In 1988, John Darwin wrote that “with its telescope clapped firmly to its ear, London declared that [African] opposition [to Federation] could be neither seen nor heard.”Footnote 3 The well-worn historiographical path points to the fact that African opposition was effectively ignored on the basis that “partnership” between white settlers and black Africans in Northern and Southern Rhodesia and Nyasaland offered a strong rationale for the Central African Federation (CAF). The requisite benefits arising would see the promotion of African economic opportunities, the placation of settler politicians seeking to reduce the influence of the Colonial Office, and the preservation of British influence in the region.Footnote 4 The utility of “partnership” was in its ambiguity. Whilst Southern Rhodesia's Prime Minister Godfrey Huggins foresaw the relationship akin to a “horse and its rider,” British officials, including the progressive Assistant Undersecretary for African Affairs Andrew Cohen, regarded the initiative as integral to preventing the spread of radical Afrikaner nationalism in Central Africa.Footnote 5
Darwin's assertion that even with unified and coherent African opposition the course of events in Central Africa would probably have remained unaltered was likely accurate. But the ramifications of such a claim have been long lasting. A thorough scrutiny of African opposition to the scheme is absent from debates concerning the origins of the Central African Federation. As a consequence, the extent to which a misunderstanding of African political development influenced decisions to press ahead with such an ambitious state-building exercise fails to be appreciated. The focus on the experiences of Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland, and not Southern Rhodesia, is deliberate. The federation's northern territories were administered by the Colonial Office and both followed similar political trajectories after 1953. In contrast, Southern Rhodesia fell under the remit of the Commonwealth Relations Office. This effectively handed control over native affairs to the settler administration. By the early 1950s, one contemporary observer noted that Southern Rhodesia's attitude to its African majority increasingly resembled a diluted version of South Africa's apartheid policy.Footnote 6 This was a strong opinion, but it nevertheless highlights the obvious discrepancy in the ways in which African rights and, more pertinently, African advancement in the Rhodesias was perceived.
The intention of this article is to shed light on the complex dynamics of African political mobilisation in the early 1950s in Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland. The challenge facing African politicians in the late 1940s was twofold: how could effective, and “reasonable,” opposition to the CAF be presented to the British government and, closely related, how could support be generated among the grass roots to give reasonable weight to the Nyasaland African Congress (NAC) and African National Congress (ANC) objections. These two divergent objectives would require dissimilar programmes and agendas. Political activists were broadly successful in drawing together local grievances and presenting a “national” campaign against federation. Their actions provided a stimulus to popular, nationalist agitation and pointed to a rejection of the status quo. Inherent within this moment of mass political engagement, however, was tension and uncertainty. NAC and ANC leaders could only do so much to present a truly “national” campaign. Efforts to build Congress prestige at the grass roots was rooted in the exploitation of “local” grievances. As the anti-federation campaign was scaled up, it became increasingly difficult for Congress leaders to act in the “national” interest without alienating local or sectional concerns of their regional support base. The evolution of two very distinct internal and external strands of African political agitation therefore served to undermine the overall credibility of the anti-federation campaign. By 1953, colonial authorities could publicly dismiss African opposition to the scheme on the basis that “partnership” would encourage “sensible” political development.
Translating the Anti-Federation Message: Grass Roots Mobilisation
The concept of creating an enlarged Central African state dated back to 1915 when the British South Africa Company, then administering Northern and Southern Rhodesia under royal charter, proposed an amalgamation of the territories in order to promote greater economic coordination.Footnote 7 The issue rose to prominence in 1936, pushing the British Conservative government to appoint a commission under the chairmanship of Lord Bledisloe to explore feasible options for “some form of cooperation between the Rhodesias and Nyasaland.”Footnote 8 Published in 1939, the report ruled against amalgamation of the Central African territories, but left the door ajar for settler politicians, under the forceful leadership Roy Welensky and Godfrey Huggins, to push for further concessions. A deadlock remained until 1951, when Labour's new Commonwealth Relations Secretary, Patrick Gordon Walker, embarked on a fact-finding mission in Central Africa. In March 1952, he produced a hugely influential memorandum which established the foundations for a Central African Federation.Footnote 9 Although federation fell short of the settler desire for amalgamation between the Rhodesias, it was seen by British officials as a useful compromise. After protracted discussions with settler politicians including Welensky and Huggins, officials in the Colonial Office and the Commonwealth Relations Office drew up a draft federal scheme at the Lancaster House Conference in April 1952.Footnote 10
The prospect of closer association elicited opposition from the African political community from the outset.Footnote 11 Through welfare societies and native associations, African intellectuals sought in every conceivable way to better their position using constitutional means. They operated like pressure groups on behalf of their members, attempting to exert influence upon government on an impressive range of subjects.Footnote 12 But whilst the prospect of closer association remained unclear, little incentive was provided for concerted political organisation. The problem stemmed partly from the narrow elitism which characterised African political representation at this time. As Harold Kittermaster, the governor of Nyasaland, remarked in 1939, native associations were far from being representative of African opinion in general and far less valuable than the cohort of tribal leaders upon whom his government relied to deal with native matters. He personally preferred “to pour cold water on the associations rather than try to regulate or suppress them.”Footnote 13
As discussions over the prospect of a federation in Central Africa gathered pace, so too did African political agitation. The challenge facing activists was to broaden their support base. The formation of the Nyasaland African Congress in 1944, and the formation of the Northern Rhodesian African National Congress (NRAC) four years later, heralded a significant moment in this regard. As Dauti Yamba, the NRAC's first deputy president, stated, the formation of the party was an attempt to foster unity among the people, breaking “tribal barriers” to cultivate a national agenda.Footnote 14 There were inevitable tensions within the movement, but colonial authorities still viewed these developments with a degree of anxiety. As early as 1947, the Secretary for Native Affairs warned in a confidential circular to Provincial Commissioners that Africans were “entering a difficult phase of race consciousness” and that “every opportunity must be taken to retain its confidence and guide it into safe channels.”Footnote 15
African opposition to federation was born of long experience of restricted opportunities to participate equally in economic and political life in Central Africa. Within this context the safeguards offered in the Federal Scheme by the British—including preservation of Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland's “protectorate status” and the provision that responsibility for matters directly affecting Africans’ affairs would be safeguarded by the African Affairs Board—were entirely meaningless. For many, the federation represented permanent subjection to white settlers in Central Africa.Footnote 16 Harry Nkumbula, who was to be elected to the presidency of the NRAC in July 1951, fully appreciated the constitutional impact of federal proposals on African advancement. This was borne from his experience as a student in London during the later 1940s, during which time he had actively engaged with anti-colonial and radical circles. He regularly attended meetings of the West African Students’ Union, listening to his “elders”—Ghana's first president, Kwame Nkrumah, and staunch Pan-Africanist George Padmore—and had frequent contact with senior anti-colonial campaigners including Rita Hinden, secretary of the Fabian Colonial Bureau, Harold Laski, the chairman of the Labour Party, and Fenner Brockway. As Macola suggests, it was as much the exposure to a climate of racial tolerance in London as it was the ideologies of Nkumbula's peers which influenced his views on federation.Footnote 17 Most influential in this regard was Hastings Banda, the future leader of the Nyasaland Congress, then practising medicine in North London. It was with Banda that Nkumbula published “Federation in Central Africa,” the first major African intervention in the anti-federation debate. Claiming to speak on behalf of Africans in Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland, the pamphlet railed against the indignities suffered by fellow Africans in Southern Rhodesia and warned that federation would result in the extension of such policies northwards.Footnote 18 The extent to which this influential treatise came to shape the outward-looking anti-federation campaign will be examined later, but it was clear that a precedent had been established. Federation was the first step in the permanent subjugation to white settlers in Central Africa; the scheme itself a crude attempt by white minorities to obtain absolute authority over the direction of native policy.Footnote 19 Similar arguments were expressed by the Nyasaland African Congress in a pamphlet entitled “Why We Oppose Federation: Our Aims and Objectives.”Footnote 20
The principle problem facing Congress leaders in the early 1950s was that so few subscribed to their political agenda. Few understood the perceived impact that federation would have on future African political, social, and economic development. The immediate objective of NRAC and NAC leaders therefore was to expand and scale-up political agitation to make arguments against the federation relevant at grass roots. The first stage in this process was to transform the Congresses into genuine political parties. In 1951, Nkumbula embarked upon an extensive organisational drive, touring Northern Rhodesia's provinces emphasising to local Congress organisers the need to maintain registers of paid-up members and donations. Early in 1952, the first permanent NRAC party headquarters was established in Chilenje, Lusaka, and efforts were made to streamline the financial running of the party by publishing an official schedule of membership and yearly subscription fees.Footnote 21 Following a nationwide tour in May 1952, Nkumbula was able to claim a total membership amounting to some twenty thousand people in some seventy-five branches.Footnote 22 These estimates may have been optimistic, but the rise in the number of Congress subscribers helped facilitate the employment of a number of salaried provincial organising secretaries who were tasked with the business of registering new members and spreading the Congress message.Footnote 23 As Godwin Lewanika wrote to the secretary of the Fabian Colonial Bureau in June 1952, the newly named African National Congress of Northern Rhodesia [ANC] could claim to represent the interests of all Africans in the territory.Footnote 24
For political leaders, anti-federation was a catch-all issue which had the potential to cut across urban-rural and ethno-regional divides. The key was thus to create a populist political agenda, one that made coterminous the issue of federation with shared anxieties and local grievances. One of the most important tactics in this regard was to tap into historical fears pertaining to land alienation.Footnote 25 In April 1953, for example, Harry Nkumbula delivered a speech in the Copperbelt provinces stating that “the Europeans of this country have plans for taking you away from the villages where you carry out independent life.” With his rural Southern Province roots, Nkumbula might have been speaking to his own constituents. But implicit in his claim was an effort to show that both rural and urban regions were affected by the same issue.Footnote 26 When he asked rhetorically whether Welensky would remove Africans from their land once federation had been established, he was doing so because the matter struck at the very heart of deeply held African fears.Footnote 27 The Congress-led struggle against federation was thus imbued with a moral currency. He went on to state that “the policy [of fighting federation] is a long-drawn one and difficult.” “I would ask the public that if they are not prepared to suffer from dismissals, imprisonment, and other kind of torture in the fight for national independence which is at the core of their hearts, they must say so now.”Footnote 28 To devote oneself to Congress therefore was akin to sacrificing oneself for their people.
Between 1951 and 1953, provincial reports circulated in both territories noting with alarm the extent to which African agitators had been successful in making coterminous the issue of land alienation with federation. In Northern Rhodesia, J. E. Passmore, District Commissioner in Southern Province, remarked that the fear of loss of land was ready-made for Congress agitators to work on. “The general attitude of Africans is one of intense suspicion that the Europeans are plotting to take away their land,” he said. “Every political move or development proposal is viewed in this light.”Footnote 29 American anthropologist Hortense Powdermaker, then conducting research in the Copperbelt, buttressed his claims. Most people she spoke with, “with or without education, young and old,” had “a compulsive need to talk about [federation] and the related fear of losing their land.”Footnote 30
In Nyasaland, meanwhile, Governor Geoffrey Colby reported with concern in March 1952 that African opposition was “hardening as realisation of what is at stake spreads to the non-vocal masses.”Footnote 31 A month later, three thousand Africans crammed into the market square in Blantyre to attend an emergency conference of the Nyasaland Congress. There they listened to a speech given by the Reverend Michael Scott, Director of the African Bureau, summarising a letter written by Hastings Banda. In it, Banda railed against federation and the dangers it presented to the “African way” of life. It ought thus to be met with “the strongest non-violent resistance.”Footnote 32 By August, the Nyasaland Special Branch noted that everywhere the NAC had begun to turn African opinion decisively against federation. When the preliminary white paper detailing federal proposals was published, Africans “had been willing to discuss the paper with every sign of interest.” The mood of Africans had changed, however, to “one of obstinate refusal to discuss anything connected with it at any level.”Footnote 33
Efforts to play up the historical legacy of settler domination created an atmosphere in which fear and suspicion thrived. This found expression in the growth of several rumours which came to exercise a profound impact on the people's understanding of federation and all that it entailed. Early in 1952, for instance, two government employees, David Simfukwe and Michael Sakala, produced a pamphlet circulating a rumour that the British and Northern Rhodesian authorities had embarked upon a campaign to sell poisoned sugar to Africans.Footnote 34 On the Copperbelt, sales of sugar dropped suddenly. From sugar, the rumour turned to tinned “human” meat, which was being sold to Africans to poison them and break their opposition to federation. The rumour was so strong in Lusaka that children were kept away from school and people became afraid to walk the streets at night.Footnote 35 To further the anti-federation cause, the ANC made several attempts to legitimise African suspicions. In December 1952, Congress leaders substantiated the banyama vampire-men rumour by accusing the government of complicity in the attacks on innocent Africans for “failing to deal with the Vampire men threatening the peace and order of the country.”Footnote 36 Whilst Congress activists did not create the rumours—the banyama myth, for instance, stretched back to the 1930s—they were a means by which the anti-federation message could be translated into a usable lexicon of protest.Footnote 37 Rumours soon spread to Nyasaland and parts of Southern Rhodesia, extending to the belief that African members of the pro-federation, white-led Capricorn Africa Society, founded in 1949 to campaign for closer association, were kidnapping Africans and selling them to Europeans. The fact that the rumours spread so rapidly at this time, Luise White suggests, reflected the deep concerns of the people hearing the story. People expressed themselves in ways which unduly emphasised the supernatural, but their fears were genuine.Footnote 38
The emphasis on a shared struggle formed part of a broader strategy to utilise and infiltrate tribal structures of power to bolster Congress prestige and popularity. Tribal elders were conduits of information in their respective native areas. They could at once facilitate the drawing together of local grievances with a national campaign and make easier the coordination of political activity and the dissemination of Congress campaign material in their areas of chiefly authority. Permission to establish party headquarters in their regions would also streamline the collection of funds for those willing to contribute financially to the anti-federation cause.Footnote 39 Whilst both Congress parties had worked together informally with a number of chiefs, many remained broadly absent from the political debate over federation. It was partly for this reason that efforts were made in the early 1950s to better facilitate coordination of political activities with chiefs. In 1953, for instance, ANC leaders discussed the creation of Chiefs Provincial Councils to facilitate cooperation between chiefs and ANC activists in the localities. To encourage the involvement of chiefs in Congress-sponsored protest, activists went to great lengths to emphasise the likely impact that federation would have on chiefly power. If federation would dilute the influence of the colonial state, activists argued, then chiefly power would also diminish. Whilst some chiefs might have been perceived to be the agents of the colonial state, their inherent sensitivity towards losing office meant that they were a crucial component in the strategy to mobilise grassroots support.
There was inevitably some discord and disagreement among chiefs, but ANC and NAC efforts to cultivate a network of collaboration among traditional rulers opened the scope for a broader field of operations than had hitherto been possible. In Northern Rhodesia, chiefs in the Southern Province agreed in 1953 to raise sums for a legal case to be brought against the British government by Africans in Northern Rhodesia. Every chief agreed to subscribe not less than £5, all village headmen no less than £2 and ordinary men of taxable age £1. Chief Macha from the Choma District remarked that the atmosphere was one of unity. “I wish to express how thankful I am to see that the spirit of God has united us all during our stay in this meeting. . . .We must all learn to respect those who are placed to lead us be they small or big, rich or poor.”Footnote 40 Chief Munymbwe from Gwembe echoed such sentiments, calling for Congress officials to visit his area as his people were “dying in ignorance.”Footnote 41 Similar networks developed between the NAC and a number of chiefs in Nyasaland. Initially urged by the Nyasaland government not to involve themselves with Congress politics, the fear that federation would mark the erosion of colonial authority increasingly drew chiefs into the NAC's sphere of influence. Kinross Kulujiri, the secretary of the NAC's Blantyre branch, felt confident enough to remark in late 1951 that “all chiefs agree with us politically and socially.”Footnote 42 In April 1952, NAC and several prominent chiefs joined forces on a visit to London. There, they met with British sympathisers, and later boycotted the Lancaster House Conference on the grounds that they would not stand to countenance federation and a scheme which places the future of Africans in the hands of settler dominated federal government.
The actions of the NAC-chief delegation mightn't have caused a radical rethink in Britain's position, but it did create sufficient concern at the highest political levels to provoke the Colonial Office into action. Following a meeting between the delegation and the Colonial Secretary, Oliver Lyttelton became convinced that the NAC-inspired anti-federation campaign was beginning to gain traction. To prevent widespread civil disobedience, colonial officials were instructed now to “sell” the federal scheme. Given the extent of what was considered a worrying strain of opposition, Africans were to be told that they were simply not ready for self-government. After all, Nyasaland's wealth and development depended “entirely on the skill of Europeans.”Footnote 43 Perceived as an overt statement of their relative insignificance to the nation's development, chiefs, farmers, and workers signed up en masse to participate in the NAC's anti-federation campaign. New radicals in NAC, notably Mikeka Mkandawire and Hartwell Soloman of the Blantyre branch, urged greater focus on grassroots protest. In April 1953, the Supreme Action Council, a joint council of Congress and chiefs led by Chief Mwase of Kasungu and NAC president J. R. N. Chinyama was formed.Footnote 44 Tasked with the express aim of coordinating a campaign of noncooperation—including boycotts, nonpayment of taxes, and suspension of African participation in government—the Council's job was made easier by a poor harvest in the Northern and Central Provinces and the scaling up of ANC activities in Northern Rhodesia.Footnote 45
Within weeks, Council meetings had taken place in the Northern, Central, and Southern Provinces with eighty-three chiefs signing a petition against the imposition of federation and many issuing statements in support of the Supreme Council. Disquiet soon began to proliferate throughout the territory, and district reports indicated that councils and local courts were not meeting and that people had stopped paying tax and were disregarding agricultural rules and forestry regulations. Chief Mwase refused to attend the Queen's coronation whilst Chief Gomani obstinately ordered his people to disregard all agricultural, forestry, and veterinary laws and suggested that they refuse to pay taxes.Footnote 46 This was not an insignificant series of events; the attitude of senior chiefs established a precedent that was to set the tone for anti-federation agitation, with ever more frequent reports that individuals in favour of federation were being subjected to terrorisation.Footnote 47 The increase in political temperature eventuated in the eruption of a series of violent disturbances in the Southern Province. In August, over five thousand Africans assembled at Cholo boma to protest about the imposition of higher rents for land. Once village headmen were arrested, the protesting crowd proceeded to riot.Footnote 48 Unrest spread throughout the province; armed gangs roamed the countryside, road blocks were set up, and labourers were encouraged to stop working. Only when police reinforcements were called in from Tanganyika, South Africa, and Northern Rhodesia did protests stop. During the course of the unrest, eleven people were killed and fifty wounded.Footnote 49 Recalling the events, former civil servant and Congress member George Nyondo, then a young boy of thirteen, stated that he had been “shocked” and saddened by the actions of the soldiers used to quell unrest in Blantyre. “They were very, very violent,” he said. “We felt afraid to come out of our home after we had heard what the government were doing to the people.”Footnote 50 Occurring against the backdrop of the anti-federation campaign, it was initially assumed that the disturbances were of a political nature, and thus warranted harsh reprisal. After a thorough investigation into the event, however, a report concluded that the disturbances had been ostensibly “local” in character and had in fact “nothing to do with Federation.”Footnote 51 This was no mild affair; state suppression of the disturbances had been “skilful” and “ruthless,” and left an indelible imprint on the minds of Africans in regards to what life in the CAF would entail.Footnote 52
Events in Northern Rhodesia followed a similar trajectory. Soon after the publication of the Draft Federal Scheme in April, the terms of which had been agreed at the Lancaster House Conference, the ANC began drafting alternative plans for the constitutional development. Addressing a crowd of supporters in Lusaka, Nkumbula was unequivocal in his stance. Africans would not back down from their demands. “The best government for the black people is a government fully manned and run by the black people of Africa,” he said. “I do not accept white man's Governments. They to me are foreign and foreign they will remain.”Footnote 53 The racial terms used by Nkumbula at this time again hint at efforts to cultivate a spirit of togetherness among all Africans in Northern Rhodesia. During the last stages of debate in the British Parliament, the ANC president symbolically burned the final Federal Scheme for Southern Rhodesia, Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland before an audience of eight hundred in Lusaka, threatening widespread unrest if Britain continued with its plans for federation. Efforts to clamp down on Congress activism were scaled up thereafter. In September, K. M. Chittenden, the District Commissioner for Namwala, Nkumbula's home district, wrote to the provincial commissioner of the Southern Province suggesting “a little publicity carefully put around about his private life might be advantageous.”Footnote 54 A month earlier, Nkumbula had complained to former prime minister Clement Attlee, who had been despatched to investigate claims that ANC supporters had been subjected to a sustained campaign of intimidation by “pro-federation authorities.” Chiefs had been stopped from attending meetings, he said, and African labourers were being removed from their jobs. He even complained that members of the Capricorn Africa Society had been “buying” support for federation.Footnote 55
Many mightn't have fully understood the political rationale for federation, but the success of ANC and NAC activists in mobilising opinion against it indicates an awareness of the racial inequalities likely to materialise under it. The continued exclusion of African voices from official discussions over federation did little to ameliorate African suspicions. White political domination would necessarily translate to permanent white economic domination, which would find expression in the seizure of land. As reported by the Church of Scotland Mission Council following an investigation into African objections to federation, “African opposition is not to details of the scheme but to the whole principle,” which evoked strong comparisons with the treatment of native populations in South Africa.Footnote 56
The Outward-Looking Anti-Federation Campaign, 1950–53
Grassroots mobilisation was often carried out by ANC and NAC activists at the local level. Whilst they acted on guidance and principles established by party headquarters, they were able to translate much larger ideas into a language more easily understood by their constituents. The outward-looking anti-federation campaign was under the direct control of the leaders of the Congresses. Understandably, it was framed in very different terms to local mobilisation campaigns. ANC and NAC leaders adopted a rhetoric which steered away from negative associations and feared settler domination. Instead, emphasis was placed on Britain's paternalistic responsibilities to its African subjects. A common feature in the hundreds of letters, statements, and petitions written to colonial officials and sympathisers in Britain was the responsibility of the British government to heed the objections of its loyal colonial citizens.Footnote 57 On 17 April, four delegates from Nyasaland—including Legislative Council members E. K. Mpose, E. Alexander Muwanba, NAC member Clement Kumbikano, and Protectorate Council members Edward Gondwe—met with the Colonial Secretary. There, they registered their unequivocal opposition to federation on the basis that African rights were to be protected by the British, not by any other government.Footnote 58 Framed within similar terms was a petition addressed to Queen Elizabeth by a visiting delegation of chiefs, commoners, and two Congress members in January 1953. The delegation was later to be joined by the NAC's future president Hastings Banda, who was suspected by the Colonial Office of “stage managing the show.”Footnote 59
The petition was a powerful document, illustrative of the frustration and disappointment felt by the traditional authorities of Nyasaland.Footnote 60 Aggrieved that their country had been included in the federation merely to “counterbalance” Rhodesia's settler population, the petition emphasised promises made by Queen Victoria to uphold chiefly authority and protect the people of Nyasaland.Footnote 61 Harry Nkumbula couched the ANC's appeal in similar terms. In a revealing report of a meeting with colonial officials in July 1952, he wrote that the “loyalty of the Africans to the Queen of England cannot be doubted.” In stark contrast to his appeals for support against the “land grubbing” colonialist, Africans strove to advance as “protected persons” under British stewardship, not to find their ambitions and goals frustrated under white settler government.Footnote 62 The campaign soon came to be couched in strong moral terms. In a statement intended to strike at the core of British values, Nkumbula argued:
Britain is not only on the wrong side of legality in dealing with her colonial peoples but also her international race relations in general, and that of her colonial peoples in particular…To me, nothing could be more savage and immoral than the imposition of such a measure against the unwilling millions of inhabitants of Central Africa.Footnote 63
The initial focus of the ANC and the NAC, who worked closely with Nyasaland chiefs in the external appeal to British officials, was to provoke a change in the Conservative government's policy towards Central Africa. Once it became clear that the Colonial Office would not be swayed, a discernible shift can be detected in approach. In language which hints at an intersection of the internal and external campaign strands, objections to the CAF became framed in the language of African advancement, not British stewardship of Africans. European-led multiracialism was rejected entirely, to be replaced with staged constitutional devolution that would place Africans at the very centre of territorial politics. The ANC in 1952, for instance, envisaged three stages to an expansion of the African franchise that would eventuate in demands for self-government.Footnote 64 These calls for self-government became ever more forceful in early 1953. Attempts were even made at this time to legally challenge federation on the basis of historical claims to land ownership and promises made by the Crown to safeguard African welfare.Footnote 65 Whilst the case was unlikely to succeed, it nevertheless points to a turning point in the relationship with Britain.
The change in stance was reflected in attempts to extend the parameters in which the debate over federation was taking place. If the government would not negotiate, pressure would have to be exerted to force a change in hand. The British people must be shown that “time is overdue for the increased African participation in the running of their country.”Footnote 66 Soon after deciding to boycott the Lancaster House Conference in April 1952, NAC and ANC leaders used funds of over £7,000 collected from among their supporters to send a delegation to Britain to “educate the British public in Central African Affairs.”Footnote 67 As remarked by Reverend Michael Scott, this was “a tremendous sum for these people to get together” and indicated the strength of feeling towards federation. “We have been entrusted by our people,” read the ANC's press statement, “with the task of explaining to the British people what are the hopes and fears which we in Central Africa have today and why we felt it necessary to come here in order to appeal that the British Government reconsider its decision to establish Federation in Central Africa.”Footnote 68
The visit of both ANC and NAC members and chiefs had a significant impact on contemporary observers and anti-colonial campaign groups in Britain. “Make no mistake,” wrote Reverend Michael Scott, then director of the hugely influential anti-colonial pressure group the Africa Bureau, “Britain should not proceed on the false assumption that the opposition to Federation can safely be ignored as something quite unsubstantial and ineffectual.”Footnote 69 Parliament became one of the key arenas for debate. In March 1952 the Labour Party passed a resolution condemning the “idea of federation” unless the native populations gave their “full assent.”Footnote 70 Innumerable petitions and letters were subsequently sent to government officials and prominent domestic newspapers, arguing in favour of greater consultation with African opinion. “What does ‘partnership’ mean,” enquired the FCB in a pamphlet published in May 1952. “Does it mean ‘partnership’ between separate racial communities, whatever their size and state of development? Does it mean ‘equal’ ‘partnership,’ or ‘senior and junior’ ‘partnership’?”Footnote 71 Adding further pressure to the Conservative government was a petition sent by the NAC to the United Nations in May 1952 which asked for an impartial investigation to be carried out to assess whether the scheme was compatible with Article 73.Footnote 72
The outward-looking campaign was certainly successful in drawing a much wider audience into the debate concerning federation. In drawing overt reference to the strong racial implications of the scheme, the attention of anti-apartheid and anti-colonial activists in Britain was harnessed. In providing both small donations and the means to print and distribute political literature, they helped both Congresses to establish themselves as functioning political organisations. The advice received as to how the campaign might impact more favourably on British officials proved valuable, not least as a means to develop a degree of political maturity among Congress leaders that might only be gained with an insight into the decision-making process in the metropole. It was thanks to the guidance given by Michael Scott, for instance, that the Congress boycott of the Lancaster House Conference was accompanied by an effort to send able delegates to Britain to put forward a case against federation.Footnote 73 These early exchanges were perhaps more important for what they represented than for their achievements. In the first instance, they certainly point to a degree of political maturity that had been denied them by colonial officials. The goal to “educate” the British people showed not only an awareness that extra support was needed to sustain anti-federation activities, but, perhaps more importantly, an awareness of the broader anti-colonial context in which discussions over federation were taking place. The external campaign thus not only helped to legitimise objections to the federal scheme, but also established both the NAC and ANC as the political representatives of African opinion in Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland. Whilst more established political elites were not disenfranchised in the debate, it introduced a much stronger strain of anti-colonial activism that would become characteristic of nationalist agitation in the late 1950s. Although the outward-looking campaign might have failed in its goals to stop federation, it did prove successful in ways that were to exercise a long-lasting impact on the future of Central Africa.
Political Agitation and Seeds of Disunity
Despite an undeniable increase in political agitation, plans for the Central African Federation proceeded unhindered. The final constitutional conference, held in London at Carlton House, even weakened the role of the African Affairs Board, a measure intended to safeguard African interests.Footnote 74 Scepticism over the credibility of African opposition remained. Henry Hopkinson's now infamous 1952 report, which claimed that between 90 and 95 percent of Africans “knew nothing and cared little about federation,” was a common articulation of the official mind.Footnote 75 The perception that reasonable African opposition did not exist undoubtedly reflected commitment to a much broader colonial strategy, of which the Central African Federation was an important part.Footnote 76 As this article has shown, opposition to federation did exist, and reactions of the colonial authorities to political agitation clearly reflected the extent to which it threatened to destabilise Colonial Office plans. But why African opposition was not regarded as sufficiently strong to decisively alter British plans must encourage a much closer scrutiny of the African anti-federation campaign.
The extent to which NAC and ANC leaders were forced to address two rather disparate challenges—domestic grassroots mobilisation and the mounting of an “external” opposition campaign—created tensions within each movement. The outward-looking campaign, for instance, gave emphasis to “African” solidarity and Britain's responsibilities to safeguarding African development. Such an appeal was based on collective togetherness which transcended the idea of “the nation.” This was then projected on an undeniably international stage. The internal mobilisation campaign, however, reflected the widely differing lived experiences under colonial rule. Whilst it brought chiefs and subjects, men and women, urban and rural together in opposition to federation, activists at grass roots continued to couch appeals for support in local, rather than national, terms. Much owed to the fact that coordination from ANC and NAC headquarters was often lacking, and local party activists were often given a freer hand in determining not only the ideological basis of their appeals, but also the scale of their activities. This was demonstrated in the cleavage between moderates and radicals that developed within the NAC following the Cholo disturbances. Whilst Chief Mwasa and president of the NAC J. R. N. Chinyama toured Cholo appealing for calm, members of the Supreme Council including Mikeka Mkandawire and Hartwell Solomon followed in their wake urging people not to give up the struggle.Footnote 77
This lack of central control was exacerbated by strong regional loyalties expressed by political leaders. In claiming the economic future of the country depended upon “large scale agricultural development,” for example, Nkumbula was likely speaking directly from loyalty to his own Southern Province constituency.Footnote 78 At the same time, sections of the ANC's urban support base demonstrated a strong reluctance to commit to the party's anti-federation agenda. In April 1953 the African Mine Workers Union [AMWU], led by Lawrence Katilungu, failed to participate in a “day of national prayer” organised by Nkumbula despite having given their word to do so.Footnote 79 As Miles Larmer suggests, trade union leaders had initially supported Congress, having been assigned eight out of eleven seats on the Supreme Action Council. As the anti-federation campaign wore on, however, AMWU leaders became increasingly concerned that the ANC campaign was running at odds with the colonial and company authorities upon whom union leaders depended for successful negotiations on pay and conditions.Footnote 80 Hundreds of mineworkers did in fact take strike action during the days of action in 1953 but were dismissed as a result. Financial motivations were clearly at play here, but it is no coincidence that tension within the party found expression in an urban-rural or ethno-regional framework.
The anti-federation campaign comprised two very distinct strands, each running concurrently but each utilising a dissimilar political discourse. With regional concerns at the core of both movements, there was little opportunity for national unity. This also accounts for the failure to launch a joint, pan-Central African Congress which might in the event have proved far more effective in challenging federation. This was perhaps best illustrated by the non-attendance of the NAC at an emergency African inter-territorial conference arranged for March 1953 in Northern Rhodesia at which proposals were to be discussed to “explore possible means of cooperation in future.”Footnote 81 The dissonance resonating between these two levels served ultimately to undermine the universalist framework in which Congress activists believed they were operating. Uneven political development of this nature was interpreted by colonial authorities as unpredictable and thus a potentially destabilising force. This in large part explains why some British officials adopted a somewhat patronising view of Africans in Central Africa.Footnote 82 Commonwealth Relations Secretary Lord Ismay commented to the governor of Southern Rhodesia in 1952 for example, that Central Africa was a very special case. If Britain was to fulfil its role as Governess properly, Africans in Central Africa had to be given “better prospects and better education before we can think of full political emancipation.”Footnote 83
Conclusion
The purpose of this article has been to shed light on the respective mobilisation campaigns of the African National Congress of Northern Rhodesia and the Nyasaland African Congress. It has shown that the campaign against federation served to galvanise nationalist agitation, and provided somewhat of a political education for nationalist politicians in advocating African advancement at the highest political levels. An important part of mobilising against the scheme was to build a broad support base among the grass roots. The tactics used by the ANC and NAC at this time primarily centred on the articulation of “local” grievances, which were then given “national” relevance by linking them closely with settler domination and restriction of African socioeconomic development. Intersecting with grassroots mobilisation, Congress activists voiced their opposition in the highest political circles, shining the spotlight on the issue of racial inequality in Central Africa. Whilst both internal and external campaigns fell short of stopping Federation, they were nevertheless successful in building the profile of both parties. The achievements of African politicians are greater when considered in the context of circumstances in which they were operating. In the initial instance, Africans were faced with the prospect of negotiating with a Conservative government considered to be far more sympathetic with the ambitions of settlers, at a time in which a perceived Afrikaner threat was at its zenith. In the second instance, both Congresses were beset with financial constraints, which curtailed the scope of their activities. Grassroots mobilisation thus assumed an enhanced significance, since individual donations to party branches would effectively finance the anti-federation campaign. This stood in stark contrast to the pro-federation, settler dominated United Federal Party, which could afford to lobby British government ministers via a public relations company.Footnote 84
Implicit within this success, however, was an undercurrent of tension which served to reinforce “official” scepticism of African political capabilities. Such sentiment was widely shared in British official circles, and centred largely on the premise of African “inexperience.” As Clement Attlee told the ANC's Executive Committee in August 1952, “you cannot learn politics from a textbook. It takes experience.”Footnote 85 The CAF was not necessarily, therefore, a hastily conceived reaction to settler nationalism and South African expansionism.Footnote 86 Rather, it was believed the CAF would provide “opportunities” for a more “reasonable,” “moderate,” strain of African politics to take root.Footnote 87 This was a risky strategy, but the short-term alienation of the African community was deemed far more beneficial for long-term African interests than conceding to anti-federation opposition in the short term. Lyttelton remarked as such in his memoirs: “Since we were determined to federate Northern and Southern Rhodesia and Nyasaland so as to promote the happiness and welfare of the inhabitants,” he said, “it was our duty to propound the policy . . . even against the opposition and maybe the violence of a vocal minority.”Footnote 88
In the event, African opposition was bypassed. The biggest mistake in this context was the inability of colonial authorities to fully appreciate that the anti-federation campaign was not simply political posturing by a handful of Western-based agitators.Footnote 89 It was at once an expression of African assertiveness and a rejection of the racial status quo. The failure to give a sympathetic hearing to Africans not only caused widespread hostility towards the Federation, but also marked the point of departure from which Africans could safely assume that Britain acted in African interests. The British government had, remarked Hastings Banda, showed itself to be “cold, calculating and callous”; it could not impose partnership by force.Footnote 90 As he later told Donal Brody in an interview,
I could not believe that almost one hundred years of promises of eventual self-determination were broken by a cabal of selfish individuals seeking to exploit the very Africans they had, almost a century ago, pledged to protect. I would not take this lying down. . . . I was determined to be the thorn in the side of the British in London and in the side of the settler government in Salisbury.Footnote 91
From this juncture, both Congresses realised that their policies and their claim to represent African opinion in general needed to change if it was to exert any meaningful influence on British policy. Such hostility contributed to making British aims unworkable. When Federation was inaugurated, Africans realised that allegedly “legitimate” appeals for greater representation merely resulted in their further entrenchment under settler rule. During these crucial years, Africans laid the foundations for a movement that was later to win independence from Britain. Africans had gained valuable organisational experience and had committed themselves with a truly national cause, one that would affect all Africans. Rather than subdue African nationalism, therefore, Africans in the North thus came to interpret Federation as an insuperable barrier to their own ambitions for national self-determination, and its imposition gave African nationalism in the region its decisive early boost.
Acknowledgements
My thanks to Giacomo Macola, Robert Rotberg, Sarah Stockwell, and Gordon Blacklock for their kind, and typically encouraging, remarks on earlier drafts of this article. I would like to dedicate this article to my former academic mentor Larry Butler.
