Monday, 26 January 2015

Churchill in the 1950s : Iran - All The Shah's Men

"I have not become the King's First Minister in order to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire. ...

I am proud to be a member of that vast commonwealth and society of nations and communities gathered in and around the ancient British monarchy, without which the good cause might well have perished from the face of the earth. 

Here we are, and here we stand, a veritable rock of salvation in this drifting world...." 

-Winston Churchill, 1942


“Our policy was to get rid of Mossadeq as soon as possible.” 

Sir Donald Logan, 
British Embassy, 
Iran

In October 1952, the Iranian government closed down the British embassy, claiming – correctly – that certain intrigues were taking place there, and thus removing the cover for British covert activities. An MI6 and Foreign Office team met with the CIA in November and proposed the joint overthrow of the Iranian government based on Britain’s well-laid plans. British agents in Iran had been provided with a radio transmitter to maintain contact with MI6, while the head of the MI6 operation put the CIA in touch with other useful allies in the country.

British pay-offs had already secured the cooperation of senior officers of the army and police, deputies and senators, mullahs, merchants, newspaper editors and elder statesmen, as well as mob leaders. “These forces”, explained the MI6 agent in charge of the British end of the operation, “were to seize control of Tehran, preferably with the support of the Shah but if necessary without it, and to arrest Musaddiq and his ministers”.

On 3 February 1953 a British delegation met the CIA director and the US Secretary of State while the head of the CIA’s operation, Kermit Roosevelt, was dispatched to Iran to investigate the situation. On 18 March “the CIA was ready to discuss tactics in detail with us for the overthrow of Musaddiq” and it was formally agreed in April that General Zahidi was the acceptable candidate to replace him. By then, British and US agents were also involved in plans to kidnap key officials and political personalities. In one incident the Chief of Police was abducted, tortured and murdered.


The Shah's order (known as a firman) naming Zahedi the new prime minister. Coup operatives made copies of the document and circulated it around Tehran to help regenerate momentum following the collapse of the original plan. 

The CIA is conventionally regarded as the prime mover behind the 1953 coup. Yet the declassified British files show not only that Britain was the major instigator but also that British resources contributed significantly to it. Churchill once told the CIA agent responsible for the operation that he “would have loved nothing better than to have served under your command in this great venture”.




The coup in Iran, 1953

12feb07

The coup in Iran, 1953

By Mark Curtis

An edited extract from Web of Deceit: Britain’s Real Role in the World

“Our policy was to get rid of Mossadeq as soon as possible.” (Sir Donald Logan, British embassy, Iran)

In August 1953 a coup covertly organised by MI6 and the CIA overthrew Iran’s popular, nationalist government under Mohamed Musaddiq and installed the Shah in power. The Shah subsequently used widespread repression and torture to institute a dictatorship that lasted until the 1979 Islamic revolution. The Shah’s regime was given full political and economic backing by Britain and the US, including its most brutal component, the Savak secret police. The new Islamic leaders turned on the US and Britain, partly for their role in installing and propping up the previous regime for a quarter of a century.

The CIA is conventionally regarded as the prime mover behind the 1953 coup. Yet the declassified British files show not only that Britain was the major instigator but also that British resources contributed significantly to it. Churchill once told the CIA agent responsible for the operation that he “would have loved nothing better than to have served under your command in this great venture”.

Prelude to covert action

In the early 1950s the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (AIOC) – later renamed British Petroleum – which was managed from London and owned by the British government and British private citizens, controlled Iran’s main source of income: oil. According to one British official, the AIOC “has become in effect an imperium in imperio in Persia”. The AIOC was recognised as “a great foreign organisation controlling Persia’s economic life and destiny”.

Iranian nationalists objected to the fact that the AIOC’s revenues from Iranian oil were greater than the Iranian government’s, with profits amounting to £170 million in 1950 alone. The Iranian government was being paid royalties of l0-12 per cent of the company’s net proceeds, while the British government received as much as 30 per cent of these in taxes alone.

The British Minister of Fuel and Power explained that Iranians “are of course morally entitled to a royalty” for oil extraction but to say “that morally they are entitled to 50%, or…even more of the profits of enterprises to which they have made no contribution whatever, is bunk, and ought to be shown to be bunk”. Britain’s ambassador in Tehran commented: “It is so important to prevent the Persians from destroying their main source of revenue…by trying to run it themselves…The need for Persia is not to run the oil industry for herself (which she cannot do) but to profit from the technical ability of the West.”

Iranians could also point to the AIOC’s low wage rates and its effectively autonomous rule in the parts of the country where the oilhelds lay. Shown the overcrowded housing of some of the AIOC workers, a British official commented, “well, this is just the way all Iranians live”. The AIOC regarded Iranians as “merely wogs”.

Britain’s priority was to support political “stability” by aiding Iranian parliamentarians “to preserve the existing social order from which they profit so greatly” – as did British oil interests. One difference with the National Front (led by Musaddiq) was that its members were “comparatively free from the taint of having amassed wealth and influence through the improper use of official positions”, Britain’s ambassador in Iran privately admitted. Musaddiq had the support of the nationalists against the rich and corrupt. As prime minister he managed to break the grip over Iranian affairs exercised by the large landowners, wealthy merchants, the army and the civil service. Despite British public propaganda, Musaddiq’s government was generally democratic, popular, nationalist and anti-communist. British planners noted that, unfortunately, Musaddiq is “regarded by many of the ignorant as a messiah”.

But Musaddiq overstepped the mark, as far as Britain was concerned, in nationalising oil operations in May 1951. The following month the Attlee Labour government began plans to overthrow him, dispatching to Iran an Oxford lecturer provided with considerable sums of money.

In the dispute that followed, Musaddiq offered to compensate the AIOC but Britain demanded either a new oil concession or a settlement that would include compensation for loss of future profits. “In other words”, according to Iran scholar Homa Katouzian, “the Iranians would have had either to give up the spirit of the nationalisation or to compensate the AIOC not just for its investment but for all the oil which it would have produced in the next 40 years”.

Iran’s nationalisation and offer of compensation were perfectly legitimate in international law, but this was irrelevant to British planners. Britain did “not consider that a deal on acceptable terms can ever be made with” Musaddiq. Instead, the Foreign Office noted that “there is hope of a change which would bring moderate elements into control”.

The first step taken to remove the threat of independent development was stopping the production and export of oil, which deprived Iran of its main source of income until the 1953 coup. This was done in the knowledge that “the effect might be to bankrupt Persia thus possibly leading to revolution”. Other, mainly US, oil companies leant their support by refusing to handle Iranian oil, to prevent other oil-exporting countries learning a “bad” lesson from Iran’s example.

The second step was to begin covert planning. “It has been our objective for some time to get Sayyid Zia appointed Prime Minister”, the Foreign Office noted in September 195l. Zia had “no popular support” and his appointment “was likely to provoke a strong public reaction”, according to Iranian academic Fakhreddin Azimi. But to the Foreign Office Zia was “the one man who would be able and anxious to get a reasonable oil settlement with us” and promote Iran’s “future stability”.

A third option was direct military intervention, especially military occupation of the area around Abadan, the world’s largest oil refinery and centre of AIOC’s operations. According to the Foreign Secretary, this: “would demonstrate once and for all to the Persians British determination not to allow the…AIOC to be evicted from Persia and might well result in the downfall of the Mussadiq regime and its replacement by more reasonable elements prepared to negotiate a settlement…it might be expected to produce a salutary effect throughout the Middle East and elsewhere, as evidence that United Kingdom interests could not be recklessly molested with impunity”.

Plans were laid for war against Iran. But in the end the option was viewed by the Foreign Office as “quite impracticable” because it was believed that Iran would be able to resist the comparatively small number of troops that Britain could deploy. The US was also opposed to the British use of force, and President Truman sent a personal message to this effect to Attlee. Both the British Foreign Secretary and the Defence Minister favoured the use of military force to seize the oil installations. The option of military intervention was kept open until September 1951, when London finally decided to evacuate British personnel, and continue covert action, instead.

After winning the general election the following month, Churchill berated his predecessors “who had scuttled and run from Abadan when a splutter of musketry would have ended the matter”. “If we had fired the volley you were responsible for at Ismaila at Abadan” Churchill explained to his Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden, “none of these difficulties …would have occurred”. (The reference was to the British action at Ismaila, Egypt in January 1952. After Egyptian rebels assaulted a British military base, British soldiers occupied the town, surrounded the police headquarters, and proceeded to engage in a turkey shoot, killing fifty people and wounding a hundred before the surrender.)

A few months into his term, however, Churchill noted that “by sitting still on the safety valve and showing no weariness we are gradually getting them into submission”.

Preference for a dictator

Britain’s aim was to install “a more reasonable government”, Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden explained. “Our policy”, a British official later recalled, “was to get rid of Mossadeq as soon as possible”. An adviser at the British embassy, Colonel Wheeler, explained that “a change of government could almost certainly be effected without difficulty or disturbance”. So by November, a Foreign Office official could report that the “unofficial efforts to undermine Dr Mussadiq are making good progress”.
After the failure of the oil negotiations, the main British negotiator advised the Shah that the “only solution” was “a strong government under martial law and the bad boys in prison for two years or so”. Britain’s ambassador in Tehran agreed, noting that “if only the Shah can be induced to take a strong line there is a good chance that Musaddiq may be got rid of”. The new government should then “take drastic action against individual extremists”.

With 1952 came Britain’s preference for “a non-communist coup d’etat preferably in the name of the Shah”. It was clearly understood by the British embassy in Tehran that “this would mean an authoritarian regime”.

British planners had no illusions about the Shah. They noted that “the chief complaint of his political critics [is] that he wishes to monopolise power for himself”. Neither did he “sufficiently check the members of his family and their entourage from interference in politics and their profitable incursions into business”.

As with the secret planning in Indonesia in 1965, Britain supported the establishment of a strong-arm dictatorship in the face of popular, nationalist alternatives. A coup could be successful, planners noted, “provided always a strong man can be found equal to the task”. This “strong man” would “rule in the name of the Shah”. The files show that the ambassador in Tehran preferred “a dictator”, who “would carry out the necessary administrative and economic reforms and settle the oil question on reasonable terms”.

The Foreign Office stated who such a reasonable new strongman might be: General Zahidi, who was to become Prime Minister after the coup. Zahedi had spent much of the war in prison in Palestine after being arrested for pro-Nazi activities by the British authorities. He was known as ruthless and manipulative and had twice been chief of police in Tehran. British officials now began to talk to him about providing £10-20 million to the Iranian treasury on his taking power.

By March 1952, the British embassy was lamenting that the Iranian army was “unlikely to take overt action against Musadiq” but that its attitude might become “more positive”. The Shah was also reported to be resisting British pressures to act but the British “made it abundantly clear that we desire the fall of Musaddiq as soon as possible”.

British embassy official Sam Falle met Zahidi on 6 August and recorded the latter to be prepared to take on the premiership. Falle suggested that Zahidi make this known to the US. The ambassador confirmed that Zahidi “will make his own contacts with [the] American embassy and does not wish to appear to be our candidate”.

In October 1952, the Iranian government closed down the British embassy, claiming – correctly – that certain intrigues were taking place there, and thus removing the cover for British covert activities. An MI6 and Foreign Office team met with the CIA in November and proposed the joint overthrow of the Iranian government based on Britain’s well-laid plans. British agents in Iran had been provided with a radio transmitter to maintain contact with MI6, while the head of the MI6 operation put the CIA in touch with other useful allies in the country.

British pay-offs had already secured the cooperation of senior officers of the army and police, deputies and senators, mullahs, merchants, newspaper editors and elder statesmen, as well as mob leaders. “These forces”, explained the MI6 agent in charge of the British end of the operation, “were to seize control of Tehran, preferably with the support of the Shah but if necessary without it, and to arrest Musaddiq and his ministers”.

On 3 February 1953 a British delegation met the CIA director and the US Secretary of State while the head of the CIA’s operation, Kermit Roosevelt, was dispatched to Iran to investigate the situation. On 18 March “the CIA was ready to discuss tactics in detail with us for the overthrow of Musaddiq” and it was formally agreed in April that General Zahidi was the acceptable candidate to replace him. By then, British and US agents were also involved in plans to kidnap key officials and political personalities. In one incident the Chief of Police was abducted, tortured and murdered.

The final go-ahead for the coup was given by the US in late June. Britain had by then already presented a “complete plan” to the CIA. Churchill’s authorisation soon followed and the date was set for mid-August. That month, Kermit Roosevelt met the Shah, the CIA director visited some members of the Shah’s family in Switzerland, and a US army general arrived in Tehran to meet the Shah and General Zahidi.

The signal for the coup scenario to begin had been arranged with the BBC; the latter agreed to begin its Persian language news broadcast not with the usual “it is now midnight in London”, but instead with “it is now exactly midnight”. On hearing these broadcasts the Shah fled the country and signed two blank decrees to be filled in at the right time, one dismissing Musaddiq, the other appointing Zahedi as prime minister.
Huge demonstrations took place in the streets of Tehran, funded by CIA and MI6 money; $1 million was in a safe in the US embassy and £1.5 million had been delivered by Britain to its agents in Iran, according to the MI6 officer responsible. According to then CIA agent Richard Cottam, “that mob that came into north Tehran and was decisive in the overthrow was a mercenary mob. It had no ideology. That mob was paid for by American dollars and the amount of money that was used has to have been very large”.

One key aspect of the plot was to portray the demonstrating mobs as supporters of the Iranian Communist Party – Tudeh – to provide a suitable pretext for the coup and the Shah’s taking control in the name of anti-communism. Agents working for the British posed as Tudeh supporters, engaging in activities such as throwing rocks at mosques and priests.

Roosevelt, the head of the CIA operation, sent envoys to the commanders of some provincial armies, encouraging them to move on to Tehran. In the fighting in the capital, 300 people were killed before Musaddiq’s supporters were defeated by the Shah’s forces. A US general later testified that “the guns they had in their hands, the trucks they rode in, the armoured cars that they drove through the streets, and the radio communications that permitted their control, were all furnished through the [US] military defence assistance program”.

The British input, however, had also been significant. One agent of the British – Shahpour Reporter, who subsequently served as adviser to the Shah – was rewarded with a knighthood, before becoming a chief middleman for British arms sales to Iran, in particular for the manufacturers of Chieftain tanks and Rapier missiles. Two years after the coup, the head of the MI6 end of the operation became director of the Royal Institute of International Affairs, one of Britain’s leading research institutes.

As in every other British and US military intervention until the collapse of the USSR, the “communist threat” scenario was deployed as the Official Story. Much subsequent academic work and media commentary plays to the same tune. The real threat of nationalism (and dirtier aims like protecting oil profits) were downplayed or removed from the picture presented to the public. In the words of a secret Foreign Office telegram to the embassy in Washington: “It is essential at all costs that His Majesty’s Government should avoid getting into a position where they could be represented as a capitalist power attacking a Nationalist Persia.”

There are two variants to the Official Story. The first is that the coup was a response to an impending takeover by the Communist Party, Tudeh – which had close contacts with the Soviet Union – and therefore prevented the establishment of a Soviet-backed regime. The second is that Tudeh was in the ascendancy within Musaddiq’s government. Both variants are plainly false.

In September 1952 the British ambassador recognised that the Tudeh “have played a largely passive role, content to let matters take their course with only general encouragement from the sidelines…they have not been a major factor in the development of the Mussadiq brand of nationalism”. The US embassy stated three months before the coup that “there was little evidence that in recent months the Tudeh had gained in popular strength, although its steady infiltration of the Iranian government and other institutions [had] continued”.

As for Tudeh attempting a coup, a State Department intelligence report noted that an open Tudeh move for power “would probably unite independents and non-communists of all political leanings and would result…in energetic efforts to destroy the Tudeh by force”. As Iranian scholar Fakhreddin Azimi has pointed out, the seizure of power by means of a coup was not part of Tudeh strategy, and it was also unlikely that the Russians would anyway have endorsed such a move. The deliberate funding of demonstrators posing as Tudeh supporters also gives the game away as to how seriously the communist threat was actually feared.

In their secret planning, the British deliberately played up the communist threat scenario to the Americans to persuade them to help overthrow Musaddiq. One file notes that, in proposing the overthrow of Musaddiq to the Americans, “we could say that, although we naturally wish to reach an oil settlement eventually, we appreciate that the first and most important objective is to prevent Persia going communist”. The MI6 agent believed “the Americans would be more likely to work with us if they saw the problem as one of containing communism rather than restoring the position of the AIOC”.

“I owe my throne to God, my people, my army – and to you”, the Shah told the head of the CIA operation responsible for installing him; by “you” he meant the US and Britain.

Now that a “dictator” had been installed in line with Foreign Office wishes, stability could be restored, initially under the favoured candidate prime minister, General Zahidi. An agreement the following year established a new oil consortium that controlled the production, pricing and export of Iranian oil. This provided Britain and the US with a 40 per cent interest each. Indeed, the 40 per cent figure for the US was the price Britain secretly (and grudgingly) agreed to pay the US in exchange for US help in overthrowing Musaddiq. Britain’s share was thus reduced from the complete control it had prior to Musaddiq; but it had prevented the danger that Iranians might use oil primarily to benefit themselves. The US gain of a significant stake in Iranian oil showed the new relative power of the partners in the special relationsh



Have the British Been Meddling with the FRUS Retrospective Volume on 1953?

Foreign Office Worried over “Very Embarrassing” Revelations, Documents Show

The United Kingdom sought to expunge "very embarrassing" information about its role in the 1953 coup in Iran from the official U.S. history of the period, British documents confirm. The Foreign Office feared that a planned State Department publication would undermine U.K. standing in Iran, according to declassified records posted on the National Security Archive's Web site today.

The British censorship attempt happened in 1978, but London's concerns may play a role even today in holding up the State Department's long-awaited history - even though U.S. law required its publication years ago.

The declassified documents, from the Foreign Office (Foreign and Commonwealth Office since 1968), shed light on a protracted controversy over crucial gaps in the State Department's authoritative Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS) series. The blank spots on Iran involve the CIA- and MI6-backed plot to overthrow the country's prime minister, Mohammad Mosaddeq. Six decades after his ouster, some signs point to the CIA as the culprit for refusing to allow basic details about the event to be incorporated into the FRUS compilation.[1]

Recently, the CIA has declassified a number of records relating to the 1953 coup, including a version of an internal history that specifically states the agency planned and helped implement the coup. (The National Security Archive obtained the documents through the U.S. Freedom of Information Act.) This suggests that ongoing CIA inflexibility over the FRUS volume is not so much a function of the agency's worries about its own role being exposed as a function of its desire to protect lingering British sensitivities about 1953 - especially regarding the activities of U.K. intelligence services. There is also evidence that State Department officials have been just as anxious to shield British interests over the years.

Regardless of the reasons for this continued secrecy, an unfortunate consequence of withholding these materials is to guarantee that American (and world) public understanding of this pivotal episode will remain distorted. Another effect is to keep the issue alive in the political arena, where it is regularly exploited by circles in Iran opposed to constructive ties with the United States.

Background on FRUS and the Mosaddeq Period

By statute, the FRUS series is required to present "a thorough, accurate, and reliable documentary record" of American foreign policy.[2] That law came about partly as a consequence of the failure of the original volume covering the Mosaddeq period (published in 1989) to mention the U.S. role in his overthrow. The reaction of the scholarly community and interested public was outrage. Prominent historian Bruce Kuniholm, a former member of State's Policy Planning Staff, called the volume "a fraud."[3]

The full story of the scandal has been detailed elsewhere,[4] but most observers blamed the omission on the intelligence community (IC) for refusing to open its relevant files. In fact, the IC was not alone. Senior Department officials joined in opposing requests for access to particular classified records by the Historical Advisory Committee (HAC), the group of independent scholars charged with advising the Department's own Office of the Historian.[5] The head of the HAC, Warren Cohen, resigned in protest in 1990 citing his inability to ensure the integrity of the FRUS series. Congress became involved and, in a display of bipartisanship that would be stunning today (Democratic Senator Daniel P. Moynihan getting Republican Jesse Helms to collaborate), lawmakers passed a bill to prevent similar historical distortions. As Cohen and others pointed out, while Moscow was disgorging its scandalous Cold War secrets, Washington was taking a distinctly Soviet approach to its own history.[6]

By 1998, State's historians and the HAC had decided to produce a "retrospective" volume on the Iran coup that would help to correct the record. They planned other volumes to cover additional previously airbrushed covert activities (in Guatemala, the Congo, etc.). It was a promising step, yet 15 years later, while a couple of publications have materialized, several others have not - including the Iran volume.[7]

Institutional Delays

A review of the available minutes of HAC meetings makes it apparent that over the past decade multiple policy, bureaucratic, and logistical hurdles have interfered with progress. Some of these are routine, even inevitable - from the complications of multi-agency coordination to frequent personnel changes. Others are more specific to the realm of intelligence, notably a deep-seated uneasiness in parts of the CIA over the notion of unveiling putative secrets.

In the Fall of 2001, an ominous development for the HO gave a sense of where much of the power lay in its relationship with the CIA. According to notes of a public HAC meeting in October 2001, the CIA, on instructions from the Director of Central Intelligence, decided unilaterally "that there could be no new business" regarding FRUS until the two sides signed an MOU. Agency officials said the document would address legitimate IC concerns; HAC members worried it would mainly boost CIA control over the series. The agency specifically held up action on four volumes to make its point, while HAC historians countered that the volumes were being "held hostage" and the HO was being forced to work "under the threat of 'blackmail'."[8]

The CIA held firm and an agreement emerged in May 2002 that, at least from available information, appears to bend over backwards to give the IC extraordinary safeguards without offering much reassurance about key HO interests. For instance, the MOU states that the CIA must "meet HO's statutory requirement" - hardly something that seems necessary to spell out. At the same time, it allows the CIA to review materials not once, but again even after a manuscript has passed through formal declassification, and once more after it is otherwise in final form and ready for printing. In the context of the disputed Iran volume, HAC members worried about the "random" nature of these provisions which gave the agency "a second bite at the apple."[9] The implication is that the CIA will feel little obligation to help meet the HO's legal requirement if it believes its own "equities" are at stake. (This of course may still affect the Iran volume, currently scheduled for 2014 publication.)

Is It the British?

As mentioned, the CIA has begun to release documentation in recent years making explicit its connection to the Mosaddeq overthrow. Even earlier, by 2002, the State Department and CIA jointly began compiling an Iran retrospective volume. These are not signs of a fundamental institutional unwillingness to publish American materials on the coup (although parts of the CIA continued to resist the notion). The HO even tried at least twice previously to organize a joint project with the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office on Iran, but the idea evidently went nowhere.[10]

In 2004, two years later, the State Department's designated historian finished compiling the volume. According to that historian, he included a number of records obtained from research at the then-Public Record Office in London. Among his findings was "material that documents the British role." He added that he had also located State Department records "that illustrate the British role."[11] By no later than June 2006, the Iran volume had entered the declassification queue. At the June 2006 HAC session, CIA representatives said "they believed the committee would be satisfied with the [declassification] reviews."

Up to that point, the agency's signals seemed generally positive about the prospects of making public previously closed materials. But in the six years since, no Iran volume has emerged. Even State's committee of historians apparently has never gotten a satisfactory explanation as to why.[12]

When the IC withholds records, "sources and methods" are often the excuse. The CIA is loath to release anything it believes would reveal how the agency conducts its activities. (For many years, the CIA kept secret the fact that it used balloons to drop leaflets over Eastern Europe during the Cold War, and would not confirm or deny whether it compiled biographical sketches of Communist leaders.) On the other hand, clandestine operations have been named in more than 20 other FRUS publications.[13] One of these was the retrospective volume on PBSUCCESS, the controversial overthrow of Jacobo Arbenz in Guatemala in 1954. Furthermore, the agency has released troubling materials such as assassination manuals that demonstrate how to murder political opponents using anything from "edge weapons" to "bare hands." In 2007, in response to a 15-year-old National Security Archive FOIA request, the CIA finally released its file of "family jewels" detailing an assortment of infamous activities. from planning to poison foreign leaders to conducting illegal surveillance on American journalists.

If the agency felt it could part with such high-profile sources and methods information, along with deeply embarrassing revelations about itself, why not in the Iran case? Perhaps the British are just saying no, and their American counterparts are quietly going along.

State Department Early Warning - 1978

The FCO documents in this posting (Documents 22-35) strongly support this conclusion. Theytell a fascinating story of transatlantic cooperation and diplomatic concern at a turbulent time. It was a State Department official who first alerted the FCO to plans by the Department's historians to publish an official account of the 1953 coup period. The Department's Iran expert warned that the records could have "possibly damaging consequences" not only for London but for the Shah of Iran, who was fighting for survival as he had 25 years earlier (Document 22). Two days later, FCO officials began to pass the message up the line that "very embarrassing things about the British" were likely to be in the upcoming FRUS compilation (Document 23). FCO officials reported that officers on both the Iran and Britain desks at State were prepared to help keep those materials out of the public domain, at least for the time being (Document 33). Almost 35 years later, those records are still inaccessible. 

The British government's apparent unwillingness to acknowledge what the world already knows is difficult for most outsiders to understand. It becomes positively baffling when senior public figures who are fully aware of the history have already acknowledged London's role. In 2009, former Foreign Secretary Jack Straw publicly remarked on Britain's part in toppling Mosaddeq, which he categorized as one of many outside "interferences" in Iranian affairs in the last century.[14] Yet, present indications are that the U.K. government is not prepared to release either its own files or evidently to approve the opening of American records that might help bring some degree of closure to this protracted historic - and historiographical - episode.

(Jump to the British documents)

NOTES

[1] A recent article drawing attention to the controversy is Stephen R. Weissman, "Why is U.S. Withholding Old Documents on Covert Ops in Congo, Iran?"  The Christian Science Monitor, March 25, 2011. (http://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/Opinion/2011/0325/Why-is-US-withholding-old-documents-on-covert-ops-in-Congo-Iran )

[2] Section 198, Public Law 102-138.

[3] Bruce Kuniholm, "Foreign Relations, Public Relations, Accountability, and Understanding," American Historical Association, Perspectives, May-June 1990.

[4] In addition to the Kuniholm and Weissman items cited above, see also Stephen R. Weissman, "Censoring American Diplomatic History," American Historical Association, Perspectives on History, September 2011.

[5] Joshua Botts, Office of the Historian, U.S. Department of State, "'A Burden for the Department'?: To The 1991 FRUS Statute," February 6, 2012,  http://history.state.gov/frus150/research/to-the-1991-frus-statute.

[6] Editorial, "History Bleached at State," The New York Times, May 16, 1990.

[7] Retrospective compilations on Guatemala (2003) and the intelligence community (2007) during the 1950s have appeared; collections on the Congo and Chile are among those that have not.

[8] HAC minutes, October 15-16, 2001, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/october-2001.

[9] HAC minutes, July 22-23, 2002, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/july-2002; and December 14-15, 2009, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/december-2009.

[10] HAC minutes, July 22-23, 2002, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/july-2002.

[11]HAC minutes, March 6-7, 2006, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/march-2006.

[12] See HAC minutes for July 12-13, 2004, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/july-2004; September 20-21, 2004, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/september-2004; September 8-9, 2008, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/september-2008; for example.

[13] Comments of then-FRUS series editor Edward Keefer at the February 26-27, 2007, HAC meeting, http://history.state.gov/about/hac/february-2007.

[14] Quoted in Souren Melikian, "Show Ignores Essential Questions about Iranian King's Role," The International Herald Tribune, February 21, 2009.


Churchill in the 1950s : The "Mau-Mau" Uprising

"I have not become the King's First Minister in order to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire. ...

I am proud to be a member of that vast commonwealth and society of nations and communities gathered in and around the ancient British monarchy, without which the good cause might well have perished from the face of the earth. 

Here we are, and here we stand, a veritable rock of salvation in this drifting world...." -Winston Churchill, 1942


"Frank Kitson's book will be of special interest to those of us who served in Kenya during the Mau Mau rebellion since few people could be told at the time of the special operations developed by him. But there are many lessons in his story which will be of equal interest to those whose business it is to study or take part in the restoration of law and order. The British Army has been kept busy with that kind of work in recent years.

Global war is an international affair and it is in the international field that our statesmen will strive to reach agreement to reduce the likelihood of such a calamity. But keeping control in our Colonies and Protectorates is our own affair. The likelihood of military support to our Colonial administration must be rated high.

In Africa alone there are vast areas which under our guidance are moving towards a greater degree of self government. We are deliberately moving the responsibility more and more on to the shoulders of the local inhabitants. This involves risks to law and order which must be accepted if these people are to move from the benevolent autocracy of good Colonial administration to independence, with all the dangers, disturbances and upheavals which such a change entails.

If this change is to be made smoothly, with firm foundations laid for the future, the timing must be controlled. The Colonial administration must not be stampeded into making the change because its administration has become so weak it cannot resist. It would be the worst possible service to the people of Africa to give independence against a background of confusion.

If the Army is required to intervene it should try to do so in such a way that it does not prejudice the natural progressive development of the territory. No lasting results will be obtained by the unintelligent use of force in all directions. Measures must be designed to support and protect the loyal members of the community and to round up the real trouble-makers who have resorted to force and lawlessness. If this can be done fairly and justly you will get the support of the waverers and the battle is half won. But to do this you must have a very good intelligence service. You must not be surprised to find that it is inadequate and your first task should be to build up."

General Sir George Erskine G.C.B, K.B.E, D.S.O


The Mau Mau War in Kenya, 1952-60

Short rations, overwork, brutality, humiliating and disgusting treatment and flogging – all in violation of the United Nations Universal Declaration on Human Rights. (A former officer in a British detention camp, Kenya, 1954-5)
Britain declared a state of emergency in Kenya in 1952 and sent military to quell a rebellion by the Mau Mau movement. This was comprised predominantly of Kikuyu, the largest Kenyan ethnic group, who were among the most exploited of the poor under colonial rule. The Attorney General in the Kenyan colonial government called Mau Mau “a secret underground nationalistic organisation which is virulently anti-European”. A government-sponsored report on the origins of Mau Mau noted that it was “the violent manifestation of a limited revolutionary movement” and that “it was no sudden uprising” but the result of “a long period of political unrest among the Kikuyu people of Kenya”.
Mau Mau was the violent, nationalist expression of revolt against British colonial repression. “The causes of the revolt”, David Maughan-Brown writes in an extensively documented study of Mau Mau, were “socio-economic and political and amounted, to put it crudely, to the economic exploitation and administrative repression of the Kikuyu by the white settlers and the colonial state”. It was a militant response “to years of frustration at the refusal of the colonial government to redress grievances over land or to listen to demands for constitutional reform”; and a “peasants revolt triggered off by the declaration of the state of emergency and the eviction of the squatters from the farms on the White Highlands”, the most arable land in Kenya. Mau Mau demands were for the return of the “stolen” land and self-government.
The planning files clearly recognise that Mau Mau received no material support from elsewhere, and was decidely not communist. “There is no evidence that communism or communist agents have had any direct or indirect part in the organisation or direction of the Mau Mau itself, or its activities”, a Colonial Office report stated. The British were unfortunately unable to present the rebels of being part of the international communist conspiracy. They therefore presented them as straight out of the heart of darkness – as gangsters who indulged in cannibalism, witchcraft, devil worship and sexual orgies and who terrorised white settlers and mutilated women and children. This deceit conveniently masked the Mau Mau’s true struggle as a political and economic one mainly over land.
Britain had established in Kenya a system of institutionalised racism and exploitation of the indigenous population. It was estimated that half of the urban workers in private industry and one quarter of those in public services received wages too low to provide for their basic needs. As late as 1960 – three years before independence – Africans, who made up 90 per cent of the workforce, accounted for only 45 per cent of the total wage bill. A crucial aspect of the colonial economy was the taxation system which increased poverty and dependence in the reserves allocated to Africans by a net drain of resources out of them.
The Governor of Kenya explained the racist policy to the Colonial Secretary in 1955: “Up to 1923, the policy of segregation as between Europeans and other immigrant races followed as a measure of sanitation. The White Paper of 1923 recommended ‘as a sanitation measure, [that] segregation of Europeans and Asiatics is not absolutely essential for the preservation of the health of community’, but that for the present it was considered desirable to keep residential quarters of natives, so far as practicable, separate from those of immigrant races”.
These “residential quarters” for the “natives” – ie, the population – were, the Governor explained, “behind anything that I have seen elsewhere on the continent”. This was the situation at home for the nearly 100,000 Kenyan Africans who had fought on Britain’s side in the Second World War. It was, the Governor explained, a result of Britain’s “determination to persevere in the task to which we have set our minds – to civilise a great mass of human beings who are in a very primitive moral and social state”. In reality, the ideology and institutions of the British settlers and colonial state in Kenya closely resembled the fascist movements of the years between the First and Second World Wars.
Land ownership was the clearest example of inequity and exploitation. The white settlers, who comprised a miniscule 0.7 per cent of the population, owned 20 per cent of the best land in Kenya, the White Highlands. This meant that fewer than 30,000 whites owned more arable land than 1 million Kikuyu. The colony’s function was to produce primary products for export and because settler agricultural production depended on the availability of labour, it was essential for a large portion of the African peasantry to be deprived of their own land and forced onto the labour market. By 1945 there were over 200,000 registered African squatters in the White Highlands, over half of whom were Kikuyu. Called “’resident native’ labourers”, they performed tasks as “a cheap, malleable and readily accessible African labour force”.
The major African nationalist political group opposed to British rule was the Kenya African Union (KAU), which noted: “The chief characteristic of all labour – skilled or not… is the low wages obtaining in Kenya… The greatest problem which requires urgent consideration is that of the old man and woman who cannot perform hard manual labour. The settlers simply turn them off their land -rightly according to law… The greater majority of the dying Africans and those suffering from malnutrition accrues as an upshot of the meagre allowances that our people earn. Due to this, ninety per cent of our people live in the most deplorable conditions ever afforded to a human being.” The KAU referred to the squatter system as a “new slavery” and explained that “modern serfdom has come into being as cheap labour can be found everywhere in the colony”.
British officials thought about things rather differently. In a 1945 report the colonial government noted that: “The principal item in the natural resources of Kenya is the land, and in this term we include the colony’s mineral resources. It seems to us that our major objective must clearly be the preservation and the wise use of this most important asset.”
The Deputy Governor explained: “It is of greatest importance on all grounds of Imperial policy and for the future well being and prosperity of the native people that there should be a vigorous and well established British settlement in these highlands, for without it there is no hope of successfully overcoming the immense problems which confront us in this part of the world and of erecting here a permanent structure of enlightenment and civilisation.”
The following year, the Governor declared in an after-dinner speech that “the greater part of the wealth of the country is at present in our hands…This land we have made is our land by right – by right of achievement”. He explained to the Africans that “their Africa has gone for ever”, since they were now living in “a world which we have made, under the humanitarian impulses of the late nineteenth and the twentieth century”. The Governor added: “We appear to Africans as being immensely wealthy and nearly all of them are in fact very poor…. But these are social and economic differences and the problems of this country in that respect are social and economic and not political; nor are they to be solved by political devices.” Britain was in Kenya “as of right, the product of historical events which reflect the greatest glory of our fathers and grandfathers”.
In fact, Britain had engaged in mass slaughter to subjugate Kenya. Winston Churchill referred in 1908 to one expedition by stating that “surely it cannot be necessary to go on killing these defenceless people on such an enormous scale”. The governor was using a traditional pretext for pursuing terrible policies – “humanitarian impulses” – a strategy well taken up by the missionaries of new Labour.

Curbing the threat of nationalism

Unfortunately for the champions of “enlightenment and civilisation”, Africans were indeed engaging in politics. In standard history, the declaration of the state of emergency in October 1952 is viewed as a response to Mau Mau terrorism which was getting increasingly out of control. Britain is usually portrayed as a noble defender of human rights. In reality the declaration was more a cause of the war. Moreover, the declassified files show that the declaration was intended to stamp out popular, nationalist political forces demanding land reform and self-government – the threat of independent development.
In the year previous to October 1952, there had actually been fewer murders and serious injuries than in previous years. A few days before the declaration – on 15 October – the Governor cabled London saying that in the previous week “there had been some falling off in crimes, both Mau Mau and otherwise”. Yet two days later he confirmed that the declaration would take effect from 20 October. The declaration itself prompted an increase in these crimes.
The real problem for the colonial government was the increasing popularity of KAU leaders, especially Jomo Kenyatta, who were drawing ever larger numbers of people to their public meetings. Radical trade unionists were taking control of the country’s unions as the KAU gradually extended its influence throughout the country. The Governor explained to London that the plans for the declaration of the emergency might appear “excessive” but “Kenyatta has succeeded in building up right under the nose of authority a powerful organisation affecting all sides of life among the Kikuyu”. Two months prior to the declaration, a colonial official noted that recent large KAU meetings had been coupled with a “serious increase of Mau Mau activities … in each area where [Kenyatta] spoke”. One meeting had been “attended by twenty to thirty thousand people, who were so excited and truculent that the preservation of law and order hung upon a thread”. “We decided”, the official noted, “that we would be wrong to allow any further meetings of the KAU”.
Another official noted that at recent KAU meetings at which Kenyatta had been the key speaker, “large crowds have attended and treated him and his utterances with enthusiastic respect”. Even worse was that the KAU and other groups were “demanding…the ‘return’ of the White Highlands to the Kikuyu and self-government on the Gold Coast model”.
The answer, the Governor declared a few days before the declaration, was that “we must remove Kenyatta and several of his henchmen during the next few weeks”. The Attorney-General explained that Kenyatta and his associates should not be released from prison at the end of the emergency but be “kept in custody for a very substantial period of years”. He further noted that “one of the principal reasons” for declaring a state of emergency “would be to enable us to make detention orders against the leading African agitators”.
The state of emergency was declared and the authorities jailed dozens of KAU leaders and every branch chairman who was not already in jail. In seeking to justify the repression of the popular nationalists, British authorities needed to portray Kenyatta as the instigator of the Mau Mau movement. The only problem was that Kenyatta had consistently denounced it. At one meeting, the Attorney-General observed Kenyatta publicly condemning Mau Mau, while the 30,000 Kikuyu present at the meeting held up their hands to “signify that they approved of his denunciation of Mau Mau”. At his subsequent trial, Kenyatta was sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment as a result of what the defending counsel called “the most childishly weak case made against any man in any important trial in the history of the British empire”, one that was patently trumped up to dispose of the country’s leading nationalist.

Human rights, colonial style

The situation in Kenya resembled Malaya four years earlier: with the political road to reform blocked by Britain, just grievances found their expression in increasing violence. The subsequent war resulted in atrocities being committed by both Mau Mau and government forces (as in Malaya) but with far greater brutality by the latter. The sheer number of deaths at the hands of the government forces shows that there was a extensive shoot-to-kill policy and that killings were conducted with impunity. Colonial government forces killed around 10,000 Africans. By contrast, the Mau Mau killed 590 members of the security forces, 1,819 Africans, and only 32 European and 26 Asian civilians. More white settlers were killed in road accidents in Nairobi during the emergency than by Mau Mau.
Some British army battalions kept scoreboards recording kills, and gave £5 rewards for the first sub-unit to kill an insurgent. One army captain was quoted as informing a sergeant-major that “he could shoot anybody he liked provided they were black”. Frank Kitson, a senior army officer and “counter-insurgency” expert who would later apply his skills to Northern Ireland, once commented: “three Africans appeared walking down the track towards us: a perfect target. Unfortunately they were policemen”.
A Channel 4 documentary made in 1999 – offering a rare glimpse by the media into the reality of the British war – referred to “free fire zones” where: “Any African could be shot on sight… Rewards were offered to the units that produced the largest number of Mau Mau corpses, the hands of which were chopped off to make fingerprinting easier. Settlements suspected of harbouring Mau Mau were burned and Mau Mau suspects were tortured for information”.
The British also resorted to dictatorial police measures: 153,000 arrests, for example, were made in the first fourteen months of the war. But it was the methods used by the police that were particularly vile. There was “a constant stream of reports of brutalities by police, military and home guards”, noted Canon Bewes, of the Church Missionary Society, following a visit. These brutalities included slicing off ears, boring holes in eardrums, flogging until death, pouring paraffin over suspects who were then set alight, and burning eardrums with lit cigarettes. “Some of the people”, Bewes noted, “had been using castrating instruments and…in one instance two men had died under castration”. A metal castrating instrument “had also been reported as being used to clamp onto the fingers of people who were unwilling to give information and…if the information was not given the tips of the fingers were cut off”. Bewes stated that there were also a number of cases of rape perpetrated by the army. A Kenyan police team sent to the neighbouring colony of Tanganyika to “screen” Kikuyu there were found guilty by the Tanganyikan authorities of “violence, in the form of whipping on the soles of the feet, burning with lighted cigarettes and tying leather thongs round the neck and dragging the victims along the ground”. Of the 170-200 interrogated, “at least 32 were badly injured”.
A former district officer recently admitted: “There was outright abuse of power and some of the crimes committed were horrific. One day six Mau Mau suspects were brought into a police station in the neighbouring district to mine. The British police inspector in charge lined them up against a wall and shot them. There was no trial.” Asked if he thought whether colonial forces committed human rights violations, he replied: “If throwing a phosphorous grenade into a thatched hut with a sleeping family inside isn’t a human rights abuse then I don’t know what is”.
Between 1952 and 1956, 1,015 people were hanged, 297 for murder and 559 for unlawful possession of arms or administering the Mau Mau oath. There was widespread beating and torture of suspects, defendants rarely had a chance to prepare their case and judges were racially biased in their evaluation of evidence. There were mass trials of up to 50 men with numbers around their necks; in most of these, groups of 10 to 20 men went to the gallows together. “There was appalling abuse of human rights at all stages of the legal process”, notes David Anderson of the University of London. A mobile gallows was transported around the country dispensing “justice” to Mau Mau suspects, while dead rebels, especially commanders, were often displayed at cross-roads and market places.
The Governor of Kenya even proposed that the death penalty be applied to people who were merely helping the insurgents, whether directly or indirectly, and to those committing acts of sabotage. This was too much even for the Colonial Secretary, who noted that this definition would be so broad that the death penalty “would be applicable to deliberate obstruction by motorist of baker’s van delivering bread to military unit or to intentional puncturing of sanitary inspector’s bicycle [sic]“.
By the mid-1950s the scale of atrocities was so great that news stories by the foreign press based in Nairobi reached London. A parliamentary delegation visited Kenya in 1954 and found that “brutality and malpractices by the police have occurred on a scale which constitutes a threat to public confidence in the forces of law and order”. The following year the Labour MP Barbara Castle visited Kenya to investigate government involvement in torture and killings and concluded that the entire system of justice in Kenya had a “Nazi” attitude towards Africans: “In the heart of the British empire there is a police state where the rule of law has broken down, where murders and tortures of Africans go unpunished and where the authorities pledged to enforce justice regularly connive at its violation”.
As in Malaya, the key aspect of British repression in Kenya were “resettlement” operations that forced 90,000 Kikuyu into detention camps surrounded by barbed wire and troops, and the compulsory “villageisation” of the Kikuyu reserves. The Kikuyus’ livestock was confiscated and many were subjected to forced labour. “Villageisation” meant the destruction of formerly scattered homesteads and the erection of houses in fortified camps to replace them. This meant a traumatic break from the traditional Kikuyu way of life. Even when not accompanied, as it often was, by 23-hour curfews, it resulted in widespread famine and death. In total, around 150,000 Africans lost their lives due to the war, most dying of disease and starvation in the “protected villages”.
Shortly after the “emergency” was declared, the Governor issued an order allowing the government to detain whomever it liked in a concentration camp for an indefinite period. In these camps, the inmates were classified as “blacks” if they were Mau Mau officials or supporters, “greys” if they were suspected of being such with no evidence, and “whites” if they had no Mau Mau connections (the latter were subsequently released). Diseases spread in the camps. The declassified files report on one having over 400 typhoid cases, with around 90 people dying as a result. The colonial government reported: “The sudden confinement of thousands of Africans behind barb wire has set very considerable and difficult medical problems. This has been aggravated by the fact that of necessity there has been little distinction between the fit and the unfit when the question of detention is being considered. Consequently, infectious disease has been introduced into the camps from the start.”
Historian V.G.Kiernan comments that the camps “were probably as bad as any similar Nazi or Japanese establishments”. Brutality by the warders was systematic. One former officer noted that “Japanese methods of torture” were being practised by one camp commandant. A former officer in one of the detention camps in 1954-5 exposed routine “short rations, overwork, brutality, humiliating and disgusting treatment and flogging – all in violation of the United Nations Universal Declaration on Human Rights”. In one camp, he said: “The detainees were being systematically ill-treated, underfed, overworked and flogged by the Security Officer… The women and children, in conditions of severe overcrowding, were sleeping on the bare stone or wooden floors as the Commandant had forbidden them to construct beds… The lavatories were merely large pits in the ground… with the excreta lapping over the top.
At another camp, where forced labour was practised, “one European officer made the detainees work at pointless hard labour tasks 12 hours a day”. The commandant was seen “punching and kicking detainees” and, on the orders of a European officer, warders were “sent into one of the compounds… with orders to ‘beat up’ the detainees. This they proceeded to do with sticks, lumps of wood and whips. Several European officers…joined in the beating”. The order had been given “for no apparent reason”. “Some African detainees had been knocked unconscious and nearly 100 were treated in hospital.”
The killings of eleven men by warders at Hola concentration camp in March 1959 proved a turning point in British policy. John Cowan, the Senior Superintendent of Prisons in Kenya from 1957 to 1963, told the Channel 4 documentary noted above of British officers forcing a group of prisoners at Hola camp to obey work orders. He said the policy was that if they did not “prove amenable to work” then “they should be – in the phrase – ‘manhandled’ to the site of work, and forced to carry out the task”. On 3 March 1959, 85 prisoners were marched to a site and ordered to work. One of the prisoners, John Maina Kahihu, said: “We refused to do this work. We were fighting for our freedom. We were not slaves. There were two hundred guards. One hundred seventy stood around us with machine guns. Thirty guards were inside the trench with us. The white man in charge blew his whistle and the guards started beating us. They beat us from 8 am to 11.30. They were beating us like dogs. I was covered by other bodies – just my arms and legs were exposed. I was very lucky to survive. But the others were still being beaten. There was no escape for them”.
Alongside the eleven dead were 60 seriously injured. When reports of the killings reached Britain there was political uproar; within weeks London closed the Kenyan camps and released the detainees.
Government attitudes to forced labour in 1950s Kenya show British elites’ basic contempt for international law equally blatant today. In February 1953 the Kenyan colonial authorities cabled London saying they were on the verge of putting people “compulsorily to work” in “the areas being prepared for settlement by Kikuyu or other African tribes.” To do this, the Governor asked London whether there was any possibility “of obtaining exemption” from the provisions of the UN’s Forced Labour Convention of 1930. The Colonial Office debated the issue and recognised that implementing the proposal would be illegal. It was clearly noted that “compulsory labour as proposed by Kenya would be a breach of the Forced Labour Convention” and “there was no procedure for claiming exemption from its provisions”. But despite this, the minutes of one meeting note that “if the measures could be introduced without publicity, or delayed until after the [UN] session, the UK delegation’s task would be easier”. The Colonial Secretary then wrote to the Governor explaining that “if…the proposal for compulsory employment is to be pursued it means facing up to the fact that we shall be breaking the Convention”. The Colonial Secretary declared: “The only justification I can see for sustaining this breach would be (a) that we are dealing with very exceptional circumstances not contemplated by the Convention and (b) that we are not offending against the spirit of the Convention which was framed primarily to prevent the exploitation of labour… I should be grateful to know of any further considerations there may be to strengthen the case for compulsion.”
The Governor replied that he had “re-examined the position” and was “very anxious not to embarrass you. I now think that by a combination of economic inducements and use of sanctions under existing law…it may well be possible to attain our objective.”

Dependent independence

Britain’s main objectives in Kenya were achieved largely by a combination of straightforward violence and repression. But the transition to a friendly government at independence in 1963 could not have been achieved without substantial manoeuvring in the political and economic fields as well. The cultivation of an African elite who would preserve British interests after independence was not an easy one, since Britain had imprisoned many of the most able political leaders in 1952. Two months after the declaration of the state of emergency, the Colonial Office suggested “giving moderate and loyal Africans some positive part to play in the present crisis”. Of course, “there can be no question, so long as the emergency lasts, of any constitutional change at the centre”; the declaration of the state of emergency had been intended precisely to prevent this.
The Colonial Office suggested establishing interracial advisory committees. “We are not so naive as to think that advisory committees will bring much increase in wisdom to bear on immediate problems”, it. Their importance was that “they can…play a useful part in associating with the process of government persons who would otherwise be condemned to more sterile and therefore frequently dangerous activities”. This was “of particular value in Kenya at the present when there is really so little that you can do to give moderate Africans a sense of purpose”.
Britain also engaged in various covert activities to ensure the dominance of “moderate” policies following independence. It was behind the creation of the Kenyan African Democratic Union (KADU) party, set up to unite African moderates against the stronger and more popular Kenyan African National Union (KANU) – the successor to the KAU – under Kenyatta. KADU received covert funding from British business interests in Kenya and also from the colonial authorities in advance of the 1963 election. However, at the final Lancaster House conference before independence, the British government realised that unfortunately KANU would win the election and abandoned KADU. MI6 also recruited Bruce McKenzie, an influential white settler politician who had moved over from KADU to KANU. After independence McKenzie was appointed Minister for Agriculture, and also had responsibility for overseeing the defence treaty with Britain.
In the economic sphere, it was land reform for the White Highlands that was the most significant scheme for preserving British interests. The purpose of the Swynnerton Plan of the mid-l950s was to enable richer Africans to acquire more land and poorer farmers less, which had the effect of creating a landed and a landless class, the latter growing to around 400,000. In the land transfer schemes of the years shortly before independence, new African “settlers” were forced to pay for land that they regarded as theirs and that had been taken over by European settlers. The majority of landless people were unable to raise even the basic sums needed as a downpayment for the purchase of land, so that over half the land was transferred almost intact to wealthy Africans in partnerships or limited liability companies. Those that were able to buy land did so by indebting themselves to cover the high prices paid to the European settlers.
This meant that many poor African peasants were paying back debts to the ex-colonisers for decades after independence to compensate the latter for the land they originally stole. The World Bank and Britain’s Commonwealth Development Corporation (the then aid programme) provided financial aid for these schemes, which “reflected the European and colonial hopes of using foreign investment to bolster a moderate nationalist state and to preserve European economic (and political) interests”, according to Gary Wasserman in his analysis of land in Kenya. The African middle classes who were rich enough to acquire land through land titles and loan repayments “were expected to acquire a vested interest against any radical transformation of the society”. There was the obligation to repay the loans, to maintain an economy favourable to private investment, to limit nationalisations, and to maintain the chief export-earner – European dominated capital agriculture, and an economic structure congenial to it – hence to refuse to expropriate Europeans or place limits on land holdings. Overall, “the decolonisation process aimed to preserve the colonial political economy and, beyond that, to integrate an indigenous elite into positions of authority where they could protect the important interests in the system”.
Ongoing disenfranchisement of the poor was therefore assured after independence. Political power now rested in the hands of the previously unreliable Kenyatta, who as the first President after independence accepted the validity of the land transfers, the worst aspect of colonialism. Subsequent policy aimed to “Africanise” the economy while accommodating the interests of the transnational corporations who held – and continue to hold – a significant stake in the country. In 1958, one third of privately owned assets in Kenya were owned by non-residents, mainly TNCs. By 1978, fifteen years after political independence, analysts Bethwell Ogot and Tiyambe Zeleza note that “Kenya was still a dependent export economy, heavily penetrated by foreign capital from all the major capitalist countries, so that she was more firmly and broadly integrated into the world capitalist system than at independence”.
A 1978 International Labour Organisation report highlighted the effects of the British plans that post-independence leaders essentially implemented. Those who benefited from the rapid economic growth since independence included the elites who replaced the British “in the high level jobs”, some African settlers who had bought land from European farmers, and employees in the modern, urban sectors who secured increases of 6-8 per cent a year in their real incomes. However, “the group of persons who have failed to derive much benefit from the growth generated since independence includes the great majority of small holders, employees in the rural sector, the urban working poor and the urban and rural unemployed”.
By the middle 1970s, the richest 20 per cent of the population received 70 per cent of total income, while the majority of the population suffered from grinding poverty. Today, Kenya’s income and ownership distribution remain heavily skewed in favour of a minority elite. This situation owes much to British priorities in the dying days of formal colonialism.