31 MAY 1986, Page 5

THE SPECTATOR

ANTI—APARTHEID CRUELTY

As threats go, that of Dr Kenneth Kaunda to withdraw Zambia from the Commonwealth is not very terrifying. If Zambia were to leave, the Commonwealth might be able to endure the shock; and anyway there is no reason to think that it will leave. Zambia is a very poor and unimportant country, and Dr Kaunda gains most of his international prestige from his Commonwealth role. Outside the Commonwealth, he would no longer be able to attend leading international confer- ences and to sit next to the Queen at banquets. Dr Kaunda's threat is simply designed to embarrass Britain. Nations such as Zambia argue that Britain is half-hearted or worse about imposing sanc- tions on South Africa. Dr Kaunda is shrewd enough to observe that any con- troversy involving the Queen is something that British governments will go very far to avoid. The Queen is very serious about her role as Head of the Commonwealth. He therefore threatens the Commonwealth, hoping that the Palace will put pressure on the Government not to upset the Queen. This tactic is a neat illustration of the way that the Commonwealth is increasing- ly used as a mechanism for imposing the will of minor countries on Britain, rather than as a friendly institution from which Britain can extract advantage. It is particu- larly bad that the Queen should be com- promised in her real position as monarch of the United Kingdom by her rather empty one as Head of the Commonwealth. 'Com- monwealth ties' are worse than useless if they prevent Britain from pursuing her own interest. Dr Kaunda himself would be furious if the diktat of the Commonwealth forced him to suspend all his country's trade with South Africa, a trade which is more or less essential to Zambia's survival.

What is Britain's interest in South Afri- ca? In practical terms, it is larger than that of any except the 'front line' states. The investment of British companies is the largest foreign commercial presence in the country. There are approximately 800,000 British passport holders in South Africa and a larger number of people with strong British links. British jobs and British lives are at stake. The jobs would go if strict sanctions were imposed. Both jobs and lives would be lost if white rule were suddenly to collapse. It is therefore the British Government's responsibility to help to prevent the collapse of order in South Africa.

Sanctions would hasten the collapse of that order. It is wrong to argue, as Mrs Thatcher does, that they would have no effect. They would have a harmful effect. They would increase Afrikaner extremism by throwing the Boers still further back upon their own resources. They would increase the hardship for workers (mainly black) in South Africa. At present, for example, General Motors employs more than 3,000 people in the Eastern Cape, and thousands more work in dependent indus- tries. The unemployment rate in the townships of New London or Uitenhage is more than 50 per cent as it is. How would General Motors' removal help anyone there? Sanctions would not assist reform. They would assist bloodshed and anarchy. This is what most of the professional opponents of apartheid now seem to want. They should not get British support. None of this means that Britain should praise apartheid, any more than it should praise Soviet communism, Iranian fundamental- ism or any of the numerous detestable doctrines propounded by the unfree major- ity of countries in the world with which she trades. But she should resist a policy of destruction.

The matter goes further than straightfor- ward self-interest. Although practical politicians have no messianic duty to en- sure that right prevails throughout the world, they do have a responsibility to try to conduct international affairs decently and in the best interests of peace. This `I told you this government was encoura- ging the small businessman.' cannot be done without a sane political language. If the Western powers do not speak this language, nobody else will. In the last 20 years, South Africa has become a totem round which fanatics and liberals have danced, muttering the incantations of political superstition. British governments have generally refused to join the dance, but they have smiled indulgently on it, hoping, like feeble parents, to give the impression that they would like to be joining in if only they were a little younger. Now the dance is becoming frenzied and the incantation a bloodthirsty shriek.

The political superstition is that a set of beliefs can be so wicked that every means to destroy its upholders is justified. No matter that thousands will die, no matter that millions will be poorer, no matter that- the consequences of the destruction are at best uncertain, apartheid must go. No matter that racial or religious prejudice is intrinsic to the systems of governments of several of the severest critics of apartheid: no matter that all black African countries are ruled by a predominant tribe oppres- sing a weaker one, that a Hindu stands little chance in Pakistan or a Tamil in Sri Lanka or a Jew in any of the Arab world, apartheid is uniquely evil. No matter that South Africa is just as much the invention and therefore the property of white people as Australia or Canada or the United States (all of which preferred the slaughter of the indigenous race to 'separate de- velopment'), delenda est apartheid.

This belief not only offends against reason and fairness. It is cruel. Like all political fanaticism, it elevates the 'princi- ple' over the fact. It dismisses all doubts about the likely effects of the policy as marks of weakness. The violence which, originally, it sanctimoniously professed to dread, it now delights in. It turns on persistent opposition and identifies it with the great Satan of apartheid (thus, Mr Ken Livingstone has explained that Mrs Thatcher is a 'racist' because she does not support sanctions). Having assented tepid- ly to the belief in the hope of a quiet life, Western governments then find themselves held to it, and castigated for their hesita- tion. The belief becomes part of the language of diplomacy, a compulsory part of the baggage negotiators have to carry with them on their missions to the Third World. It is a corrupt belief — that being on the right side is better than doing the right thing — and free nations should repudiate it.