The life and death of Sir Russell England

SANDY GRANT | Thursday February 25, 2010 00:00

Today, almost nothing is known about him. His entry in the latest edition of the Historical Dictionary of Botswana reads: 'Leading white politician, Lobatse rancher and business man, probably of Polish origins.

He served as Chair of the Joint Advisory Council and European Advisory Council during the 1950s and as a member of the Legislative Council from 1961-64. England played a significant role in reconciling white and African interests during the transition to Independence. He was knighted in 1965. A slightly shadowy figure, he was murdered in 1970 in highly unusual circumstances.' 

These comments may surprise many of those who knew him. I, for instance, still recall him as a large friendly, rather jovial gentleman wearing a hat and smoking a pipe as he stood outside his Gaborone store near the Moth Hall.

Some will remember him as a business man in Lobatse whilst others will be aware of the reputation he achieved as a very effective Director of Agriculture in the pre-2nd World War period.

It was, however, when looking at the National Archive file on the visit of British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan to Francistown in 1960 which really tweaked my interest. Two people that day were delegated to make welcoming speeches, Kgosi Bathoen spoke on behalf of the African population - probably the first time that any local leader had represented what was effectively the entire country - and Russell England for the white community.

He said, 'We today have the great privilege of the presence in our midst of the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom: the acknowledged leader of the Greatest Commonwealth of Nations that the World has ever seen.....Our company is being sought, both north and south, in experiments in political development for which we are not yet ready, and some of which we do not like....We would like you to take home with you the impression that must be obvious to you today.

There is here a good feeling and happy human relationship between the various sectors or of our population, be they African, Asiatic, or European, and all that we desire is to be given time to work out our destiny and not to be asked to join in any political boiling pot, until perhaps we are able to seek amalgamation with one of our neighbours on more equal terms than would be possible today.'

Two years later, when events were fast moving towards self government and Independence, Russell England proposed to Seretse that they become joint leaders of a new political party. Given his undoubted stature in the country and his huge personal experience, the initiative would not then be regarded as surprising as it might seem today.

But when Peter Fawcus, the British Resident Commissioner became aware of it he first advised caution and then suggested to both leaders that initially attractive as the idea might be, it would inevitably complicate Seretse's leadership role in what was a black country. With the offer of a possible sweetener, Russell England backed off. Three years later, he was knighted by the Queen.

And five years after that, he was dead, almost casually murdered as he prepared for bed. Two young men Koos Ockhuizen (20) and Wilson Banda (19), reported as being from Mafikeng but both being well known locally in Lobatse when they were younger, were seen sussing out England's farm during the morning of the February 13.

Later that evening, they broke in, found England in a dressing gown, stabbed him numerous times and without the slightest compunction, left him to die on the floor as he struggled to reach the phone. They then stole clothing including some belonging to Lady England who was absent at the time.

Given today's very different circumstances, the timetable thereafter was astonishing. In no time at all, the two were arrested at the South African border, handed back to the police here, identified and arrested.

In May after a trial in the High Court, Justice Dendy Young pronounced them guilty and condemned them to death. On the July 14, the Appeal Court, comprising Justices Schreiner, Maisels and Milne, found no reasons for setting aside or mitigating that sentence and on the August 8 the two were executed at Gaborone State Prison.

And that seemingly was that.

Only few pre-1966 figures are now remembered but few have disappeared as comprehensively as Russell England. To date, I have been unable to track down a single photo of him or find any kind of memorial or a road or an institution which is named after him.

Lobatse, or more probably perhaps, central government, did well to name its gigantic new mental hospital after Lobatse's own Dr Sbrana but Lobatse can be very perverse. It is constantly bemoaning its decline but makes no attempt to capitalise on its fascinating, varied history or to present itself as a place of real tourist interest.

One of its streets, for instance, is named after Nkrumah whilst another is called Kgama I Ave. although no one is able to describe the connection of either gentleman to Lobatse.  Every town must exploit what it can of its history and for many years, Russell England was Lobatse. His old store has gone and now his home has gone too - to make way for the new stadium. Maybe someone should quickly suggest that the stadium should be named after Sir Russell England and not after Khama II, whose principal claim to fame further north can only be that he was the father of Khama III.  But haste is needed before someone remembers that he (Khama III)  once passed through Lobatse by train on his way to Cape Town!