The British Government and the British people do not desire any direct
authority in South Africa. Their one supreme interest is that the
various States there should live in concord and prosperity, and that
there should be no need for the presence of a British redcoat within the
whole great peninsula. Our foreign critics, with their misapprehension
of the British colonial system, can never realise that whether
the four-coloured flag of the Transvaal or the Union Jack of a
self-governing colony waved over the gold mines would not make the
difference of one shilling to the revenue of Great Britain. The
Transvaal as a British province would have its own legislature, its
own revenue, its own expenditure, and its own tariff against the mother
country, as well as against the rest of the world, and England be none
the richer for the change. This is so obvious to a Briton that he has
ceased to insist upon it, and it is for that reason perhaps that it is
so universally misunderstood abroad. On the other hand, while she is no
gainer by the change, most of the expense of it in blood and in money
falls upon the home country. On the face of it, therefore, Great Britain
had every reason to avoid so formidable a task as the conquest of the
South African Republic. At the best she had nothing to gain, and at the
worst she had an immense deal to lose. There was no room for ambition or
aggression. It was a case of shirking or fulfilling a most arduous duty.
There could be no question of a plot for the annexation of the
Transvaal. In a free country the Government cannot move in advance of
public opinion, and public opinion is influenced by and reflected in the
newspapers. One may examine the files of the press during all the months
of negotiations and never find one reputable opinion in favour of such a
course, nor did one in society ever meet an advocate of such a measure.
But a great wrong was being done, and all that was asked was the minimum
change which would set it right, and restore equality between the white
races in Africa. 'Let Kruger only be liberal in the extension of the
franchise,' said the paper which is most representative of the sanest
British opinion, 'and he will find that the power of the republic will
become not weaker, but infinitely more secure. Let him once give the
majority of the resident males of full age the full vote, and he will
have given the republic a stability and power which nothing else can. If
he rejects all pleas of this kind, and persists in his present policy,
he may possibly stave off the evil day, and preserve his cherished
oligarchy for another few years; but the end will be the same.'
The extract reflects the tone of all of the British press, with the
exception of one or two papers which considered that even the
persistent ill usage of our people, and the fact that we were peculiarly
responsible for them in this State, did not justify us in interfering
in the internal affairs of the republic. It cannot be denied that
the Jameson raid and the incomplete manner in which the circumstances
connected with it had been investigated had weakened the force of those
who wished to interfere energetically on behalf of British subjects.
There was a vague but widespread feeling that perhaps the capitalists
were engineering the situation for their own ends. It is difficult to
imagine how a state of unrest and insecurity, to say nothing of a
state of war, can ever be to the advantage of capital, and surely it
is obvious that if some arch-schemer were using the grievances of the
Uitlanders for his own ends the best way to checkmate him would be to
remove those grievances. The suspicion, however, did exist among those
who like to ignore the obvious and magnify the remote, and throughout
the negotiations the hand of Great Britain was weakened, as her
adversary had doubtless calculated that it would be, by an earnest
but fussy and faddy minority. Idealism and a morbid, restless
conscientiousness are two of the most dangerous evils from which a
modern progressive State has to suffer.
It was in April 1899 that the British Uitlanders sent their petition
praying for protection to their native country. Since the April previous
a correspondence had been going on between Dr. Leyds, Secretary of State
for the South African Republic, and Mr. Chamberlain, Colonial Secretary,
upon the existence or non-existence of the suzerainty. On the one
hand, it was contended that the substitution of a second convention
had entirely annulled the first; on the other, that the preamble of
the first applied also to the second. If the Transvaal contention were
correct it is clear that Great Britain had been tricked and jockeyed
into such a position, since she had received no quid pro quo in the
second convention, and even the most careless of Colonial Secretaries
could hardly have been expected to give away a very substantial
something for nothing. But the contention throws us back upon the
academic question of what a suzerainty is. The Transvaal admitted a
power of veto over their foreign policy, and this admission in itself,
unless they openly tore up the convention, must deprive them of the
position of a sovereign State. On the whole, the question must be
acknowledged to have been one which might very well have been referred
to trustworthy arbitration.
But now to this debate, which had so little of urgency in it that seven
months intervened between statement and reply, there came the bitterly
vital question of the wrongs and appeal of the Uitlanders. Sir Alfred
Milner, the British Commissioner in South Africa, a man of liberal
views who had been appointed by a Conservative Government, commanded the
respect and confidence of all parties. His record was that of an
able, clear-headed man, too just to be either guilty of or tolerant of
injustice. To him the matter was referred, and a conference was arranged
between President Kruger and him at Bloemfontein, the capital of the
Orange Free State. They met on May 30th. Kruger had declared that all
questions might be discussed except the independence of the Transvaal.
'All, all, all!' he cried emphatically. But in practice it was found
that the parties could not agree as to what did or what did not threaten
this independence. What was essential to one was inadmissible to the
other. Milner contended for a five years' retroactive franchise, with
provisions to secure adequate representation for the mining districts.
Kruger offered a seven years' franchise, coupled with numerous
conditions which whittled down its value very much, promised five
members out of thirty-one to represent a majority of the male
population, and added a provision that all differences should be subject
to arbitration by foreign powers, a condition which is incompatible with
any claim to suzerainty. The proposals of each were impossible to the
other, and early in June Sir Alfred Milner was back in Cape Town and
President Kruger in Pretoria, with nothing settled except the extreme
difficulty of a settlement. The current was running swift, and the roar
of the fall was already sounding louder in the ear.
On June 12th Sir Alfred Milner received a deputation at Cape Town and
reviewed the situation. 'The principle of equality of races was,' he
said, essential for South Africa. The one State where inequality existed
kept all the others in a fever. Our policy was one not of aggression,
but of singular patience, which could not, however, lapse into
indifference.' Two days later Kruger addressed the Raad. 'The other side
had not conceded one tittle, and I could not give more. God has always
stood by us. I do not want war, but I will not give more away. Although
our independence has once been taken away, God has restored it.' He
spoke with sincerity no doubt, but it is hard to hear God invoked with
such confidence for the system which encouraged the liquor traffic to
the natives, and bred the most corrupt set of officials that the modern
world has seen.
A dispatch from Sir Alfred Milner, giving his views upon the situation,
made the British public recognise, as nothing else had done, how serious
the position was, and how essential it was that an earnest national
effort should be made to set it right. In it he said:
'The case for intervention is overwhelming. The only attempted answer
is that things will right themselves if left alone. But, in fact, the
policy of leaving things alone has been tried for years, and it has led
to their going from bad to worse. It is not true that this is owing to
the raid. They were going from bad to worse before the raid. We were on
the verge of war before the raid, and the Transvaal was on the verge
of revolution. The effect of the raid has been to give the policy of
leaving things alone a new lease of life, and with the old consequences.
'The spectacle of thousands of British subjects kept permanently in the
position of helots, constantly chafing under undoubted grievances, and
calling vainly to her Majesty's Government for redress, does steadily
undermine the influence and reputation of Great Britain within the
Queen's dominions. A section of the press, not in the Transvaal only,
preaches openly and constantly the doctrine of a republic embracing all
South Africa, and supports it by menacing references to the armaments of
the Transvaal, its alliance with the Orange Free State, and the active
sympathy which, in case of war, it would receive from a section of her
Majesty's subjects. I regret to say that this doctrine, supported as it
is by a ceaseless stream of malignant lies about the intentions of her
Majesty's Government, is producing a great effect on a large number of
our Dutch fellow colonists. Language is frequently used which seems to
imply that the Dutch have some superior right, even in this colony,
to their fellow-citizens of British birth. Thousands of men peaceably
disposed, and if left alone perfectly satisfied with their position
as British subjects, are being drawn into disaffection, and there is a
corresponding exasperation upon the part of the British.
'I can see nothing which will put a stop to this mischievous propaganda
but some striking proof of the intention of her Majesty's Government not
to be ousted from its position in South Africa.'
Such were the grave and measured words with which the British pro-consul
warned his countrymen of what was to come. He saw the storm-cloud piling
in the north, but even his eyes had not yet discerned how near and how
terrible was the tempest.
Throughout the end of June and the early part of July much was hoped
from the mediation of the heads of the Afrikander Bond, the political
union of the Dutch Cape colonists. On the one hand, they were the
kinsmen of the Boers; on the other, they were British subjects, and
were enjoying the blessings of those liberal institutions which we were
anxious to see extended to the Transvaal. 'Only treat our folk as we
treat yours! Our whole contention was compressed into that prayer. But
nothing came of the mission, though a scheme endorsed by Mr. Hofmeyer
and Mr. Herholdt, of the Bond, with Mr. Fischer of the Free State, was
introduced into the Raad and applauded by Mr. Schreiner, the Africander
Premier of Cape Colony. In its original form the provisions were obscure
and complicated, the franchise varying from nine years to seven under
different conditions. In debate, however, the terms were amended until
the time was reduced to seven years, and the proposed representation of
the gold fields placed at five. The concession was not a great one,
nor could the representation, five out of thirty-one, be considered a
generous provision for the majority of the population; but the reduction
of the years of residence was eagerly hailed in England as a sign that a
compromise might be effected. A sigh of relief went up from the country.
'If,' said the Colonial Secretary, 'this report is confirmed, this
important change in the proposals of President Kruger, coupled with
previous amendments, leads Government to hope that the new law may prove
to be the basis of a settlement on the lines laid down by Sir Alfred
Milner in the Bloemfontein Conference.' He added that there were some
vexatious conditions attached, but concluded, 'Her Majesty's Government
feel assured that the President, having accepted the principle for which
they have contended, will be prepared to reconsider any detail of
his scheme which can be shown to be a possible hindrance to the full
accomplishment of the object in view, and that he will not allow them
to be nullified or reduced in value by any subsequent alterations of the
law or acts of administration.' At the same time, the 'Times' declared
the crisis to be at an end. 'If the Dutch statesmen of the Cape have
induced their brethren in the Transvaal to carry such a Bill, they will
have deserved the lasting gratitude, not only of their own countrymen
and of the English colonists in South Africa, but of the British Empire
and of the civilised world.'
But this fair prospect was soon destined to be overcast. Questions of
detail arose which, when closely examined, proved to be matters of very
essential importance. The Uitlanders and British South Africans, who had
experienced in the past how illusory the promises of the President might
be, insisted upon guarantees. The seven years offered were two years
more than that which Sir Alfred Milner had declared to be an irreducible
minimum. The difference of two years would not have hindered
their acceptance, even at the expense of some humiliation to our
representative. But there were conditions which excited distrust when
drawn up by so wily a diplomatist. One was that the alien who aspired to
burghership had to produce a certificate of continuous registration for
a certain time. But the law of registration had fallen into disuse in
the Transvaal, and consequently this provision might render the whole
Bill valueless. Since it was carefully retained, it was certainly meant
for use. The door had been opened, but a stone was placed to block it.
Again, the continued burghership of the newcomers was made to depend
upon the resolution of the first Raad, so that should the mining members
propose any measure of reform, not only their Bill but they also might
be swept out of the house by a Boer majority. What could an Opposition
do if a vote of the Government might at any moment unseat them all? It
was clear that a measure which contained such provisions must be very
carefully sifted before a British Government could accept it as a final
settlement and a complete concession of justice to its subjects. On the
other hand, it naturally felt loth to refuse those clauses which offered
some prospect of an amelioration in their condition. It took the course,
therefore, of suggesting that each Government should appoint delegates
to form a joint commission which should inquire into the working of
the proposed Bill before it was put into a final form. The proposal was
submitted to the Raad upon August 7th, with the addition that when
this was done Sir Alfred Milner was prepared to discuss anything else,
including arbitration without the interference of foreign powers.
The suggestion of this joint commission has been criticised as an
unwarrantable intrusion into the internal affairs of another country.
But then the whole question from the beginning was about the internal
affairs of another country, since the internal equality of the white
inhabitants was the condition upon which self-government was restored
to the Transvaal. It is futile to suggest analogies, and to imagine what
France would do if Germany were to interfere in a question of French
franchise. Supposing that France contained as many Germans as Frenchmen,
and that they were ill-treated, Germany would interfere quickly enough
and continue to do so until some fair modus vivendi was established.
The fact is that the case of the Transvaal stands alone, that such a
condition of things has never been known, and that no previous precedent
can apply to it, save the general rule that a minority of white men
cannot continue indefinitely to tax and govern a majority. Sentiment
inclines to the smaller nation, but reason and justice are all on the
side of England.
A long delay followed upon the proposal of the Secretary of the
Colonies. No reply was forthcoming from Pretoria. But on all sides there
came evidence that those preparations for war which had been quietly
going on even before the Jameson raid were now being hurriedly
perfected. For so small a State enormous sums were being spent upon
military equipment. Cases of rifles and boxes of cartridges streamed
into the arsenal, not only from Delagoa Bay, but even, to the
indignation of the English colonists, through Cape Town and Port
Elizabeth. Huge packing-cases, marked 'Agricultural Instruments' and
'Mining Machinery,' arrived from Germany and France, to find their
places in the forts of Johannesburg or Pretoria. Men of many nations
but of a similar type showed their martial faces in the Boer towns.
The condottieri of Europe were as ready as ever to sell their blood for
gold, and nobly in the end did they fulfill their share of the bargain.
For three weeks and more during which Mr. Kruger was silent these
eloquent preparations went on. But beyond them, and of infinitely more
importance, there was one fact which dominated the situation. A burgher
cannot go to war without his horse, his horse cannot move without grass,
grass will not come until after rain, and it was still some weeks before
the rain would be due. Negotiations, then, must not be unduly hurried
while the veld was a bare russet-coloured dust-swept plain. Mr.
Chamberlain and the British public waited week after week for their
answer. But there was a limit to their patience, and it was reached on
August 26th, when the Colonial Secretary showed, with a plainness of
speech which is as unusual as it is welcome in diplomacy, that the
question could not be hung up for ever. 'The sands are running down
in the glass,' said he. 'If they run out, we shall not hold ourselves
limited by that which we have already offered, but, having taken the
matter in hand, we will not let it go until we have secured conditions
which once for all shall establish which is the paramount power in
South Africa, and shall secure for our fellow-subjects there those equal
rights and equal privileges which were promised them by President Kruger
when the independence of the Transvaal was granted by the Queen, and
which is the least that in justice ought to be accorded them.' Lord
Salisbury, a little time before, had been equally emphatic. 'No one
in this country wishes to disturb the conventions so long as it is
recognised that while they guarantee the independence of the Transvaal
on the one side, they guarantee equal political and civil rights for
settlers of all nationalities upon the other. But these conventions are
not like the laws of the Medes and the Persians. They are mortal, they
can be destroyed...and once destroyed they can never be reconstructed
in the same shape.' The long-enduring patience of Great Britain was
beginning to show signs of giving way.
In the meantime a fresh dispatch had arrived from the Transvaal which
offered as an alternative proposal to the joint commission that the Boer
Government should grant the franchise proposals of Sir Alfred Milner
on condition that Great Britain withdrew or dropped her claim to a
suzerainty, agreed to arbitration, and promised never again to interfere
in the internal affairs of the republic. To this Great Britain answered
that she would agree to arbitration, that she hoped never again to have
occasion to interfere for the protection of her own subjects, but that
with the grant of the franchise all occasion for such interference would
pass away, and, finally, that she would never consent to abandon
her position as suzerain power. Mr. Chamberlain's dispatch ended by
reminding the Government of the Transvaal that there were other matters
of dispute open between the two Governments apart from the franchise,
and that it would be as well to have them settled at the same time. By
these he meant such questions as the position of the native races and
the treatment of Anglo-Indians.
On September 2nd the answer of the Transvaal Government was returned.
It was short and uncompromising. They withdrew their offer of the
franchise. They re-asserted the non-existence of the suzerainty. The
negotiations were at a deadlock. It was difficult to see how they could
be re-opened. In view of the arming of the burghers, the small garrison
of Natal had been taking up positions to cover the frontier. The
Transvaal asked for an explanation of their presence. Sir Alfred Milner
answered that they were guarding British interests, and preparing
against contingencies. The roar of the fall was sounding loud and near.
On September 8th there was held a Cabinet Council--one of the most
important in recent years. A message was sent to Pretoria, which even
the opponents of the Government have acknowledged to be temperate, and
offering the basis for a peaceful settlement. It begins by repudiating
emphatically the claim of the Transvaal to be a sovereign international
State in the same sense in which the Orange Free State is one. Any
proposal made conditional upon such an acknowledgment could not be
entertained.
The British Government, however, was prepared to accept the five years'
'franchise' as stated in the note of August 19th, assuming at the same
time that in the Raad each member might talk his own language.
'Acceptance of these terms by the South African Republic would at once
remove tension between the two Governments, and would in all probability
render unnecessary any future intervention to secure redress for
grievances which the Uitlanders themselves would be able to bring to the
notice of the Executive Council and the Volksraad.
'Her Majesty's Government are increasingly impressed with the danger of
further delay in relieving the strain which has already caused so much
injury to the interests of South Africa, and they earnestly press for an
immediate and definite reply to the present proposal. If it is acceded
to they will be ready to make immediate arrangements...to settle all
details of the proposed tribunal of arbitration...If, however, as they
most anxiously hope will not be the case, the reply of the South African
Republic should be negative or inconclusive, I am to state that her
Majesty's Government must reserve to themselves the right to reconsider
the situation de novo, and to formulate their own proposals for a final
settlement.'
Such was the message, and Great Britain waited with strained attention
for the answer. But again there was a delay, while the rain came and the
grass grew, and the veld was as a mounted rifleman would have it. The
burghers were in no humour for concessions. They knew their own power,
and they concluded with justice that they were for the time far the
strongest military power in South Africa. 'We have beaten England
before, but it is nothing to the licking we shall give her now,' cried
a prominent citizen, and he spoke for his country as he said it. So
the empire waited and debated, but the sounds of the bugle were already
breaking through the wrangles of the politicians, and calling the nation
to be tested once more by that hammer of war and adversity by which
Providence still fashions us to some nobler and higher end.