POLITICS
She should have called for more mine exports.
Instead, she used Angola as a catwalk
BRUCE ANDERSON
EAfrica semper aliquid malt. But even in the bloodstained history of post-colonial Africa, Angola is conspicuous in its wretchedness and in the contrast between what could be and what is. Nature endowed the country with limitless riches: mineral resources and fertility. Man's contribution was war and poverty.
Yet it might have been so different. There was a moment of hope, in 1975, when Jonas Savimbi's troops were at the gates of Luanda, poised to overthrow the Marxist-Leninist government who thought that, above all, their country needed to learn from Stalin. Since then, Dr Savimbi's record may have been discoloured; 20 years of civil war is never the best training-school for democrats. But at that time, he claimed that other African failures had convinced him of the merits of free enterprise and democracy.
If only he had had the chance to practise them, but there were two obstacles: Preto- ria and Washington. The South Africans had become involved, but not because they were impressed by Jonas Savimbi's plans. Their sole aim was to prevent a communist regime from consolidating its power in Angola; they did not want Eastern Euro- pean troops on their borders. So, with Henry Kissinger's tacit approval, they fought alongside Dr Savimbi, which almost enabled him to secure a quick win.
Then came Watergate, which enabled liberal Democrat congressmen to sabotage American foreign policy. Dr Kissinger had to shorten his lines, and Angola was on the wrong side. Washington instructed Pretoria to scale down its involvement drastically, or face massive disapproval and sanctions (all of which happened anyway within a few years). When ordered to withdraw, the South African troops in Angola almost dis- obeyed; they knew that with their help Dr Savimbi was within days of victory. P.W. Botha himself — then defence minister had to fly in and force them to comply.
Out of self-interest, frivolity, ignorance and malice, foreigners helped to condemn Angola to an indeterminate sentence of anarchy and agony. There has now been a renewed outbreak of ignorance and frivoli- ty. It is unlikely that the Princess of Wales was aware of the historical background before her recent visit to Angola. To judge by her television performance, she had carefully planned some aspects of her trip, especially the camera angles, but had given no thought to the reasons for the Angolan people's sufferings.
The Angolan government is receiving humanitarian assistance to help it clear the mines that were used indiscriminately by both sides in the (dormant) civil war. Mine- clearing is a desperately complicated task: despite the British Army's best efforts, there are still large numbers of Argentinian mines on the Falklands; some bits of land will be roped off for decades to come. In Angola, the problem is far worse. So had the Princess called for additional help, she would have had a case to make. Instead, she introduced an entire irrelevance with her call for a ban on mines.
The Princess and her supporters talk as if the manufacture of mines was a sophisticat- ed process, monopolised by Western arms suppliers — they would no doubt say 'mer- chants of death' — who could easily halt the supply, if only they cared a tithe as much about human suffering as they do about their profits. This is nonsense.
Mines are easy to make. Millions of them are being used in the former Yugoslavia, almost all manufactured locally. Any coun- try with the most rudimentary arms indus- try will have no difficulty in producing mines; it is as realistic to call for a global ban as it would be to call for a global ban on rifles or machetes.
The mine is also indispensable in modern warfare for it is a force multiplier. If there is a defensive position, which could come under strong attack from a superior force, the defenders can greatly improve their odds by surrounding themselves with mine- fields. Mines are also useful if it is neces- sary to knock out an airfield. The missiles used to crater runways will also scatter anti- personnel mines, to make life as hard as possible for the repair teams.
There is only one problem about the use of mines. In a war of movement, minefields impede manoeuvre in both directions. Should today's defenders become tomor- row's attackers, they will find that what has hitherto protected them now impedes them. So all Western armies are careful in the way they deploy mines, and would always keep detailed maps.
But if the British Army is to be equipped for high-intensity warfare, the mine is vital. Yet Labour spokesmen have said that they would scrap them: an interesting alliance of Old Labour, with its CND, anti-defence mentality, and New Labour, which will say anything to win votes. 'Labour: I don't know what you're talking about,' said the Princess when she was asked whether she was endorsing their policy, and it is easy to accept her protestation of ignorance. But Labour know perfectly well what she is talking about, and how to exploit it. Not only is the British Army scrupulous in its use of mines; it has almost completely replaced old-fashioned anti-personnel mines, which last indefinitely, with 'smart mines, which can be timed to become inert after a brief period. Those mines are more expensive than the traditional mine, whose manufacture is as cheap as it is easy; there would probably be only a limited Third World market. But given that mines will continue to be used, it is much better that they should be smart mines. At present, because of a mixture of sentimentality and cowardice, British manufacturers are for- bidden to export them. That ban will lead to additional deaths and mutilation.
If she had wanted to be useful the Princess of Wales could have made that point. But did she want to be useful? Her visit to Angola will not relieve suffering 131' one iota and there is no reason to believe that this was her intention. To begin with, and even in the children's wards, the Princess would regularly emit a light giggle, at once nervous and insincere, while her eyes flickered constantly towards the photogra- phers. The first emotion came when she was told that she had been described as a 'loose cannon'. That makes me want to burst into tears, she replied. Can they not see that I am a humanitarian: always was, always will be? So she will, at the drop of a camera shutter. Nor should the BBC ecape censure. When John Birt became Director General, he decreed that television current affairs should have an analytic content, and Heart of the Matter programmes used to mean heart in the sense of core: digging under the surface of events with a degree of intel- lectual rigour. But now 'heart' seems to mean vapid emotionalising; the Princesss programme had no rigour whatever. Still, it was anti-Western and anti-Tory: that is good enough for the BBC.
The Princess and her producers, mean- while, are already looking for the next humanitarian photocall, which she can use as she used Aids and Angola: as a catwalk.