Atrocities, Diamonds and Diplomacy Page 15

  Before we left Makeni we also visited the HANCI orphanage on the outskirts of town. This was the home supported by the British charity, Hope and Homes, set up by Colonel Mark Cook. This too had suffered, but the children were now back with the dedicated Sierra Leone staff. Among the children was Tenneh Cole, the little deaf girl who had been shot through the jaw and had been sent to a hospital in Southampton in England for surgery and treatment. The story had attracted a great deal of publicity in the British press at the time prior to our arrival in Sierra Leone.

  The case of Tenneh Cole raised the question of who should one help in the midst of widespread deprivation, how much should one do for one individual when there were so many who needed help? Some people felt that instead of spending so much money on flying one child to Britain, one could use the same money to bring help to many more locally. There was even the risk that the person helped might be treated with envy back home and ostracized. Even the HANCI orphanage itself was regarded by some of the people of Makeni in this light. They felt that too much was being done for the children there and not enough for the countless others in the town. It was sad, but understandable, to meet such reactions. However, in my view it was better to help a few than nobody and often by helping one person one might attract publicity and thereby encourage more help for others. I was to bump into Tenneh unexpectedly the following year. After the orphanage in Makeni was overrun again by rebels she was brought to the Deaf and Dumb School, alongside the Blind School, in Freetown.

  Generally there was little need for orphanages and old folks homes in Africa because of the ‘extended family’ practice. An African considered it was his duty, no matter how poor he or she may be, to offer a home to any member of his or her family, no matter how distant the relationship. It was one of several African practices from which we in the West could learn. However, poor Sierra Leone had suffered so much killing and deprivation that even the extended family practice could not cope with the problems of the orphans and aged.

  During the visit to Makeni I had met with the northern chiefs and presented a wind-up radio to each one of them. Not to be outdone by their western and southern colleagues they said that they wanted to make me an honorary paramount chief for the Northern Region. They would make arrangements for my next visit. I continued to stress that I saw these honours as an expression of the gratitude that the Sierra Leone people felt not towards me personally but towards the government and people of Britain whom I represented. Tony Lloyd was to announce to the House of Commons that there was probably nowhere on the planet more pro-British than Sierra Leone.

  I am sure that he was right although my colleagues back in the Foreign Office appeared to be somewhat embarrassed by all this warmth and friendship. They continued to view the Kabbah government with suspicion and appeared to be always looking for something to criticize them about. This attitude was seen no more clearly than when a clip of film appeared on French television that showed soldiers in Sierra Leone army uniforms executing some civilians in the bush. The department in the Foreign Office immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was evidence that President Kabbah’s government was also responsible for human rights violations. James Jonah, the Minister of Finance, was visiting Britain at the time and Tony Lloyd was briefed to confront him with these accusations and warn him that all British assistance to Sierra Leone would cease. I tried to point out to my colleagues that almost certainly the film must be covering some of the executions carried out by the army on the innocent civilians during the period of the junta rule. Indeed, the film sounded very similar to the footage that had been put together by Julius Spencer, the Minister of Information, to demonstrate to the international community just how evil the AFRC had been. The department was sceptical of my interpretation. James Jonah was summoned into the Office and shown the clip of film. Dr Jonah immediately recognized the clip from Julius Spencer’s film, and told his interrogators so. There were a few red faces.

  But there were to be further developments that would put a strain on the close relationship between Britain and Sierra Leone. For the previous few months members of the junta and their supporters had been appearing in court to face treason charges. When President Kabbah had returned a number of people around him had advised that he should carry out immediate executions of those members of the junta and their cronies who had been captured. Kabbah insisted that they should follow the rule of law and that they should face trial.

  Treason Trials and Executions

  Around 100 people were charged with treason in both civilian and military courts. Prosecuting so many people for treason would have been demanding for any country, let alone Sierra Leone given the state of the country, but nonetheless they went ahead under the supervision of the hardworking Attorney General, Solomon Berewa. Human Rights activists, including representatives from the International Bar Association, flew in to observe the trials, which were open to the public and televised. Every night one could tune into Sierra Leone television to watch the proceedings, which had an air of unreality about them. The setting was a British court with the lawyers dressed in gowns and wigs, but the scene was African.

  The civilians were tried in three separate courts. Under the Sierra Leone Treason and State Offences Act merely accepting a position from or acting in support of the illegal junta constituted a treasonable offence, and the conviction for treason was death. Hence most of the civilians were found guilty and sentenced to death. This led to articles appearing in the British press saying in effect that Kabbah’s government was no better than the junta. These were the supposed ‘good guys’, but they were carrying out mass executions. There were demands that British ministers should intercede with President Kabbah. I pointed out that the international observers had all noted that the trials had been free and fair and that there would still be a long drawn-out appeals process before the decision whether to go ahead with the executions could be brought to the Prerogative of Mercy Committee and the President.

  Nevertheless, Tony Lloyd felt impelled to telephone President Kabbah to plea for clemency and followed this up with a letter. The Sierra Leone people reacted badly to what they saw as interference in their judicial process. They did not understand why the British Government should be so concerned for these people who had subjected them to such acts of brutality and misery, especially as the rebels were still continuing their atrocities in the bush. Demonstrations against Britain were planned but in the end they did not take place because, I was told, of the continued high esteem the people held for me. I explained to President Kabbah that it was not that we had any special feelings for these terrible people but that it was the policy of the new government in Britain to oppose the use of capital punishment anywhere in the world and to encourage all governments to abolish it. In response he pointed out that it was only in recent times that capital punishment had been abolished in Britain and in relative terms Sierra Leone developmentally was still a hundred years behind Britain. We could not expect a country like Sierra Leone to be as advanced socially and morally. What Kabbah failed to mention was that although capital punishment for murder had been abolished in Britain back in 1969, the death sentence for treason had only just been abolished in the UK through the passage of the Criminal Justice Bill on 31 July of that year.

  The position with the convicted soldiers was different. The thirty-four soldiers who had been found guilty by the military courts martial did not have recourse to an appeal process. This had been removed from the statute books by President Stevens back in 1971. Therefore, on 19 October, within a week of their conviction, twenty-four of them were executed by firing squad.

  They included several of those who had first appeared at the residence the day following the 25 May coup – Corporal Gborie, the first to announce the coup that Sunday morning over the radio, Sergeant Zagallo, who had been responsible for the worst of the looting, Squadron Leader Victor King, the helicopter gunship pilot, Captain Johnny Moore, who had been assisting Lincoln Jopp with our military tra
ining programme, and the AFRC’s ‘chaplain’, the Reverend Josiah Pratt. Among the others executed were Brigadier Hassan Conteh, the Chief of Defence Staff, Colonel Max Kanga, the Chief of Army Staff, and Colonel A.K. Sesay, one of the senior officers who had taken over the negotiations at the residence and was to become the AFRC’s Secretary General. Somewhat controversially there was one female officer executed, Major Kula Samba, who had been attached to the Triple R Commission.

  The executions took place at the 7th Battalion’s headquarters at Goderich, on the outskirts of Freetown. Although there had been no announcement, word soon spread around and a crowd of up to 5,000 people gathered to witness the executions, including the media, who carried graphic reports of the event. The condemned soldiers were brought down from the back of an army truck and led across to a line of stakes fixed in the ground. Each convicted soldier, as he was blindfolded and tied to a stake, had something to say. Gborie sang in Krio, ‘Tell Papa God Tenki’ (Tell God Thank You). Sesay called out, ‘Goodbye all of you. We are going to shed our blood for peace.’ Kanga, recognizing someone in the crowd, asked him to tell his family to take care of his building materials. One of them said, laughing, ‘I am going to die as a hero,’ while another cried out, ‘Please tell my people goodbye. Let them don’t seek revenge, my soul will rest in peace.’ As the Reverend Pratt was tied to his stake he sang, ‘Unto Jesus I surrender.’ Several others abused the Ecomog soldiers who were present – ‘You live by coups in Nigeria. Did you kill any of them? Why kill us now?’ Only Kula Samba remained silent throughout the entire events.

  The warrants of execution were read out by the police officers overseeing the execution. Christian and Moslem prayers were said by a priest and an Imam, and then the firing squad of Sierra Leone soldiers, their faces blackened with charcoal, lined up in front of those tied to the stakes. At 4.22 pm the order rang out: ‘Fire.’ Ten minutes later the firing stopped as the bodies hung limply on the stakes. Some twitches of movement came from the bodies of Gborie and Conteh. Further shots were fired and all the bodies were still. The large crowd clapped and cheered as twenty-four coffins were brought forward and laid in front of the dead bodies. The female radio announcer covering the proceedings announced, ‘A job well done.’

  The President exercised clemency for the remaining ten so that we were able to claim that our demands for clemency had been acted upon to a certain extent. He told me that Britain had been the only country in the world to make representations about the executions. He clearly had suffered much personal anguish over the decisions but there was little doubt that if the executions had not been carried out there would have been riots on the streets and a real chance that President Kabbah might have been overthrown.

  Aware of the deeply held views of the people and the risks of further instability, I had felt uncomfortable lobbying President Kabbah over the executions, even though I had done so. But I did wonder whether this was a policy pursued as energetically by HMG everywhere. About a week later I heard over the BBC Focus on Africa that someone had been convicted of murder and sentenced to death in the neighbouring West African state of Benin. I brought this to the attention of the department in London and said that I assumed that we would be making representations to the Benin government in line with our policy to condemn and seek clemency for anyone convicted for capital punishment anywhere in the world. The department were not aware of the case but a telegram was sent to our High Commission in Nigeria, who covered Benin, instructing them to raise the matter with the Benin government. The latter must have wondered what on earth was going on. There was very little substance to the UK’s relations with this former French colony. Months could go by without any communication between the two governments. And then suddenly out of the blue they received a message from the British Foreign Office complaining about some obscure Benin criminal who had been convicted for murder! The High Commission carried out their instructions. They reported back that the person was unlikely to die as no capital punishment had been carried out in Benin for several years. I felt that the point had been made; an ‘ethical foreign policy’ should be applied even-handedly; though I did wonder whether Robin Cook telephoned the US Secretary of State each time someone in the United States was convicted of murder and executed.

  Four days after the execution of the soldiers, Foday Sankoh’s trial reached its conclusion. Sankoh had been returned to Freetown by the Nigerians in July and kept in detention in an undisclosed and closely guarded location away from the others in Pademba Road prison. His trial had got underway in early October and again the proceedings were televised. Sankoh displayed no remorse for the evil he had inflicted. He would taunt the police officers assigned to guard him in the court house: ‘Have you been paid by the government? Have you been fed today?’ On 23 October a jury found him guilty on seven out of nine counts of treason. High Court judge Samuel Ademosu sentenced him to death. Sankoh’s lawyer lodged an appeal and Sankoh remained in jail pending his appeal.

  Some have argued subsequently that if the appeal process had been completed and Sankoh had been executed, Sierra Leone may not have had to face the future disruptions and loss of lives; but this did not take account of the further ‘interference’ from the international community.

  Foreign Affairs Select Committee Inquiry

  Back in Britain MPs had returned from their summer break and the Foreign Affairs Select Committee of the House of Commons (FAC) was gearing itself up to continue its investigation of the scandal surrounding the Arms to Africa affair. Robin Cook’s hope that the FAC would have got tired of the matter after their summer holidays had not materialized. The MPs still felt that there were opportunities to embarrass the government. I was summoned back to London to appear before the Committee.

  Robin Cook and Sir John Kerr had already appeared before the FAC a couple of times before the summer recess and had been given a rough time. They had been reluctant to release papers on the Sandline affair or to allow other officials to be questioned, especially before the Legg Inquiry had been completed, but the committee continued to demand my presence. I wrote to Sir John saying that although I must be guided by him and the Secretary of State, personally I had no objection to appearing before the FAC. Robin Cook agreed that both Ann Grant and I should appear before the committee. Ann had been promoted and was now the Director for Africa, replacing Richard Dales, who had gone off to be Ambassador in Norway. All the other members of the African Department who had been dealing with Sierra Leone – Craig Murray, Tim Andrews and Lynda St Cooke – had been replaced. I was therefore the only one still doing the same job since the Sandline affair broke.

  The hearing before the FAC was fixed for 3 November. Again I had the benefit of Stephen Pollard’s advice. The meeting was held in the Grand Committee Room of the House of Commons. The committee comprised twelve representatives from both sides of the House under the chairmanship of Donald Anderson MP. In the way that Sierra Leone had become a pawn in West African politics, so here in the UK she had become caught up in British politics. One felt that for some members of the committee the main purpose was not to establish exactly what had happened in Sierra Leone but what could be done to embarrass Robin Cook and the government. Some members of the committee had taken a lot of time and trouble to read the multitude of documents about the case that Robin Cook had finally agreed to make available to the committee. Others appeared to have only been guided by the findings of the Legg Inquiry and press comment. Each member of the committee was given an allotted time with the result that the questioning did not follow any logical path. One darted backwards and forwards in the sequence of events and often went over the same ground on more than one occasion. The whole event was televised and was open to the press and public.

  Tim Spicer was to give evidence before me and I sat patiently behind him among the public audience with my solicitors and colleagues from the office listening to him give his version of events. He dealt competently with the variety of questions thrown at him for a couple o
f hours. He denied that Sandline was linked in any way with Branch Energy or Executive Outcomes. He insisted that he had kept HMG fully informed about what he was doing throughout his meetings with me and officials in the Foreign Office and that nobody had advised him that the supply of arms would be in breach of the sanctions. He admitted that he had known President Kabbah since the time the latter had been elected to office and had had a number of discussions with him and therefore did not need to use me as a conduit to the President. He was emphatic that Craig Murray and Tim Andrews could have been in no doubt following the meeting held in the Foreign Office on 19 January that Sandline would be supplying arms to President Kabbah and Ecomog as part of the contract and that he had received no warning from them that this would be in breach of sanctions. David Wilshire MP put it to Spicer that somebody was lying about what took place at the 19 January meeting, to which Spicer replied that this was an implication for the committee to make.

  As the committee broke for a ten-minute break we exchanged hellos. This was the first time that we had met since the meeting in his office back in January. After all that had transpired I felt no animosity against Spicer. Here was a man who had served his country loyally. At one time he had been an aide to General Sir Peter Billière and was later British Army spokesman in Bosnia, for which he had been awarded the OBE. There was little significant difference in the accounts of the meetings we had had together. Both of us felt that we had been badly treated. His conscience was clear, and so was mine. Spicer would later record all these events in his book An Unorthodox Soldier and went on to establish Aegis Security, which was used extensively by the UK and US Governments in Iraq.

  After the break I took my seat in front of the committee. The Chairman started by asking me what I personally regretted about the whole affair. To their obvious surprise I told the committee that I personally had no regrets and that I had no doubt at all that everything I had done was legal and in fulfilment of British policy. I was then subjected to a barrage of questions mainly arising from the Legg Inquiry findings. There were several attempts by members of the committee, particularly the Tory members, to get me to criticize Robin Cook. Earlier on Sir John Stanley MP, a former Tory minister and one of the better informed members of the committee, had asked a question that inferred criticism of the Foreign Secretary to which I had refrained from answering. Sir John noted, ‘Diplomatic silence, fully understood,’ at which point Sir Peter Emery MP interjected, ‘Go on, criticize the Foreign Secretary.’ Whatever my personal feelings about the Foreign Secretary’s public remarks, I was not prepared to air them in public, particularly as part of a game to get at the government.