majority rule. The independence of Ghana in 1957 had been followed by Nigeria and Belgian Congo in 1960, then Tanzania, Uganda, Kenya, Malawi and Zambia in quick succession.
Smith had no doubt that black-run government was a bad thing. ‘The story was always the same,’ he later wrote in his autobiography. ‘Tribal violence and massacres, political opponents imprisoned, coups, streams of white refugees who had been dispossessed of their property, rampant corruption and the establishment of external bank accounts by their leaders.’ In particular, he commented, the white refugees fleeing from the newly independent Belgian Congo ‘left an indelible impression on our people’.
When he was elected Prime Minister in 1964, Smith had no intention of being the next victim of what Harold Macmillan called the ‘winds of change’ sweeping through the continent. Rhodesia was more complicated because although the whites numbered only 220,000 compared to almost 5 million blacks and went back at most three generations, they considered themselves just as indigenous. The Rhodesian leader also pointed out that, unlike other African colonies, his country had a sophisticated economy based on mining and agriculture with its own merchant banks and stock exchange. If it was to be independent, he wanted it under continued white minority rule to safeguard all this.
But Wilson's Labour government insisted that independence must come with a constitution entrenching universal suffrage, and negotiations ended in stalemate. After taking the precaution of moving the country's gold and other assets out of the Bank of England, Smith took a vote of his cabinet, placed a crack SAS unit on standby and drove to the studios of the Rhodesian Broadcasting Company. There he recorded a message to the nation in which he accused the British of shattering years of loyalty ‘on the rocks of expediency’ and proclaimed independence. Smith was no orator, but even in his flat nasal monotone it was dramatic.
After the initial Shockwaves, the white community rallied round, generally agreeing with their Prime Minister's assessment of Rhodesia as ‘an oasis of peace in an otherwise turbulent continent’. Some African states called for a British invasion, but this was ignored, and although an international trade embargo was imposed, Rhodesians soon developed ways to circumvent it, helped by Portugal and South Africa on whom they depended for ports. Alone among the European colonial powers, Portugal's fascist regime refused to grant independence to its African possessions and fought a bitter war in Mozambique, which borders Rhodesia. South Africa's apartheid regime was a natural ally of Smith, and extended considerable military and economic assistance as well as allowing Rhodesian gold and other minerals to be passed off as of South African origin. Farmers like the Houghs were urged to increase production to feed the nation.
Nigel's mother was a staunch supporter of Smith and would come back from shopping with locally produced cornflakes and teabags in plastic bags stamped with the words ‘Rhodesia is SUPER’‘. Nigel wore T-shirts bearing similar patriotic slogans. Smith was quite a dour man but he did have a presence and, especially for a country that was basically farming-based, he was kind of one of the boys.
Mary had been born in Rhodesia on the farm her father Jerry had pegged out in 1919 when he arrived from England. Jerry Timms was from a cricketing family in Syresham in Northamptonshire and his wife was from Yorkshire. Nobody talked much about it but, from what Nigel understood, his grandfather had been the black sheep of the family who had been sent as far away as possible after the First World War for some unspecified misdeed. Sending wayward sons off to far corners of the empire was common in those days. Timms had travelled by ship to Cape Town, and there picked up a horse, which he rode across the country to Rhodesia where he had heard there were plenty of opportunities. He had pegged out some land and become a farmer, eventually prospering enough to be able to send his daughters back to finishing school in England.
John Hough had also been born on a farm, but in England, in the affluent stockbroker belt of Surrey. His father was not a farmer but a director of Lloyds of London who had purchased Jordans Farm because he happened to like the country life, and John grew up a dreamer, always up trees bird-watching or tending fledglings that had fallen from their nests. After such freedom, it was a shock for John and his twin brother to be sent to Repton public school in Derbyshire. Repton was a strict establishment which instilled in him both a love of Beethoven and Blake and a lifelong hatred of pomposity. One of his classmates was Roald Dahl, and the school had an unusual saving grace, which John believed must have inspired his schoolfellow's famous literary confectioner Willie Wonka. Every so often boxes would arrive from the Cadbury's chocolate company of prototype bars for the boys to test out and award ratings.
Apart from ornithology, John Hough's great passion was flying. After leaving Repton, he had been a Spitfire pilot in the Second World War, along with Roald Dahl and also Ian Smith. The future Rhodesian leader was seriously injured when he crashed in North Africa, but recovered to be based in Corsica where he was shot down and helped by Partisani resistance fighters to escape through enemy lines. While Smith liked to be seen as a wartime hero, Nigel's father rarely talked about his own experiences. He would be the first to confess that his motives for joining the RAF were less the destruction of Hitler and more to imitate the flight of a peregrine falcon. The Spitfire gave him the dual pleasure of breathless flight and the thrill of being powered by a Griffin engine. He loved flight and he loved engines.
When the war was over, John's father hoped his sons would follow him into the family insurance business. Instead both loved the outdoors and went to Africa, only their sister remaining behind. Tragically John's twin brother died shortly after, drowning while saving the life of a friend who had fallen in the Zambezi.
The twins had been inseparable, and John was distraught. Rather than return home, he found himself a job in Rhodesia, training pilots for the Rhodesian Air Force which had combined operations with the RAF. He was one of many British war veterans who turned up with handlebar moustaches and RAF badges. Like most of them, John fell in love with the country, which must have seemed like a land of plenty after the deprivations of post-war London with its grey skies, food rationing and empty shelves. In Southern Rhodesia there were fresh eggs, ham, sausages and bacon as well as endless sunshine, golf courses and wide-open spaces, wonderful for a keen sportsman and bird-lover. There was also the luxury of maids to do the washing and cleaning.
When John finally went back to London to work at Lloyds as his father wished, he found office life suffocatingly dull and was soon hankering for the wide skies of Africa. A friend found him another position in Rhodesia, managing the Timms’ farm at Inyazura near Rusape. The Timms' daughter Mary had recently returned from finishing her studies in England and was working as a matron at a local school, but John saw enough of her over the dinner table to be smitten. However, the romance seemed doomed when he lost his job on the farm because Mary's sister married a farmer who took his place, and he returned to the Rhodesian Air Force as a trainer.
John was a slightly built man in a land of hale, sporty types and had little other than his eccentric sense of humour to win the charms of a local beauty, so had to resort to other means. At times when he thought Mary would be at the farm, he would sign out his Spitfire for an hour, then make the twenty-minute flight from Harare, perform a twenty-minute aerobatic display overhead in the manner of a peacock fanning its feathers, then fly back. With him in the cockpit was his crow Mr Ponsonby. Once he flew so fast to get back within the hour after dallying over the farm that the bird lost all his feathers and John had to stick some back in.
His airborne wooing succeeded and the couple were married on 11 September 1952, Mary's 26th birthday, at Rusape. Their honeymoon was spent at Leopard Rock hotel, along with Mr Ponsonby and John's pet owl and a hawk. Leopard Rock had been built entirely of stone by Italian prisoners of war during the Second World War and looked like a castle with its lavish gardens and incredible views over the lush green Bvumba valley. It was the most fashionable resort in Rhodesia and the Queen stayed there during her visit the following year. Nine months after their honeymoon, the Houghs' first son Edwin was born and they bought their own farm.
In his first year as a farmer John Hough
