Something Burning

THE COMMONWEALTH

It was the 300th anniversary of the Great Fire of London, and the city rocked last week to the thump of gun salutes and fireworks bursting over the Thames. In the great conference room of Marlborough House, however, it was not only the city of London that appeared to be burning but the entire Commonwealth of Nations.

The occasion was the 16th Commonwealth Prime Ministers' conference, and the primary issue was Rhodesia. Last January, Britain's Harold Wilson had talked the Commonwealth's nine African nations into going along with his policy of economic sanctions as the best way to topple Ian Smith's white rebel regime and prepare the way for handing the government over to Rhodesia's repressed black majority. But the sanctions have not worked, and Wilson last week faced a different kind of rebellion.

Vain Hope? Zambia, whose economy is closely linked to Rhodesia's, threatened to leave the Commonwealth entirely. Five African heads of state found excuses not to attend the conference, and Tanzania's Julius Nyerere refused even to send a delegation in his place. Sierra Leone's Sir Albert Margai, one of the four African Premiers who showed up in person, apparently came to the meeting for the sole purpose of attacking Harold Wilson: in a bitter two-hour tirade, he accused the British leader of everything from duplicity to being "anti-African."

Wilson managed to prevent a walkout, largely because most African Commonwealth members had nothing to gain--and too many economic benefits to lose--by leaving. He offered no new tactics against Rhodesia, clung instead to the hope that his economic boycott would eventually bring Smith down.

It seems a vain hope. Ten months after Smith declared independence, Rhodesia is as calm and nearly as prosperous as ever. Salisbury's streets are clogged with cars--whose tanks are filled with gasoline sneaked across the border from South Africa and Mozambique. Factories are still running at nearly full speed, and white unemployment is virtually nonexistent. The country can import whatever it likes from South Africa. There is a desperate shortage of golf balls, and Rhodesian whites are having to make do with locally produced candy, clothing and false teeth, but nothing essential is missing from the shelves.

No Choice. The fact is that Smith has never been stronger. His whites are solidly behind him; although political opposition is still legal, none exists. Last week the Rhodesian High Court, whose members had opposed seizing independence from the start, handed down a decision that assured Smith of at least reluctant collaboration. Turning down an appeal by two men who had been imprisoned without trial at the time of independence, the justices ruled that the Smith government, although "illegal," was in effective control of the country --and that the court had to go along with its dictates.

Wilson is obviously aware of the futility of his sanctions. And yet he has little choice but to stick with them. He rejects the use of armed force, partly because it would be political suicide for his Labor Party at home. He is afraid to plug the holes in his economic blockade by extending the sanctions to South Africa, whose gold is a prop for the sagging British pound. At the same time, Wilson wants desperately to win in Rhodesia. He is convinced, as are many members of his government, that unless Britain can prove its good intentions, the Commonwealth will eventually disintegrate entirely.

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