S6 Episode 7 - "Constellation"

At the United Nations, as black African countries force a test of U.S. attitudes, Ambassador Jean Kirkpatrick explains Reagan administration policy towards Southern Africa. Secretary of State Hague yesterday said in a speech about human rights that human rights violations by an authoritarian state are not as bad as those committed by a totalitarian state. Which category does South Africa fall into in apartheid? You know, that's a real political science question. about this love, son. Speak about this love, son. Welcome to Blowback. I'm Brendan James. And I'm Noah Colwyn. And this is Season 6, Episode 7, Constellation. In our last episode, we saw how Jimmy Carter's White House tried to solve its problem in southern Africa. We saw how, despite the best efforts of the so-called dealers in the Carter administration, it was their rivals, the bleeders, who ended up setting Cold War policy once again. By the spring of 1980, both UN Ambassador Andrew Young and Secretary of State Cyrus Vance, were out. National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski was very much in. In Luanda, meanwhile, the Angolans lost a founding father, Agustinio Neto, who died of cancer in the autumn of 79. And the MPLA faced a rising threat, Unita and Jonas Savimbi. Like a phoenix from the ashes, Savimbi's forces had been revived with support from South Africa, the Safari Club, Western Europe, and the United States. Luanda and its military allies from Havana now agreed that even worse might be yet to come. In this episode, we'll see what happens when a new president enters the scene, Ronald Reagan. Specifically, we'll see a new official policy on southern Africa, meant to get Cubans out of Angola, while gradually easing apartheid South Africa out of Namibia. It will be a continuation, an intensification, of Carter's bleeder policy. But rather than guide the region toward a more peaceful settlement, the early 1980s, the early Reagan years. These would be defined by increasing support for anti-communist crusaders, freedom fighters around the world, and in Angola, as in Afghanistan or Nicaragua, the support would flow to whomever was willing to take up the cause, no matter what horrors these cold warriors might have to their names. To those neighbors and allies who share our freedom, we will strengthen our historic ties and assure them of our support and firm commitment. We will match loyalty with loyalty. We will strive for mutually beneficial relations. We will not use our friendship to impose on their sovereignty, for our own sovereignty is not for sale. As for the enemies of freedom, those who are potential adversaries, they will be reminded that peace is the highest aspiration of the American people. We will negotiate for it, sacrifice for it. We will not surrender for it now or ever. When Ronald Reagan assumed the presidency in January 1981, the Cold War in Africa was not what was on everybody's minds. By the end of that year, 8.8% of the workforce, or 9.6 million Americans, would be unemployed. it. The economy was in recession, and that would be the issue which most consumed the Reagan White House's first term. And right off the bat, Reagan scored a big foreign policy victory. For the final 15 months of the Carter White House, dozens of Americans working at the U.S. embassy in Tehran had been held hostage, prisoners of the new revolutionary government. But Reagan's campaign manager, William Casey, had been secretly negotiating with the Iranians. Their plan was to score a release of the hostages after the 1980 election. Iran would get weapons smuggled through Israel. And the Reagan White House got its wish. This deal is known as the October Surprise, akin to the clandestine deal that the Nixon campaign had brokered with South Vietnam. which we covered on this show, and which guaranteed no Vietnam peace deal before the 1968 election. As you might expect, some of the same Nixon advisors who had busted up Vietnam peace talks, notably Dick Allen, they were involved in arranging Reagan's secret bargain with the Iranians. The 1980 October surprise was once called a conspiracy theory, but it's since been acknowledged even by the New York Times in more recent years as very real. After Reagan won the election, he tapped the surprise's architect, William Casey, as director of the CIA, and Dick Allen was made national security advisor. A devout Catholic who was also religiously anti-Soviet, Bill Casey was the leader of the hawkish wing of the Reagan White House, and Marxism seemed on the march at that time much closer to home, particularly in Central America, where military support was already on its way to anti-communist fighters in El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua. Southern Africa was, by comparison, not a priority. But certain promises had been made, writes scholar Elaine Windrich. Quote, even during the 1980 election campaign, when African policy issues were low on the agenda, the Savimbi lobby managed to obtain a commitment from Ronald Reagan that as president, he would provide military aid to the UNITA freedom fighters. End quote. Alexander Haig, whose role in the bombing of Cambodia we discussed last season, he was now the Secretary of State. As early as his January 1981 confirmation hearing, he gave more than a hint of what the Reagan White House desired. Quote, In Angola, UNITA elements are still going strong and are functioning. Several years ago, I felt we could have done something to prevent the outcome that confronted us there. No less than Savimbi himself scolded Washington for not offering more support during the MPLA's initial takeover of Luanda. He said so in an interview with The New Republic, published three days before Reagan's inauguration. Speaking with neocon thought leader Michael Ledeen, one of the pro-Iraq war Vulcans, whom we mentioned in season one of this program, Savimbi said he was, quote, so alarmed by his 1979 trip to the United States that he had considered abandoning his fight if Carter were re-elected. But now, he believes things are going to change. There was, however, still a problem. The Clark Amendment. Although Senator Dick Clark was by now long gone from Congress, his namesake legislation, which restricted any official U.S. aid from reaching Jonas Savimbi and UNITA, well, that was still in place. And what's more, Congress had voted to keep it in place shortly before Reagan took office, mindful of involving the U.S. in what many saw as South Africa's struggle. Apartheid South Africa was still a strategically indispensable ally to the U.S. in this part of the world. But the country still had an odious reputation, not only due to its policies of racial separation, but also of its occupation of Namibia. Praetoria had continually rejected the UN resolution that called for an end to its military administration of Namibia. Apart from their desire to run Namibia, the South Africans saw their occupation as a vital buffer against the Marxists in Angola. By Reagan's first term, the importance of the Namibia issue was weighing on the minds of even the most hardcore right-wingers. In March of 81, Al Haig described in a then-secret memo for Reagan the bind that the administration was in, trying to, quote, curtail Soviet influence in Angola manifested by the Cuban troops there. In an ideal world, Haig wrote, it might be preferable to stand aside and let the pot simmer. But the long history of Western diplomatic involvement on Namibia and the substantial concerns of our key allies require that we adopt a damage-limiting strategy. We are in something of a box. Our approach needs to get us out without a costly rupture in our allied and African relations. Haig's solution? To continue offering a tentative support for Namibian independence in concert with European and African partners. But more importantly, to strengthen Jonas Savimbi and his UNITA group through public support and indirect covert help so that he can harass the Cubans in Angola as part of a broader strategy of pressing the MPLA into dealing with Savimbi and getting rid of the Cubans. Although Haig personally was not an especially competent peacemaker, Reagan was lucky. there was a State Department official who saw the playing field much better than the hardliners did. Chester Crocker, Assistant Secretary of African Affairs. And he came to Reagan land with a whole new policy ID. Constructive engagement. A strategy known as linkage. Let me just ask one follow-up on that. Would it be fair to say that it has been a lot harder for the Reagan administration to tilt towards South Africa a bit than it wanted to do? That in the event, it's just been a lot more difficult to do that. I don't know. I wouldn't say that at all. Because I don't think it's clear anybody ever intended to tilt towards South Africa. Linkage had been the informal but clear position of the Carter White House and Zbigniew Brzezinski. The idea was that for Namibian independence to happen, then the Cubans would have to leave Angola. And, for what it's worth, months before the idea ever came out of the mouths of Americans, Angolan leaders had offered up their own version of the policy. They accepted that a legitimately independent Namibia, not controlled by an apartheid government, would be a real buffer for them against South African forces. Only three days after Reagan's inauguration, a New York Times headline summed it up nicely. Angolan aid links Cubans' exit to a free Namibia. But Chester Crocker, who had been chair of Africa issues on the Reagan campaign, he came at it from the other end. Rather than isolate South Africa, as the Carter administration was viewed as having done, Crocker sought to put pressure on South Africa from inside the House. This U.S. policy was christened constructive engagement, writes journalist Fred Bridgeland, quote, because it involved South Africa as a recognized and legitimate participant in a general process of change in the Southern and Central African region, instead of as the accused in the dock. At the time, Crocker was viewed with distrust by Reagan's staunchest right-wingers, who saw him as a dovish appeaser. But in his memoir, Crocker frames his approach as classic dealer mentality. It was Cold War diplomacy, meant to give the U.S. cover for its grand strategy of challenging Soviet communism, wherever its specter appeared. Quote, Crocker was probably too cerebral for many of the right-wing congressmen, writes Bridgeland, and if they had read carefully his writings on southern Africa at the time, they should have been able to see that his proposals for the region were by no means conventionally liberal. In the particular case of Angola, they spelled problems for the MPLA and the Cubans for years to come. Properly orchestrated, Crocker himself writes, quote, Initially, the South Africans balked at linkage. When it was proposed to them in mid-1981, the Americans had prepared for skepticism by sending Crocker along with another, even harder-core neoconservative official, one who could ideally help sell this softer policy, another future strategist of the Iraq war, Elliott Abrams, who more recently was tapped for senior posts by both the Trump and Biden administrations. After some hand-holding, Pretoria was successfully sold on constructive engagement and linkage. But at the same time notes Pierre Oglehesus they sent clear signals that it was a sham The South Africans understood that linking any promise of free elections in Namibia would invariably result in the victory of SWAPO the Namibian liberation movement which was allied with the MPLA, as well as the militants of the African National Congress, or ANC, the main opposition force to white rule in South Africa. According to Glehesis, Pick Botta, who was the Americans' major interlocutor and represented the most liberal wing of the South African cabinet, bluntly told an American diplomat that a Swapo victory will mean a Soviet presence there in Namibia which could threaten South Africa and lead to war. In case the American missed the point, Botta stressed, You cannot have a Swapo president of Namibia without a red flag. Alexander Haig made it clear that he too saw constructive engagement as a fig leaf. One senior United Nations official recalled Haig's words in his own memoir. Haig said the United States had no intention of allowing the hammer and sickle to fly over Windhock and would not be a party to installing a Marxist-Leninist government in Namibia. I doubted if the Swapo leader would know a Marxist-Leninist idea if he met one in the street, but, like most liberation leaders, he would take help from wherever he could get it. As part of constructive engagement, there were to be no sanctions against South Africa, and in fact the effort to repeal the Clark Amendment would be redoubled, and the U.S. would continue to back the apartheid state at the United Nations turning down the heat on the Namibia issue, in turn giving Pretoria, as well as Jonas Savimbi, a wide berth to continue their fight against Luanda. As Gleheses sums it all up, quote, linkage was a boon for South Africa. As we mentioned, Luanda's top diplomat, Lucio Lara, had already publicly endorsed linking the Cubans' exit from Angola to Namibian independence months before Crocker and the Reaganites made it their policy. But South Africa was not serious about Namibian independence. It was, for them, a cover story. A way to continue and extend their war with an American backing block. From the perspective of Luanda, the counterinsurgency against UNITA and the border war with South Africa was interfering more and more with the basic business of governance. Raids by UNITA and SADF forces were disrupting vital traffic along the Bengela Railway, And a rare dispatch from Luanda by New York Times reporter Anthony Lewis depicts a country grappling with food shortages and little means to develop stable native industries. What's more, the bad economy that helped propel Reagan to the White House was now forcing the Angolans to make tough choices. For a few years, Angola had benefited from high prices on the world market for its core exports, coffee, diamonds, and oil, write Michael Wolfers and Jane Bergeron. But with the drop of 50% in coffee prices, a reduction in the oil price, and a sharp fall in diamond revenues, the situation was reversed, and a foreign exchange crisis resulted. This type of situation was affecting developing countries all over the globe, from Mexico to Zaire. As a result, Angolan President José Eduardo dos Santos embarked on a program of austerity that, at its early 1982 peak, meant that, quote, shops were literally empty for almost three months. People survived by traveling to the countryside for local produce, end quote. Or, as we mentioned last time, they turned to black markets. Dos Santos and the MPLA had opted for austerity, despite its harsh consequences, because the alternative would have been to ask for Western credit, most likely in the form of a loan from the International Monetary Fund. Rather than spend state revenues on interest payments to the West, the choice was made to instead focus on domestic industry. And the most important industry for Angola remained, as we discussed last episode, the oil business. The oil firm's presence in Angola was, rather ironically, led by Americans, whose government supported rebels against Angola's government. Paradoxically, the oil companies were, in the early Reagan years, some of the strongest advocates for peace in Angola. Time will take care of Angola, one oil exec told the Wall Street Journal. Quote, the Angolans are more and more development-oriented. They aren't interested in politicizing Central Africa on behalf of Cuba or the Soviet Union. Our people aren't persona non grata in Angola. And to a casual observer, the 1981 decision to grant Angola $85 million in credits from the U.S. Export-Import Bank to develop oil fields for Texas-based Gulf oil, well, that might have seemed like outright moderation from the Reaganauts on Angola. There is a certain irony, noted Congressman Howard Wolpe, a Michigan Democrat and fierce critic of the Reagan-Africa policy. While we are facilitating private sector American investment, which makes sense from the standpoint of American business interests and energy requirements, we still maintain a posture of diplomatic non-recognition. End quote. More than a dozen American oil companies were in line or under contract with the Angolan government, which made for an unconventional peace lobby. Or to look at it another way, it allowed U.S. officials to talk out of both sides of their mouths. One anonymous State Department official told the Wall Street Journal, we're not going to rock the boat, but we have national security interests. The British magazine The Economist, taking stock of this awkwardness, noted that, quote, American corporations that are making money in black-ruled Africa have been made nervous by various indications of coziness between the new U.S. administration and the white minority government of South Africa. In fact, just as several State Department officials were meeting with the South African government in Cape Town recently, high-ranking American executives were sitting down in New York for an unprecedented talk with Mr. Oliver Tambo, the president of the African National Congress, the ANC. It was clear that the executives wanted to be prepared for any eventuality in Southern Africa's future. That may also be what the Reagan administration, in its own clumsy way, is trying to ensure. End quote. Caught between John Birch society hawks and the corporate lobby, the White House would need to change facts on the ground before it could make any big policy move on Angola, however much affection Reagan himself had for Savimbi. In the late autumn of 1980, Jonas Savimbi and Unita managed to capture the town of Mavinga. After a year of escalating attacks on MPLA positions, Savimbi's forces were seeking the kind of major victory that they could brandish to the world. In May 1981, they got their wish. MPLA forces, writes Clehesus, tried to retake Mavinga and were repulsed. It was Unita's first successful defense of a town. We realized, said one senior Angolan military officer, that Unita was very strong. By the end of June 81, Western reporters at Savimbi's invitation were in Mavinga, on hand to describe Yanita's long-sought battlefield victory. Fred Bridgeland, the British reporter whom we've cited on this show, and Dick Harwood, one of the Washington Post's most celebrated journalists. Our entry into Mavinga was like a clip from High Noon, writes Bridgeland. No one stirred because no one was there. To Yanita, it was a precious jewel, a tangible symbol of its capacity to attack and defeat. in open country, a modern army of Angolan troops backed up by Cuban soldiers and Soviet logistical help. 800 MPLA troops were killed by Unita's count, adds Harwood. Unita's own casualties, he reports, were light. Hundreds of weapons, large stores of ammunition, and more than 70 trucks were captured in the Mavinga actions, including the despicable iron monsters that brought us here, by which he means planes. But perhaps the most memorable part of Mavinga was a morality play staged by Unita in honor of the victory. Bridgeland reports. On the big open parade ground, actors playing Leonid Brezhnev, Fidel Castro, and Agostinho Neto greeted each other in exaggerated fashion as compañeros, before driving a devil's bargain. Brezhnev and Castro would send arms and men to Angola to drive out the Unita stooges. Neto would give them the country's diamonds, oil, coffee, and fish in payment. In the next act, Cuban soldiers arrived and began killing Angolan peasants, giving the soldiers full scope to display their acting talents. While in the forest, Unita was recruiting and training guerrillas. Finally, the morality play concluded as Unita attacked and Brezhnev and Castro were driven from Angola. In Harwood's report, he explicitly wrote that in one of his stories, quote, I'm not an expert on Africa or Angola or on Savimbi. This is perhaps why he only wrote that Savimbi was connected or trading with the South Africans. When the Washington Postman asked straight up whether the apartheid regime had helped Savimbi take Mavinga, South Africa provided no weapons, was Savimbi's answer, and it did not engage in joint military operations with UNITA. But the reality was different. The truth, writes Bridgeland, was that South Africa was providing UNITA with massive logistical support. Unknown to us at the time, the South African Air Force had already begun using the Mavinga airstrip to ferry supplies to UNITA by transport aircraft and helicopters. Our reports eased UNITA's diplomatic task. a senior UNITA officer told me that officials and journalists in Europe became much more willing to give UNITA a hearing, end quote. And if anything, Mavinga appeared to be merely the first step of a much larger South African operation to come. The government of Angola charged that two South African armored columns invaded inside Angolan territory today and were engaged in violent combat. Angola ordered a general mobilization of its armed forces. South Africa said only that its forces routinely carried out cross-border operations against guerrillas fighting in Namibia but based in Angola. In Washington, State Department officials report that South Africa has been building up its forces near Angola in response to an influx of Soviet-supplied weapons in Angola, particularly SAM anti-aircraft missiles. On August 23rd, 1981, South African planes struck Angolan radar bases, and the following day, Apartheid's army, the SADF, launched an invasion across the border again. It was called Operation Protea. Under the pretense that they were targeting SWAPO bases, 4,000 to 5,000 soldiers charged through Angola's southwestern provinces. It was, quote, the biggest mechanized operation by the South African army since the end of World War II, says the South African chief of the army at the time. It is true, writes Glehesis, quote, that in Operation Protea, the South Africans inflicted heavy blows on Swapo, but they did much more, venting their fury against the MPLA and Angola's infrastructure. The invasion was so brazen that it provoked widespread condemnation from Western governments in Paris, in London, in Bonn, in Ottawa, but not in Washington. In a release, the State Department made sure to spread the blame for South Africa's invasion of Angola around. Quote, The continued presence of Cuban combat forces in Angola, six years after its independence, and the provision of Soviet-originated arms for SWAPO are also a part." But surely what mattered more to the South Africans than flattering words from the U.S. State Department was what the Americans actually did at the United Nations. At the same time it backed Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge's claim on Cambodia's seat at the U.N., the United States used its perch on the U.N. Security Council to defend South Africa's invasion, using its veto power against a resolution condemning Praetoria's actions. As a result, according to Glehesis, South Africa was emboldened. The apartheid state launched three more offensive operations between November 81 and the summer of 1982, codenamed Daisy, Super, and Meebos. Over time, South Africa was able to occupy much of Angola's southernmost Kunene province. Despite public claims to the contrary these operations were about more than targeting Swapo insurgents According to one account by a senior South African officer the SADF quote was trying to establish a neutral buffer zone along the Namibia border In order to achieve this, the South African troops were killing livestock, poisoning wells, disrupting local communications, and preventing distribution of food. Such tactics would alienate the local population from Luanda and Swapo. UNIDA, on the other hand, was being supplied with arms as well as food to distribute in the border areas. South Africa says its troops in Angola are returning whence they came five days ago, the South African-controlled territory of Namibia. The general who led the raid against guerrilla strongholds says his troops reached a guerrilla base 60 miles inside Angola. And today, several foreign reporters were taken there for a visit. Despite the obvious fondness for Savimbi from the orbit of Reagan, even in 1981, when Al Haig had invited South African foreign minister Pikbuta to Washington, there were major domestic drawbacks to having Savimbi make an official visit. But after Mavinga, the situation was different. As Bridgeland puts it, he and Dick Harwood at the Post had, quote, put the Angola War back on the international journalism map. By December, Savimbi was ready for another visit to D.C., sponsored again by the American Enterprise Institute and Freedom House, as well as the American Security Council, a Cold War lobby group with ties to the defense establishment. The timing was good, too. There was yet another attempt underway to repeal the pesky Clark Amendment and to get military aid directly to UNITA, which was now advancing northward under South African cover. Savimbi, once again, presented himself as all things to everybody. To hawks in Congress, he emphasized his anti-Cuban and anti-Soviet bona fides. To critics of apartheid, like Howard Wolpe, he stressed political reconciliation with the MPLA. But as before, only the most right-wing outlets, like Human Events or the Wall Street Journal editorial page, took him as seriously as he wanted. Even the State Department, which granted Savimbi a friendly meeting, explicitly said afterwards that it was still considering recognizing the MPLA government in Luanda. If the Savimbi visit was intended to boost support for the repeal of the Clark Amendment, writes Windrich, it failed in its purpose. The Congressional Black Caucus and others in the Democrat-controlled House of Representatives remained opposed to the repeal. But as we've discussed, clandestine U.S. aid was already winding its way to Savimbi through third parties. news of which was leaking out to the press. In the British paper The Observer, for instance, it was reported that during Savimbi's trip, quote, he was given to understand that, if necessary, ways and means would be found to bypass the Clark Amendment. Last week, the reporter wrote, Savimbi told me that he was very interested in the idea of a government of national reconciliation. and that UNITA had established unofficial contacts with the MPLA. The principal aim was to get the Cubans out of Angola. The interview took place in a suburban villa in Morocco, surrounded by a large garden in which a pack of hounds roamed. Savimbi was wearing a khaki military sweater. Whatever the officially stated positions of the Angolan parties, wrote the observer, events on the ground do appear to be moving in Savimbi's favor. Indeed, the increasingly open alignment of Reagan with Savimbi was cause for concern for Angola. The dire economic situation in that country, the military gains by South Africa and UNITA at the end of 81 and throughout the next couple years, these factors were pushing Luanda to re-evaluate its own strategy. The Soviet Union, Angola's most significant benefactor outside of the Cuban troops, was at this time desperate to mend fences with the Americans. And while Luanda prepared to participate in a new round of U.S. facilitated talks on linkage, the worsening condition of the war might make such discussions moot. What if Unita, helped by South Africa, made further advances? So, Lucio Lara and the Angolans once again went to Havana to review their options. After having negotiated a Cuban drawdown in 1979, writes Gleheses, quote, Angola wanted to return to a closer relationship, and it wanted increased Cuban participation on the battlefield and in the war councils, end quote. The Cubans acquiesced, and in a change from their strategy to focus solely on protecting Angola from South African attacks, agreed to help in the fight against UNITA, committing over 2,700 troops to counter guerrilla activities. By early 1983, as the South African Unita threat intensified, the total Cuban troop presence in Angola reached 30,000. In a joint public statement released in early 1982, the Cubans and Angolans agreed to resume withdrawing Cuban forces, according to the strict implementation of UN Resolution 435, the one meant to secure Namibian independence and South African retreat. how realistic was that possibility? When Lucio Lara told a New York Times reporter just prior to Reagan's inauguration that the Cubans could leave when Namibia was independent, he wasn't necessarily anticipating that linkage would become the watchword of the new administration. He was just describing reality. The threat to Angola from South Africa mostly came through Namibia. If Namibia was free, then Angola was safe. Simple. But a year later, the proposal for a Cuban withdrawal from Angola, offered by both of those parties, was far too mild for the Americans' liking. Chester Crocker wanted a simultaneous withdrawal, not one broken up into stages. Even though his hardliner boss Al Haig had resigned mere months into his term due to personality issues, during the March 81 assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan, Haig had infamously claimed, I am in charge. Haig's replacement as Secretary of State, George Shultz, was happy to keep the pressure on Angola. But Neto's successor, Eduardo dos Santos, flatly rejected the idea of a sudden simultaneous withdrawal, as Glehesis writes. Still, the Angolans pursued diplomacy, opting to meet directly with the South Africans in Cape Verde, an island nation up the Atlantic coast. But these talks, a South African general later said, were a dialogue of the death. Angola had no concessions to offer South Africa, and the apartheid state was more and more embracing a strategy of total onslaught, which we mentioned last episode and is evidenced by the attacks of this episode. The South African generals had great plans for Angola, writes Gleheses. It would be the centerpiece of the constellation of southern African states that they had sought to create. The constellation, he writes, would stretch beyond South Africa, its Bantustans, Lesotho, Malawi, Botswana, and Swaziland, to embrace Angola, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Zaire, and a nominally independent Namibia. The black government members of this constellation would be partners. They would be anti-communist, tolerant of apartheid, and eager to persecute the ANC and Swapo. Naturally, these generals did not believe in American ideas of linkage. If the Cubans left Angola, that would have been swell, more room for Savimbi or another running dog of apartheid to take control. But so long as Swapo was poised to be in control of any free Namibian government, South Africa would not tolerate it. But diplomacy required putting on a polite face. Ahead of a meeting with the Americans, a South African diplomat warned his colleagues in a memo of the risk of making it seem like the South Africans would only tolerate a military solution to their Swapo problem. While senior diplomats like Chester Crocker and Lawrence Eagleburger had supported breaking some diplomatic China, their words, with South African aggression in 1981, by late 1982, they felt that it was time for carrots, not sticks. But, as we've seen, getting rid of SWAPA was just one piece of a larger strategy to preserve apartheid South Africa's pole position in the region. and the South Africans considered the Americans fair-weather friends, writes Glehesis, and declined to share the full extent of their plans for further war. In early 1983, Fred Bridgeland accompanied Yanita forces as they took control of another town, Conganga. His report, mostly sympathetic to Savimbi and his troops, illustrates the particular devastation of this war. and how Unita laid waste to an entire town. Saboteur teams began demolishing the town. A massive steel water tank that had served the Bengala Railway's great steam engines was blown up. The stationmaster's wooden house disappeared in one mighty blast. A road petrol tanker exploded like a giant bomb, making us hit the deck again as big metal fragments hurtled overhead. Work began on the destruction of the rail line. The Bengela Railway was single-track, but sightings at Kanganga permitted trains to pass in opposite directions. Plastic explosives twisted the rails into grotesque shapes, ensuring that trains would not run over them again. UNITA put RPG shells through all of the steam engines to deny their use to the MPLA. Many soldiers were leading liberated goats. Others had live ducks and chickens tied to their packs. It had been a day that was professionally exciting and emotionally and philosophically profoundly sobering. Hundreds of civilians, about one-third of them children, were being led away for resettlement in Unita-held areas. Nearly 600 civilians, including 200 children, had been rounded up from the town and brought to the Unita forest bases. They would be distributed, said a Unita commander, two or three families to a village, in Unita's area of control. Political commissars would keep an eye on them until they were fully integrated or re-educated. Bridgeland recalls the memory of one Unita commander, Ben Ben. One evening after the battle as we twiddled through various radio stations, the dial hit Radio South Africa, which reported Foreign Minister Pik Bottas saying his country was willing to consider giving aid to any Soviet liberation movement in black Africa that asked for it. The statement was heavy with irony, because the South African government, without informing its own parliament, was already aiding at least three anti-Soviet liberation movements, including UNITA. Benben collapsed in laughter at Butta's absurd duplicity and said, we're not even having to ask them. A few months later, there was another notable battle, this time directed at an MPLA stronghold. Congamba was a town of a few thousand residents at the edge of the battle line held by Cuban forces, one of the only MPLA strongholds left in an area increasingly dominated by Yanida battalions. In July 1983, the brigade of 818 Angolans and 92 Cuban advisors stationed there came under attack by an estimated 6,000 Yanida forces. Thanks to Cuban air support, the garrison at Kangamba initially held out, a heroic victory against larger, well-trained forces. After just over a week of fighting, the UNITA attackers withdrew. This prompted Fidel Castro to quickly message President Dos Santos. We won a great battle, but now we must leave Kangamba. The Soviet advisors, on the other hand, suggested the Angolans double down. The Cubans, following Castro's orders, left. But Kangamba had no air defenses, and when Unida returned days later with South African airstrikes to assist them, the town fell quickly. Although a Cuban general who subsequently defected to the United States would later claim that the Cubans had here abandoned the Angolans, Glehesa says that this isn't true. The Cubans had, in fact, repeatedly asked the Angolans to leave with them. But Luanda and Moscow were too slow to move. It was a bruising loss, cutting off Angola's second-largest city, Huambo, from huge chunks of the country. The Cubans' top man in Angola, Jorge Risquet, soon met with Dos Santos to say that Havana was willing to send more reinforcements in light of the apparently escalating threat. The following day, the Cubans flew to Moscow to explain the situation. More weapons are necessary. Only the Soviet Union can supply them. Already the Cubans had begun secretly shipping tank battalions and motorized infantry According to Gleheses the Cuban contingent now increased from 30 to 39 in the year after Congamba Negotiations with the United States were off for now And recognizing the new strain that Angola was under Castro told Dos Santos in a long, sympathetic letter sent that autumn that Cuba would, quote, not charge for our technical assistance. This Cuban support, as in 1975, could not have come any later. In December of 83, South Africa launched another invasion Operation Askari This time, again, the Soviets clashed with the Cubans A conflict of leadership that resulted in MPLA soldiers staying put When they should have retreated to a different position It also resulted in a South African victory Though fiercer than expected fighting had forced South Africa to back off and make an offer of withdrawal. Praetoria had made real gains. And whatever reservations the Americans once had about South African aggression, they now seized diplomatic initiative. In January and February 1984, the Angolans and Americans worked out a deal in Zambia's capital city of Lusaka. The so-called Lusaka Agreement that these talks produced provided for the withdrawal of South African forces from Angolan territory, writes Gleheses, quote, in exchange for an Angolan commitment not to allow SWAPO or Cuban forces to operate in the area vacated by the South Africans. This treaty was followed up quickly by another, called the Incomadi Pact, named for the river separating Mozambique from South Africa. No longer could ANC militants use Mozambican territory for activities against the apartheid state. This flurry of deal-making was a bad omen for the anti-apartheid struggle in Africa. On the same day that the Encomadi Pact was signed, Angolan President Dos Santos touched down in Havana. Although the Cubans were distressed that the Angolans had signed the Lusaka agreement without consulting either the Soviets or the Cubans, Castro affirmed support for Luanda's cause, promising free medical aid on top of the free technical support already being provided. This visit, like the one two years earlier, also ended with a joint statement on the Cuban-Angolan position, and it echoed that previous tepid endorsement of linkage. But there was one new development, writes Gleheses. Quote, the 1982 declaration had not mentioned Yanita. The March 19, 1984 communique stipulated that the end of all aid to Yanita by Pretoria and Washington was a precondition for the beginning of the withdrawal of the Cuban troops. End quote. Until now, Jonas Savimbi and Unida had been a part of South African strategy, but were by no means the centerpiece of South African actions against SWAPO, the ANC, and Angola. Unida was just one piece of this constellation of friendly states that Pretoria wanted to put together. But over time, Savimbi, as well as his lobbying operation in D.C., had become an invaluable resource. Ronald Reagan's White House had picked up where Zbigniew Brzezinski had left off, activating the network known as the Safari Club. This, as we mentioned in our season on Afghanistan, was a group of friendly countries, or intelligence agents and elites therein, with whom the U.S. could wage secret wars that Congress had disallowed or wasn't meant to know existed. Starting in 1981, writes scholar George Wright, Safari Club member Saudi Arabia supplied fellow Safari Club member Morocco with $50 million to $70 million annually to train UNITA personnel. Another country in the network, Israel, supplied arms to UNITA. It also, quote, trained UNITA guerrillas in Namibia and Zaire. All these activities were carried out with Savimbi's primary sponsor, the South Africans. But Savimbi's operation was expensive, beyond even what South Africa could offer to support him. Savimbi needed money, writes Jan Breitenbach, a founder of the South African Special Forces, who worked with Savimbi extensively. Quote, plenty of money. To pay for his various offices overseas, his frequent trips to woo the world's leaders to the side of Unita, to grease a few palms, to buy expensive wristwatches for his cronies, and to build up the several bank accounts he and his friends had squirreled away in Switzerland and elsewhere. The ongoing war made access to large towns and harbors inside Angola impossible for Unita. Somehow, money had to be made. Accounts of Unita operations during this period offer shades of what was to come in the later years of Khmer Rouge insurgency in the 80s and 90s. fighting the Marxists, yes, but also turning a buck through smuggling, bartering, and looting. Bridgeland gives an account of how some of this entrepreneurialism worked in the field on the road back to the Unita base at Jamba. Quote, at one village, as we continued south, we watched as a Unita trading officer bartered clothing and salt in exchange for villagers' surplus food and for ivory and animal skins. Barefooted and dressed in ragged clothes, they had brought elephant and warthog tusks, balls of wild beeswax and python, leopard and crocodile skins, which they exchanged for trousers, shirts, blouses, and brassieres, stuffing these into big black plastic bags to carry back to their villages. The rate of barter exchange was seven pieces of clothing for an elephant tusk and six for a leopard skin. Once back in Jamba, we slept between crisply ironed sheets in large huts with electric light. We ate off English china in a mess where waiters served egg and chips. The tablecloths were sky blue, and the coffee came in silver pots. And there was welcome cold beer in cans, imprinted with an exhortation to keep South Africa tidy. A more infamous case of Savimbi's buckraking was his mass capture of 66 Czechoslovak civilians. Men and women who had been working to get a decommissioned cellulose and paper factory back up and running. These prisoners were seized by UNITA troops and forced to march 800 miles over 100 days. At first, Savimbi didn't believe he had found a golden ticket. Intelligence had told them there were only a few people in the compound, not dozens. And his first instinct was to simply liquidate all of them. But his next instinct was to make some money. Savimbi held onto the hostages for over a year. A Czech diplomat later recalled in an interview what Savimbi expected to trade them for. Savimbi demanded $300,000 to cover food and board for the year they were holding our men captive. I told him that we could discuss that option, but that in that case we would announce that we had paid a ransom for our captured citizens, and that at that moment UNITA could change from a national liberation movement into a pack of bandits who had kidnapped our citizens for ransom. Savimbi thought about that and said, fine, I'll free them unconditionally. I only ask that none of them return to our country for the duration of the conflict. But perhaps the most lucrative trade for Savimbi was his business with the South Africans. Although he would mention dealing ivory in his press encounters with Western journalists, few of them ever understood either the scope or illegality of what Savimbi was talking about. Nor did they grasp the extent of the smuggling partnership that he had entered into with elements of South African military intelligence. In an interview years later, which was circulated worldwide, Jan Bretenbach told reporters of just how widespread ivory smuggling and the hunting of elephants had become as a result of the civil war in Angola. Recalling a man who came to him, Breitenbach said that he came back from an operation in Angola and he wanted to replenish his ammunition. He walked into a store to acquire ammunition, opened the box, and there were tusks inside. So then he went to another one and found more tusks and more tusks and more tusks and more tusks. He was then a young captain. Then he went to his superior, who was a commandant, a lieutenant colonel, and he said to him, Sir, are you aware of the fact that there are hundreds of boxes of ivory in our store? Because I went in there to go and get ammunition, and all I could find was ivory. So his superior hauled him over the coals and said, You'd better shut up. It's got nothing to do with you. If you put your nose into our affairs, then somebody will sort you out. The inner workings of the UNITA movement were, at this time, mysterious to outsiders. Savimbi ran a tight ship, and there were few UNITA members who both traveled outside their territory and who were free to speak about the movement. Although Savimbi had a reputation for personal brutality, as did his troops, it was not until years later that news of some of the worst horrors began to emerge. September 7th, 1983 specifically, would later be known as Red September. On that day, Savimbi ordered everyone in Jamba to the Central Parade Ground. Those who arrived, writes Bridgeland, saw a giant stack of wood at its center and blindfolded men tied to trees at the edge of the parade ground. We've mentioned before in this season how, in the earlier days of the war, local populations would use accusations of witchcraft to settle scores in Angola's countryside. Even the secular MPLA would entertain this. But Savimbi would take this gruesome practice to a whole new level Addressing the crowd, Savimbi accused witches of having been behind recent Unita setbacks on the battlefield This day, Savimbi told the crowd, would be the last day that these witches would draw breath Bridgeland writes An armed detachment walked towards the blindfolded men The soldiers lined up, fired, and the men slumped dead. Savimbi had only just begun. He ordered every person in the crowd, children also, to pick up a twig each and cast it onto the woodpile. The giant bonfire was lit. Savimbi called the names of women and asked them to step forward. Some had children. they too would die with their mothers because, quote, a snake's offspring is also a snake. The women, Bridgeland writes, whose names Savimbi had read out were ordered to stand before the presidential platform. Eyewitnesses said the first woman whose name was called jumped from the fire and begged for mercy. Savimbi always wore at his waist an ivory-handled pistol that fascinated reporters. Now he drew the gun and forced the woman back into the fire where she perished. End quote. The spectacle was repeated over and over again, with at least 13 women and children condemned to death in the fire. Those who were spared, but still on a list to be condemned, suffered other punishments. Some were made prisoners. Others were executed, shot, or hacked to death with machetes. Some were made to wear on their faces the ashes of those who had burned on the pyre. One woman, who was taken prisoner later, wrote that Savimbi's obsession with witchcraft was tied to a desire to dominate women. It was becoming clear what life would be like should Jonas Savimbi ever win the war in Angola. The woman taken prisoner put it simply. Jonas Savimbi led his followers into evil and antisocial, psychopathic behavior. He created an atmosphere. An atmosphere of fear and paranoia. For many in Unita, according to the historian Justin Pierce, it was difficult to reconcile Jonas Savimbi, the nationalist hero, with Jonas Savimbi, killer of your family. Yeah, there's one account of this, for example, by Samuel Chihuahue, who was one of Unita's senior military officers, very, very loyal to Savimbi, who then kind of got on the wrong side of Savimbi, was suspected of disloyalty. in his memoir which was written and published only after Savinbi died Chiwale writes about seeing his own aunt being burned alive as a witch he sees his own wife being forcibly married to another Unita officer while Chiwale himself is in prison and you can see in the kind of anguished writings He's battling to come to terms with this. He believed in UNITA, in the rightness of UNITA as a political cause, and really, really struggled to process this extreme cruelty and brutality meted out by the leader whom he so admired.