed across them. And the strict rule was – nobody's to speak a word. We had stewards ready to throw out anybody who tried to disrupt our demonstration. The satisfaction of watching those limousines roll up to Lancaster House with faces peering at us out of the windows as the diplomats and leaders went into that conference!

South Africa was going to dig its heels in. But the Canadian Prime Minister moved a motion, stirred up we hope and believe by our own action, that every Commonwealth country should agree to adopt a Bill of Rights. The next day South Africa resigned. It didn't seem possible, because, as Abdul has reminded us, there were strong economic interests in Britain not to upset South Africa. Macmillan didn't support a boycott, Macmillan didn't support expelling South Africa from the Commonwealth, despite his wind of change speech. But we managed to prick consciences with a hundred and one small activities that had a cumulative effect. You would go into a shop to buy oranges and you'd say 'Where are these from?' knowing that they were South African. 'Oh! South African, no thank you' walking out as though the shop stank. Then people did wonder whether there might be something in what we were demonstrating about.

I am proud that for 10 years, from 1979 to 1989, I was in the European Parliament and that although it was Conservative-dominated, with the Christian Democrats and British Tories, Igot through it a motion demanding the release of Nelson Mandela, carried unanimously. Ithought that something was moving, because the press conveyed the impression that the ANC was armed to the teeth, ready to massacre everybody. But there was oozing out from Robben Island a sort of aura of this imprisoned man. I remember the Leader of the Conservative Group, Sir Henry Plumb, saying, 'Yes Barbara we ought to carry this'. We all somehow knew by some spiritual transmission from him to the outer world, that there was a very remarkable man indeed.

I was honoured to meet Nelson Mandela when I was sent by the Sunday Pictorial to witness the Treason Trial. I saw them all, 162 of them; there was very little I could do about it except write a column about them. And there I met Nelson. He wasn't a flamboyant personality. He was rather quiet. But a sense of authority radiated from him, a sense of leadership. These men and women were on trial for their lives, but they all insisted on walking together through the entrance marked 'Non-Europeans Only'. The world began to realise that something was afoot, some new spirit would prevail. I loved their sense of humour. First the accused were herded together in a sort of wire cage. Their counsel had to come and talk to them through the wire. So one of them hung out a notice 'Danger Do Not Feed'. And the laughter and the defiance, the glory of it all, the beauty of the atmosphere in Trevor Huddleston's church in Sophiatown although he himself was no longer there. Everybody sang their hearts out and Father Jarrett-Kerr of the Community of the Resurrection took me to hear an African concert at which there was a wonderful performance on the penny whistle.

It's a great country that has fought a great battle. I think those of us that are here to celebrate the modest work we were able to do in the Anti-Apartheid Movement should never forget the sufferings of those who fought inside South Africa itself. I would like to think that I would have had the courage to do what they did. In opening this exhibition which tells the story of our support movement over here, I am sure we shall all remember them.

 

Introduction to the Symposium

Lord Hughes of Woodside

My role is to set out the background to our deliberations this evening and tomorrow and to explain what we hope we will be able to achieve.

This weekend five years ago, following South Africa's first democratic elections, or what is now called in South Africa the 'liberation election', the Anti-Apartheid Movement convened its first ever Extraordinary General Meeting. There was no provision in the constitution for such an event, but it was evident that urgent decisions were required about the future of the Movement. After much debate there was unanimous agreement that the AAM should be dissolved and that a successor organisation should be established. The following October ACTSA (Action for Southern Africa) was launched, and I am proud of the role it has been able to play in promoting solidarity with the new South Africa, and for Southern Africa as a whole.

A second decision was taken, of lesser significance, but still of importance, which explains why we are here this evening. This was the need to take steps to ensure that the archival material of the AAM was stored and catalogued. Although all of us involved with the AAM recognised the importance of this work, we really had no choice in the matter, because our President, Trevor Huddleston, was determined that the archives should be properly preserved. Indeed, as Dick Caborn often recalls, Trevor Huddleston was already starting to plan what should happen with the archives over a meal in Pretoria with Neil Kinnock and Abdul Minty on the eve of President Mandela's inauguration, As all of us who were privileged to work very closely with him were very well aware, although it might never appear in any archive, if he decided something needed to be done he would not rest,
nor would he let you rest, until it was done.

It was less of a secret that he was not a great admirer of Margaret Thatcher. One of his greatest criticisms of her was her lack of historical perspective, especially her complete ignorance of the history of South and Southern Africa. Trevor was her antithesis – he understood and appreciated the historical context in which the struggle developed in Southern Africa. It was therefore especially sad that Trevor died just a few days before the formal handover ceremony of the archives to the Rhodes House Library in Oxford
in April 1998.

So it was at the final meeting of the AAM Executive Committee in November 1995 that it was decided that a small Archives Committee should be established. It was originally proposed that this would simply be concerned with arranging the storage and cataloguing of the archives – and by then we had identified Rhodes House Library as the best venue for them. However, at the final meeting Brian Filling, if my memory is correct, argued that the committee needed a wider remit to promote the history of the campaign against apartheid and especially the part played by the AAM. This approach was adopted by the AAM Executive Committee and it has been this remit which has increasingly dominated our work in the Archives Committee. As you will hear tomorrow, we have begun to take initiatives to promote the AAM's history, of which this Symposium is the most important to date.

Why is this Symposium taking place? First and foremost because of the importance of the subject. The history of the Anti-Apartheid Movement is of intrinsic importance and it should be known, warts and all. We have no desire to sanitise the record. But the contribution of the Anti-Apartheid Movement should be understood and appreciated.

Secondly, because we have some clear aims which we hope to achieve as a result of our deliberations. These are:

Thirdly, because of the interest there is in the subject. This is reflected both by the attendance here this evening, and by the efforts which so many of the speakers and contributors have made to be able to join us in London.

Fourthly, if we are honest, there is an element of nostalgia. It is 40 years since the Boycott Movement was launched. Many of us here this evening have shared the highs and lows of the struggle together, and it is an occasion for us to come together again.

Finally, none of this would have been possible without the generosity of the South African High Commissioner. By agreeing to host the Symposium at South Africa House, she has made this entire initiative possible. We are deeply grateful to her and her colleagues on the High Commission staff.

What this Symposium neither claims to be, nor can be, is a comprehensive historical overview of the AAM. There is neither time nor the range of speakers to provide such an overview. Whatever we do will be simply to scratch the surface, but we hope this will begin to illuminate the subject and stimulate the research and study which is necessary to do justice to the AAM.

As we deliberate tomorrow, I would ask you to try and remember the climate in which so much of our campaigning was undertaken and just how entrenched was the hostility towards the ANC and the cause we espoused in the AAM. Mrs Thatcher is often quoted as an example – her 'cloud cuckoo land' remark sticks in the memory and the craw. I would like to remind you of the words of one of her predecessors. Long before the ANC had embarked on the armed struggle, this is what Winston Churchill had to say about the Defiance Campaign in 1952:

Nothing could be more helpful to Dr Malan in his approaching elections than the Indians and the Kaffirs forcing their way into compartments and waiting rooms reserved for whites. The overwhelming majority of the white population would be opposed to this intrusion. So what the communists and Indian intriguers are doing is really to help Malan. They must be very stupid not to see this.

I cannot count the number of times I heard similar sentiments being echoed either from the despatch box in the House of Commons or when we sent delegations to the Foreign Office. Any history of the Anti-Apartheid Movement, by implication, must also be a history of those who were complicit in sustaining apartheid.

It is however a tribute to all those involved in the Anti-Apartheid Movement that we have been able to assemble such a distinguished range of speakers at comparatively short notice. I am especially delighted that Peter Katjavivi and Abdul Minty are with us and that Kader Asmal will join us tomorrow. It is appropriate that we give an especially warm welcome to E S Reddy who in a few days time celebrates his 75th birthday. How many of us first joined a picket line to protest against South Africa's racial policies in 1946 as he did?

We do have some changes to our programme which I should alert you to. Unfortunately Ethel de Keyser has been taken ill in South Africa and will be unable to join us tomorrow. Jon Snow is flying out today to Kosovo and sends his regrets that he cannot be with us. Gus Macdonald, Minister of Trade and Industry – and the first editor of Anti-Apartheid News – will chair his session. And Brigitte Mbandla has been unable to come because of her ministerial responsibilities. We very much regret their absence but are confident that this will not detract from the success of the Symposium.

I look forward to our discussions with anticipation.

The Anti-Apartheid Movement – what kind of history?

Abdul Minty

This is a moving occasion and also a historic one, because it takes place on the same day as the opening of our Parliament. Our former Minister Alfred Nzo, our new Minister Nkosazana Zuma and Deputy Minister Aziz Pahad, who all joined us in many demonstrations here, have asked me to bring their warm greetings to you.

Today is not just the fortieth anniversary of the Anti-Apartheid Movement; it is the day we call Freedom Day on which the Congress of the People took place in 1955. It was a very deliberate decision to found the Anti-Apartheid Movement on June 26, South Africa Freedom Day, a day so significant for the freedom of the people of South Africa.

I have much to say and not enough time; so some of you who have been active much more than I have will perhaps say at the end of my speech 'Well, we didn't hear anything new'. This is one of the few times I have been in London without Trevor Huddleston. Trevor was a tough task-master. He would have wanted me to talk about South Africa today and mobilise people for South Africa and not to go into luxuries of history. It is unusual for me to be here without him and he is probably listening or watching somewhere, so I have to behave myself. I use that as an apology if I don't satisfy your expectations.

The Anti-Apartheid Movement was, in a way, a stand-alone organisation in Britain, a British anti-apartheid movement that managed to do other things. But if you look at its origins and its role, it was not a stand-alone organisation in the sense that it was inspired and formed as a result of a solemn appeal made on behalf of millions of oppressed people in South Africa by Chief Albert Lutuli, then President-General of the ANC, and other leaders. So it has this umbilical cord relationship with the struggle. The Movement was directly linked to the liberation struggle in Southern Africa and operated both in its proactive and its reactive role as an instrument of solidarity with the people of South Africa. But it was not just a British movement and so we did not have the word 'British' in its title. It was the Anti-Apartheid Movement and it acted as an agent of change which sought to influence policy at the OAU, the Commonwealth, the United Nations, as well as the International Olympic Committee and the then Imperial Cricket Conference.

The idea on which the Movement was based was very simple – the boycott call was essentially an appeal from the people of South Africa not to collaborate with apartheid. As Julius Nyerere said in 1959 'We are not asking you, the British people, for anything special. We are just asking you to withdraw your support from apartheid by not buying South African goods'. Father Huddleston, of course, was far more passionate at that founding meeting in demanding an end to collaboration with an evil ideology that amounted to a blasphemy against God. And there were others who used different bases for trying to mobilise people to support the boycott.

There were very many who opposed the call, on various grounds, including the claim that boycotts never work and that it would hurt most those whom it was intended to help. Overnight the apartheid regime and international business and other interests tried to transform themselves into those who cared most for the victims of apartheid. That was a certain reminder to us that we were doing a good job. The Boycott Movement obviously threatened very powerful vested interests and no analysis or history of the Anti-Apartheid Movement is complete without examining those forces that united to try to undermine and destroy it.

I recall how very soon after the announcement of the formation of the Boycott Movement the South Africa Foundation was set up with a capital of £260,000, a coalition of South African business who said that lies were being perpetrated about South Africa and that they would tell the truth. We had no budget, not even of five or ten shillings. The Movement's policy was to campaign for a sports, cultural, academic and economic boycott of apartheid South Africa. Though we were often described as a negative movement, we put a high priority on not only exposing the system of colonial and racial domination in South Africa, but on supporting the liberation struggle through humanitarian support programmes, including scholarships and the provision of legal defence and aid for political leaders and their families. Therefore the role of Canon Collins and the Defence and Aid Fund cannot be divorced from that of the Anti-Apartheid Movement simply because it functioned as a separate organisation. From the beginning to the end, we worked as close allies in the wider struggle.

Of course in the early days of the Movement the supporting role of Fenner Brockway's Movement for Colonial Freedom and the Committee of African Organisations was crucial for our work, as was the support we received later from the Labour movement, the Liberal Party, and prominent personalities such as Bertrand Russell and others. Another crucial factor was that the Movement developed from its inception a clear and effective strategy for its operational work and this became even more important when one takes into account the enormous international responsibility it undertook at the very outset with very meagre resources. If you now look at those documents and speeches you might think that this was an irresponsible and daring group of people who had no prospect whatsoever of achieving their objectives. Yes, we were idealistic and what we did not get in terms of support initially, we made up for in terms of sheer determination.

One must not forget that at that time Britain was the largest investor in South Africa, was its major trading partner and was the source of all its military equipment. There was the Simonstown Naval Agreement, together with sports, cultural and academic relations. This reflected an alliance between London and Pretoria. So we were not taking on any light task, as people did in countries which did not have as many links with South Africa. There was also the perennial kith and kin factor, which continually operated in our work. It is in this context that one has to understand the early victories of the Movement, spearheaded by its President, Barbara Castle, who together with Trevor Huddleston, provided outstanding leadership for the new movement. Of course, the strategy and operational priorities for the Movement evolved out of its close relationship with the liberation movement.

As is well known the Boycott Movement became the Anti-Apartheid Movement after the Sharpeville massacre of 21 March 1960. We realised that we needed a permanent organisation to work for the eradication of apartheid. The first major victory in the early 1960s was South Africa's exclusion from the Commonwealth, brought about by the joint action of Afro-Asian and Caribbean governments and British public opinion. At that time Barbara organised a 72-hour vigil of prominent personalities outside the Commonwealth Conference; people tried to suggest that we would not get prominent personalities for a 72-hour vigil, but we succeeded.

In 1962 I was sent to the Olympic Conference in Baden Baden to represent both the South African Sports Association and the Anti-Apartheid Movement. We succeeded in securing the exclusion of South Africa from Olympic sport. There were massive protests subsequently at sports matches in Britain and through public action we put an end to all major rugby, cricket and other tours. The Gleneagles Agreement came once this had all been achieved through public action. The major instrument of mobilisation was of course the consumer boycott, whereby individuals made a daily choice not to buy fruit and other products from South Africa.

Meanwhile the apartheid regime was building a firm alliance with Portugal and Rhodesia, resulting in the Anti-Apartheid Movement reorienting its strategy to counter the evolving unholy alliance against African freedom in Southern Africa. The Movement thereafter worked for an end to Portuguese colonialism in Africa, the end of UDI in Rhodesia as well as for the independence of Namibia. By 1963 Pretoria was well on the way in its march from a police to a garrison state and the Movement stepped up its campaign for an arms embargo, resulting in the adoption of the first resolutions on the subject by the United Nations Security Council in 1963–64. We had already suggested to the UN that it should set up a special General Assembly committee against apartheid, and with the formation of the OAU in 1963 the alliance between the Anti-Apartheid Movement and independent African states took on a special significance. The Movement had a unique advantage in that personal friendships were built with African leaders from British colonies who came to London for constitutional talks. The fact that Commonwealth summits took place in London until 1966, when they started circulating to other countries, also meant that we interacted closely with Commonwealth leaders and usually briefed them prior to the summit meetings. This allowed us to form close bonds with most Commonwealth leaders, as well as with the OAU and the United Nations.

Our relationship of trust and confidence was not simply built on the numbers of people that we could put out on the streets. It was built on the quality and reliability of our research and information, as well as the relevance of our political demands. And so we did not have to bridge a gap between the demands that the Anti-Apartheid Movement was putting forward, because they were the same as those of the African, Asian and Caribbean countries in the Commonwealth. Governments could rely on information provided by the Anti-Apartheid Movement and this gave us added authority and influence. Once again, we had to counter very powerful vested interests, but the combination of reliable information, appropriate policy and mass mobilisation of the public created a formidable force.

Despite set backs and difficulties we remained steadfast. Our major strength was, of course, that we were a grassroots movement that combined popular mobilisation with relevant policies and a high degree of legitimacy based on the fact that our inspiration and guidance came from the liberation movements. This is perhaps the central reason for our success, that our boycott and other campaigns were directly linked to the liberation struggle. It is in this sense that we were not a stand-alone organisation in Britain but operated in the context of the requirements and needs of the national liberation struggle. There were many crises and challenges and even this link often meant that we were threatened by people in Britain who would not support us, for example, if we continued to support the armed struggle. One of the biggest challenges we faced after Rhodesia's UDI in 1965 was to prevent a British sell-out to Ian Smith. The concentration on Rhodesia sometimes produced criticism within our ranks that we were neglecting both South Africa and Namibia.

The independence of the Portuguese colonies of Mozambique and Angola in 1975 transformed the geopolitical situation, resulting in Pretoria becoming even more aggressive, intervening in Angola and beginning its nuclear weapons programme. Thus at the historic 1977 UN–OAU Lagos conference, which was preceded by the first UN–OAU conference in Oslo in 1973, the United Nations suggested that the AAM should establish a World Campaign against Nuclear and Military Collaboration with South Africa, which resulted in an office being established in 1979 and in my move to Oslo.

This was the second World Campaign established by the Anti-Apartheid Movement. The first was in 1963 in response to the Rivonia trial, to demand the release of all political prisoners in South Africa. At that time we feared that Nelson Mandela and his colleagues faced the death penalty. The Anti-Apartheid Movement faced perhaps the greatest challenge of its whole existence because it had to mobilise the world to stop that. I have vivid memories of Oliver Tambo and Robert Resha calling us at all hours, at 4o'clock in the morning, for a meeting at 5 o'clock, in order to mobilise action, or because Oliver Tambo had arrived in London and had only a few hours to give us our marching orders as to what we needed to do. That was a time when the World Campaign managed to send delegations to President de Gaulle, the Pope and other world leaders who were not reached by the Anti-Apartheid Movement. Researchers will perhaps study to what extend those campaigns helped to save the lives of our leaders. Strange as it may seem, when they were sentenced to life imprisonment, we rejoiced because we felt that we had saved their lives.

You will notice that I speak of 'our leaders', when I was in fact the Honorary Secretary of the British Anti-Apartheid Movement, living in Britain and elected to that post by British people. Here I should point out another unique feature of the Anti-Apartheid Movement, namely the tolerance and generosity of the British people in allowing South African exiles to play a leading role in various organisations to help free their country. Acting in partnership with the British people we were able to build this powerful movement. Of course, South Africans may have provided a special dimension to the work of the Anti-Apartheid Movement. But there were also those activists in Britain who resented the leadership role of South Africans in what they considered to be an essentially British movement.

There is one area that is likely to be very difficult to analyse and assess for researchers, and that is the relationship between the Anti-Apartheid Movement and the racial situation in Britain. Was it right to remain a single issue movement, or should we have campaigned against racial discrimination in Britain? We had tense and difficult discussions that could have ripped the Movement apart. However, we contained and managed that. Questions will arise about the paradox that with an ever-growing Anti-Apartheid Movement there was simultaneously in this country an increase in racial polarisation. There is also the more sensitive and difficult question about whether there was ever a degree of racism experienced within the broad anti-apartheid movement by persons with dark skins. It is perhaps still too early to make some of these assessments. However, I can say through personal experience that during the height of Powellism in Britain, many victims of racism in Britain coming from all corners of the Commonwealth, drew courage and inspiration from the major anti-apartheid protests, including the massive sports and other demonstrations, because they saw British people taking a stand against racism. It was very difficult to mobilise mass demonstrations like that on the question of racism itself. Historians will therefore have to assess the nature and extent of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's impact on the domestic racial situation in Britain.

Unlike many other organisations, the Movement never sought or received major financial contributions from governments for its normal work. I remember with Bob Hughes, Mike Terry and others the arguments we had when we were in financial crisis and how we considered whether we should appeal to one government or another to give us a major amount. But we never asked for that. This meant, as Vella Pillay used to say, that the Movement had always to be relevant in its work, because we went to ordinary people to ask them for their one, two or five pounds. If we had not been doing work that was relevant, they would not have given us that money. This saved the Movement from the inevitable pressures and influence that usually emanate from donors and probably enabled us to develop a special type of integrity.

No doubt researchers will discuss the influence and importance of the Anti-Apartheid Movement for the liberation struggles in Southern Africa. There will be some conventional narrow researchers who will be centred on the traditional Northern type of research who will not see the direct impact of the Movement and will not understand the complex relationship that developed between the two struggles in terms of international policy in relation to Southern Africa. They may perhaps judge that we were simply mobilising thousands of noisy people who made a noise now and then, but really made no impact.

I am certain that there will be research of that kind from those who are cloistered in academic centres. Others, including activists like us, may exaggerate the Movement's influence and importance. There will also be those who will romanticise the Movement
so that none of its problems and difficulties are considered. I have even seen accounts of movements in other countries recently which, through careful selection of material, exclude vital information so as to make the final product one of self adulation. I hope that the British Anti-Apartheid Movement will not do this.

And here I have to say something that is extremely painful. This relates to the recent biographical work on Trevor Huddleston, where the author seems to have been in such a great hurry that it is full of errors and untruths, so as actually to destroy much of the work of the Movement and of Trevor Huddleston. So what I would plead for is that whoever does research is not hurried to go for a particular publication date, but that extreme care should be taken to do correct research. It is important that truth does not become an early and easy casualty in the process of building the records of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's history. In a sense we are too close to our history to make mature analyses and judgements.

On the other hand, we need to preserve the archival material whilst we can still collect the documentation and record the oral history from the actors who are still alive. There are many events, some of profound significance, that are not recorded in any word on paper or tape. These events do not appear in written or other reports. They are in the memories of people and these need to be recorded.

It is of course important for Britain that the history of the Anti-Apartheid Movement should be archived, but it is probably even more important for the people of Southern Africa and the developing world to have access to those archives and to understand their history. For us in South Africa, people sometimes forget that this history is part of our national heritage. For a people who for generations have been denied their own history, as well as the history of solidarity with their struggle, the history of the Anti-Apartheid Movement takes on a profound importance. This is why one needs to exercise additional care in compiling it.

Virtually all our visitors to South Africa today from all parts of the globe say that they all equally and strongly supported the anti-apartheid struggle. Sometimes I wonder why it took us so long to become free when the whole world seemed to have been with us all the time. Imagine then the confusion of the millions of our people who have never been out of the country, and who have had to live through the censorship and banning of publications. It is therefore important that the history is recorded truthfully and archival material is available not only to the people of Southern Africa, but to the people of Africa.

There is no doubt that the world-wide movement was effective because it was a coalition of committed governments and people's movements in the West which managed to influence policy at national level, as well as at institutions like the UN. We used to say that the degree of unarmed pressure mobilised against apartheid would determine the degree of armed pressure that would be necessary to end it. How then do we analyse that era? In the end it was a success primarily of the liberation struggle reinforced by the world-wide anti-apartheid movement that led to the dismantling of the apartheid system without a major racial conflagration. Was this a major achievement? Who takes the credit? How do we balance that credit? How can we assess the role of the Anti-Apartheid Movement? How are we to assess the role of its Presidents Barbara Castle, David Steel, Bishop Reeves, Trevor Huddleston? How are we to assess the roles of those in leadership like David Ennals, Vella Pillay, Bob Hughes and also the devoted work of people like Ros Ainslie, Dorothy Robinson, Ethel de Keyser, Mike Terry and so many others that I have not mentioned? Will the researchers recognise the central role of Ronald Segal and Ruth First in organising the 1964 sanctions conference in London and the subsequent international conference on Namibia in Oxford, chaired by Olaf Palme, which called for the termination of South Africa's mandate by the UN? Will people also see the tremendous impact on the liberation struggle of the murder of Ruth First who, though living in Africa, was in touch with us in Europe, and followed in a global context the kind of strategy that we needed to devise to counteract the menace of apartheid. There were these coalitions across continents and seas that interacted by telephone and at conferences where we spoke late at night in order to work out what we had to do.

Will those who record history recognise the central and quite unique role of Enuga Reddy who, with such genius, utilised the bureaucracy of the United Nations to ensure that it became a true servant of its Charter in upholding human rights and working to prevent a threat to world peace? If it had not been for his personal dedication, even if you had put 20 or 50 people at desks at the United Nations, it would not have triggered the resources and the direction of the UN machinery.

Above all, will the researchers understand the Movement's unique working relationship with the ANC, and especially the leadership and the inspirational role of Oliver Tambo who came to Europe in 1960 and who helped to nurture and defend the Anti-Apartheid Movement? How will historians capture the development of the Movement from 40 years ago, when small pickets outside South Africa House stood in tens and twenties, developing into major demonstrations, culminating in the Mandela marches involving hundreds of thousands of people, and the two Wembley concerts? How will they capture the dynamism of the Anti-Apartheid Movement as it grew to be the largest protest movement in Britain?

High Commissioner, we are now in your South Africa House. Forty years ago Vella and others inflicted an evil punishment on me. On the eve of the launch of the boycott they decided with great firmness and overwhelming intellectual argument that we had to have a 24-hour vigil outside South Africa House. I was not a very important person then, simply Membership Secretary, and I said 'Maybe not 24 hours'. But others insisted. South Africa House happens to be within one mile of Parliament. You were not allowed to demonstrate within one mile of Parliament, so we had to keep walking. And since, at that time, the British police allowed the Empire Loyalists to have pride of place, we had to walk in the gutter. So 20 or 30 of us assembled to march in the gutter around South Africa House. It went very well, the press came, one or two photographs were taken. We marched around until 11 o'clock and eventually, without looking at my watch, I found I was the only one left. What should I do? The hours passed. There were many people walking around London throughout the night, which surprised me. At around 7.30 in the morning Joan Hymans arrived with a flask of coffee. She was going to work at the BBC. I said 'Please call some people, I just cannot walk any more.' By 8.30 two or three people arrived.

I went down to Clapham, changed and came back in two hours. At that point a very large gentleman – white and angry – came out of South Africa House. He came towards me and said 'Why don't you go back to India where you all die like fleas?' We walked around until I picked a strategic point, just outside the entrance. Then I told this gentleman in Afrikaans 'I come from South Africa'. He tried to seize me across the barrier. A bus came by so he had to move back and the police realised what was happening. Two ladies from across the street ran over and said 'We are very sorry. There are very few of us like that in Britain.' We had many incidents like that.

Later, during the Rivonia trial, we managed to find two sympathetic diplomatic missions on the other side of Trafalgar Square. Technology had progressed to the point where you could project pictures with light. So, after dark, we projected a photograph of Nelson Mandela onto the wall of South Africa House. This, High Commissioner, resulted in the lovely lights you have that still beam on the walls of South Africa House. Maybe, with the budget cuts we now have in Pretoria, we will send you instructions to switch those lights off. There was also a man at my college, a mountaineer, who came to Trafalgar Square and decided to throw his mountaineering gear right up to Nelson's Column and climb to the top and unfurl a message from one Nelson to another. There are many such stories which will not be recorded in the written material.

I want to conclude by saying that all the terrorists are now within South Africa and inside South Africa House. We have Nelson Mandela, terrorist number one, now acclaimed as one of the world's greatest diplomats and statesmen. People like Cheryl, once hated in South Africa and elsewhere for her role in the ANC, whom we now have to call High Commissioner.

In 1961 Chief Lutuli won the Nobel Prize for Peace. In writing a history of this struggle we need to ask other questions. If the world had acted on his appeal for a boycott of South Africa, even by 20 per cent, in 1961, what kind of South Africa, and indeed Africa, would we be seeing now? There followed decades of waste, the sheer waste of people like Nelson Mandela and others in prison, when they could have been doing so much. And so another difficult question that we will have to ask is: how was it possible that some of the greatest Western democracies found it easy to collaborate with one of the greatest racial tyrannies since Nazi Germany? The responsibility of the researchers and others is very great; if they undertake it as a solemn responsibility they will be able to do justice to those who gave up their lives in the struggle against apartheid and fulfil their responsibility to the next generation who have so much to learn from it.

 

British and international relations with Southern Africa (1959–1994)

Chair's introduction by Vella Pillay

As indicated by Bob Hughes yesterday evening this Symposium and Exhibition seek to provide a broad 40-year perspective on the work of the British Anti-Apartheid Movement.

Such a perspective is obviously necessary. It serves to give recognition to the uniqueness of the Movement in view of its sustained campaigns of international solidarity and support for the cause of anti-colonialism and the liberation of the Southern African peoples from racial and national oppression.

Its impact on international relations and the policies of the great powers was reflected in the emergence of anti-apartheid campaigning organisations in Europe, North America and almost all the countries of the Commonwealth, and secondly, and more critically, in the fashioning of a comprehensive structure of sanctions and the boycott of apartheid South Africa. Already, early in the 1960s, the Movement participated in parallel campaigns of support for the anti-colonial movements of what today are the independent nations of Namibia, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Malawi, Mozambique and Angola. This was manifest in the work of the Movement to expose what we termed at the time as the 'unholy alliance' of Portugal, South Africa and the Rhodesian Federation.

By the time the 1963 session of the UN General Assembly convened, some 46 countries had formally severed all trade, political and other relations with South Africa and had closed their airports, airspace and sea ports to South African aircraft and vessels. Another 21 countries had publicly declared that they either had not maintained or had ended their trade and other relations with South Africa. So over half the countries of the world had moved in the direction of sanctions of various forms against the apartheid regime. The central dynamic behind this achievement was the various formations of the anti-apartheid movement at the international level and the gathering crisis within South Africa as a result of the popular struggle. The international sanctions conference convened by Ronald Segal in 1964 was a milestone in the evolution of the sanctions-based strategy which was to play such a decisive role in the formation of international policy towards South Africa.

The campaign for the expulsion of South Africa from the Commonwealth was central to our attempt to bring about a decisive shift in British policy. That task proved much the most difficult and complex of our aims, despite our successes in areas such as the sports boycott, the ending of cultural and educational exchanges and other similar links with South Africa. Successive British governments, and this includes the Labour governments, proved to be by far the most determined defenders of the apartheid regime, thwarting every initiative from us and the Commonwealth countries and the United Nations. As Patrick Dean, the British representative at the UN, put it at the time: 'We have long historical connections, ties of kith and kin and a deep concern for the alignment of South Africa'. This racist position reached its highest manifestation in the years of the Thatcher government.

The late 1970s were marked by an accelerating crisis in South Africa leading to the recommendations of the Wiehahn and Riekert Commissions which aimed at creating a stable black labour force in the urban areas and the consignment of the rest of the black population to the derelict homelands. This opened a period of labour strikes, States of Emergency and the beginnings of the domestic struggle to render the country ungovernable.

Donald Anderson, Labour's front-bench spokesman, now pledged the Party to 'work to isolate South Africa internationally and promote effective action to hasten fundamental political change'. At the Labour Party Conference a motion calling for sanctions was carried unanimously. Significant as the shifts in Labour policy were, it was evident that these were the result of pressures mounted by the Anti-Apartheid Movement, with its extensive support base in the Labour and trade union movement, the churches and the student unions. The South African question had become a significant, if not a major, issue in Britain's domestic politics, as it had become in Commonwealth relations, at the UN and more generally in international relations. South Africa was now widely seen as a threat to international peace – a matter which the UN Special Committee on Apartheid had examined in a number of major reports and on which it had played a distinctive role in mobilising international opinion within the UNsystem. We are particularly happy that my friend Enuga Reddy, the Secretary of the UN Special Committee and former Assistant UNSecretary General, is with us today.

This is the context of the gyrations in the policies of Britain's Conservative governments in the 1980s. Mrs Thatcher remained as hard as ever she could be – no sanctions even at the cost of a break-up of the Commonwealth. In 1964 she invited the South African, Prime Minister, PW Botha, to Chequers. The meeting could not be held in London – all the roads to Downing Street were blocked by the biggest demonstration in London for many years. There followed Mrs Thatcher's efforts at consorting with Chief Buthelezi and Helen Suzman in a forlorn hope of defusing the pressures for sanctions. At the Nassau meeting of Commonwealth leaders in October 1985 a wider set of sanctions measures were formally agreed, including an end to loans to the South African government, the ending of government funding of trade missions to South Africa and a ban on the import of Krugerrands. However, the British government delayed the introduction of the measures and then implemented them only very partially. Wherever Britain's writ ran large, as in Bermuda, the British government proved efficient in stopping the adoption of anti-apartheid policies. In the meantime, the South African police and armed forces continued to receive British computer equipment and substantial military and in particular naval intelligence. The international ban on the sale of nuclear technology and materials was flouted, as was the ban on the supply of oil.

It is my judgement that what broke the back of the apartheid regime, within the context of the ungovernability campaigns of the youth in the townships, was the refusal of the international banks to renew South Africa's bank loans so that it could no longer raise funds abroad. This was an area in which I was, on behalf of the Anti-Apartheid Movement, closely involved. My frequent visits to the United States in 1985, my meetings with the international banks in New York and the IMF in Washington, and more importantly with black American pressure groups – all this, I believe, played a role in the refusal of the UN commercial banks to renew expiring loans to South Africa.

The State of Emergency which was declared in mid-1985 in South Africa was a further catalyst in this regard. Led by Chase Manhattan, the New York banking community refused to roll over the expiring loans to South Africa. With the de facto freeze of real investments from abroad, this development proved decisive in the sense that it led to a collapsing domestic economy, accompanied by sharp falls on the South African Stock Exchange and the heavy depreciation of the Rand. South Africa was forced to renege on repayments of its expiring loans and sought a three-year period of grace for repaying its outstanding international debts. The three-year moratorium was provided at a heavy cost, leading to a further deterioration in domestic economic stability. With the falling gold price, the financial crisis became overwhelming, leading the then President P W Botha to fly to Zurich to plead for fresh loans and later to visit London for a similar purpose. The failure of those visits proved to be a critical aspect of the process which led to the resignation of Botha and the opening of contacts with the ANC.

In my judgement that was a central factor in what I believe to have been a critical force in support of the South African people in their struggle for liberation.

'Half-ally, half-untouchable at the same time':
Britain and South Africa since 1959

Shula Marks

I have been asked to outline the context within which the Anti-Apartheid Movement operated in Britain between 1959 when it was founded and 1994 when South Africa was transformed, and this will form the main burden of what I have to say, although I am sure that story will be familiar to many of you present as part of your common past.

Before doing so, however, I want to say something briefly about the importance of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's archives project and indeed of history itself – perhaps something we do not need to say too much about here today for you are clearly here to participate in a celebration of history, but surely needed for a wider public both in South Africa and here which has found it only too convenient to forget the double standards and double-speak of British policy towards South Africa in the past: when, as Anthony Sampson has put it in the prologue to his new biography of Nelson Mandela, 'all recriminations are drowned in a fanfare of trumpets'. The double-speak suggested by the words of my title is taken from the final report sent by the British High Commissioner in South Africa, Sir John Maud, to Alec Douglas-Home, then Foreign Secretary, in 1963: 'half-ally, half-untouchable at the same time'.1

There is much irony in the contemporary historical amnesia. And in the end, of course, such collective amnesia is impossible. There is after all no society that does not have such a sense of its history. Nor is this surprising. History is our collective memory and as the renowned biologist, Professor Steven Rose, who himself works on the neurological base of memory, has remarked '. . . memory is the feature that defines every single one of us as an individual. We can contemplate losing a limb, or a sense, or even have a heart or a kidney transplant and still retain a conviction, albeit modified, of our own personhood. Imagine losing memory – or of having a memory transplant ΰ la Manchurian Candidate, and the difference is immediate and apparent, We are our memories . . . '2 Of course, Steven Rose was talking of individual memory which is not the same thing as History, unless it is made public – heard, seen, interpreted. It is in this sense inescapable.

Yet the reaction is perhaps not wholly reprehensible, for history has long been a battle-ground in South Africa: ten years ago I gave a lecture on South African history-writing in which I remarked that 'in a society as deeply divided as South Africa, it is doubtful whether even the most conservative historian could harbour the illusion that history is somehow a set of neutrally observed and politely agreed upon facts. For all the contestants in contemporary South Africa there is a quite conscious struggle to control the past in order to legitimate the present and lay claim to the future.' In the moment of reconciliation, then, it is perhaps understandable that people wish to forget the past, to move beyond it, to let bygones be bygones. To quote Senator George Mitchell on Northern Ireland: 'If the focus remains on the past, the past will become the future and that is something no one can desire.'3

This is particularly true in South Africa, where in the past history could at times be quite literally a matter of life and death. Interestingly enough, Professor Rose adds, 'forgetting is [also] functional', and tells the story of the man who was driven mad by his incapacity to forget. 'To remember all the data which passes through one's senses every day would be impossible; your memory would become a “garbage disposal”.' Inevitably history is selective, for crucially it is about meaning and not simply information.

Nevertheless, however politically expedient it may be to try to look to the challenges of the future rather than to dwell interminably on the wrongs of the past, history is not so easily forgotten; letting bygones be bygones is not so easily achieved, and this is of particular moment as South Africa tries to come to terms with the report of its Truth and Reconciliation Commission. True reconciliation cannot be based upon ignorance of the past. History may be dangerous and divisive; I believe that ignorance is even more divisive and even more dangerous.

Many of the issues confronting the government in South Africa, many of the social changes which have taken place, that are taking place and that need to take place, can only be understood if we fully grasp the awful legacies – and they are awful, onerous and complex – of nearly half a century of apartheid, and the far longer record of colonialism.

To understand where we are going, we need to understand where we have come from. In part this celebration of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's forty years is a coming to terms with part of that past and the contribution made by the outside world to the awesome struggles and sacrifices made by those who opposed apartheid from within. We do not approach this in any sense of triumphalism. While we celebrate the forty years, history can never – if it is to be worthy of study – be simply celebratory.

Nor is there any claim that it was only the Anti-Apartheid Movement in its capitalised form – the AAM – which made this contribution: indeed the history of the AAM has to be put into the far wider trajectory of the many-stranded struggles against imperialism and racism not only from within South Africa, not only internationally, but also from within this country itself.

And while the main burden of what I shall go on to say will relate to the international order the Anti-Apartheid Movement confronted in the past forty years, we should recognise that these struggles go back at least to the anti-slavery campaigns of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, when, for example, Elizabeth Heyrick, a member of the Birmingham Female Society, called for the boycott of Caribbean sugar and cotton in 1824 as 'the Shortest, Safest, and Most Effectual Means of Getting Rid of West Indian Slavery' against the gradualism of the reformists. According to Vron Ware, Heyrick followed this up by

personally carrying on a door-to-door survey of households in her home town of Leicester, finding support for the idea . . . [The power of women] as consumers and housekeepers gave them a vital role in implementing tactics, however symbolic, which helped to arouse public feeling all over the country. . . . 4

There was also a dialogue, I think, between those nineteenth-century anti-slavery and later anti-racist activists which Abdul reminded us of last night when he talked of the way in which it was a response to a call from South Africa from Lutuli to engage in boycott that led to the beginnings of the Movement. Thus in the nineteenth century there were links between the old anti-slavery activists and later anti-racist organisations – I think here, for example, of the Quaker, Catherine Impey, who formed an organisation in 1893 with the well-known black American Ida B Wells, who visited the UK to campaign against lynching in the USA, called The Society for the Recognition of the Universal Brotherhood of Man, which

declared itself fundamentally opposed to the system of race separation by which despised members of a community are cut off from the social, civil and religious life of their fellow man.5

I cite these examples, widely divided although they are, and far away from South Africa though they may be, because I think they help account for the ways in which the Anti-Apartheid Movement resonated with a vital thread in British popular culture which is only too easily portrayed as intrinsically and monolithically racist.

The soil was tilled in more obvious ways: at this moment of remembering the Anti- Apartheid Movement we should not forget all the other organisations, some of which pre-dated it and which complemented its work. I am thinking here of Fenner Brockway's Movement for Colonial Freedom, of Michael Scott's Africa Bureau and the invaluable precedent he set in appealing to the United Nations on behalf of the rights of Namibians, of Canon Collins's Christian Action and the Treason Trial Defence Fund which later became Defence and Aid. There is no time here to detail the enormous contribution each of these made to the cause. But any full account of the AAM in its uncapitalized form of the anti-apartheid movement in this country would have to take their full measure. Nelson Mandela himself made the connections in his wonderful Westminster Hall speech in July 1996: he had come, he said, 'to the country of allies like William Wilberforce, Fenner Brockway, Archbishop Trevor Huddleston'. These are the names of the big men of the movement, but I think that there is also a story about the ordinary people who made history in their day-to-day actions and in their day-to-day resistance to racism in this country. I think that at this time when people find it more and more difficult to identify politically, it is those actions of ordinary people that are extremely important for us to understand and to grasp. This is in many ways one of the most important aspects of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's struggles in this country.

It was the slow change in public opinion as a result of the endeavours of all these organisations, but perhaps especially after 1960 the campaigns of the Anti-Apartheid Movement, which led to the at least half-victory implied in Sir John Maud's formulation and that explain why, by the 1960s, Britain's policies were split between the two irreconcilable tendencies embodied in Maud's words. To understand this we need to remember how entrenched pro-South African feeling was in this country, and how racist some of the feeling was, particularly in the 1950s. Underpinning this was the position of South Africa in the British Empire and Commonwealth in the first half of the twentieth century, and the dominant role South Africa has played in British calculations about Southern Africa for much of the century.

In many ways, the Union, later the Republic, of South Africa has occupied a unique position in British imperial strategy and the British imperial imagination. One needs no conspiracy theory to see the inter-connected networks of city, empire, and academe which gave South Africa its importance to the advocates of Empire and Commonwealth at least until 1945. And at least until 1948 the Union of South Africa was a tried and trusted British ally, and if there were some humanitarian misgivings about the direction of South Africa's 'native policy' it was hardly sufficiently out of line with British notions of paternalist trusteeship to rock Britain's 'special relationship' with South Africa, 'flowing', as Sir Alec Douglas Home put it, 'from . . . historic ties and the existence of a population of British speech, descent and in some cases nationality'.6

In the first half of the century, Britain pursued her 'national interest', unremarkably so, and with little overt tension.7 Lord Milner's dictum in 1899 dividing the African north from a settler south in which 'One thing is quite evident. The ultimate end is a self-governing white Community, supported by well-treated and justly governed black labour from Cape Town to Zambesi . . .'8 remained largely unquestioned.

World War Two marked a decisive shift. The war itself did much to shake imperial rule, as Britain emerged from the conflict much weaker, and as the new world powers, the USA and the Soviet Union, began to seek allies among Afro-Asian nations who were achieving independence and finding a seat in the United Nations. The discrediting of racist ideas in Europe after the war and the beginnings of decolonization led to swelling international opprobrium against South Africa; its explicitly racialized agenda was increasingly seen as an outrage to the new moral order. Even before Britain's war-time ally, General Smuts, had lost power, the Union's treatment of its Indian minority and its attempts to incorporate South West Africa, were censured by the United Nations Smuts had helped found, and whose Human Rights Charter he had actually inspired.

By 1960, and especially after the massacre at Sharpeville, South Africa's declaration of a Republic and her withdrawal from the Commonwealth, opposition to apartheid mounted. In this the AAM played an important role, especially in its call for an economic boycott and arms embargo. By 1963 Sir Alec Douglas Home informed the new British Ambassador to South Africa that he would be arriving in Cape Town 'on the eve of what might well be the most difficult phase of Anglo-South African relations since the creation of the Union 53 years ago'.9

For British policy-makers, however, international unpopularity had always to be weighed against what were regarded as Britain's key interests. When, for example, in 1961 the hostility to apartheid of African and Asian member-states forced South Africa to withdraw from the Commonwealth, it is notable that it lost none of the economic advantages of membership and remained within the sterling area until the latter's collapse in 1972–73.

While successive British governments deplored the Republic's racial policies, Britain refrained from action, mindful of South Africa's economic importance to Britain, and to a lesser extent its strategic significance, both in relation to the British naval base at Simonstown, and to the fate of what were known as the British High Commission territories of Lesotho, Botswana, and Swaziland. It is worth reminding ourselves of the extent of that economic stake in the early 1960s: investments worth over £900 million and an annual volume of export trade of £250 million including 'invisibles'.

Concern that international sanctions against South Africa could be turned against Britain's own handling of Rhodesia was another factor in the government's reluctance to underwrite sanctions. What is manifest in the FCO documents in the 1960s is the acute awareness officials had of the contradiction at the heart of British policy on the one hand and their determination to act as a drag on international sanctions on the other. Here a document from John Killick, the British Ambassador in Washington is, I think, most revealing. British policy, he wrote, 'is not so much confused as irreconcilable'. While wishing 'to buy ourselves as good an “image” as possible at the UN and in the British Parliament' at the same time Britain had to preserve 'our important economic and commercial interests and our somewhat less important military interests in South Africa'. Not for him any moral arguments: what he was interested in were its 'purely factual aspects.'

Not only was the South African question 'if it is soluble at all . . . not soluble by us or other outsiders'. According to Killick, expressing a view which was not necessarily accepted by other civil servants, let alone politicians, 'we should not even concern ourselves with solving it but only with our own two irreconcilable interests'. From this 'purely factual' point of view, there were, he thought, three possibilities. Britain could give its 'full support to UN coercive measures'; it could stand firm against the UN up to and including the veto of resolutions and attempt to counter the punitive measures which might then be adopted by Afro-Asian countries against the UK – which he thought an unacceptable solution; or we could, he argued, 'cheat'. What this meant was

to abstain or even vote for some sort of UN sanctions resolution, using the price of our vote, of course, to keep it down to the minimum coercive measures. But to couple our vote with a long and complicated explanation of [the] vote amounting to setting forth pre-conditions for our implementation. . . . I imagine we could confidently assume that something would [then] arise . . . which would enable us to evade doing anything in practice. Alternatively we could try to insist that all these problems be properly studied and worked out before the passage of any resolution in the Council, in some special committee which must include representatives of the major trading, shipping and naval countries. There is surely good reason to rub the noses of the UN in the detailed practical problems arising from the use of sanctions. I doubt if we should expect to get away with such obvious delaying tactics for long but they would provide us with even better justification for a statement of conditions attaching to our vote. And heaven knows how, in playing things this way, we could hope that the South Africans would refrain from damaging our interests in and with the Republic meanwhile. . . . 10

Not all British policy makers were perhaps as cynical; certainly not all would have written as frankly. There can be little doubt, however, that regardless of the party in power, a not dissimilar real politik informed British policy towards South Africa. There may have been differences of degree between policy when the Labour Party was in government from when the Tories were in government, but both shared the same ambivalence towards South Africa. There was a fundamental contradiction at the heart of British policy. On the one hand, the government was concerned to protect what were seen as vital economic and strategic interests; on the other it was anxious not to alienate black opinion in Africa completely, and aware that it should cultivate black allies within the Republic in the recognition in the 1960s at least that they might one day form its government. It was crucial therefore that Britain should not give the impression of having any sympathy with policies of apartheid. The fear that the South African government's 'misguided practice of attacking liberal ideas in the name of anti-Communism, so identifying the two and making Communism look more respectable' in South Africa, and in the rest of Africa, was another British, indeed, Western, concern. With Margaret Thatcher, of course, anti-communism became even more of a crusade, while her notion of political insurance was to back the 'moderate' Chief Mangosutho Buthelezi: as she declared with typical forthrightness in 1987, anyone who thought the ANC was ever going to form the government of South Africa 'was living in cloud cuckoo land'.

Yet even when British governments were at their most hostile to apartheid – as during the Wilson and Callaghan Labour governments of the 1960s and 1970s – politicians were always stronger on the rhetoric of opposing apartheid when they were out of government than actually doing anything about it when they were in power. Wilson, it is true, declared an embargo on the arms trade – though he rapidly found that his hands were tied in relation to contracts made by the previous government, while the rapidly unravelling situation resulting from UDI in Rhodesia turned his attentions elsewhere. Like the Conservatives before and after, Labour governments 'faced the fact' that they could not 'go beyond a certain point without risk of grave damage' to what Sir Alec Douglas Home coyly called Britain's 'special interests.'11

This meant that in Britain, unlike in the Scandinavian countries where government assistance to the anti-apartheid struggle was generally far more direct and material, or even in the United States where the vested interests were far less strong and internal domestic politics dictated a very different strategy, the Anti-Apartheid Movement was, and indeed had to be, a 'people's movement'. Here the action and the impetus for action came from below, drawing, as I have already suggested, on a deep vein of anti-racist and anti-imperial protest. That this also had its tensions and contradictions and ambiguities is undoubtedly true, as it is true of any broad political movement; but it is in the hope of capturing these, and weaving together the very many different, and at times dissident, stories that make up the tapestry of the Anti-Apartheid Movement's past, and which are to be found as much in oral testimony as in written documents, that this Symposium has, I think, been conceived.

NOTES

  1. Cabinet papers CAB 129/114 John Maud, Final Report to Lord Home, Pretoria 14 May 1963. For this and the other citations to records in the Public Records Office I am grateful to Dr James Sanders, who gave me access to the photocopies he made in Kew.
  2. Darwin Lecture, Cambridge, March 1996. I am grateful to Professor Rose for the text of his lecture.
  3. Cited by Gerry Adams in the Guardian, 12 February 1999.
  4. Vron Ware, Beyond the Pale, White Women, Racism and Slavery. (Verso, 1992), pp. 71–2.
  5. Ibid., p. 175.
  6. Confidential Print, CAB 129/114 Foreign Office, 12 June 1963.
  7. Martin Channock, Unconsummated Union. Britain, Rhodesia and South Africa 1900–1945. (Manchester, 1977), p. 1.
  8. Milner to Percy Fitzpatrick, 28 November 1899. In Cecil Headlam (ed.), The Milner Papers (South Africa) 1899–1905. (London, 1933), vol. II, pp. 35–6.
  9. Confidential Print, CAB 129/114 Foreign Office, 12 June 1963.
  10. FO 371/177065 John Killick, British Embassy, Washington to John Wilson FCO 26-4-64.
  11. Home, CAB 129/114.

 

South Africa: beyond the miracle

Cheryl Carolus

I want to start by saying 'Amandla' – because the very fact that I and others are in the positions which we hold today is because the power to change things belongs to the people and continues to belong to the people. We are here because of people's power in South Africa, and people's power throughout the world, which challenged the mighty edifice of apartheid.

I would also like to acknowledge the role played by Shula Marks who has made a presentation and chaired sessions here today, and who was the chairperson of the committee that organised this event. Thank you, Shula, for bringing us all together.

I have called my talk 'South Africa: Beyond the Miracle'. I chose this topic because often today people talk about South Africa as a miracle, especially those of us who have just been to South Africa and taken part in our second election. We still cannot believe that it worked the second time round and we believe there is almost a law of averages that says that somewhere the luck will run out. In fact the whole notion of South Africa being a miracle is true and it is also not true. It is true because in many ways it is just inexplicable. If we look at the people of South Africa and at how they have conducted themselves under the most difficult circumstances, how they have managed to retain their humanity, how it was in fact the oppressed who brought freedom to the oppressor, we see a situation that is difficult to quantify adequately. For a long time social scientists will write all manner of things, and as is the case with social scientists, especially when they write long after the event, they will get it wrong. So I will not attempt to analyse what happened. I am quite happy just to say that in some ways what happened in South Africa was a miracle.

It is also amazing that South Africa has such a batch of extraordinary leaders. That great leader of ours, Nelson Mandela, has stepped down as the President of South Africa, and Thabo Mbeki has stepped in with such ease. If a terrible tragedy were to strike our present Cabinet, there are at least another 100 people who would be absolutely solid contenders for leading our country. I can't explain why, but I think we had very good luck to have such good leaders. Most extraordinary of all is that wonderful leader of ours, who I would like to pay tribute to, Oliver Reginald Tambo.

Comrade O R achieved what I think very few leaders achieved with a movement in exile; he kept our movement united and visionary, and he kept it very firmly at the helm of the leadership of our country, both in exile and within the country. Recently when I was in Johannesburg for the election, I came across a CD of Radio Freedom broadcasts and on it is a track which says 'Our task is to make government impossible'. We laughed at that the night before we went to vote. But it became very moving; we thought about where we are, how far we have come, and about those who are no longer with us. The one voice who will always remain with us is that of Oliver Tambo. We listened to his message on the Year of the Women and it made me think that our movement in exile was just extraordinary in what it managed to do.

Living in London voluntarily, when I can get on an aeroplane and go home, has made me realise what a terribly tough life it must have been to be living in exile. So I want to pay special tribute to those of my comrades, some of whom are here today, who lived here for a very long time, and also to pay tribute to those who not only supported them politically, but also personally. For much of the time that South Africans lived in exile, there was a very confused, and even hostile, attitude to the ANC, even in Africa and certainly in countries like Britain. It was the people in this room who sustained our movement when it was in exile and helped us to build that movement. We were very blessed to have people like Oliver Tambo who was able to keep our movement so cohesive that when it returned home it remained a mass movement, a popular movement of the people. The unity of our movement is a miracle too, but a miracle which can be linked to very extraordinary people.

I want also to say that it was not a miracle, but that we achieved our freedom at great cost. As Abdul Minty said last night, the one thing that really angers me when I think about where we are today is the cost at which it happened: a cost which meant that Vuyisile Mini was hanged, that Nelson Mandela spent 27 years, the best years of his life, in prison, that a great number of families have been traumatised. Today we are all proud of our constitution. But we should remember that it did not fall out of the sky. What happened in our country, the extraordinary freedom we have, was in fact won at great cost and through great sacrifices. We had a formidable enemy in the apartheid state, with very strong international allies across the ideological spectrum, as previous speakers have pointed out. We found ourselves in a situation, especially after the repression of the 1960s, with States of Emergency, prison and exile, where conditions were difficult both inside South Africa and outside, for those who were forced to flee. Within the country the complicity of those who had power, whether it was the media, people with money or white people in general, was a hard act to come up against. We had to defend people who were on trial, deal with people who were in detention and look after children who were left behind when their parents fled into exile.

Fundamental to that, and what I believe has contributed greatly to what South Africa is today, was the building of strong organisations, in exile and most important, inside the country, which was what our exile movement was about. It was a group of very determined people, subjected to much hardship, supported magnificently by democrats overseas, whose main task was to build a strong organisation inside our country. This was not just the military arm. They built Umkhonto we Sizwe, and we do not apologise for that, but the fundamental thing about our movement was always its mass base. That was critical. What was important was the linking of the internal and the exile. I want also to pay tribute to someone who is not here, but who should have been here, and that is Connie Braam. Connie Braam is still suffering bouts of sickness because she was poisoned at the Harare children's conference. I pay tribute to Connie Braam for the role that she played in linking, in being a physical link, between the movement outside and inside South Africa.

What was the impact of the anti-apartheid movement on South Africa? I want to take you back and speak about what the struggle meant to us. In South Africa one of the positive things in the struggle was the fact that our focus was not only about destroying the old, but also about building the new. That had a lot to do with how we conducted our struggle and the kind of support we received from people in the anti-apartheid movement. We learnt a lot from other struggles. I see many of our comrades from neighbouring countries here today. We learnt from everybody. That is why we now have some of the best systems, in education and in health, because we learnt from Cuba, Namibia, Botswana, Lesotho, we learnt from everybody in the world.

I remember how in 1986 Raymond Suttner and I met Oliver Tambo and the leadership of the ANC in Sweden. We went to discuss how we should conduct our affairs after the declaration of the State of Emergency. At about 2 o'clock in the morning Oliver Tambo called Raymond into his room; he finally emerged at sunrise next morning. What did Oliver Tambo discuss with Raymond? In 1985, when the first State of Emergency had been declared, he was working on the constitution. We thought 'Freedom in our Lifetime' was a good slogan, but something we were never going to see. But Oliver Tambo was discussing constitutional principles with Raymond Suttner, who is a trained lawyer.

So we were ready to govern when the situation developed. We had already tapped in to a lot of resources and alternative perspectives, that were out there in spite of the current hostility to progressive perspectives. We forged lasting links with a number of institutions, so that today we still form almost an alternative network which I think will contribute greatly towards the notion of building a new world order.

Everybody has spoken about the solidarity of the anti-apartheid movement, the moral support, the selflessness at a time when it was not a sexy thing to do. I think we should thank people because of their agility. I know how campaigns happened in South Africa. In Cape Town every time people on Robben Island went on hunger strike, even if we were in the middle of a carefully worked out action, we had to drop our campaign. So we'd say: 'Comrades, you have to consult with us on the Island. You can't just go on hunger strike when we are in the middle of a bread boycott.' Well, we did the same thing to you, out in the rest of the world. When you were in the middle of some carefully orchestrated campaign, we would decide to march to free Nelson Mandela and get locked up. Then we needed your support. I think it is important to acknowledge that.

I want to refer to the way in which relationships were built. When we were trying to set up a Nigeria Solidarity Movement in South Africa, after Ken Sarowiwa was executed, we called for a boycott. Our soccer team was outraged because the Nigerians were not allowed to come to South Africa to play in the Africa Cup. There was a backlash in Nigeria and we had to look back to the principles of solidarity in our own struggle. And the principle was that you never make decisions for other people, you never choose people's strategies and tactics. We South Africans inside the country, and by that I mean exiles as well, made the choices, about things like sanctions, like boycotts, we crafted the strategy and the AAM supported us. I think that is a very important principle to remember, and we learnt from it in the Nigerian situation. We also learnt that the other side of the coin is that you need a strong internal movement to be able to do that. In Nigeria it was not possible because of a whole range of different reasons. So building relationships of integrity, and allowing us to choose our own terrain, was very important.

Two more things. Firstly I believe that the way in which we handled the anti-apartheid struggle, and the solidarity relationship, laid the basis for a new world order in the context of a world which is increasingly unipolar. We ensured that apartheid was declared a crime against humanity and we built people's power on the ground, not only in South Africa, but in the world outside, where we challenged what seemed unchallengeable edifices. That laid a whole new popular basis. This was also evident when ACTSA challenged the unipolarity of the World Trade Organisation and the fact that it is dominated by the US government and the big US corporations, and how they dealt with us in the EU negotiating process.

The last point I want to make is about the notion of material support. The Defence and Aid Fund and the people who gave us material support were important not only because this was a life and death matter for us, but because extending practical help raised public awareness in the countries where we were working. It was very important that a great number of people had educational opportunities, that Thabo Mbeki was able to study at Sussex University, and that Ethel de Keyser is continuing to do this work today. Help in the field of education contributed to our readiness to govern, in the context of Bantu and apartheid education. The way in which people pioneered the Kagiso set-up was crucial, where people cut off all assistance to the apartheid regime but found a novel way of ensuring that money went into South Africa and that we did not disadvantage ordinary South Africans. The setting up of the Kagiso Trust was a first for the European Parliament of the time.

I want to conclude by saying that since we are gathered here as the European anti-apartheid movement, together with South Africans, there are certain things about the world as it is today that we need to take into account. Firstly the world has changed since the collapse of Eastern Europe. We have this thing that we refer to as unipolarity. It has very profound implications for North-South relationships and especially for people in struggle. That is why I hope that this gathering will inspire us to remember that the struggle continues in Southern Africa. Secondly, there are a great number of struggles going on throughout the world, which can and must be supported by people like ourselves. There is a struggle in Africa to reclaim itself, which is fundamental to the world's sense of humanity, and with which we need assistance as democrats.

Last, but not least, I do not know what to make of the elections for the European Parliament, but it warms our hearts to see that 13 out of 15 governments in Europe are progressive governments. Now we find that the European Parliament is going to be dominated by people with fairly conservative views. I believe we will need to look very carefully at the impact that this will have on Europe's relationship with Africa. Kader Asmal was has said that he believes that the one thing that will help us is a strong movement – he asked whether there are bodies like ACTSA in other European countries. The only way we are going to keep a proper balance is by ensuring that the movement represented here in this room understands what is happening in Europe, in the world, and particularly in Africa.

A tribute to international solidarity support for Southern Africa

Peter Katjavivi

I wish to extend to you warmest greetings from His Excellency Dr Sam Nujoma, President of the Republic of Namibia and the Honourable Theo-Ben Gurirab, Minister of Foreign Affairs, who both send their good will and best wishes for a most successful Symposium.

Today, exactly 40 years ago, the Anti-Apartheid Movement was launched in London at the request of the African National Congress of South Africa. Present at that historic meeting were Mwalimu Julius K Nyerere, former President of Tanzania and Father Trevor Huddleston, both of whom later played catalytic roles in fighting against the apartheid regime.

It therefore gives me great pleasure to be invited here and to talk to you about a topic close to my heart, namely international solidarity in support of freedom, justice and development. In Southern Africa we needed your support, and indeed we got it! With that support we got our freedom and justice. We are now engaged in a new and continued struggle: that of developing our countries economically, through national and regional solidarity. This is a struggle that requires new strategies and added energy in order to cope with the obligations of sustaining peace and democracy in an enabling environment. That means redirecting our efforts towards new goals, which also require international solidarity.

Victory against the apartheid system came on the heels of travail. Men and women, young and old, governments, organisations and institutions of various kinds resolved to uproot the evil system of apartheid. Their efforts bore fruit on 27 April 1994, when South Africa, the last country in Africa to get rid of colonial shackles, attained democratic rule under the revered, now former, President, Nelson Mandela.

Therefore the Anti-Apartheid Movement, together with others who fought day and night to help us achieve freedom and justice, can today stand up to be commended for a job well done.

In Namibia the struggle against the South African regime began immediately after the League of Nations placed the mandated territory of South West Africa under South Africa. Following the collapse of the League, South Africa tried to annex Namibia as a fifth province in the mid-1940s. It is worth noting that the South African Prime Minister, Jan Smuts, apparently had the support of Winston Churchill in this bid to annex Namibia. In protest at this action Chief Hosea Kutako, fellow compatriots of the time and Rev Michael Scott petitioned the United Nations. This marked the beginning of an irrepressible force for freedom and independence in Namibia and international solidarity for the struggle of the people of Namibia stems from this time.

The Anti-Apartheid Movement played a major role in this international solidarity for Namibia as well as for the rest of Southern Africa. We recall with appreciation the Anti-Apartheid Movement initiative which led to the hosting of an international conference on South West Africa in Oxford in 1966, under the chairmanship of the late Olaf Palme, then a prominent minister in the Swedish government.

To strengthen the international solidarity movement, SWAPO decided to open an office in Western Europe, and sent me to London in 1968 for this purpose. Our office's remit was to sensitise and mobilise public opinion against the atrocities of the South African regime in Namibia and to inform the international community about the imprisonment of 37 of our compatriots in Pretoria, including Comrade Andimba Toivo ya Toivo. It was during this time that the Terrorism Act was passed, specifically to deal with these Namibians and they were given long prison sentences and sent to Robben Island. Comrade Andimba ya Toivo was released only in 1984. He is currently serving as Minister of Labour.

In discharging my duties as SWAPO Representative for the UK and Western Europe, I worked closely with the Anti-Apartheid Movement, the Friends of Namibia Committee, later renamed the Namibia Support Committee, with a lot of support from the Labour Party, the Liberal Party, the Movement for Colonial Freedom, under the leadership of Fenner Brockway, the Communist Party of Great Britain and a few Conservative Party members. The International Defence Aid Fund played a critical role – that of providing legal services.

Also involved were friends such as Ethel de Keyser, Randolph Vigne, Phyllis Altman, Lord David Steel, Lord Bob Hughes, Mike Terry, Jo Morris, Abdul Minty, Vella Pillay, E S Reddy, Kader Asmal and Mary Benson. Among those who are no longer with us, five people stand out. These are Ruth First, Canon John Collins, Bishop Colin Winter, Alex Lyon and Joan Lestor.

We worked together to mobilise support for SWAPO and the people of Namibia and to get the UN Security Council to recognise the legitimacy of Namibia's liberation struggle under the leadership of SWAPO. Resolution 435 was adopted in 1978 and finally implemented in 1989, which led to Namibia's independence in 1990.

The total dismantling of apartheid was of course then around the corner. However, a lot of hard work still remained before the day in 1994 when freedom came to South Africa
as well.

I wish to emphasise that the international solidarity support movements, and the liberation movements in Southern Africa, were fighting not against race, but against a system – a system that engulfed Namibia, South Africa, Angola, Mozambique and Zimbabwe, although it was not necessarily called apartheid in countries outside Namibia and South Africa. The coming together of different people and organisations from different countries and continents stood out as an outstanding example of the oneness of mind, action and purpose of humanity, in the quest for God-given rights, which had been denied to us by the apartheid regime.

Since the attainment of freedom and independence in the region, we have upheld the objectives of our struggle by committing ourselves to a policy of reconciliation. There is no question that we are, indeed, determined to promote good governance, to uphold justice, and to protect human rights. Both Namibia and South Africa have specific provisions on human rights enshrined in our respective constitutions. That in itself is a testimony to the fact that Southern Africa has achieved a consensus on the essence of a moral community, an agreement to share social, political and economic values, thereby defining individual, community and institutional roles, without disregarding the principles of democracy.

As during the time of the struggle for independence, international solidarity is again becoming necessary as we strive towards economic development. It is important to note regional initiatives such as SADC and COMESA as concrete examples of sustained effort in regional co-operation.

Permit me to say a word about the role of the University of Namibia (UNAM), of which I have the honour to be Vice-Chancellor. Like most universities in Africa and elsewhere, UNAM has, since its inception, been striving to serve the needs and aspirations of our people through teaching, research and community service.

Our challenge is to contribute in the most effective and cost-effective manner to our country's human resource capital. We believe that this must be done strategically, through linkages with various universities in the SADC region and beyond. We also believe that small universities, like UNAM, can benefit a great deal from working in partnership with sister institutions of higher education in both the South and the North. In this connection, I wish to emphasise the important work being done to help UNAM network with universities in the UK, and to promote capacity building in specialised areas by the Canon Collins Education Trust, under the dynamic leadership of Ethel de Keyser, the British Council and the Africa Education Trust.

In conclusion I wish to express my sincere thanks to the organisers of this event for inviting me to join you in marking the 40th anniversary of the Anti-Apartheid Movement. This Symposium is a fitting tribute to the international solidarity that greatly contributed towards the independence of Namibia, and of all the formerly oppressed countries of the Southern African regime. There is no question that international solidarity played a pivotal role in mobilising world opinion against apartheid and injustices in Southern Africa. I wish to sincerely salute the Anti-Apartheid Movement and recognise the work
it has done in supporting our struggle for liberation in Namibia and the rest of
Southern Africa.

AAM and UN: partners in the international campaign against apartheid

E S Reddy

I think of the 'anti-apartheid movement' as a coalition of anti-apartheid organisations and individuals, as well as a growing number of governments, which in the 1960s was able to secure the active involvement of the United Nations, the Commonwealth, the Non-Aligned Movement, the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) and many other international organisations. This was a coalition which encompassed the world and consisted of international, regional, national and local bodies. It developed a broad range of actions from public boycotts to UN sanctions, from the provision of humanitarian assistance to refugees to military and non-military assistance to the liberation movement.

I can think of no other coalition of this scope, of no other campaign that was carried on so long and with such persistence, and of no other cause for which so many people in so many countries made such sacrifices. This broad coalition played a crucial role in the liberation of South Africa from apartheid. Recognition of this fact in no way detracts from the struggle of the South African people, because this great international movement could not have developed without the vision and statesmanship of the leaders of the liberation movement and without the struggle which they led.

In this solidarity movement it can be said without exaggeration that the Anti-Apartheid Movement in Britain and its leaders played a very significant role, both at the national and international level, and had a greater impact than its members perhaps realise. That is why the AAM became the target of South African intelligence and terrorism more than any group other than the liberation movement.

The meeting at Holborn Hall on 26 June 1959, which launched the international boycott of South Africa, received little media attention, but the spread of boycott actions in Britain helped make South Africa a major political issue within a few months.

AAM started its international work early in its life – developing contacts and promoting the establishment of anti-apartheid groups in other West European countries; lobbying the Commonwealth in 1960–61 and the International Olympic Committee in 1962; launching the World Campaign for the Release of South African Political Prisoners in 1963; and organising the International Conference on Sanctions against South Africa in 1964. Its campaigns for peoples' boycotts, government sanctions and the arms embargo soon spread far beyond the borders of Britain.

London was an important centre for many reasons. Because of historical links and the Commonwealth connection, there was a greater awareness in Britain than elsewhere of the situation in South Africa; opposition to racism and apartheid had developed over the years, despite collaboration with apartheid by the government and by vested interests. There was greater access to news from South Africa, and more personal contact with South Africans. Some of the British churchmen who had served in South Africa became fervent opponents of apartheid and South African exiles in Britain were active in seeking support for the freedom movement. Britain was by far the most important economic partner and supplier of arms to South Africa, so that public opinion in Britain was particularly important. And London was an important centre for the dissemination of information, especially to Commonwealth countries, and for approaches to Commonwealth governments.

The development of relations between the Anti-Apartheid Movement and the United Nations from 1964 or 1965 enhanced the AAM's international impact during a period when the AAM had hardly any resources to devote to international work. It helped the AAM to develop close relations with the OAU and contacts with many governments. The AAM, in turn, contributed significantly to the effectiveness of the United Nations, and especially of its Special Committee against Apartheid, in its anti-apartheid activities.

The UN Special Committee against Apartheid was established by a General Assembly resolution of 6 November 1962, and held its first meeting on 2 April 1963. That was a few days after Harold Wilson, the leader of the Labour Party, called for an arms embargo against South Africa at an AAM rally in Trafalgar Square. None of the Western countries accepted membership in the Special Committee because it had been created by a General Assembly resolution which had called for economic and other sanctions against South Africa; it was the first UN committee to be boycotted by the West.

The Special Committee, however, was able to use its composition to become an activist, rather than a deliberative, organ and a lobby for the liberation movement, and to build up wide support for a programme of action against apartheid. It enjoyed the confidence of a large majority in the General Assembly, so that it was often seen as the voice of the United Nations, though the UN could not take effective action on sanctions.

It was during the Sanctions Conference held in London in April 1964 that a delegation of the UN Special Committee first met the leaders of the AAM. It held hearings at Church House, where Barbara Castle, then AAM's President, spoke, and was accompanied by Abdul Minty. The Special Committee made a detailed report on the Sanctions Conference to the General Assembly and the Security Council.

In the general election of October 1964, the Labour Party was returned to power and Harold Wilson became Prime Minister. The new government announced an arms embargo against South Africa, as the United States had done in 1963. It soon became clear that the major Western Powers were not prepared to take any further action against the South African regime. Britain and the US were not even prepared to exert pressure on France and other countries which profited by replacing them as sources of military equipment for South Africa. We were faced with a deadlock on sanctions – and paralysis if sanctions were our only objective at the United Nations.

I was not convinced that all our efforts should be focused on sanctions, so I promoted information activity, assistance to political prisoners and their families, scholarships for South Africans, etc. In 1966, I formulated the concept of 'an international campaign against apartheid under the auspices of the United Nations'. It was approved by the Special Committee and endorsed by the General Assembly, and served as a broad framework for action against apartheid from then on.

The strategy was to press for a range of measures to isolate the regime, support the liberation movement and inform world public opinion; to continue pressing for effective sanctions as the only means for a peaceful solution, and at the same time to obtain action on other measures which could be decided by a majority vote in the General Assembly; to isolate the major trading partners of South Africa by persuading other Western countries to co-operate in action to the greatest feasible extent; and to find ways to promote public opinion and public action against apartheid, especially in the countries which were the main collaborators with the South African regime. This also meant that we built the broadest support for each measure, thereby welcoming co-operation rather than alienating governments and organisations which were not yet prepared to support sanctions or armed struggle. I had been in frequent consultation with the ANC and the AAM and this strategy emerged from the consultations, though the formulation was entirely mine and the text was not cleared with them.

In June 1968, the UN Special Committee held its first session outside UN headquarters – in Stockholm, London and Geneva. The AAM helped to organise the London meetings at Friends House, arranged for the participation of many British organisations and individuals, and presented memoranda. The proposals which emerged in the consultations were reflected in the UN General Assembly resolution later that year, and in the programme of the Special Committee.

From that time the British AAM became, in effect, the closest non-governmental associate of the Special Committee. This co-operation was without precedent in relations between the UN and non-governmental organisations. The Special Committee sent letters of support for AAM campaigns whenever requested. It sent representatives to conferences and other events organised by the AAM and often sent representatives to London for consultations. The UN was a convenient place for the AAM to send petitions. The Special Committee not only granted hearings to AAM representatives, but invited them to its conferences, seminars and other events, providing fares and expenses. They were allowed full rights of participation, along with government representatives, and were often elected as officers of conferences and seminars. These events enabled the anti-apartheid movements from different countries to meet and consult on internationalising campaigns. The contacts made with governments were often useful. The major conferences also occasionally provided an opportunity to confront the governments of major Western powers. A number of the publications of the UN Centre against Apartheid were prepared by AAM or by consultants recommended by AAM. Many of the provisions of UN resolutions originated from suggestions made by the AAM.

The Anti-Apartheid Movement in Britain helped the Special Committee to meet other British organisations and develop contacts with anti-apartheid groups in other countries. As the AAM was in closer contact with South Africa than the UN Secretariat, it was a useful source of information.

I must make special mention of Abdul Minty. He was invited to many conferences and seminars of the United Nations, and even to assist missions of the Special Committee, as his advice was highly valued. He became one of the few individuals who was invited to speak in the Security Council and to its committee on the arms embargo. I believe that close association with the Special Committee enabled Abdul Minty to widen his contacts with governments. The AAM was able, through him, to make an input into the decisions and work of UN agencies, the OAU, the Non-Aligned Movement and the Commonwealth. In 1979 Abdul Minty established the World Campaign against Military and Nuclear Collaboration with South Africa, with the support of the AAM and the encouragement of the Special Committee. The World Campaign was the UN's main source of information on violations of the arms embargo. Without it, the arms embargo would have been much
less effective.

On other issues, our day-to-day contact with the AAM from about 1976 was through Mike Terry. The UN and the AAM co-operated in organising seminars and conferences, and producing publications and other campaign material; they also co-operated on the observance of Nelson Mandela's 60th birthday in 1978 and on the 'Free Mandela' campaign. I consulted Mike on many other campaigns and he was responsible for several UN resolutions and actions. Sometimes suggestions came from me and the AAM responded with imagination. Sometimes suggestions came from the AAM and we tried to do all we could to obtain action by the UN and to internationalise campaigns.

I mentioned that Britain was the main area of anti-apartheid action in the 1960s. In the 1970s it became clear that United States policy was the main hindrance to international action against apartheid because the US viewed the South African problem in the context of the Cold War. It was essential for a peaceful solution, or a solution with the least violence, to persuade the US to revise its policy and, as the leader of the Western countries, to promote concerted action. Some hopeful trends during the Carter administration (1976–1980) were followed by a virtual alliance with the apartheid regime during the Reagan administration under the guise of 'constructive engagement'. The Botha regime found it possible to destabilise neighbouring African States with impunity, causing enormous losses in human life and infrastructure.

Even during this period the AAM continued to play an important role because of its experience and international contacts. The US became increasingly isolated when it tried to protect the apartheid regime. A turning point was reached in 1984 with the resurgence of the movement in South Africa, the massive demonstrations against Botha in Britain and Western Europe and the launch of the Free South Africa Movement in the United States.

United Nations assistance to AAM

In 1967 the Special Committee received a letter from the Anti-Apartheid Movement's Treasurer, Tony O'Dowd, requesting financial assistance. I replied, in a private letter to the AAM, that there was no possibility of a grant and that in any case I would not support one. The AAM had relied mainly on volunteers and I felt that if it got large grants its spirit would be lost and that it might collapse when the funds stopped. That was my personal view based on experience in India and on what I had observed in the United States.

In those days the AAM had hardly any funds. On one of my frequent visits to the AAM office I observed that they had a table with only three legs; the UN documents we supplied them with were substituting for the fourth leg. Distribution of UN publications had become a burden on their finances. More than ten years later, we found a way to make small grants to national anti-apartheid movements and other organisations for publicity material and for conferences and seminars organised by them in co-operation with the Special Committee. The British AAM was given funds for arranging several conferences and seminars and for producing pamphlets and posters. This was no subvention as the AAM staff contributed their labour, and the costs were therefore far less than if the UN had undertaken the task.

One of the problems in carrying on the international campaign against apartheid was the recognition by the OAU of two liberation movements – the African National Congress and the Pan-Africanist Congress – and the demand of the PAC for equality in every respect with the ANC. This affected discussions on many projects after the two movements were granted observer status at the UN and began to participate in meetings of the Special Committee. The PAC tried to use the Special Committee to exert pressure on anti-apartheid movements. Though this retarded co-operation between the Special Committee and anti-apartheid movements in the 1980s, more serious problems were averted as it became increasingly clear that the ANC was the main force in the struggle for liberation.

The UN Special Committee and the Anti-Apartheid Movement both recognised that the primary role in the struggle for liberation belonged to the national liberation movement and that their own work was supportive. They were able to establish a close relationship because of the following special circumstances: the Special Committee had a greater freedom of action because of the absence of Western and some other members; it was allowed leeway because of the general opposition to apartheid; and the Special Committee showed great wisdom in using its opportunities.

The partnership between the UN and the Anti-Apartheid Movement influenced other
UN bodies to develop closer and more meaningful relations with non-governmental organisations. The importance of these organisations is now increasingly recognised
by the UN and by governments.

The Special Committee and the AAM played an important role in isolating the South African regime, challenging its legitimacy and securing world-wide support for the liberation movement. In the course of a long struggle, when the situation in South Africa was constantly getting worse, they were not frustrated or dispirited, but persisted in their campaigns with faith that liberation would be won. They helped keep the issue alive during a difficult period – the decade after the Rivonia trial – when the movement had to re-establish underground structures shattered by repression and to organise open and clandestine action in South Africa. They countered moves in major Western countries to assist the South African regime after the collapse of Portuguese colonialism and the resurgence of the liberation struggle in South Africa.

Without the work of the national anti-apartheid movements, and their co-operation with the UN Special Committee, the OAU and other international bodies, support for the liberation movement might have been confined to non-aligned and Communist countries. The struggle would have been much harder and would have required even greater sacrifices.

Progress made in international action was often due to anti-apartheid movements in Western countries. The abrogation of the Simonstown Agreement, South Africa's only military agreement, was, for instance, mainly due to a campaign by the AAM. Because of the development of public opinion, governments changed their attitudes and co-operated in international action, or were at least prevented from veering to the other side. This process gradually changed the balance of forces against apartheid.

 

A common purpose: the Commonwealth's support for the AAM

Patsy Robertson

I am grateful for the opportunity to be here and give a short synopsis of the Commonwealth's relations with the Anti-Apartheid Movement.

If ever there was an organisation which could be said to have found not only a role, but its soul, because of its support for freedom in Southern Africa, it is the new Commonwealth. I use the word new advisedly, because until the sixties the mores of the old Commonwealth of white Dominions prevailed. One of its main tenets was non-interference in internal affairs, which allowed the South African government to deflect early attempts by India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka to introduce discussion of what was happening in South Africa.

In the 1960s, however, things changed dramatically in the Commonwealth. From a rich white club of six members, the Commonwealth had grown, by the end of the decade, to 31 members. The Commonwealth Secretariat was established in 1965 to coordinate activities on behalf of member states because many newly independent governments were less than happy that the UK was still in control of the Commonwealth's agenda. Many countries were also outraged about South Africa and were determined that the association should be in the forefront of international opposition to apartheid. In May 1960, Commonwealth Prime Ministers told South Africa, which had indicated its intention to become a republic, that it would have to seek the consent of other Commonwealth governments
if it wished to remain a member. That meeting also, for the first time, held informal discussions with the then South African Foreign Minister Mr Louw about the racial situation in his country.

By this time the Anti-Apartheid Movement had begun its campaigning. The Commonwealth struck its first blow in support of the campaign when in March 1961, with new members joining Asian members in condemning apartheid, Dr Verwoerd withdrew his application for South Africa's continued membership.

This was the period when the AAM was making contacts with the newly established High Commissions in London and winning them over to the struggle. One of the first international actions of my country Jamaica, which became independent in 1962, was to ban South African passport holders from entering the island – one of the first countries in the world to do so.

The AAM also established a regular presence at Commonwealth summit meetings, organising lobbies of leaders and holding vigils to draw attention to what was happening in South Africa. In 1964, it produced a memorandum calling for a Commonwealth policy on apartheid which was circulated to all Heads of Government.

In 1965, the establishment of the Commonwealth Secretariat helped Commonwealth governments to intensity their activities in relation to Southern Africa. Governments had already challenged the British government in 1964 on Southern Rhodesia and stated that they would not recognise any unilateral declaration of independence. The declaration of UDI, five months after the Secretariat was established, galvanised the Commonwealth.

At the Lagos meeting in January 1966 – the first ever to be held outside the UK – the Commonwealth began devising ways and means to support the majority populations in both Rhodesia and South Africa. It set up ministerial committees to maintain pressure for sanctions and to keep the situation under review, as well as to co-ordinate assistance to those forced to flee their countries. These committees of Foreign Ministers, High Commissioners or other officials maintained close contacts with the AAM, which was always in the wings at their meetings.

The Commonwealth Secretariat became a conduit for information which the AAM was gathering about such issues as arms sales to South Africa. The AAM supplied valuable information which was helpful to the Commonwealth delegation led by Kenneth Kaunda which called on British Prime Minister Ted Heath in 1970 to argue for a ban on arms sales. It is the received wisdom in Commonwealth circles that this delegation was given short shrift by Mr Heath who then advised the Queen not to attend the Commonwealth summit in Singapore in January 1971. The arms issue precipitated a tremendous row at the meeting, with sessions lasting until the early hours, but it cleared the air, demonstrating to a British government reluctant to act on either Rhodesia or South Africa that the Commonwealth was determined to fight for change.

The good relations which developed between the AAM and the Secretariat enabled the AAM to lobby Commonwealth leaders on its call for general UN sanctions against South Africa, for the release of political prisoners in South Africa and for the ending of the Simonstown Agreement. The AAM's Hon. Secretary, Abdul Minty, was able to be in Singapore to present to conference chairman Lee Kuan Yew petitions with 10,000 signatures against the sale of arms to South Africa.

Throughout the 1970s the AAM maintained pressure through its contacts with the Secretariat and with Commonwealth member countries. Representatives of the Movement were welcome at Commonwealth summit meetings and were encouraged to lobby Commonwealth leaders. The Commonwealth was then primarily concerned with Rhodesia, but it was clear that as soon as that business was completed it would move on to South Africa and Namibia.

The Commonwealth had also changed, from an organisation where, in 1966, the Prime Minister of Australia left the summit to brief British, Australian and New Zealand journalists that he sitting at a table with 'people who had just come down from the trees', to one where another Australian Prime Minister, Malcolm Fraser, played a leading role in the emergence of a free Zimbabwe, and where his successors in the 1980s provided the fullest possible support for Commonwealth action on South Africa.

The communiquιs and other written records tell the remarkable story of the Commonwealth and its relations with the AAM. But what they do not tell is how changes came as a result of relationships between people. Both the AAM and the Commonwealth were fortunate in their leaders. The Commonwealth's first Secretary-General, Arnold Smith, a Canadian, was totally opposed to racial discrimination and he was fully backed by Canadian prime ministers like Lester Pearson and Pierre Trudeau. They supported him in his initiatives on Rhodesia and rejected the label of “terrorist” pinned on such leaders as Robert Mugabe, Joshua Nkomo, Nelson Mandela and Oliver Tambo.

Arnold Smith helped the Commonwealth define ways in which it would pursue its campaign for democracy in Southern Africa; his successor Shridath Ramphal went even further, persuading the Commonwealth to support the struggle, armed and otherwise, for independence. He worked closely with leaders who pushed Commonwealth action to its boundaries, such as Julius Nyerere, Kenneth Kaunda, Michael Manley, Malcolm Fraser, Pierre Trudeau, Olusegun Obasanjo, Mohammed Mahathir, Indira and Rajiv Gandhi and Brian Mulroney and worked ceaselessly to come up with ideas on how to realise their objectives.

By the beginning of the 1980s the Commonwealth had achieved success in Zimbabwe and could turn to the question of South Africa. This was a much more formidable battle, against very powerful interests. The Secretariat began to suffer what the AAM had always suffered – outright hostility from many sources, including the British media which attempted to discredit the Secretary-General and other Commonwealth leaders. The Times commissioned a reporter to scour London for material to denigrate Shridath Ramphal and in the run-up to the crucial Commonwealth meeting in Nassau in 1985, the then Prime Minister of the Bahamas, who as host would chair the meeting, was accused by the Sunday Times of benefiting from drug trafficking. The Sunday Telegraph also attacked Shridath Ramphal, accusing him of creeping over the walls of Buckingham Palace to give the Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, poisonous advice about the issues at stake.

The 1980s also provided the Commonwealth with a most formidable opponent of change in South Africa, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. Her defence of the apartheid regime, and her determination to delay change, energised the relationship between the Commonwealth, the AAM and the ANC. Shridath Ramphal had by then developed a warm relationship with Trevor Huddleston, Oliver Tambo and Abdul Minty, who attended practically all Commonwealth summit meetings in the 1970s and 1980s, as well as with the indefatigable Mike Terry and Bob Hughes. They provided the Secretariat with invaluable information and insights into the struggle and helped the Commonwealth maintain its principled stand despite all efforts to denigrate its initiatives.

These contacts greatly facilitated the Commonwealth's final push to help end apartheid. At the Nassau meeting, the Commonwealth decided to send a delegation to South Africa, a decision which Mrs Thatcher reluctantly agreed to support. Immediately after the agreement had been announced, she called in the British press to denigrate it. On television she told the British people that she had made only a 'tiny, tiny' concession to the Commonwealth. That concession was the Eminent Persons