The world is a funny place and, to be honest, at times, a sad place. Watching the UK news reminds me of events during our farm evictions, known colloquially in Zimbabwe as the Jambanja. They are not similar in the reason or level of violence, only similar in the senseless destruction of property outside the rule of law by mobs. That's where it ends. The big difference is that in the UK, the police, on many occasions the target themselves, challenge the rioters depending on who they are, according to social media, while in Zimbabwe, the state-sponsored thugs, known often by the misnomer as ‘war-vets’, acted unimpeded by the police who were either absent or in many cases actively involved in the thuggery. There was no condemnation by the state. In fact, the Government representatives or ruling party senior members, even ministers, instigated the violence in what had become a land grab. They, the ruling party, were using state-instigated violence as a means to vacate farms, with the promise to the 'povo' land as a reward for their actions, while in reality, much of the land was distributed amongst its cadres and supporters to ensure their political survival when the opposition was at its strongest. In fact, the opposition had just won an election stolen from them and helped garner enough support to defeat a Mugabe-sponsored referendum meant to fortify his dream of being a lifelong President. Another aspect different in the UK is that there have been no deaths, unlike in Zimbabwe, where farm owners and workers were beaten, tortured and killed. One of these being a friend and neighbour, Terry Ford. His wife Tish just passed last week, sadly.
Another similarity, by pure coincidence, is that the Labour Party was in power in the UK during both events, and then-Prime Minister Tony Blair was happy to witness with minimum condemnation the illegal acts against many of his country’s citizens, if not their descendants.
“Politicians only act after accessing the political gain for an action, be it popular or unpopular. No gain, no action, be it good or bad.” - Peter McSporran
Many of us were expecting riots in France during the Olympics, having been primed to expect such a possibility by the mainstream press. The British press seemed to will this in their reporting, almost wishing for or at least predicting such action. Instead, Britain finds itself with serious disturbances in the form of vandalism and aggression against illegal immigrants and the police, while in France, we watch the Olympics as they continue to demonstrate the wonder and extent of human endeavour in relative peace.
“As with social media, the ‘Fourth Estate’ can no longer be trusted. The news has become driven by individual perception or bias rather than fact, making the naive or uniformed easily influenced into carrying out stupid acts which many will regret.” - Peter McSporran
These latest disturbances in the UK sparked, it seems, by the brutal killing and injuring of some innocent little girls. Any excuse would do ‘me thinks’, with the politicians blaming extremists for the problem, while they themselves take no blame despite being unable to or rather having the will to deal with the underlying causes which have been brewing for years. Despite this, demonstrations should be peaceful, with numbers influencing politicians, not isolated groups of vandals. In saying that, if the politicians of the two leading parties in the UK ignore the underlying cause and reconsider their over-generous support to illegal immigrants to the detriment of the services and support to their own citizens, discontent will continue to smoulder bursting into flame when given the right excuse real or imagined.
“When I was a boy growing up in Scotland, such disturbances were blamed on left-wing extremists. Later, once again, the coal miners' strike instigators were labelled extreme left. Now, it seems these people from the same social class have become right-wing extremists. How can that be I ask myself?” - Peter McSporran
The vast majority of white farmers evicted by force were citizens of Zimbabwe of British descent, some being fourth-generation, those of military age at the time serving in the British forces in two world wars. Despite this, it politically suited Blair and Britain to stand back and watch despite that same country demanding to be seen as the authority in handing over the reins to Mugabe at Independence. In fact, it could be argued that the actions of Blair and Clare Short, his Secretary of State for Development, were one of the main catalysts that finally lit the flame of the ‘Fast-Track Land Reform Program’ (FTLRP). Unsurprisingly, they never accepted any responsibility for their state’s or personal actions.
Last week, yet another report of the death of someone well known to the farming community in the form of Brian ‘Dog’ Durrant. I first met him when having lunch at the Harare Club, he was with his boss at that time, Tony Taberer, the owner of Tabex Tobacco, well known in tobacco circles and the racecourses of Zimbabwe and South Africa. Dog took over Tabex’s flower exporting business, and we exported our hypericum through him for a while. Dog was a larger-than-life character with a finger in many pies but will probably be better remembered for his social escapades. I am not going to add further about him as he had both his admirers and detractors, but rather, hearing of his death kindled a bit of nostalgia about all the characters now passed who had touched my life when farming, many offering and giving me amazing support. Just to ensure you know, the area in question, and I describe as our farming neighbourhood, was an area west of Inkomo barracks on the main Darwendale road, this being the northern boundary, the Gwebi River and Hunyani as our western boundary, and the Umzururu River our southern boundary. We included one farm adjacent and north of the road, Sodbury Estates, owned by John Jones and two south with Terry Ford adjacent to the Umzururu and Joe Whaley adjoining on his southern boundary. Technically I think the latter were in the Norton district but seemed to prefer to be part of our community.
When Diane and I arrived in Darwendale, we were the youngest farm owners at the time. It should be little surprise, therefore, that the vast majority, although some not many years older than me, have now passed most far too young, some due to poor health and some by tragic circumstance. The first to go was my immediate neighbour, as previously reported, Clem Bruk-Jackson, of Tarnagulla Farm, who died in his fifties with a heart attack just after Independence. Clem was my only contiguous neighbour due to my farm boundary being made up mainly by Darwendale Dam, now known as Lake Hunyani. Next to go was John Gordon, of Audley End Farm, tragically killed in a car crash on his way home from Harare late one evening. His farm bounded on my Mede farm and Clem’s. John and Clem were very much my mentors in those early days, with me knowing little about growing tobacco. After an evening together looking at our crops, we would have a few beers, finally ending the evening with a whisky. Before Independence, whisky was like gold: hard to find and to be treasured, not to be wasted. Being Scottish, I tried to ensure we always had some in the house, at great expense, in those days, while my good friends, who were not really whisky drinkers, made alternate plans. Clem found a source of a then little-known brand of whisky in Rhodesia called Hanky Bannister. Yes, there is a brand called Hanky Bannister but the whisky Clem procured in great bulk was in bottles unique to our country and at prices so cheap to put its provenance in serious doubt. In fact, his son Des served us the same whisky many years after his death, he had purchased so much. At least Clem did his best to serve us Scotch while John, being somewhat renowned for being tight in monetary terms but generous in character, got around the dilemma by buying the local cane spirit-flavoured whisky, Gold Blend, and decanting it into a well-used J&B bottle. The colour, let alone the taste, being a dead give-away.
Sorry for the diversion. Other close neighbours that have now passed included Johnny Walters, Upwey Farm, and then my fishing, gambling and drinking friend, the legendary Henry Beziudenhout, who also died in a car crash when a truck pulled out in front of him on his way home at night. The next to die was Terry Ford, brutally murdered during the Jambanja, held against a tree while they used his own vehicle to crush him to death. terry's death had a profiund affect on Joe Whaley as Terry was killed in his new home built just some three hundred metres from his and Wendy's house on Crebilly. Francis Rossier, Tana Farm, Chris Vermaak, Gwebi Paradise, Joe Whaley, Crebilly, David Stokes, Mizpah, Chris Bell, Delamore, Ian Gordon, Hilbre and Hamish Black, Wellesley Estate have all passed since we lost our farms. All of them were close neighbours of my generation. There were a number of elderly residents who were no longer actively farming. These included the Gordons senior, the Smits, Mr Taylor, a local mechanic and land owner, Jack Reeves and the Waghons. They did not get involved in local social events or the security of the district but made an effort to attend farmers' meetings.
Joe, Henry, Chris Bell, and Hamish all leave widows still alive today; Wendy, Nancy, Lorraine and Tinks. All the wives lived longer than their husbands. Living proof that farmers' wives generally outlived their husbands in Zimbabwe. In fact, only two of that generation of my neighbours are still alive, as are their wives, they being John Jones of Sodbury Farm and Earl Burger of Upwey Farm, Johnny Walters's partner and brother-in-law. I have not mentioned all the wives here, but in thinking of the men, I include their spouses, the real strength of the community in my thoughts. Our entertainment was tennis followed by supper at Nybira Club or a meal with our neighbours either as guests or hosts. Yes, I get a bit nostalgic when I think of all the good and bad times we shared as neighbours, socialising and supporting each other in times of need. It is the same story with most of the farmers I met and became friends with while at the CFU or through cattle sales and the show circuit. Many are dead, most brokenhearted by the loss of their farms. Sadly, Alan Burl is the only CFU president who preceded me and is still alive.
When I became president of the CFU, I took on some not-so-pleasant duties, including attending many Government-sponsored and other functions hosted by business leaders, Ambassadors, and High Commissioners. Admittedly, some were pleasant, but most were more of a duty, with many hours spent at such functions trying to educate foreign political leaders and bureaucrats about the role and importance of commercial farmers to Zimbabwe. Many were sympathetic; others were downright hostile. There were so many such functions, often due to boredom, which made me drink more than I should. This convinced me, on advice, to rent a flat in town rather than risk driving home. This, of course, in those days was at one's own expense, as were all meals and casual accommodation. Probably a poor decision in hindsight and made me even more unpopular at home with my marriage deteriorating. In the event, I rarely stayed in the flat in town, defeating the whole purpose of renting it. Bill Moore of the Confederation Of Zimbabwe Industries (CZI) and I would often get together at the more boring events, leading to the demise of our host's red wine stocks.
Government events were the worst, and if the State President was going to be in attendance, it would mean long waits, often in the hot sun, for his arrival. The opening of Osborne Dam was an example of this: hours of delay twiddling our thumbs. State Banquets were the pits, except for the one when Nelson Mandela was the guest of honour; that was while I was still VP. High Commissioners and Ambassadors always had an Independence Day or something similar annually, and it was considered poor form to duck these without a good excuse. Despite that, I became good friends with the Australian High Commissioner at the time, Kerry Sibraa, and the American Ambassador Gib Lanpher, to the extent that we entertained each other in our respective homes. I never got close to the British; their events had as many spooks as guests as did the South Africans. Strangely, I would come across some individuals who were desperate to attend these types of functions, being upset when omitted from the invitation list, while I looked at them more as an unpleasant duty.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
This blog certainly most resonates. I remember it like yesterday and quote from my memoirs..."He (Mugabe) moved on through the crowd towards the podium. His speech was clear, eloquent and proved popular to his audience. He spoke in both English and Shona and clenched his fists regularly. The crowd went wild with jubilation as he ranted on about the evils of colonialism and racism. As a white commercial farmer and as a Prime Minister of Great Britain, it was ominous. He castigated the whites and of course, Tony Blair." It wasn't long after that the invasions and killings started.