Africa is Fiction
For some time now I've wanted to write true African stories because not many people hear about Africa and because the stories carry themselves despite any shortcomings of writing prowess.
This story is the intersection of a prime minister, an African country, arms dealers, a professional army, a couple of dictators, and a super power or two. Oh, and throw in a Texan car dealer, diamond mines, and some civil war while we're keeping track...
Footnote up front: I read a lot about the coup attempt in various publications. I wrote this because it wasn't highly profiled here in the US, and there aren't any stories that stitch all the news articles together. There are probably a few factual errors in the following but as a whole it remains true to the real script. I didn't have time to cite each and every piece of the story but I'd encourage you to read up if you're interested. The truth, in this case, is better than the fiction.
On March 7, 2004, a group of seventy mercenaries were arrested at an airport in Harare, Zimbabwe. They had recently departed from South Africa via chartered aircraft and were there for a brief stop before heading towards their final destination which, at the time, seemed a mystery. They may have succeeded in their mission to stage a coup d'etat, but South African president, Thabo Mbeki alerted Zimbabwean authorities of the plot before the plane had left South African airspace. Without this tip off, it's doubtful that the Zimbabweans would have ever realized what was going on.
In the aftermath of it all, it was found that this band of soldiers was headed to Equatorial Guinea to stage a coup d'etat against the problem child dictator, Teodoro Obiang. Equatorial Guinea was an insignificant former Spanish colony for a long time, but a few years ago black gold was discovered off of its coast. In a region where America is eager to promote oil production at the expense of dealing with Saudi's, Iraqi's and other Arabs, the country became, for all practical purposes, a gold mine.
South Africa has been a launching point for many secret wars. The governments before the end of apartheid were bent on maintaining power by destabilizing the region around them. Fingerprints from wars in Angola and Mozambique trailed back to such ambition. When apartheid ended, many of these soldiers and special military units languished without clear objectives.
Africa is a turbulent place however, and for the vast geography it boasts as a continent, it's filled with chaos at every corner. Experience in waging war, quelling uprisings, and overturning governments can be lucrative. The apartheid era special forces and security goons could still be useful: they were soldiers looking for a general.
It's strange how a life of comfort and privilege so often inspires a desire for adventure. Perhaps it's because there's so much time to think of the concept of significance. Although he was privy to the most exclusive education and a brewing fortune in England, Simon Mann, a former SAS officer decided to try his stakes at African conflict. Together with some colleagues he founded Executive Outcomes(EO), a private army that fronted itself as a "security outfit." EO staffed itself with many of the unemployed South Africans looking for a new identity in the post apartheid era. And EO was successful: it took them only months to put down rebels in Sierra Leone where the government had spent the better part of 10 years in conflict, and in similar ventures as an army it had encountered much success in conflicts all over Africa. Although many of the governments that contracted the private army were poor, EO took its pay in the spoils of war: diamonds and gold, which were mined in the countries EO serviced.
Even though EO was later formally disbanded, as a shadowy organization of contacts, it still persisted. I wonder if diamonds got a little too boring, too small an ambition. I wonder if, in a conference call from Langley to London, some intelligence officials "thought aloud" of making Equatorial Guinea a better place to do business. The British official then "thought aloud" to Simon Mann, well known for his expertise in "getting things done" in Africa. The official, without suggesting anything, mentions that there is the exile, Severo Moto, who would be capable, if installed, of running the country in the absence of Obiang. Or perhaps it was the Spanish government who floated the idea. That's what Obiang believes. We civilians will probably never know.
Mann knows a guy, Nick du Toit, who he's used for some arms deals and logistics support in the past. Nick's another soldier looking for a battle; he is a former member of South Africa's elite Special Task Forces. Nick is installed in Equatorial Guinea under the guise of a fishing company that he runs there. Nick knows a lot of people in the government who are either sick of Teodoro and feel like they can get along better without him. It's not difficult to front Nick as a businessman while he establishes contacts and does logistical planning.
Waging war takes money, and every general needs a backer. Mann's got many assets he can use to get his operation on the ground, but there is some equipment that is simply beyond his reach. The trick is to find a seedy personality with a lot of money, but not bright enough to jeopardize the plan. Enter Mark Thatcher, son of former British Prime Minister, Margaret "Maggie" Thatcher. Mann knows Thatcher, and he knows that he can use him.
Sir Mark Thatcher has never been known for his intelligence. Although he managed to finish high school, he failed accountancy exams thrice before giving up on formal education. He is perhaps most famous for being lost in the Sahara while participating in the Paris-Dakar rally. It could be argued that this fame (or infamy) came from the tear it elicited from his mother, then Prime Minister of Great Britain. Margaret Thatcher, the champion capitalist, a woman who stared down fascists, labor unions, and welfare recipients, the so-called "Iron Lady" who joined Reagan in aggressively dealing with the Soviets, the intellectual chemist turned lawyer turned politician, wept for her lost son in the African desert.
Although Mark's life continued to be a litany of scandals, he managed to carve a comfortable life for himself through the political connections of his mother and his inherited capital. It didn't hurt that he married the daughter of a wealthy Texan car dealer. It was a perfect coalescence of heir and heiress, power from the old world and money from the new one.
Nick du Toit meets with Sir Mark on four occasions to arrange financing for a military helicopter. Thatcher explained later that he believed he was buying a military helicopter to be used as an air ambulance. In this case Thatcher has the wonderful countenance of George Bush: one cannot conclusively decide whether he's bright enough to present himself as this gullible, or an honest fool who thought that a mercenary asking for a military helicopter wanted to do medical airlifts to make Africa a better place.
Sir Mark Thatcher has been involved in a lot of failed businesses and corrupt schemes, many of which have required the intervention of his mother, or, as he calls her, "Mumsy." Shortly after the mercenaries were detained in Zimbabwe, South African authorities arrested him and began to prepare formal charges. Once again, Mumsy came to his rescue, putting up hundreds of thousands of dollars necessary for bail to give him freedom. It has only been a short time since Mumsy was rescuing Mark; a few years ago he was in trouble in the US when the former prime minister had to execute another half million dollar intervention, this time in an out of court settlement with a business partner who accused Sir Mark of money laundering, conspiracy, theft, perjury, and assault. Mumsy, it would seem, loves her son Mark. Once Mumsy's money has done the talking, Mark is headed for Texas to join his wife and children. No price, as he put it, is too big to be with his family.
Sir Mark may have eluded the eyes of authority but for the desperation of Simon Mann. In the face of insurmountable charges from his incarceration in Zimbabwe, he cobbles scraps of paper together to write to his wife and his lawyer, urging them to rally what money and influence they had to get him out. Although Thatcher was eventually linked in this letter, it also presented embarrassing leads to many other "investors" in the failed project.
Like most African stories, this one resolves itself with many questions. Nick du Toit is in Equatorial Guinea when the Harare arrests take place. Obiang is furious and Nick barely avoids a death sentence. He and his co-conspirators are imprisoned and tortured. They are abandoned by their business partners and cannot appease the wrath of the dictator. One German conspirator dies of what is reported as "malaria." I'd believe a person died of constipation in a concentration camp before I bought this.
Mann is able to put together the resources to buy himself out of a bleak fate; what starts off as the possibility of extradition to Equatorial Guinea to share in Obiang's wrath with du Toit becomes a seven year sentence. Later this is reduced to a four year sentence with the possibility that he could be paroled in two years. I wonder how many diamonds from Congo and Sierra Leone that took.
The African mercenaries, none of which had the names or pedigree for journalistic focus, have been forgotten. Without substantial money and resources, these soldiers may well spend the rest of their productive lives behind bars. It seems like that is the African fate: that of a character actor about whom no one asks once the plot has been resolved for the protagonist. There is no doubt that these are tough men, even killers, but I still feel bad for them as they are crowded and obscured in a miserable jail in Harare.
Behind all of this are other hands: hands that move empires, topple governments, wage war, groom generals, sacrifice soldiers, hands which acquire gold, diamonds, and oil. These are hands which move swiftly and silently, making Africa as we know it. They succeed and fail without our awareness, and without our accountability.
7:52:28 PM 
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