Malawi: Challenge for Father

The small, gnomelike man danced on the floor of the Parliament chamber, fluttering his fly whisk and shouting, "Decision! Decision! Decision!" He was Prime Minister H. Kamuzu Banda, 58, and he was demanding a clear choice by Parliament between him and a band of five rebel Ministers led by the second most popular man in Malawi (formerly Nyasaland), Education Minister Masauko Chipembere, 34. Parliament's members gave Banda a vote of confidence by acclamation.

Hypnotic Image. Instead of curing the crisis, the overwhelming vote deepened it. Malawi's first major crisis, after only nine weeks of independence, has all the bitterness of a family quarrel. The young dissidents had revered Banda as a father and, until now, he had regarded them as dutiful sons. As Hastings Banda, he had spent 32 years in the U.S. and Britain, where he built up a large, and mostly white, medical practice and fought at long range for the freedom of his native land.

When he finally returned home in 1958, the dedicated young nationalists made him a gift of the leadership of the independence movement. They built him up as the Lion of Malawi, Ngwazi (Supreme Chief), and called him Messiah. For his part, Banda dropped the Hastings and became H. Kamuzu Banda, a name more appealing to Africans. But what stunned Banda's ministerial "sons" was the discovery, after independence, that Banda believed his press notices and was hypnotized by his own carefully fabricated image as savior of his people. He took complete charge of the fledgling Cabinet, reserving for himself most of the important portfolios. He called the Ministers "my boys," seldom let them speak up with ideas of their own, and once boasted on the floor of Parliament, "I tell them what to do. I make all the decisions!"

The Malawi crisis dismayed Western observers for, as one diplomat put it, Banda's "are the most realistic, sensible and encouragingly pro-Western policies in Africa today." Banda stood firm against recognizing Red China, even though Peking is reported ready to extend credits of up to $50 million in return for recognition. Another trigger of the revolt was Banda's negotiation of a trade pact with Portugal, whose policies in Angola and Mozambique are anathema to African nationalists.

No Jellyfish. When Parliament adjourned, the rebel Ministers took their case to the people, defying Banda's ban on public meetings. Banda defended himself by charging that the rebels "tried to hire a witch doctor" to murder him. Snorted Banda: "I am a Prime Minister with a spine, not a jellyfish kind of Prime Minister who is afraid of his subordinates — so now they have to kill."

The rebels' revolt struck a sympathetic chord among many Malawans who revere the Lion but wish he would soften his autocratic ways. Nevertheless, bustling little Prime Minister Banda was still hale and hearty last week and so confident of winning that he refused to attend a peace conference with the rebels arranged by the British Governor General.