Jesse Jackson in Africa--an Eye-Opening 2 Weeks

The Rev. Jesse Jackson and his American entourage, on an airborne campaign against apartheid in South Africa, landed in this small, relaxed capital late one night and checked into the Gaborone Sun, the best hotel in town.

They quickly discovered that the hotel was owned by South Africans. That touched off frantic discussions. A Jackson aide buried his head in his hands. “I can see the headlines now,” he said.

In his room, Jackson listened as advisers recommended that he leave immediately. He turned to Gaositwe Chiepe, Botswana’s minister of external affairs, for advice. “You are, of course, free to leave this hotel,” she replied. “But you should know that if you eat breakfast tomorrow, you will be eating food from South Africa. And unless you want to walk, the cars you ride in will be from South Africa. And when your plane leaves for Mozambique it will be flying on South African fuel.”

The experience of that chaotic night, midway through Jackson’s two-week, eight-country tour of Africa last month, opened the eyes of the civil rights leader and 1984 presidential candidate to the realities and contradictions of southern Africa, a region vehemently opposed to South Africa’s apartheid and at the same time heavily dependent on South Africa’s economy.

In the end, Jackson decided to stay at the Gaborone Sun, but he used the lesson he learned there as a theme for his trip: America should fight apartheid by giving military, economic and moral support to South Africa’s neighbors.

“It is easy to take an anti-apartheid stand from a safe distance,” he said later. But up close, he added, one gets a different view and sees that “South Africa is not a country but an empire. It is an octopus with tentacles. Its heart beats in South Africa, but its tentacles are clearly throughout this region.”

Jackson’s initial naivete was quickly forgiven. In fact, Africa’s leaders could not hide their delight at seeing a friendly face from the United States, a country that they desperately want to bring onto their side in the battle against apartheid.

It did not hurt, either, that Jackson was trailed by a crowd of reporters and television cameramen eager to tell people back home about the plight of southern Africa.

Logistical Blunders

Jackson’s hosts even overlooked the frequent logistical blunders and tardiness that attended the journey. In Botswana, for example, government ministers and ambassadors rushed to the airport at 4 p.m. Jackson did not show up until 10:30 p.m., missing a government reception in his honor.

In Mozambique, the red carpet was rolled out for Jackson’s 9 a.m. arrival and was still there when he arrived 10 hours later, having missed a day of appointments and tours arranged by the government.

Through it all, Jackson was treated as a visiting head of state, and accorded a royal reception that surprised even veteran diplomats. His Noah’s Ark delegation--two farmers, one black, one white; two union officials; two relatives; two record company executives; a handful of professors, political supporters and public relations people--was whisked into presidential mansions and treated to elegant state dinners.

Delighted Crowds

In Angola, a fleet of Mercedes-Benzes ferried the entire delegation. Traditional African music greeted him at several airports and he joined the dancers, to the delight of crowds that had gathered to see him.

President Samora Machel of Mozambique, a small, quick-witted man in a pressed army uniform, stretched his arms wide when the tardy Jackson entered the living room of his palace. “Welcome, Jess!” he said, hugging the American. Then he stepped back to gaze at Jackson.

“Oooo,” he said. “You’re very tall.”

After their official talks, the pair chatted late into the night about American boxing.

Delivered Sermon

Jackson attended a stirring, musical Sunday service in a cavernous tin-roofed church in Lusaka, Zambia, and delivered the sermon.

“I won’t judge you by Botha,” he told the congregation, referring to South Africa’s President Pieter W. Botha. “Do not judge me by Reagan.” He took to the podium at universities in Botswana and Tanzania, saying he was seeking “to reunite our family” four centuries after it was split apart by slave traders.

“We have come full circle,” he said, “from slave ship to championship.”

Jackson held long private conversations with heads of state and other leaders who then, in almost every case, invited in the reporters following him for a rare question-and-answer session. Many of those leaders, after years of vain attempts to interest the United States in their cause, suddenly saw fresh signs of hope.

‘Another America’

“It is very inspiring to see there is another America,” said Alfred Nzo, secretary general of the African National Congress, the outlawed South African opposition group. “This America has nothing to do with the people in power but understands that as long as apartheid stands there will be no peace in the region.”

Although Jackson was technically on a “private visit,” he issued joint communiques with each leader, detailing points of agreement between them. The statements criticized apartheid, urged greater American awareness of the problems of southern Africa and called on President Reagan to meet with leaders of the so-called front-line states--Angola, Botswana, Mozambique, Tanzania, Zambia and Zimbabwe.

“From our distance in the United States there are things we just didn’t understand,” he said in Zambia. “We apologize for being so slow, so late. But we’re here now and Africa and America will never be the same again.”

Brought to Tears

Kenneth D. Kaunda, Zambia’s president and the elder statesman of southern Africa, was in tears after hearing Jackson speak.

“We have warned successive governments in the United States that if you don’t take action in South Africa there will be a catastrophe,” Kaunda said, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “I weep because sensible people are unable to see the truth in this.”

In his farewell remarks, Kaunda told Jackson: “You have won our hearts.”

Jackson and his 50-member delegation hopped from country to country in a green and white Boeing 707 from the Nigerian Airways fleet, lent for his journey by the government of Nigeria, his first stop. His rooms and those of many members of his delegation were paid for by the host governments.

Plenty of Mix-ups

The experience of his last presidential campaign in 1984 did not seem to have improved the Jackson staff’s logistical skills, however. Communiques were issued, but no copies made. One government that made plans for Jackson and 10 people was surprised to see five times that many travelers get off the plane.

Although hotels were fully booked for the Nonaligned Movement summit in Harare, Zimbabwe, the government there set aside an entire suburban hotel for Jackson’s delegation. But a mix-up in the date of arrival left the hotel empty for two days. When Jackson’s group finally arrived, the hotel had to boot out some summit delegates who had been allowed to book rooms there for the period after the Jackson party should have departed.

Eager as governments were to greet Jackson, no one seemed sure when he was arriving. In Angola, officials of the government as well as a crowd were gathered at the airport seven hours before Jackson’s plane landed. A few days later, the government in Botswana, the next stop, received two telexes from Angola. One, in English, said he was arriving at 4 p.m. The other, in Portuguese, had to be translated by a Gaborone supermarket owner. It said he was arriving at 6 p.m.

Kept Them Waiting

The U.S. ambassador, the Nigerian ambassador and government ministers waited more than six hours for Jackson’s arrival that time.

Among the press contingent was a crew from ABC-TV’s “20/20” program, working on a diary of the African journey. Jackson seemed concerned that his trip was receiving less than the broad national attention in the United States he felt it deserved, and he even sent a telegram to Roone Arledge, president of ABC News, complaining about the lack of daily coverage.

Jackson’s journey seemed tailored for television. He held a prayer session on the desolate Botswana-South Africa border. (The delegation left when South African soldiers showed up.)

In Zambia, he walked through a refugee camp that South African troops had bombed and held hands with the residents there to pray for an end to apartheid.

Supporters and Friends

Officers of the African National Congress held hands around a conference table in Zambia with him as he prayed, “We dream of a new South Africa that is for all your children.”

The delegation that Jackson assembled was primarily made up of his political supporters and friends. It included Los Angeles City Councilman Robert Farrell, executives with Solar Records in Los Angeles, members of Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition and aides from Operation PUSH. It also included a few university experts on southern Africa.

Few of the people in the party had much contact with Jackson at all, and the planned exchange of information between the delegation and its counterparts in Africa did not materialize. One member of the Jackson party considered the trip such a waste of time that he went home early. But Jackson’s political supporters thought the trip was a success.

Establishes Rapport

“He’s a risk-taker,” said Merle Hansen, a Newman Grove, Neb., farmer and Rainbow Coalition board member. “It’s remarkable in the political jungle of the United States that he’s been able to do all these things.”

Councilman Farrell, also a Jackson supporter, marveled at the civil rights leader’s ability “to establish a personal rapport with these leaders. My respect for the man has increased.”

It was difficult to determine what Africans really thought of Jackson. One government official described him as “very . . . American.” An internal memorandum circulated by one government characterized Jackson’s trip as “the beginning of his run for the presidency in 1988.” It added that although government officials should be cordial to Jackson, “it is expected he will not help our cause.”

Whatever his political aspirations, Jackson had some personal reasons for making the trip.

His Own Brand of Rhetoric

“I stand with the blood of two continents flowing through my veins,” he said. “We all look alike. We all feel alike.”

When he took the podium to spin his special brand of evangelical and political rhetoric, he could have been in America just as easily as in Africa.

More than 1,000 people crammed into a hall on the University of Botswana campus one night to hear a speech that had received scant advance publicity and was delivered without benefit of a microphone.

Urging the assembled students to repeat after him, Jackson launched into an African version of his trademark chant. “I am somebody,” he began. “I am African. I am proud. . . . “