CORRIDORS OF POWER

The following is an extract from my manuscript, Corridors of Power, a factual reflection of my experiences whilst working for political figures. The manuscript is under consideration for publication. I just felt like sharing this extract.

My first intimate contact with Sir Ketumile Masire, the man who was to become President of Botswana for 19 years, was in 1980 when as Vice President he abruptly cut his trip to the people's Republic of China due to the terminal illness of his predecessor Sir Seretse Khama. I was a senior journalist then with the Government Department of Information and Broadcasting working for Radio Botswana and the Daily News. Sir Seretse Khama had just returned from London where he had gone for treatment but was returned by his doctors so that he "could die peacefully among his people." The charismatic founder President of the former British colony was dying of cancer.



I first interviewed Vice President Masire when he was known then by his unique but popular first name of Quett, before he changed his title to Sir Ketumile Masire later when he was bestowed the British Knighthood by Queen Elizabeth II. Quett, as he was popularly known then, was regarded nationally as the moneyman, being the Minister of Finance and Development Planning. The man's trademark was his high pitched laughter which echoed around the corridors of every building he occupied and announced him at every occasion. It was an idiosyncrasy that was to become part and parcel of his personality and eventually a cherished sound among his supporters and compatriots.


The intention of the interview was to get answers to the burning questions in the minds of every concerned citizen of Botswana-, which was virtually every one. Now that the nation of this fledgling democracy, was about to lose the only president that they had known, what was going to happen to the leadership of the country? Would Vice President Masire take over automatically? It was common knowledge then that the rather reticent Quett Masire had not shown any ambitions to ascend to the presidency of the country. Masire was believed to be reluctant to become captain of this peaceful but politically and economically fragile southern African state. We posed the questions to Quett Masire. As was always the case, we quickly realised that what Quett Masire lacked in physical stature, he made up for in his remarkable gift of repartee. Admittedly, at first contact before and during his presidency, and even afterwards, one did not have to be Quett Masire’s puppet to discern his obvious superior intellect. His mastery of both the English language and the national language, Setswana, made him a versatile orator and slippery maestro of intellectual gymnastics.


Quett Masire ensured that the bulk of the interview concentrated on his trip to China. The Chinese culture and their work ethic, in particular, had visibly impressed him. I was with colleagues Moreri Gabakgore and Monty Letshwiti when he told us:-






"If I had my way, I would take the entire nation of Botswana to China for them to see how hard working the Chinese are. They have ploughed every where, even on mountain tops."


But would he become President?


As I was to later realise, among Quett Masire’s best personal traits were loyalty to colleagues, friends, the common cause, staunch loyalty to the country, unshakeable belief in free exchange of views and sensitivity. In later years though, the sensitivity trait was to be eroded significantly, most probably due to the apparent invincibility of his political party at the polls and the resultant complaisance of the ruling party.


It was a well known fact that Quett Masire loved Sir Seretse Khama as a friend and colleague as much as he respected the man as president and leader of their political party. Although Quett Masire knew very well that Sir Seretse was dying, he felt it unpalatable to go public with that acceptance. He did not want to play God. Masire's sensitivity also allowed him to perceive how the conservative Botswana nation would regard his statements at the deathbed of their president. He would not speculate on the leadership of the country but he put it in such a way that the journalists who interviewed him left with a story about a hardworking China that could be a model for the nascent workforce of Botswana. As far as Quett was concerned, there was a president in Office. He might have been lying terminally ill at State House but the man was still in Office.


Would he Quett Masire take over as President in the event that Sir Seretse died? I have never forgotten the glint in Masire's eyes when I posed that question to him. Although I was shaken to the core, it was not a malevolent look and neither was it a look of anger. He had the look of a wounded lion. He obviously disapproved of what he probably regarded as my intransigence and lack of sensitivity. One of his other good traits, was the ability to restrain his anger in the presence of subordinates, or in his cultural perspective, children. I do not recall exactly what Quett Masire said but young and obstinate as we were then, we left his office feeling guilty that we had asked the questions that our journalistic training allowed us to ask. The second most powerful man in the land had not subjected us to official harassment and yet we felt remorseful. We went to our newsrooms and wrote the story about China.


A few days later, Sir Seretse Khama died peacefully at his official residence. We learnt that he had called his best friend and right hand man, Quett Masire, just before he died, and told him:-


"I have done my part. The rest is left to you."


It was not until years later after retirement as President that Quett Masire wrote in his book entitled: “VERY BRAVE OR VERY FOOLISH? Memoirs of an African Democrat.” :


“I was a reluctant politician. If I had my way, I would not have become a politician in the 1960s, but I felt I had to do it because there was a need. In 1980, if people had felt someone else should be president, I would have given him, or her, my full support…when I arrived at the airport in Gaborone , having been recalled from a visit to China, two officials told me that he [Sir Seretse Khama] was dying. They pleaded that if I was asked to succeed him, I shouldn’t say no. Many people, including members of the opposition parties, began coming to me to urge me to accept the role if I were asked.”


I have been to the State House on several occasions during the tenure of the presidency of Sir Ketumile Masire, and even during the service of his successors. It had emblazoned itself in my mind as a tribute to the democratic sanity of Botswana that successors to Sir Seretse Khama, though belonging to the generation of ardent traditionalists, showed no effort to obliterate the symbolic presence of the former tenant. I had noticed that pictures of Sir Seretse Khama still graced the walls of State House, together with those of the incumbent president. When I saw these retained symbols of continuum, I postulated that Africans were generally superstitious and would had hence tended to nurture deeply morbid fears of death, particularly in residences of power and esteem where former beneficiaries would have ailed and died. Discarding these unrealistic fears, and portrayal of the vivid examples of untainted regard for official residence as a place of service devoid of personal patronage symbolized to me true attributes of political maturity. In this connection, Quett Masire singled himself out for this political maturity award as the first succeeding tenant of a deceased predecessor. Coupled with the fact that Sir Ketumile had been close, life-long friends with Sir Seretse Khama, President Masire appeared to me to have set an excellent tone for future tenancy of the State House and assumption of powers of state.


That was, however, until I read In his memoirs Sir Ketumile expresses sentiments that undermine my sentiments about retaining footprints of the late Sir Seretse Khama. Quett Masire depicts himself as a victim of a slow and cumbersome bureaucracy that made him tolerate pictures of his late friend and predecessor, even though he would have preferred otherwise. Sir Ketumile writes:


“As president, Seretse Khama’s picture had hung on the wall in every government office and most business establishments. Civil servants took it as given that after I became president, my picture should be on the wall.


But in the workings of government bureaucracy, it took many months before Seretse’s picture was taken down and exchanged for mine. When the pictures were exchanged, some people, especially some Bangwato, were resentful.”


My observations were correct, however, about Sir Ketumile’s reluctant to comment in detail to us during the interview we had with him when he returned from China. To us, the journalists, it appeared straight forward that the Vice President would assume the presidency upon the demise of the incumbent. We assumed the government recognized the fact and presumed the public felt the same way. Apart from the man’s renowned reticence, why was he reluctant to answer our questions on the succession plan? It took 26 years for Sir Ketumile to answer the question. He writes about his feelings when Sir Seretse Khama died and he had to adorn the cloak of state:


“The transition after Seretse’s death was very difficult for me for many reasons. First, I had lost a very close friend and a colleague whom I greatly admired. Second, there was the grief we all felt on losing the man who was the father of the nation. Then there was a feeling among the public that government was in too great a hurry to select a new president. Further, both the natural grief that everyone felt, and the public’s concern that we were acting too hastily in choosing a successor, were focussed on government; and it was especially directed to me as the interim leader of the government. It was a very trying time.”