Armed Forces and Foreign Policy

The problems which face South Africa fall into two distinct time scales. First, there are those issues which must be confronted and resolved before the coming elections on April 27, 1994. These short term problems will tax to breaking point the political ingenuity and goodwill of all the parties involved in their resolution. As a betting man I would not like to put any money on guessing the outcome, but as a political scientist I am under no illusions about their importance to the future of South Africa. Arguably, the next six months are the most important in the country's history.

It would be tempting to believe that, once this critical period is over, the new transitional power-sharing government will be able to relax and catch its breath, but I am afraid this is unlikely to be the case. After the elections, the serious long term problems facing South Africa will have to be addressed, and it is clear that these problems are at least as difficult as those of more immediate concern. The position is realistically summarised by the claim that unless South Africa survives in the short run it will have little chance of surviving in the long run; but even if it overcomes the immediate difficulties there are no guarantees that it will survive in the long run. This paper looks ahead to the problems which a new government will face, and it accepts as its starting point the fairly optimistic assumption that the election will take place (more or less on time), and that the new power sharing government will have sufficient legitimacy and credibility both within and beyond South Africa to be able to govern effectively.

In considering the problems which will have to be faced, it is clear that they fall into two categories. First, there are those which relate to internal policies and the provision of a stable and orderly domestic environment in which ordinary people can prosper. Second, there are those problems which relate to external affairs. Though the distinction between foreign and domestic policy is not as sharp as the layman thinks, it remains a useful one. It enables us to see that in the years ahead most of the new government's energy is going to be directed internally, towards the provision of order and welfare, rather than externally, towards foreign policy and security. My hope is that, however demanding domestic problems become, they will not totally consume the energies of the coalition government. It would be a pity if the Republic became an inward looking, introspective country, totally preoccupied with its own difficulties. Foreign policy and defence problems may be allocated somewhat low priority by the new government but they ought not to slip off the agenda altogether.

That is why, even at this stage, when everyone is engrossed in more immediate problems, it is worth giving some thought to South Africa's future foreign and defence policy and the relationship between them. Perhaps it is particularly important for those who are caught up in rapid political changes to take a moment or two to reflect on what is happening around them. Decision makers need to escape the welter of events in order to take stock, to acquire perspective and to think things through.

So let me begin this discussion of armed forces and foreign policy by reminding everyone of what has happened to the international environment against which future South African foreign policy must be planned. In a word, that environment has been revolutionised, The Cold War is over and with it the Soviet threat to South Africa (never very serious in my view) has disappeared. The Cubans have left Angola and the threat of Communism imposed from the outside has gone. Even more important, the hostility of the international community has now evaporated; sanctions are being progressively lifted and most countries are anxious to help rather than hinder the South African government's progress along the road to democracy. The demise of 'apartheid' has vastly improved diplomatic relations with all African states and the ending of 'destabilisation' policies towards the Front-line states has begun a healing process which augers well for neighbourly relationships in the future.

These fundamental changes mean that, for the first time in over forty years, South African foreign policy has an opportunity to break out of a straight jacket. The government no longer needs to spend any time placating the West by justifying its internal policies; it no longer needs to wriggle around sanctions; it no longer has to worry about 'total onslaught' or to pursue 'destabilisation' policies. The international community no longer regards South Africa as a 'pariah' state, and she is now poised to return as a fully paid up member of international society. The country's imminent return to the General Assembly and the Nobel Peace Prize awarded to President F W de Klerk and Mr Mandela are convincing symbols of South Africa's new respectability, and in the not too distant future a return to the Commonwealth can be predicted. In short, from the perspective of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Pretoria, the world looks much more friendly than it did five years ago.

It is worth adding that, from the Ministry of Defence the view is equally pleasing. South Africa is, of course, as strategically significant as it ever was. It still sits astride a major world waterway - the Cape route - which still carries 60% of Europe's oil and 25% of her food supplies. And it still remains a prime supplier of strategic minerals like chrome and manganese. But there is now no significant external threat to sea lanes, to raw materials or to South African sovereignty. In this respect South Africa's security position has come to resemble that of Western Europe, where, since the ending of the Cold War, NATO forces have had to jettison the mental habits of a lifetime. Inevitably, there has been a bit of a backlash from NATO supporters bent on organisational survival, and we can expect the same sort of scepticism from those sectors of South Africa's Armed Forces anxious to justify their continued existence by identifying 'worst case' threats. Furthermore, if we are honest, we have to admit that in Southern Africa (as in Europe) things could go wrong. All things are possible, and so, for the sake of argument, let us examine two 'worst case' scenarios - one predicated upon the collapse of South Africa's northern neighbours, the other predicated on a united and co-ordinated military attack by them on South Africa.

Political stability among South Africa's neighbours is exceedingly fragile, and no one would dispute the poverty, malnutrition, disease and illiteracy which is endemic in the region. Europeans sometimes need to remind themselves that the combined GNP of the entire continent South of the Sahara is less than that of Holland. Add to this the problems of debt, corruption, mal-administration and underdevelopment and you have a dangerous cocktail which could reduce the whole area to chaos and anarchy. But even if the pessimist's worse fears are realised it is difficult to see how the disintegration of neighbouring states would pose any kind of a serious military threat to the security of the Republic.

In Europe, where pessimists contemplate a similar scenario of disintegration in those states beyond what used to be called the Iron Curtain, defence apologists have resorted to the rather vague idea of 'spillover' to justify the retention of large scale armed forces. They argue that internecine violence and chaos will somehow 'spillover' into Western Europe, embroiling NATO countries in military action. The weakness of their argument is revealed by the difficulty they have in providing politically plausible scenarios for this prediction. And the same point can be made about those who predict violence against South Africa. Of course, the collapse of societies adjacent to South Africa may provoke border incidents and serious refugee problems. Anarchy would certainly damage economic co-operation and development, and there is no doubt that it would cause considerable disquiet in South Africa. No one could feel psychologically comfortable with human misery on an unprecedented scale in areas just beyond their borders. But human misery is not a military problem, and armed forces cannot contribute much towards its solution.

The second 'worse case' scenario, involving a deliberate co-ordinated attack by the armed forces of Angola, Mozambique, Zambia and Zimbabwe seems even more politically implausible. More important, even if this bizarre attack took place, the aggressors would almost certainly be unsuccessful. Using war gaming techniques, at least one analyst has claimed that 'even if South Africa unilaterally reduced its armoured fighting vehicles and close air support by as much as 60% it would still be able to repulse the attack within a forty day period of combat'.

The conclusion to be drawn from this analysis is that South Africa's armed forces (whatever their ultimate size and complexion) should be able to deter any attack and to repel it if deterrence failed. The armed forces of the Republic may have to deal with minor border incidents provoked by insurgents beyond the control of neighbouring governments even though operating from their territory, but it is extremely unlikely that they will be involved in large scale military action against an external aggressor. Indeed, given existing capabilities, the problem, in my judgement, is not one of deterring or defending against possible aggression, but one of reassuring nervous neighbours that South Africa has no hostile intent and that its military forces are defensively orientated. Perhaps the strategies of 'non-provocative defence', which have made such a formidable contribution to security in Europe, may have a role to play here.

The thrust of the argument so far is to suggest that from both a political and military perspective, the external environment is much less threatening to South Africa than at any time in the last forty odd years. A fortuitous combination of circumstances has presented the new government with a unique opportunity to engage in some innovative thinking about its armed forces and its foreign policy.

And that thinking must surely start with an analysis of South Africa's national interests. Now we all know that national interests are subjectively conceived; they reflect the way the government of the day perceives South Africa's role in the world, and for that reason alone it is difficult to predict how a government which is not yet formed will interpret them. Will it see South Africa as a world power or a regional power? Will a future government wish to pursue pro-American and/or pro-European policies, or will it opt for policies of non-alignment? Will it want South Africa to pursue a high-profile, pro-active foreign policy, or will it favour a quiet life on the model of, say, Switzerland? Will the new government wish to emulate Japan by concentrating almost entirely on the pursuit of wealth rather than the influence of political clout? Will it seek a 'virtuous' image for South Africa by participating fully in the United Nations, in its many agencies and in its 'peacekeeping' operations? Will South Africa become an enthusiast for a 'new world order'? Will the new government seek to involve South Africa in new security arrangements, perhaps with SADCC, or will it attempt to steer clear of entangling alliances and firm commitments?

Even though, at this moment of time, these questions cannot be authoritatively answered, their nature provides plenty of clues about where South Africa's national interests lie. We can reasonably predict, for example, that whatever the precise complexion of the new government, it will allocate high priority to economic recovery and growth. At this moment South African business is in poor shape. Apartheid, disinvestment, inflation, political uncertainty, and economic sanctions have all taken a toll on the economy. And present population trends suggest that things are likely to deteriorate further. (It is calculated that the present population of 39 million will hit 45 million by the end of the century and a staggering 100 million by the year 2040.) If these figures are anywhere near right, massive unemployment will be endemic and permanent and on a scale likely to keep South African society on the edge of anarchy.

Even without the problem of an exploding population, the plain truth of the matter is that the rising expectations of a newly enfranchised electorate cannot be satisfied by any redistribution of existing wealth. At best this could only be regarded as a token move towards a fairer society, and at worst it could totally demoralise a class of people whose professional skills are vital to the future of South Africa. What is really needed are policies of wealth-creation followed by tax and welfare arrangements which, without damaging incentives, allow that wealth to permeate through every layer of society. Without sufficient economic growth to sustain a steady improvement in the standard of living of millions of black people the chances of achieving a politically stable society are minimal. If they are to survive, all democratic governments need the tacit support of their citizens; this is likely to be withheld from any government which fails to satisfy the minimum economic demands of its subjects.

South Africa already enjoys the kind of sophisticated financial and industrial infrastructure which gives it a head start in promoting economic growth. It cannot be compared to a Third World country starting from scratch. Its G.D.P. of about 112 billion rands is the equivalent, so we are told, of the total G.D.P. of the forty-four countries to the north of it, including Nigeria and Kenya. It produces 80% of Southern Africa's exports and takes half its imports. Potentially, as so many commentators point out, it is the industrial powerhouse of Africa, and if the Ministry of Foreign Affairs can allay foreign fears about future political instability, it will be a magnet for overseas investment, particularly from companies ever on the look out for a cheap labour market. It is perhaps worth noting that some economists would query this last point. It may, they say, have been true ten or twenty years ago, but today low cost, cheap labour is a much less powerful magnet for outside investors than skilled labour and access to large markets.

It is also worth noting that though South Africa cannot be compared with most Third World countries, it still has a very large desperately poor population. In fact there are two economies in South Africa - a large third world economy mitigated slightly by a small first world economy which is sufficiently prosperous to lift the country's overall status to that of a middle income country. Ironically, in terms of qualifying for aid a downward change of status might be very helpful.

Unfortunately, worries about the ability of the new government to convince foreign investors that all is well in South Africa suggest a 'catch-22' situation. South Africa can only attract capital if it can demonstrate political stability to potential investors; but it can only demonstrate political stability if it can attract enough capital to satisfy at least some of the rising expectations of black people. No one knows whether a sound economy precedes a healthy democracy or vice versa, but everyone is agreed that trying to achieve both at the same time is exceedingly difficult. My guess is that massive investment from the international community via the World Bank will be necessary to start a flow of private capital. Certainly a foreign policy which cultivates the United States, the European Community and the Far East, both as sources of raw materials and capital, and as markets for South African exports, makes good sense, particularly if it is backed by full South African participation in GATT, the World Bank and other international financial institutions. 'Trade' may not have the glamour of 'high politics', but South Africa will not be the first country to give it very high priority.

In terms of 'world politics', no medium sized power like South Africa can afford a global role, and even if it could, it is doubtful whether such a role pays good dividends. Even major powers are finding it increasingly difficult to project their influence over thousands of miles. Arguably, there is something very sad about the spectacle of any power trying, vainly, to 'punch above its weight' in international politics. However, this does not mean that South Africa can afford to ignore the wider issues which trouble the world. To misquote John Donne, these days 'no state is an island ...'. Global issues pertaining to environmental pollution, nuclear proliferation, ozone depletion, etc. affect South Africa no less than the rest of the world. And it is reasonable for South Africans to regard the sensible management of those problems as part of their national interest, and to be willing to devote a certain amount of effort towards collaborating with others to solve them.

Sensitivity to environmental issues and participation in UN agencies and peacekeeping operations are the least that a responsible power can do to make the world a better place. What the international community will expect from South Africa is responsible international involvement commensurate with the power of a middle ranking state anxious to rehabilitate itself in the eyes of the world. It is worth remembering that, in the years ahead, South Africa may still need to work on its image and a caring attitude to world problems is one way of doing that.

Closer to home, pursuit of the national interest will dictate an abiding involvement in regional affairs, particularly those relating to Southern Africa. In much the same way that the United Kingdom now sees itself as a European power with some interests beyond Europe, South Africa will almost certainly see herself as an African power with some interests beyond Africa. In this respect there are some similarities between the current position of South Africa in Africa and the post-war position of West Germany in Europe, Both states have an 'image' problem - one relating to apartheid, the other to the Hitler period. Since the 1950s the fundamental problem of West German foreign policy has been how to translate economic strength into proportional political influence without reviving too many memories and frightening too many neighbours. A similar problem now faces South Africa - how to translate her economic superiority in Southern Africa into political influences in the sub-continent without worrying her neighbours.

My guess is that much of the energy devoted to foreign policy by the new South African government will be concentrated on establishing good relations with neighbouring states and promoting their internal stability and prosperity. In the first instance, this may be done through trade and economic co-operation, but the longer term question of whether South Africa should go along with policies leading to economic integration with SADC countries is more debatable. After all, SADC itself is undergoing something of a revolution. Designed to distance its members from South Africa by reducing their economic dependence on that country, it has now changed the mission of economic cooperation to the more demanding goal of economic integration, and is actively seeking to bring South Africa within its ambit.

By way of preparation, SADC states are busy creating a 'regulatory framework' which they hope will contain South Africa without disturbing the flow of aid from her which they so badly need. Without such a framework, if South Africa simply joined SADC, it might feel more like a take-over than a simple extension of club membership. Given the recent history of estrangement between South Africa and many of its neighbours it is probably inevitable that some of them will be nervous about their relations with a state which, on almost every calculation of power and economic strength, could so easily, if unintentionally, overwhelm them. But whether it is in South Africa's national interest to pander to those fears is a moot point. What is particularly questionable, of course, is the SADC assumption that if South Africa does join it will have money to invest beyond its national borders.

Theoretically, there ought to be advantages in the creation of a regional trade grouping able to compete with other trade blocs in the world, but in practice the political and economic basis for such a grouping may not exist. The disparities of power, values and industrial infrastructure may be too great. That is not to say that closer links may not develop in the long run; only that in terms of current foreign policy it is unlikely to be on the immediate agenda.

If it is true that regional economic integration is on the back-burner, it is even more true that major security collaboration, an area where political sensitivities are even greater, is an even more distant goal. Arguably, in the absence of an outside threat to the region as a whole, a security grouping comparable in scope to anything of that name in Europe looks very unlikely. There is, however, talk of an African 'Helsinki' process which draws upon the experience of the CSCE; but winding down armaments on the European model is not easy to envisage in Southern Africa. One problem is that the reduction of 'offensive' capability - which is at the heart of European disarmament - would be resisted by any country tasked with defending large areas of land with limited resources. For that role armed forces need greater mobility and greater fire power - the key characteristics of offensive capability which neighbours find so worrying. Nevertheless, in seeking to improve relations with its neighbours, there is no reason why South Africa should not encourage the sort of 'confidence building measures' which have done so much to reduce tension in Europe. Transparency, improved military contacts, prior notification of military activity, exchanges of information, crisis management arrangements - all have a role to play in reassuring neighbours about peaceful intentions.

In pursuing its national interest, the new South African government will almost certainly have at its disposal the usual spectrum of foreign policy instruments, including those involving economic pressure, diplomacy, and propaganda. And it is clear that these non-violent techniques of statecraft are the most appropriate tools for pursuing most of South Africa's foreign policy objectives. But the military instrument, sometimes regarded as the instrument of last resort, is never entirely irrelevant. Armed forces play a shadowy role in all foreign policy in the sense that their existence and strength is known both to those who make policy and those who are on the receiving end of it. In that sense, armed forces form the backdrop against which all diplomatic activity takes place, and whether South Africa is negotiating on something important or trivial, its military power colours attitudes even when no explicit reference is made to it. The same point can be made in a slightly different way. If, in an argument between a big man and a small man, the latter conceded the point, the fact that his opponent is bigger than he is may have had something to do with it even though that fact was never mentioned in the argument. Armed forces do not have to be used to be useful as an instrument of foreign policy.

Of course, the relationship between military strength and political influence is not the straightforward proportional one implied by Mao Tse-Tung's famous dictum that 'political power rolls out of the barrel of a gun'. Nevertheless, few would dispute that in general terms there is a relationship between military strength and political power. On the whole, those who wield the most military power tend to be the most influential; their wishes are the most respected; their diplomacy the most heeded. No matter how innocent its foreign policy and no matter how law abiding its citizens, history suggests that no state can survive without some sort of armed forces to bolster its image and provide an ultimate sanction.

Armed forces provide a capability which is used in two distinct environments. First, internally, as an instrument for protecting the state from internal subversion and for promoting national values and unity. Second, externally, as an instrument for pursuing those foreign policy objectives which cannot be pursued via other techniques of statecraft. Given current political uncertainties in South Africa, the relative importance of the internal and external uses of military power is particularly difficult to predict. At the optimistic end of the spectrum of possibilities, one can envisage a situation in which the ongoing transition to democracy is accomplished with minimum violence and maximum goodwill. Equally, however, one can imagine, at the opposite end of the spectrum, a highly unstable political process in which large dissatisfied sections of the population, whose expectations have been unreasonably raised, are bent on violence either to provoke radical change or simply to create mayhem. The first scenario would permit the systematic disengagement of South Africa's armed forces from domestic politics, and that would make life a lot easier for those seeking to de-politicise the armed forces and create a unified army loyal to a new, democratically elected, multi-racial government. The second scenario would require massive counter-insurgency intervention which would almost certainly destroy all possibilities of both integrating and de-politicising the armed forces of South Africa. It is a scenario with horrendous implications.

In an ideal world it would be possible to separate the internal and external roles of military force by confining the former to the police and allowing the army to concentrate on the latter. After all, the 'policing ethos' is quite different from the 'military ethos'. Whatever its theoretical merits, however, this 'solution' runs up against the practical and financial problem of providing the police, or some new internal security arm, with a serious military counter-insurgency capability. And even if it were practical, given the friction in South African society with which it would have to deal, there is no reason to suppose that a multi- racial police or 'peacekeeping' force would be any less susceptible to debilitating tensions than a multi-racial army.

It is impossible to predict the precise mix of 'internal' and 'external' roles for whatever armed forces are at the disposal of the future government; but it seems reasonable to suppose that internal security will loom large in government priorities, and that the use of military power as an instrument of foreign policy will be of secondary importance. It is also reasonable to believe that the new government will want to have available to it sufficiently powerful armed forces to deal effectively with large scale civil unrest and internecine conflict. The new South Africa will almost certainly have among its citizens, a large number of fairly disgruntled ex-soldiers from various official and unofficial armies and para-military organizations. It is too much to hope that this rag-bag of armed forces will disappear, to be painlessly assimilated into civil society. A more likely outcome is that various ill-disciplined para-military groups will continue to ruffle the surface of domestic politics for years to come. In well established stable democracies, government armed forces are virtually invisible, but in a newly created democracy which is as deeply divided and heavily armed as South Africa is likely to be, a more overt military presence may be necessary. The size and visibility of armed forces in the Republic are likely to cause concern both to external observers and to the new government itself.

At the heart of their anxiety lie two central facts. First, that military power is exceedingly expensive, and when there is competition for scarce resources the acquisition and maintenance of large armed forces is often seen as a misallocation of national resources. In South Africa, political pressure on defence expenditure is nothing new. This year (1993-4) the budget has been brought down to 9.3 billion rands - a reduction of 4% on last year's budget. With an inflation rate of about 15%, it is argued that in real terms South Africa's defence budget has been cut by 40% in four years. Domestic pressure on the defence budget is likely to be reinforced by pressure from the World Bank and the IMF. The new government may discover that in welfare oriented democracies defence spending has few friends.

The second worrying fact about military force is that its very existence is an implicit threat both to legitimate government and to the democratic values it is designed to protect. Of the many organs of state power, only the armed forces have the physical capacity to topple governments and to rule in their place. It is not surprising, therefore, that all governments give high priority to the successful management and constitutional control of military power. Some countries, and the United Kingdom is one of them, have, perhaps more by luck than good judgement, solved the problem by creating an ethos in which a military coup is unthinkable, but in many parts of the world armed forces must be seen as latent threats to government as well as obedient servants willing to do whatever their political masters require.

It follows from this that most governments - and the new South African government will be no exception - face a dilemma. While recognising, on the one hand, that armed forces are necessary for their survival and prosperity, they are also aware, on the other hand, of the threat which is implicit in their existence. No doubt the present government of South Africa is giving some thought to this matter in its constitutional discussions with the ANC and other political groups.

The political control of its armed forces is a major problem for any government, but in South Africa the difficulties are compounded by the diversity of political and ethnic groupings from which those forces are drawn. The new government will have to weld into a single loyal army at least half a dozen hitherto hostile guerrilla and para-military forces with no sense of national allegiance, no professional military structures and no democratic traditions. Perhaps the only feeling which these soldiers have in common is a deep suspicion of the South African Defence Force whose white officers will inevitably play a disproportionate role in the new army - at least in the short run.

If viable new defence forces are to emerge a cultural revolution is required. At minimum, the new army must achieve two objectives which, to some extent, may be mutually exclusive. First, its composition must broadly reflect the racial characteristics of South African society at large, and its higher echelons must not be dominated by officers who are too closely associated with the politics of white privilege. Second, it must be professionally effective in terms of the internal and external roles it is called upon to play. If it fails the first test it will never win the confidence of the black majority; if it fails the second, the white population will never trust it to protect their legitimate interests.

Whatever the ultimate size and shape of South Africa's armed forces under the new government, links with the past are unavoidable. (No government starts with a clean slate.) Military equipment is very expensive and cannot be changed in the short run; and the same financial constraints which impinge on the present government will also impinge on the new government. (South Africans will discover that Treasury-led defence policy is not a uniquely British phenomenon). Best estimates suggest a new SADF about 60,000 strong. From an external perspective anything larger may look threatening, but from an internal perspective anything smaller may look inadequate. What is clear is that whatever emerges will have to survive constant rigorous financial scrutiny. The justification for armed forces can no longer be couched in terms of responding to precisely defined threats (other than the internal threat). Henceforth, the armed forces will have to make their case for resources in terms of coping with more diffuse risks in an unpredictable world. It is not an easy case to make given the pressures on public expenditure which the Coalition government is likely to face.

The way in which South Africa handles its military power, both constitutionally and in terms of day-to-day management, has direct foreign policy relevance, and is something which the outside world will watch carefully. Whereas some states are sufficiently powerful to cock a snoot at world opinion South Africa is not, for the simple reason that its future prosperity depends on being given a clean bill of health by the international community. In this respect South Africa is in much the same position as Russia. If Russia is to got even a fraction of the billions of dollars in aid which she needs, Mr Yeltsin has to satisfy the international communality that democracy is basically on course, that human rights are being respected, and that he is neither in thrall to the generals nor unnecessarily heavy handed in the way he uses armed force either for internal or external purposes. Like Yeltsin, Mr Mandela and his Coalition government will be on probation, and it is important that the image which they create is a favourable one. Any sign that, having abandoned apartheid, South Africa is exchanging racial oppression for non-racial oppression will be received very badly by the outside world.

The plain truth is that South Africa cannot survive and prosper without outside help, mainly of an economic nature, to help kick-start the economy. That is a message which foreign policy planners must hammer home on every occasion that presents itself. Arguably, it is here that Britain should have a special role, partly because of the traditional Empire and Commonwealth connection, but also because of her considerable trade and investment links and the fact that more than three quarters of a million people in South Africa are British passport holders. If ever a country had a direct interest in promoting the success of the new South Africa, Britain has. The problem, of course, is that anything more tangible than friendship and advice costs money, and in recession-plagued Britain that is a commodity in very short supply.

Part of the problem in the rest of the world is that, with apartheid out of the way, South Africa is in danger of slipping out of the limelight. Africa as a whole is a backwater in terms of mainstream international politics, and if the new government looks as if it is picking up any bad habits, then the international community will have an additional incentive for forgetting about it and putting its money and assistance elsewhere. Already it is apparent that aid to Africa is falling. This year the World Bank committed 1 billion dollars less than it did last year, and Sweden, usually a generous donor, sliced 6% of its aid budget. The World Bank recently reported that Sub-Saharan Africa is the only area of the world likely to experience an increase in absolute poverty over the next decade. In short, one of the Coalition government's main foreign policy objectives must be to keep its nose clean, and to keep the world interested in South Africa and favourably disposed towards it.

When Mr De Klerk made that famous 'crossing the Rubicon' speech on February 2 1990, he set in motion a process of change which neither he nor anyone else could fully control. It was a bit like stepping on an escalator moving at a rapid but irregular speed towards an unknown destination. Like Mr Gorbachov who sought to reform Communism and ended up abolishing it. President De Klerk may yet find himself pursuing policies which, even a few months ago, he would have refused to contemplate. Most governments manage the process of incremental change fairly painlessly; but revolutionary change on the scale now contemplated in South Africa is a much more demanding business. Right now, in turning itself from an oligarchy to a democracy, South Africa is inventing its future, and the process of doing so is made particularly difficult by an absence of those democratic traditions which in liberal societies set reasonable tacit parameters to political behaviour.

Mr de Klerk will already have discovered that policy making in a period of rapid change is a bit like canoeing on a fast flowing 'white water' river. Like the canoeist he may not have much choice about which direction he travels in; his problem is how to survive the rocks and rapids which loom out of nowhere and which threaten to capsize his canoe. Staying afloat rather than going somewhere in particular is what it comes down to. When I contemplate South African politics, I sometimes feel that the transformation which is sought is so great that Mr De Klerk and Mr Mandela cannot possibly pull it off - not because of any inadequacies on their part, but simply because nobody could pull it off. On other occasions I can persuade myself that they just might get away with it. If they do, the successful management of the armed forces will be a prerequisite for a successful foreign policy; and a successful foreign policy - particularly in terms of attracting overseas investment - will be a prerequisite for a successful South Africa.

Armed Forces and Foreign Policy*

ARMED FORCES AND FOREIGN POLICY