The Groot Krokodil bites back
IT was a sorely wounded bull that left the extraordinary cabinet meeting at Tuynhuys on that Monday morning, 14 August 1989, and turned his back on his ministers forever; the ministers he had hand-picked and surrounded himself with over the years. For PW Botha, it was a bitter pill to have been ousted by his own people.
The fact that his state of health had been a major factor in this orchestrated cabinet decision made no difference to him. For the rest of his life, the Groot Krokodil would believe he had been betrayed by his own people and that he had been deposed by Pik and his cronies in order to make way for FW. FW, of all people! Almost certainly influenced by his older brother Wimpie, the arch-verkrampte minister of education must have undergone a startling transformation indeed on the road to Damascus in order to become such a radical verligte.
That night, when he announced his retirement on television, most of PW Botha’s ministers were left in no doubt that he was not going to roll over and play dead, and they knew that his decision to withdraw to the Wilderness would not be the last they heard of him. There was a tacit understanding that, like Arnold Schwarzenegger in his action movies, PW would make good on the promise/threat: ‘Ah’ll be back!’ For at least some of his former and most trusted colleagues like Kobie Coetsee, Magnus Malan and Adriaan Vlok, there would be sleepless nights ahead, knowing he would retaliate.
As it happened, South Africa’s spy-in-chief Niel Barnard was the first to suffer the full wrath of the voice in the Wilderness. Barnard – generally known as ‘Doctor’ to his underlings at the erstwhile National Intelligence service – had been ‘discovered’ at the Free State University in Bloemfontein when PW was building his empire.
In May 1980 he was an unknown, nebulous academic, still wet behind the ears and barely thirty-one years old. When PW announced that Dr Niel Barnard was going to be South Africa’s chief spook in charge of rebuilding NI, the media had a field day, openly questioning his ability to fill such a vital post. As the years passed, however, Doctor succeeded admirably in maintaining a low profile and doing things the way PW wanted – including the planting of enough bugs in PW’s offices at parliament and the Union Buildings to capture any conversation, even with leaders of the opposition, on tape.
Barnard played his cards well, having realised that if he toed the line, a political career might await him, one day, in a new South Africa.
With PW’s blessing, he and Kobie Coetsee, minister of justice, met Nelson Mandela in prison and opened dialogue with him, discreetly and in the utmost secrecy.
Notwithstanding the securocrats in the defence force and the police, Niel also made contact with ANC leaders from the early 1980s and began laying the ground for possible peace negotiations. Unlike his counterparts at MI and the security police, Barnard played a dual role in this regard.
He decided as early as 1982 that he and his agency wanted no further part in the harrowing propaganda war being waged abroad and that a ‘negotiated settlement’ was the answer. He set about influencing first the Broederbond and then the politicians. In 1986, when the majority of National Party voters remained convinced that they were supporting a relentless struggle against the communists, the first secret meetings took place between Barnard and the ANC, as well as between the Broederbond and the ANC.
Not even FW knew it at the time. He found out in 1989, when he became state president, and was reportedly furious. ‘Just tell me, next time,’ he apparently ordered.
According to one of the intelligence reports that formed part of Operation Deep Search, the investigation into Olof Palme’s assassination, Pik Botha and Niel Barnard began cultivating the ANC in secret in the early 1980s.
‘Individuals who were close to him during that period believe it was obvious that he wanted to build up a position of trust between himself and the ANC, so that he would be in the strongest possible position when FW de Klerk replaced PW as state president. It was a strategic move also adopted by various senior ministers as they became more and more disillusioned with PW’s political stance,’ says the report.
Operation Deep Search’s investigators found that Barnard had realised the extent of Palme’s influence on the ANC, and regarded this as a personal threat. They claimed that Barnard saw himself as the man who would bring the ANC to the negotiating table.
‘He was convinced that by achieving this he would be assured a position in the new government, and for this reason he believed it would be to his advantage to support the view that Palme was a threat to the South African state.’
The prelude to the day on which PW effectively forced Niel to his knees at his retirement home, Die Anker, at the Wilderness, dated back to 1985, when Winnie Mandela found herself on the same flight to Cape Town as Kobie Coetsee.
Renowned South African journalist and former editor of the Rand Daily Mail, Allister Sparks, wrote in his book Tomorrow Is Another Country that the saga of the secret talks began by chance, when Winnie was on the way to her husband’s bedside while he was recovering from prostate surgery.
The indomitable ‘mother of the nation’ walked brazenly to the aircraft’s first-class cabin in flight, sat down next to Kobie and opened a conversation. He was captivated, and the very next day, without any advance notice, he went to visit the world’s most famous political prisoner.
Sparks wrote that Mandela, clad only in a hospital gown, received Kobie more as a colleague than as the man responsible for making sure he remained behind bars. Following their impromptu introduction, Mandela inundated Kobie with letters proposing further meetings.
A secret committee was set up, consisting of Mandela, Kobie and Niel Barnard. Eventually, Mandela insisted on a meeting with PW. An unofficial ‘courtesy visit’ was finally arranged for 5 July 1989 – little more than a month before PW was kicked out.
Barnard, the intelligence chief, was so excited about the meeting that mere seconds before the two men shook hands, he was down on his knees tying Mandela’s shoelaces, Sparks said of this historic meeting.
As a matter of routine, the spies of NI and MI secretly taped all meetings and discussions with the state president that took place in PW’s offices. The seminal conversation between PW and the world’s most revered prisoner was also taped, as a matter of course. It was a conversation that should have been preserved like gold as part of South Africa’s history, and PW was firmly convinced that the man in charge of his country’s intelligence would ensure that this happened. He certainly hoped so.
But something went terribly wrong. PW was comfortably installed at Die Anker, planning to write his memoirs. He had already decided to donate all documents and correspondence pertaining to his career in politics to the Institute for Contemporary History (INCH) in Bloemfontein.
One of the most valuable political legacies that PW wanted to include in this collection was the Mandela tapes. They were truly a historic collector’s item, and a must for his donation to INCH. Along with other classified documents, the tapes had been handed to NI by Commander Ters Ehlers, PW’s private secretary, when he stepped down as state president.
What took place that day between PW and Mandela was truly momentous and, in reality, laid the foundation for the release of Walter Sisulu. It was a giant step in the direction of everything the De Klerk regime would achieve in effecting a political revolution in South Africa.
No wonder PW attached so much value to the Mandela tapes. He believed they were his property. He felt it was his right to acquire them, and said as much to Niel Barnard on one occasion, when he tried in vain to get his hands on them. It infuriated him that someone like Barnard, who owed his elevation to the highest intelligence post in South Africa to the former state president, should give him the cold shoulder now that he was no longer in power.
In October 1991, more than two years after their brutal confrontation at PW’s final cabinet meeting, FW was drawn into the tape furore when PW contacted him and demanded that something be done in order for him to gain access to the tapes. On 23 October, FW wrote to PW that he had instructed Barnard to sort the matter out.
PW knew what to expect, since on 19 February the year before, Barnard had sent him his ‘personal minutes’ of the conversation with Mandela. That was not what he wanted. PW would be satisfied only with the original tapes or a transcript of the actual conversation.
‘According to National Intelligence’s press statement of 18 November 1991,’ PW told me as the row raged on, ‘the tapes were handed to the head of NI by staff in the state president’s office on 15 August 1989. Following my retirement, I made numerous telephonic attempts to obtain either the tape or a transcript, but it was not until 19 February 1990 that Dr Barnard responded in writing.’
In his letter, Barnard had the temerity to warn PW that his account of the conversation with Mandela would be classified as top secret in terms of the Protection of Information Act (No. 84 of 1982). Barnard went so far as to classify even his letter as top secret, and this was clearly indicated on each page. ‘I wish to courteously draw your attention to the fact that the content of these minutes is subject to the legal determinations of the Act,’ Barnard warned his former state president, attaching his version of the historic talks between PW and Mandela.
Discussion Tuynhuis: 5 July 1989: SP (PW Botha), M (Nelson Mandela) SP welcomed M. General conversation about one another’s health and circumstances such as Kaizer Matanzima, childhood years, Anglo-Boer War, role of Pres Steyn. Followed by general discussion about African leaders such as Houphouët-Boigny, Chissano, Mobutu, Savimbi, situation in Angola, Mozambique and South West Africa and the SP states that Angola is the key to resolution of Southern Africa’s problems and that a peaceful solution in Angola would be to the benefit of Zambia and Zaire. Both agree on the importance of opening the Benguela railway line and that Pres Kaunda might hold the same opinion.
M expresses the hope that relations between the SP and Kaunda will improve. Discuss contradictions in politics and M mentions that he has told the minister [presumably Kobie Coetsee] that he would like to see a National Party victory in the forthcoming election, despite the fact that he rejects everything for which the National Party stands. This could lead to problems for him.
SP observes that problems are there to be solved; life is fraught with problems. M concurs and comments that however large problems become, there is always hope that they can be solved. SP says things could be so much better in Africa. He has formed this idea since visiting African states and talking to the leaders. Pres Banda is an old and good friend and they spent hours together. Pres Banda agrees that Africa could open the doors to better circumstances for many people. What Africa needs is peaceful development, education, training, job creation and exploitation of its riches to the benefit of all.
SP says he has emphasised to Kaunda the necessity for Africa to come to terms with the Afrikaner since this would be to the advantage of Southern Africa as a whole. He says there is too much outside meddling in South Africa’s domestic affairs. This will have to be resolved.
M says he fully appreciates this and has come to know the Afrikaner better in prison. Furthermore, he has been privileged to exchange views in prison with Minister Coetsee. He emphasises that current developments are conducive to negotiation. According to M, the right climate will only be created if the government gives attention to the ANC’s demands, such as legalising the ANC and lifting the state of emergency. However, he does not want to abuse this opportunity by holding such a serious discussion.
From its side, the government needs to take certain steps to normalise the situation. In return, the ANC could relinquish violence and take other steps, without either the government or the ANC losing face.
SP says this is merely an informal conversation and an opportunity to exchange ideas. On the subject of South West Africa, SP says he has done much to promote the peace process in SWA. In the RSA, violence will only lead to more violence and destruction. Since assuming office (1978) he has gone out of his way to oppose violence. His ideal was to labour instead for extensive upliftment and development of the RSA’s people.
SP is of the opinion that the violence must end and the opportunity for dialogue can contribute to realisation of this ideal. Instead of using violence, people should rather solve their problems around the negotiating table. SP believes M is in a position to contribute to a peaceful solution. But, he says, M should not lose sight of the role that the Afrikaner can play in this respect. The Afrikaner loves this country and has nowhere else to go. The Afrikaner is ready to talk and to make a positive contribution.
On his travels through Africa, the SP has seen how underdeveloped Africa is and believes that the RSA can make a major contribution to solving Africa’s problems. M offers the assurance that the ANC leadership does not disagree with the government and that no party in or out of parliament has a better track record than the ANC when it comes to commitment to peace.
SP warns that the ANC should not make the mistake of listening to everyone who claims to be speaking on behalf of South Africa and its people. The ANC should re-evaluate its position. SP praises M for not wanting to talk to everyone who asks to see him, purely for publicity value.
M brings up Sisulu’s position and expresses the hope that Sisulu will be released, as this would make M’s task a great deal easier. Should Sisulu be released and abuse his freedom, SP would have every right to question M’s word, but the reverse would also hold true.
SP says it has already been decided that Sisulu will be released, and it will be expected of him not to launch a new propaganda campaign, since M’s honour hangs in the balance. M says he has already talked to Sisulu, and that he should be released as soon as possible – even before his wife comes home. SP invites M to stay in touch. They thank one another and wish each other good health.
Minister Coetsee addresses how best the conversation will be announced to the press so that both M and the SP are protected. It will simply be described as an informal visit. M agrees. Everyone leaves. Three days later, this historic meeting made headlines and the international media went to town. No one could wait to see those first photographs of Mandela. In South Africa, it must have been sobering for many to see that Mandela – the terrorist leader – was, in fact, a tall, stately old man with a benign and gentle face. The world, and especially the punch-drunk South African population, dared to hope that this signalled the start of plans to unban the ANC and introduce political reform in the country.
It was the first genuine sign of reconciliation, of reaching out to the ANC in the dark and bloody days of the state of emergency that had been in force since PW’s bitterly disappointing Rubicon speech on 15 August 1985. The world had held its breath then, too.
Expectations that he would announce far-reaching steps by the government to bring peace to the country had been dashed when he did the opposite, ushering in a rigid and ruthless campaign against the ANC. The gold price plummeted and South Africa’s international standing took yet another tumble. The table was laid for sanctions and boycotts.
Many insiders claimed afterwards that PW’s original plan for the Rubicon speech had been abandoned in a fit of pique after Pik’s public prediction that South Africa would yet have a black president.
PW’s decision to involve FW in his battle with Barnard quickly bore fruit. When the boss said jump, Barnard asked how high, and so he finally took the road to the southern Cape to click his heels before PW once more and try to explain his actions.
Barnard knew he was in for a tough time. He’d known PW long enough and had been close enough to the Groot Krokodil, to say nothing of having shared with him extremely intimate secrets about so many people, to have any illusions that a warm welcome awaited him at Die Anker.
After all, as South Africa’s Number One spy, Barnard had been one of the people who, with the help of his spooks, had bugged so many conversations that he was arguably the man who knew the most about things that many, many people considered secret. He had used his knowledge over the years with great circumspection and responsibility, and even in later years, when Mandela approached him for the identities of government spies in ANC ranks – the so-called impimpis – he refused to divulge their names.
It was a magnificent day at the Wilderness when Barnard stopped his car on the pavement overlooking the lake in front of Die Anker. There’s no way of knowing if he drank in the natural beauty and the splendid view across the water as he climbed out of his car, but he was certainly thinking about the important matter at hand. He knew that when PW was angry, he was dangerous, tolerating no contradiction and quickly making mincemeat of his opponent. It was not for nothing that his nickname was the Groot Krokodil.
Tannie Elize was present when he entered the residence accompanied by a bodyguard, and PW strode towards him to shake hands. Elize was renowned for her hospitality, and those who never had the chance to enjoy her homemade biscuits with tea have no idea how delicious they were. She might not have shown great fashion sense on official occasions, but she was a warm and friendly woman who glowed with genuine affection.
The polite formalities disposed of and the tea poured, PW leant forward and placed a tape recorder on the table between him and Barnard, duly informing his guest that their conversation would be taped. PW told me afterwards that he automatically assumed that Barnard, the trained spy, had also recorded their words.
‘He had one of those chunky, suspicious-looking pens in his pocket, you know, a specially designed one with a built-in miniature tape recorder,’ he told me in his study. And after all, PW ought to have known about such things, since it was he who had made Barnard a spy.
The transcript of their conversation, given to me exclusively a week later, painted a vivid picture of PW on the warpath while Barnard sweated blood. In the interest of our history, the full text (albeit in translation) appears below. PW is, of course, the former state president, EB is Elize Botha, and NB is Dr Niel Barnard.
PW: Welcome, once again. I have but one desire and that is to get hold of the tape recording or a proper copy of the conversation between me and Mr Mandela, which you were present at. My life is being documented according to material that is with INCH, and with which you are familiar, and it is essential that our conversation that day be included.
You have provided me with a summary of minutes that you say you wrote, I have the letter here, I can show it to you. But I have not been able to obtain a proper transcript of the tape recording. Your department has consistently refused to give it to me. Now what I would like to know is, why?
NB: Thank you, sir, and thank you for letting me be here with you and your wife.
Since you first called me in connection with the tape, sir, I have tried to explain the situation to you, but you would not give me the opportunity, so I am grateful that you agreed to see me this morning. The tape was handed to me by Geraldine Mostert, and when you contacted me it no longer existed, and I would like you to accept that, sir.
I issued instructions for the tape to be destroyed because, in my judgment, the mere fact that such a tape existed had a definite effect and would have a definite effect on the political negotiations.
PW: Just a moment, I must interrupt you. You admit that you received the tape?
NB: I received the tape, sir.
PW: Good. Now let’s go further, Dr Barnard. Did you make a copy of what was on that tape?
NB: No, sir, we did not make a copy of what was said on the tape. We did not transcribe the tape, as one might say.
PW: But what right did you have to destroy an item that belonged to me? You admit that you destroyed the tape. You made no copy of an extremely vital conversation that I had with Mandela?
NB: I did not have the tape transcribed.
PW: You did not have a transcript made. In other words, you were negligent in your duty towards me. I want you to admit or deny that, so that it is captured on tape.
NB: Sir, if I might just explain. I don’t want to argue with you about this.
PW: We are dealing with facts, now. Tell me. The tape was handed to you by my office?
NB: That is correct, sir.
PW: The tape was handed to you by my office and you are aware that such a recording was made?
NB: Yes, sir.
PW: You were aware of it. Good. You took receipt of that tape. You did not, as a responsible official who worked with me in confidence for years, you did not go so far as to transcribe the contents of the tape.
NB: No, sir, we did not transcribe it.
PW: Good. Now I also want to know from you, was it not routine for you to have such important matters transcribed?
NB: Sir, we did not transcribe every conversation. But this was an important conversation and it might have been the wrong approach …
PW: It was THE important conversation. For the first time in all the years that Mandela was in jail, this was the crucial aspect. Isn’t that so?
NB: It was an extremely important conversation, sir.
PW: And you failed to preserve the tape. You destroyed it without informing me. Is that correct?
NB: That is correct, sir.
PW: You also neglected to have it transcribed, again without informing me. Is that correct?
NB: That is correct.
PW: In other words, you ignored me, even though it was my tape, and my document, you were derelict in your duty.
NB: I did not tell you.
PW: Very well. You did not tell me. And then you went and compiled a quick account of what happened there, from your memory.
NB: No, sir, may I just say …
PW: Yes, yes. Speak up, because there is a tape here.
NB: All right, sir. I did not draw up the minutes at that stage. After I came back, I wrote the minutes myself because I remembered your tape, I only received it a very long time after the conversation. I did not receive the tape immediately after the conversation took place. After the conversation between you and Mandela, I wrote the minutes. You will recall that I made notes of the conversation and that was the version that I sent to you.
PW: Why did you destroy the tape?
NB: Sir, it was my judgment at that stage that if the existence of such a tape became known, a tape recording that was made without Mr Mandela being informed, it would have had a detrimental effect and for the sake of national interest, it was my judgment that it would not be a good thing for the existence of such a tape to become public knowledge.
PW: Why did you not come here to inform me? Did you not trust me? Why did you not come and inform me, Dr Barnard? You knew where I lived. I ask you, did you know where I live?
NB: Yes, sir, I knew.
PW: You could even have telephoned me and said: Sir, we are going to destroy that tape. Did you do that?
NB: No, sir.
PW: You didn’t do it. You could have written me a note to say you were going to destroy the tape. Did you do so?
PW: You did not. All right. First you destroy the tape without telling me you have done so. You do not make a transcript and you don’t tell me that you are not doing so. You leave me out of the loop. Why, after so many years of trust between us, did you turn your back on me? Look me in the eyes and tell me.
NB: Sir, in all honesty, I was acting in your interest, because it was my judgement that it would not be in your interest if it became public knowledge that such a tape had been made without Mandela knowing.
PW: He was a prisoner, Dr Barnard. I had the right to tape a prisoner. Did I not?
NB: Sir, I don’t agree with you on that point, but …
PW: Oh, now you disagree, for the first time. For the first time in all the years that you helped to make tape recordings in my office. Let me ask you this: Were you aware that tape recordings were made in the state president’s office?
NB: We were aware of that, sir.
PW: Are tape recordings still being made in the state president’s office?
NB: Not that I know of.
PW: Not that you know of, but you do know that tapes were made of me and the leader of the opposition?
NB: Sir, if I could just explain. We were responsible for installing the surveillance apparatus in your office, as well as elsewhere. But we were certainly not aware of conversations or whose conversations were recorded on tape.
PW: Very well. But you were aware that this tape existed?
NB: Yes, sir, I was aware of that.
PW: And you knew that I took a particularly firm line with Mandela that day? I would like to know that, first.
NB: Yes, sir.
PW: Doctor, you need to speak up, don’t mumble. Were you aware that I told Mandela he would have to reject violence?
NB: Yes sir, that is spelt out more fully in the report I compiled …
PW: Did I tell you afterwards that this report was not an accurate reflection of how strongly I stated my point of view?
NB: Sir, you wrote me a letter in which you said, if I remember the sentence correctly: I am under the impression that I put the case for the Afrikaner far more strongly than your minutes show.
PW: That is correct. And did I not do so? After all, you were there.
NB: Sir, I did not go into detail in that report of mine about how strongly you made the case for the Afrikaner and I did not read that report again before coming here. But I wrote in the report that you told him the political future of South Africa could not include the trampling of the Afrikaner.
PW: And that he had to abandon violence.
NB: That is correct, sir, and I said so in the report.
PW: Barely, yes. You wrote a pathetic report on the conversation, but there were witnesses. And in order to satisfy me after I’d been battling for more than a year to get this thing out of you, surely you could have gone to Mr Kobie Coetsee and to General Willemse [Correctional Services] and said: Let’s send Mr Botha a certified copy of what happened there. Couldn’t you have done that?
NB: I could have done that.
PW: Then why didn’t you? Over all these years you’ve had an obligation to me, not only as an official but as a friend. You acted as if you were my friend. Were you a friend of mine?
NB: I was, Mr Botha.
PW: But you aren’t any longer.
NB: No, sir, I don’t agree with that. I don’t agree with that at all.
PW: What happened, Dr Barnard, that caused you to neglect your duty to me? I would like to know this morning.
NB: But sir, I have just explained to you why I destroyed the tape. I destroyed the tape because …
PW: Without consulting me. You say you destroyed the tape because you wanted to protect me. You want me to believe that, but at the same time you admit … but there were photographs taken! Weren’t there photographs taken? Photographs were taken in your presence. You appear in some of them. I have the photographs and you are in them. And Mr Kobie Coetsee is also in the photographs, not so?
NB: Yes, sir.
PW: And General Willemse appears in the photographs, doesn’t he?
NB: Yes.
PW: And Ters Ehlers made the tape and Ters Ehlers saw to it that the tape was handed to you. Is that correct?
NB: Yes, the tape was handed to me, as I said.
PW: By Miss Mostert, who is still in your employ. But you went and destroyed the tape. Dr Barnard, answer me yes or no. You destroyed all those facts … destroyed the tape without consulting me.
NB: Sir, that is correct, I did not consult you.
PW: Very well. That is the measure of your friendship, you see.
EB: But it was your property.
PW: Just a moment – but it was my property. It was my property and you knew very well that a tape recording was being made. You knew that.
NB: Yes, I knew.
PW: Very well. Right. Now let’s go further, Dr Barnard. You did not make a copy. You did not make a copy that you could have had certified, purely for my purposes, or were you scared that I would use it?
NB: No, sir, why would I be afraid that you would use it?
PW: But then why did you not do it, man?
NB: But Sir, we didn’t have the tape in the period immediately after it was made, Sir.
PW: But my good man, I didn’t ask for the tape immediately. I wanted a copy.
NB: But by then the tape had already been destroyed.
PW: But what about the copy? Yes, he destroyed the tape.
EB: But it belongs to INCH, they want it. Because everything that INCH has got is documentation.
PW: And you know that, Dr Barnard, and I know you are in a hurry, but I’m still going to give you tea as well. But you will answer my questions here this morning on tape. I have – wait, I’ll repeat, because I want this to be very clear. You destroyed the tape.
NB: Sir, may I please be allowed to explain. The tape was made while the conversation was taking place in 1989 and I have just explained to you that I drew up the minutes of the conversation and filed them. I did not have the tape at the time. Then the tape was handed to me by Geraldine Mostert, a long time afterwards. Now I would like to ask a question. It was customary that when such tapes were recorded, the transcripts were typed up at the president’s office and not at the service. They were only handed to the service much later.
PW: They were typed by someone. Miss Mostert typed them. She typed them and she is still in your employ, isn’t she?
NB: No, sir, a transcript was not made.
PW: I asked you, is she still in your employ?
NB: She is still in the service.
PW: In other words, an official of yours who is still in your service, made the transcript.
NB: No she didn’t, sir, she did not.
PW: Well then who did?
NB: Sir, I have just told you that no transcript was ever made. No one listened to the tape and there was never …
PW: Very well. Then she did not do so, but you could still have had a transcript made for me.
NB: I suppose I could have done that, sir.
PW: Don’t forget, Dr Barnard, you are a trained security man. You were trained to negotiate with security services all over the world. Don’t try and play dumb here in my home this morning. Answer my questions. And my question is, why did you not respond in a positive manner when I asked you nicely? In a thoroughly decent way. Here is the correspondence. Should I read to you what you wrote back to me? Do you want me to read it to you?
NB: You can read it, Sir.
PW: I’m going to read it to you, Dr Barnard, because it is extremely important. You have no idea how important these things are to me. ‘Receive herewith the minutes that I personally compiled with respect to the meeting between you and Mr Mandela that took place on 5 July 1989.’ You did not take those minutes.
NB: I certainly took notes while we were sitting there.
PW: Very well. Can I have a copy of those notes?
NB: But that is what I sent to you.
PW: I said: Can you let me have a copy of the notes?
NB: But sir, I don’t have the notes I made … after I drew up a report for you and made a copy, I didn’t keep the notes. I gave you …
PW: What did you do with the notes that you took at the time?
NB: I destroyed them, sir. Why would I keep them?
PW: Then you say: ‘I wish to courteously draw your attention to the fact that the content of these minutes is subject to the determinations of the Protection of Information Act.’ Was it necessary to say that to me? After you – how many years were you my official?
NB: Nearly ten years, sir.
PW: Who appointed you?
NB: You appointed me, sir.
PW: I appointed you and for ten years you worked for me and then this is the letter that you write to me. And you destroy a document that is mine. Is that so? I’m asking you: Is that so?
NB: I destroyed the document. Whether it was your document, sir, is almost certainly a question for debate. It was actually the property of the state.
PW: I was entitled to it. I am entitled to all documents relating to everything I did in my official capacity. No, Dr Barnard, I’ll tell you what happened. You all thought I was going to die. But I did not die, and I am still alive and just as healthy, if not more so.
NB: I would just like to say, sir, that comment is entirely uncalled for.
PW: Well, let’s go a little further, Dr Barnard. So far, I’ve got you. You destroyed it. Are you prepared to let me have a certified copy of these minutes?
NB: Certainly, sir.
PW: Will you do so today?
NB: Sir, I will sign them right now, though if I’m not mistaken, my signature already appears at the end of the minutes.
PW: Good. Then you will do this today. You will do so today, but I have not finished with you yet, Dr Barnard. I have not finished with you. We are going to talk about a few more things today. I’ll tell you this, when I think about the way you took your leave of me, the decency of the department, and the way I said goodbye to you, how my wife and I treated you and the department, and I look into your eyes this morning, then I can come to only one conclusion. And that is that you have turned your back on me and that you have stabbed me in the back.
NB: No, sir, that is not correct.
PW: Yes, yes. Now sign there. Have you got a pen?
NB: I have a pen, sir. Do you want me to sign every page?
PW: You must sign every page. This will be preserved for posterity. Since when has it been the practice at National Intelligence to destroy such valuable documents?
NB: Sir, it is customary in the intelligence world to destroy documents that could be an embarrassment to the state.
PW: Did that document embarrass you?
NB: No, it did not cause embarrassment.
PW: My question is, did that document compromise you?
NB: No it did not, sir, because it was still …
PW: In other words, it did not fall into that class of documents that could be an embarrassment to you.
NB: No sir, I don’t agree and in all fairness, I have just told you …
PW: It was at Mandela’s request that I spoke to him. He was a prisoner and he went back to jail. Not so? Did you inform him that such a document existed?
NB: No, sir.
PW: Oh, so you negotiate with him but you don’t tell him there is a document of this nature which dates back to my tenure. I have no objection to you telling him. Because I am a man, not a coward. Do you understand that?
NB: I do.
PW: And is that how you know me?
NB: It is.
PW: Very well then, I have no objection to you telling him because he has always had respect for me, just as many other black people have and many other white people, because they know that I have walked a straight line all my life. Is that correct?
NB: It is.
PW: Now I want to ask you a couple of questions, Dr Barnard, and then you are going to have tea with us. But first we need to get these matters out of the way. Why are you persecuting my family?
NB: Sir, that is absolutely not true.
PW: Why are you allowing NI to follow members of my family?
NB: There is no truth to that.
PW: Very well. Now let me ask you. Wait a moment. Now I want to ask you, are you listening in on my family’s conversations?
NB: No, sir.
PW: You are not listening in. Are there instructions that none of our telephones are to be bugged?
NB: There is an instruction that none of your telephones are to be bugged.
PW: Where is this instruction? Can you let me have a copy of it?
NB: No, sir, we don’t issue such instructions on paper. I have just told you. Sir, are you honestly telling me that you really believe we are …
PW: We do not trust you, man, and you have yourself to blame for that. I don’t trust you.
NB: But why not?
PW: Listen to me, Doctor, I don’t trust you and you are the reason, because of your behaviour towards me. But there are other things that will come up, don’t worry, Doctor. You’ve been keeping secrets. I am keeping secrets too. Understand me, this is far from over. I turned to Mr de Klerk as the political head of National Intelligence and I am grateful that he forced you to come here, otherwise you would not have done so.
NB: That is not correct.
PW: Of course it is. You have avoided me for two years. Other heads of department have come to see me.
NB: We couldn’t get hold of you.
PW: Your officials, when I telephoned you, you were not available. Are you aware of that?
NB: I was … the only time that I knew you wanted to speak to me was when I wasn’t there, when Mr James Calvin came to see you, to explain.
PW: Mr James Calvin was here. He sat here for a quarter of an hour and told me he didn’t know what to say to me. Because I did not trust him.
NB: Sir, please let me explain the matter of the tape. If you will give me the opportunity.
PW: Yes, tell me the truth. Let’s hear it, yes.
NB: Sir, the truth is, although you disagree with me, that in my judgment, the tape had to be destroyed because if it became known that you had recorded an extremely important and historic conversation without the other man’s knowledge, and this was made public, it would have caused immeasurable damage to you personally and to the whole process of political negotiation. That was my judgement, sir, and that is why the tape was destroyed. Please let me explain.
Then I sent the man, when you sent your next letter to me, and I want to go further than that letter that I wrote to you. You will see from the letters and the correspondence that I exchanged with you and which you have recorded on tape this morning, and I have no problem with that, I have consistently tried to steer away from acknowledging that such a tape was made, because I felt that it could ultimately reflect badly on you. That is the reason for the tape’s destruction, and that it is why I sent that man to you to come and explain …
PW: But why did you not come yourself?
NB: Well, I probably should have.
PW: Why did you not send a responsible senior official? Mr Calvin is not one of your senior officials. When Dr Prinsloo tried to obtain a copy from you, he was rudely dismissed. Why did you not send Louw [Mike, Barnard’s deputy] if you couldn’t come yourself?
NB: Sir, do you know why we asked James Calvin to come? Because we knew that he had known you and your family well over many years.
PW: We don’t know him. Where do you get that? No man, the first day that he was here he introduced himself and said he had been sent by you and that was our first meeting.
NB: Then it seems there has been a misunderstanding, sir. He knows …
PW: But you didn’t send the department head from Cape Town to me. Who was the head?
NB: Sir, he is the department head in Cape Town.
PW: Now, perhaps. But he wasn’t at that time.
NB: At the time he came here he had already been appointed as head of the department.
PW: Yes, but while I was in the Cape, who was the head of the department there?
NB: I don’t know, it was probably still Mr Tommy Malan, who has now retired.
PW: Yes, you see. Who was it that received us at your offices in the Cape at your initiative every year?
NB: That was Mr Tommy Malan.
PW: Tommy Malan. Why didn’t you send him?
NB: Sir, he is on pension.
PW: Oh, but you could still have sent him, because you knew I had asked.
NB: Sir, honestly, let me just say this. This is really a matter about which I … Mr James Calvin is the man who over the years spoke to Rozanne and, as I understood it, on occasion also had conversations with you and with other people.
PW: Where?
NB: Sir, he gave me to understand that he was frequently in touch with Rozanne and with …
PW: But what for? Rozanne is married to a – man, leave Rozanne out of this. Leave Rozanne out of this. Look, you are dealing with me now. Don’t drag my children into this.
NB: Sir, I am not trying to drag your children in.
PW: All right, wait now. Leave my children. You, Dr Barnard, you had me to deal with and you did not see me as might have been expected. You never asked to come and see me. Correct?
NB: That is correct.
PW: You didn’t send Louw, your second in command. Correct?
NB: That is correct, sir.
PW: In the third place, you did not send your parliamentary official. Correct?
NB: That is correct, sir.
PW: In other words, you did not send the most obvious people. Come now, Dr Barnard. Surely you could have – when we tried to telephone you at home, I got no reply. I got no reply and I left messages for you. There was no reaction. And I tried to call your office while Calvin was sitting here with me that day.
You are sitting in my lounge, not in my study. He came and sat in the study and he didn’t have a word to say to me, because you had not briefed him properly. And he was fairly nervous, I must say. And then I tried to telephone you in Pretoria and it was impossible to get hold of you.
And I suspect that your entire department did not want to put me in touch with you. Understand that. In other words, I don’t believe anything that you say. Dr Barnard, I brought you into National Intelligence because it was a corrupt department, and you know it. You know, you know that National Intelligence or the Bureau [for State Security] was a weak link. Do you remember that?
NB: Sir, I’m not in a position to judge, that was the way it was handled.
PW: Just a minute, man, I brought you in to do a job and I told you that you had to sort out that department and that you had to cooperate with the other intelligence departments. Is that not so?
NB: It is.
PW: And you were with me for ten years, and for ten years, I believed you. And then on the day I left, not the exact day, a short while before, I told Mr de Klerk, you can trust Dr Barnard. And for two years, you neglected to make contact with me. I had to approach you, repeatedly, and in vain.
And with those words, PW ended his castigation of Niel Barnard that morning. I have no idea if Barnard was in the mood to linger for tea and Tannie Elize’s mouth-watering cookies, but there it was, black on white, a tongue-lashing of note from the Groot Krokodil.
Nor was that the end of Barnard’s troubles, because afterwards PW summoned the media and broadcast the entire saga between him and the director general of NI over those damned Mandela tapes.
For more than a week there were reports about the tape row and the way that PW, true to form, had pulverised the country’s chief spy that morning in his living room at Die Anker.
The whole affair seriously embarrassed Barnard, but it also damaged NI’s image. In the top echelon of NI, there was a growing awareness that something had to be done, and quickly, to distract the media’s attention from the scandal of the tapes.
Meanwhile, General Lang Hendrik van den Bergh had come out of seclusion on the chicken farm near Bapsfontein, where he had retired from the public eye.
It was no secret that he and PW had little time for one another. Lang Hendrik was a John Vorster man who had suffered severe damage from the Information Scandal and been sidelined by PW.
Lang Hendrik was highly the moer in because PW had told his successor as chief spy, Niel Barnard, that BOSS was corrupt and ineffective, and he told the newspapers that he had instructed his lawyer to sue over these allegations.
The country’s historians were deeply disturbed by Barnard’s unilateral decision to destroy the Mandela tapes, and the council of the South African Historical Society noted ‘with concern’ that an important historical source like the tape recording of the interview between PW and Mandela had been destroyed and lost to future researchers.
Piet van der Schyff, professor in history at the University of Potchefstroom and president of the society, said in a statement: ‘The preservation of historical sources and their eventual usefulness in the recording of history is a matter of national interest and the council wishes to express the hope that sources of this nature will be dealt with more circumspectly in future.’
Little did Van der Schyff and other historians realise how many tons of valuable documentation about South Africa’s history would be systematically destroyed by the intelligence community and other government departments over the next few years in a desperate attempt to eradicate the past.
PW, meanwhile, was on a roll. This was the first time he had let his voice be heard from the Wilderness since retiring as state president, and it was clear that he intended exploiting his run-in with Barnard to the full, even if only to remind the nation that they had not heard the last of PW Botha.
He not only sent copies of the Mandela minutes to FW and the leader of the opposition, Dr Andries Treurnicht, but also dragged the newly appointed ombudsman, Judge Piet van der Walt, into the fight and requested that he resolve the situation.
And that was that. Having briefly re-entered the public arena to make known his differences with Barnard, PW once again withdrew. He had achieved his goal – to attack Barnard in an open forum and beat him.
On 8 November 2006, when PW was laid to rest next to Tannie Elize in the cemetery at Hoekwil, near George, Niel Barnard was among those who attended the memorial service. Another former colleague who came to pay his final respects to the old Krokodil was Gerrit Viljoen, frail at the age of eighty, who attended in a wheelchair. Gene Louw, who had always been an outspoken admirer of PW, was also there.
FW de Klerk shared the front pew in the church with President Thabo Mbeki. There are those who swear that the gall displayed by FW in attending the service was enough to make PW turn in his grave.