The first intimation that I might be asked to go to Ghana as Governor General came in a 6d Air Letter hand-written by Kwame Nkrumah from the Prime Minister's Office in the CastleFootnote ⁵²⁸ at Accra, and dated May 5th, 1957. There was something rather pleasantly informal about the use of the cheap Air Mail service for such an important communication. The letter, in green ink, read as follows:

The qualifications for which I had been selected for the post of Governor-General were unusual, at that time I should imagine unique. It would surprise me if any of my predecessors had been chosen as an active socialist, who had contributed to the work of the Fabian Colonial Bureau – I should add not in the distinguished capacity attributed to me by Nkrumah. Indeed, I may have been the first member of the Labour Party to represent Her Majesty in this distinguished capacity. My other alleged qualification was also unusual. This was that I had shown myself in the House, and as a Minister, a firm supporter of what he described as ‘the cause of colonial freedom’, in other words the rapid progress towards the break up of the British Empire. Anyway, whatever credentials I was thought to have were certainly ideological and not personal. For I can only remember meeting Nkrumah once, on a visit to London when he had been entertained by my Labour colleagues in the House as the Leader of the Convention Peoples Party. So why on earth did it occur to him to ask me?

My name had not even been suggested to Nkrumah by the British Government, although, at an earlier stage, British ministerial assistance had been offered in the search for a suitable candidate. I was informed that a Conservative Peer, Lord Rennell of Rodd,Footnote ⁵³⁰ had been invited to attend the Ghana Independence celebrations in March 1957, at the suggestion of a Cabinet Minister, Mr R.A. Butler, in order that he might make the acquaintance of Ministers in the Ghana Government. It was of course perfectly natural that a Conservative Government should put forward a member of their own Party with a successful record in the City and no connection with Party politics. But it did not turn out that this was the sort of person for which Nkrumah was seeking. He did however write to Mr MacMillan to thank him warmly for his efforts.

I strongly suspect, though I have no direct evidence, that my name was suggested to him by his constitutional adviser, Geoffrey Bing.Footnote ⁵³¹ I had known Geoffrey for many years as a left-wing Labour M.P., said by some to be ‘a fellow traveller’, though I have no evidence to support this allegation. His good qualities were often underestimated. He certainly upheld the rule of law in Ghana, and kept Nkrumah on the path of constitutional propriety. He and his wife, Teddy, loved Ghana, and because they had no children of their own, adopted and educated a Ghanaian child, who later graduated in medicine and became a doctor. Nkrumah had a lot of advisers, but he listened more to Geoffrey than the others. His influence at this time has been underrated and it was used for the good of Ghana.

My first reaction was to consult my friends in the Labour Party. For acceptance would mean giving up Party politics at a time when the Opposition in the House of Lords was still limited to a very small band of hereditary Peers, and I was their Front Bench spokesman for Commonwealth and Colonial Affairs and also their elected representative in the Labour Shadow Cabinet. Albert Alexander, who had succeeded Addison as my leader in the Lords,Footnote ⁵³² had no doubt that I should accept. Clem Attlee, also in the Lords by that time, took the same view. They both said that they regarded this offer as a means of giving important service to a Commonwealth country, and my experience there would be a valuable asset when I returned to politics at home. My mother was willing to pull up her roots in London, at any rate temporarily, to help me with the hospitality I would be expected to dispense. My colleagues’ advice, and the prospect of more exciting and possibly more constructive work than I was doing here, convinced me that I should accept. I even had illusions from the distance of London about fostering a new African democracy.

As soon as Nkrumah had received my letter of acceptance, he put the official machinery in action. This meant submitting my name to the Queen for her approval, and informing the United Kingdom High Commissioner in Accra that he had done so. He himself was due in London for a Prime Ministers Conference in June and, as soon as he arrived, the Queen's secretary, Sir Michael AdeaneFootnote ⁵³³ now Lord Adeane, rang him up to say that the Queen had approved my appointment. He also wrote to me to inform me that Nkrumah had been told of the Queen's consent, and that an official announcement to the Press would be made from the Palace on 23rd June.

I would like to put on record the way in which the Governor-General of a Commonwealth country is appointed, because it is still so often misunderstood. It was astonishing that The Times newspaper congratulated the British Government on the suitability of their choice. What The Times had evidently forgotten was that such appointments are always made on the advice of Her Majesty's Prime Minister in the Commonwealth country concerned, and not on the advice of the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. The important question of who should advise the Crown was decided as long ago as the Imperial Conference in 1930.Footnote ⁵³⁴ The matter had arisen at that time from the determination of Mr Scullin,Footnote ⁵³⁵ the Prime Minister of Australia, to appoint for the first time in Australian history a native born Australian, Sir Isaac Isaacs, to succeed Lord StonehavenFootnote ⁵³⁶ as Governor-General when he retired in 1930. King George V was not altogether convinced that this Australian could hold such a post without involvement in local political controversy. When Lord Passfield, then the Secretary of State for the Dominions and Colonies, was told of this impasse, he was alarmed at the prospect of the King being dragged into Australian politics, so he decided to put the question as to who should tender advice on the agenda of the next Imperial Conference. The Conference resolved that in making the appointment of Governor-General the King ‘should act on the advice of His Majesty's Ministers in the Dominions concerned’. This wise decision has ever since preserved both the complete autonomy of Commonwealth countries in relation to the United Kingdom, and the principle that the Crown is above politics and must always therefore act on advice.

I met Nkrumah when he came to London in June for the Commonwealth Prime Ministers conference, and he discussed in a most friendly way the practical problem of where I should live in Ghana. Christiansborg Castle in Accra had been the home of my predecessor, Sir Charles Arden-Clarke, and of the British Governors of the Gold Coast ever since Cape Coast had ceased to be the capital. Because the rulers of the country had lived there for so long the Castle had become the symbol of authority in Ghana. Nkrumah had therefore rightly taken it over as the headquarters of his Government as soon as he was released from prison (together with other leading members of the Conventions People's Party [CPP]) and made Prime Minister by the Governor. Nkrumah himself preferred to live in a bungalow attached to the wing of the new State House. He explained that he had found it very unpleasant to be so close to the sea as his books were sprayed with sea salt.

The non-availability of the castle meant that a new house would have to be built for the Governor-General, and that temporary accommodation would have to be found pending its completion. I hated the idea of a poor country spending a lot of money on a grand house, but I realised that the Ghana Government would insist that the prestige of the country depended on a suitable residence for the Sovereign's representative. It was eventually decided that I should live for the time being at Flagstaff House, then occupied by General Packard,Footnote ⁵³⁷ the Commander-in-Chief, West African Forces, while the State House was being completed by the addition of residential accommodation and offices as a permanent residence for me in Accra. I had strongly protested when it was suggested that I should be temporarily ‘rusticated’ by staying at Government Lodge at Cape Coast, which was 90 miles from the Capital, while the work on the State House was going on.

Nkrumah then generously offered to give me the Lodge at Cape Coast as a weekend house by the sea while my office and official home would be in Accra.Footnote ⁵³⁸ I accepted this offer, and it was confirmed by a Government statement to the Press and a radio announcement in Accra on September the 26th, 1957. The announcement read as follows:

When I arrived in Ghana I immediately realised how quickly the scene changes. For Nkrumah had already re-allocated my ‘country residence’. Government Lodge at Cape Coast was already occupied by a Mr Hagan,Footnote ⁵³⁹ the newly appointed Commissioner for the Western Region of Ghana. I did not of course complain or even mention the matter to Nkrumah, as it would have been an embarrassment to me to occupy two large houses, one of which I would have seldom used and would therefore have remained empty most of the time. My only regret was that the old Government Lodge at Cape Coast had an unusually lovely garden with a great variety of hibiscus and bougainvillaea and a superb view over the sea.

I heard from Nkrumah at the beginning of July that everything could be ready for me by the end of November. It was therefore something of a shock when on returning to London from a holiday towards the end of August, I received a strange and somewhat disturbing letter from Nkrumah written at the end of July. It called for a complete change of plan. The letter was this time in typescript, and asked me to come to Ghana ‘early in October’. At this point there was a marginal entry in green ink as follows: ‘But if you could possibly come in September it would be a great help to me’. Something had evidently gone wrong.

The reasons given by Nkrumah in his letter were that the public ‘was anxiously waiting for my arrival’ and that the judiciary had become disorganised because the Chief Justice who was acting as Governor-General was unable to perform satisfactorily both his judicial and his administrative duties. I understood Nkrumah's reasons better when I arrived in Accra and learned of events in July. When Nkrumah had disembarked at Takoradi on July 22nd, returning from his visit to London for the Prime Ministers Conference, he found that much of his popularity had suddenly evaporated. In Accra a new party opposed to the CPP had been formed by the Ga, the leading tribe in Accra, and the price of basic foods such as yams and plantains had rocketed. There had been angry shouts and jeers from the ‘Tokyo Joes’, as the rowdies were called, on his drive through Accra to the Castle. Ever sensitive to the reactions of the public, my presence was needed to divert attention from the political Opposition and economic grievances that threatened to erode his popularity.

I replied that while I was most anxious to help him by coming out earlier than he had asked me to do, I was not willing to live outside Accra, and I could not therefore arrive earlier than at a time when Flagstaff House would be ready for me: I understood by the middle of October. But by the time Nkrumah received my letter at the end of August he seemed to have recovered his nerve. He had appointed his strong man Krobo Edusie [sic]Footnote ⁵⁴⁰ as Minister of the Interior, and he had already decided on a number of measures to curb his opponents. I heard from him at the beginning of September to say that he had not wished to hurry the Packards or the Public Works Department, and it would be alright for me after all to come out in November, in time for the opening of the Legislative Assembly on 12th November.

I spent my last weeks in London seeking advice from those who [sic] with long experience of Ghana. I am truly grateful for the advice I received from all quarters – businessmen, politicians, officials, academics – and other people who had lived in the country. Having spent my life in party politics, I suppose it was natural that the advice most commonly offered was the need for political impartiality and detachment. This was perhaps excessively underlined in a ridiculous note I had received from an official in the Dominions Office:

Who could quarrel with these words of pompous official wisdom emanating from an office in Whitehall, and directed clearly at my record as a party politician in the Lords. What the note certainly lacked was the slightest understanding of Nkrumah's personality, or the virtually one party system of Government that was already developing in Ghana.

But to one of my mentors I owe an incalculable debt for his patience and wisdom. This was Sir Charles Arden-Clarke, who had returned from Ghana in May after serving for three months as Governor-General, following several years as Governor of the colony. His home was not far from my mother's house in Suffolk, and he came over for long talks at weekends in the summer. I had met him first in Sarawak when he was Governor there, and I stayed at his house in Kuching on a visit to South East Asia while I was a Minister at the Colonial Office, so that I knew him already as an old friend. In Sarawak he was beloved by everyone, Malays and Dayaks alike. This capacity for friendship had made him equally popular in Ghana. He was the first British official to recognise the National Movement in Ghana to be represented by the CPP under the leadership of Nkrumah, whom he released from prison to make Prime Minister and Chairman of the Cabinet. He was I think the finest all-rounder of the many able Colonial Service Officers I had met on my travels, combining administrative talent of the highest order and sound political judgment with lightness of touch and a genius for personal relationships. I have always regretted that on his retirement he was not given a seat in the Lords, where his advice on the winding up of our Colonial Empire would have been immensely valuable. I can not help thinking that his many tiffs with Whitehall may have cost him the recognition due to one of our greatest public servants.

Another wise mentor I should certainly mention with special gratitude was Sir Robert Jackson.Footnote ⁵⁴¹ He was an old friend of Nkrumah, whose advice about the Volta Project had been particularly valuable, and which he was largely responsible for bringing to a successful conclusion. He seemed to be in constant motion, so much were his views in demand throughout the Commonwealth, and it was always difficult to pin him down. His delightful wife, the author and economist Barbara Ward,Footnote ⁵⁴² was an authority on Ghana as she had also lived there for some years. They were both indefatigable and highly skilled conversationalists, and I regretted that, as I did not meet them together, I never found out which was the more voluble, or which would give way first to the other. The administrative arrangements for my departure to Ghana were superbly negotiated by Sir Gilbert Laithwaite, the Permanent Under-Secretary at the Commonwealth Relations Office, who had been Private Secretary to Lord Linlithgow when he was Viceroy of India. Some people even referred to the ‘Linlaithwaite’ Viceroyalty.

I still dreaded finding myself without the invaluable civil servant advisers I had had during my whole ministerial career in Whitehall. I would obviously have to depend for advice on my Ghanaian Secretary, who would be looking over his shoulder at his own civil service career and his political masters. It turned out that my Ghanaian secretary, Michael Dei-Anang,Footnote ⁵⁴³ who was a delightful person and became a life-long friend, was required (as I had expected) to pass on information about me to Nkrumah. For the first time therefore I had to form my political judgments entirely alone, the greatest challenge I had ever experienced.

Only a few details now remained to be settled before I left London. I do not as a rule think a great deal about my own clothes, but it was important that the Governor-General of a new country, that had so recently put an end to its colonial status, should not appear in clothes that symbolised the colonial past. I was therefore relieved when the Lord Chamberlain allowed me to acquire what was known as the ‘new style’ Governor-General's uniform, which was in blue serge with a military peaked cap in place of the old style white uniform of a Colonial Governor with a plumed helmet. I had to put up with the fact that the new style uniform was painfully hot to wear in the tropics, not being available in anything but English winter weight, which of course had been entirely suitable for the Governor-General of Canada.

The prospect of my first experience of wearing my uncomfortable uniform as I descended onto the tarmac at Accra Airport did not appeal. For a Commonwealth Relations Official had drawn my attention to a photograph in The Times of Lord DalhousieFootnote ⁵⁴⁴ descending, complete with his plumed helmet, from an aircraft at Salisbury Airport, where he had just gone out as Governor-General of the Central African Federation. With their usual thoroughness and attention to detail they pointed out that a gentlemen's lavatory on the Strato-cruiser would be large enough for me to change my clothes in. So I was immensely relieved when I received a letter, just before starting, from the Chief Justice, Sir Arku Korsah,Footnote ⁵⁴⁵ who was acting as Governor-General until I came out, and did so again with much success whenever I was away on leave, to tell me that Ministers and other distinguished Ghanaians who intended to meet me at the Airport would be wearing lounge suits. This was the first of many kindnesses for which I have to thank Sir Arku. In fact as I was not even wearing a hat when I arrived: I noticed the furtive disappearance of several trilbies behind the backs of their owners. Nkrumah was among those who greeted me on my arrival, and I was quickly whisked away to my new home to prepare for an evening talk with him.

The evening meal with Nkrumah on the day of my arrival revealed the two matters mainly on his mind. The first and foremost was the Queen's visit to Ghana. Could she come in August, the coldest month in the year, when she would find the climate more like her own country's? But, of course, he would welcome her whenever it suited her to leave the UK for a brief visit to Ghana. I undertook to convey his invitation in my next letter to her secretary, Lord Adeane.

The other matter of immediate concern to him was his relationship with the Paramount Chiefs. The gist of what he said was that the policy of the Government was to respect their traditional functions, provided that they did not ‘interfere in politics’. But unfortunately some of the Chiefs were engaging in active politics. This was as I soon realised, something of an understatement considering their mutual hostility. He told me that he wanted me to meet them and ‘to say things to them I cannot say’. He expected them to listen to me because of my constitutional position, which was one which to some degree they also shared. I, as Governor-General, was a symbol of the nation. They, as Paramount Chiefs, were symbols of their tribe, and in both cases there was status but without authority. This status could only be successfully sustained by the strictest political neutrality. It struck me at the time as interesting that the similarity of status between the Chiefs and Governors was recognised during the time when Ghana was a British Colony. It was implicit in the mode of address between Chiefs and Colonial Governors. You began a letter to a Chief with the words ‘My good Friend’, and ended with the words ‘Your good Friend’, and the Chief to whom you had written would reciprocate.

I made a point of getting around the whole country every year, so I visited annually each of the five Regions. On every occasion I was invited to meet the Paramount Chiefs of the Region, who greatly enjoyed the traditional greeting of a ceremonial welcome known as a ‘Durbar’. Quite a long time after my first talk with Nkrumah about the Chiefs, I heard from my Secretary, Michael Dei Anang, that the Cabinet had decided that in future there were to be no more Durbars for visits from the Governor-General. It was Nkrumah's habit when he had anything controversial to convey to me to tell my private secretary to pass on his view. I realised immediately that this would be an unpopular decision because it would deprive the Chiefs of a traditional demonstration of their own status among their people and of their loyalty to the Crown. But of course I replied that I would be careful for my part to observe the ‘no Durbar’ policy.

So on my next visit to the Regions I was amused to find that the Chiefs had discovered a way of getting around this difficulty. They did so by continuing the traditional ceremony not as an official occasion with the official title, but simply as a private welcome to a distinguished visitor. They appeared just as before in full regalia sitting under their state umbrellas, surrounded by their sword bearers, drummers, and dancers. I felt that I was doing my bit to make my visit an unofficial occasion by not wearing uniform. However, as I had invested in a grey top hat and grey suit for the races at Accra, which I had been obliged to attend in order to present a cup to the winners, this Ascot outfit, which had never been seen outside the capital, enabled me to turn up in an attire which was extremely gratifying to my hosts because befitting the dignity and courtesy that they had expected. I have mentioned my attendance at the Accra Races as one of my official duties. It was fortunate for the bookies that I was not a betting man, as the winner was always known to a select few who had been told which jockey had no large stones in his pockets.

The authority of the Chiefs was now limited to matters of customary law, including of course family relationships, and religion, though their influence on their own people was very considerable. The traditional system of African chieftaincy was one that I thought a lesson for the present day, as it had a secure foundation in the consent of the tribe. A Paramount Chief was not an autocrat as British Governors had been, but resembled much more closely a constitutional monarch, being obliged to act in accordance with the advice of the Elders of his Council, and liable to be deposed or ‘de-stooled’Footnote ⁵⁴⁶ if he failed to carry out his constitutional duties. The members of his Council consulted the village Elders, and the village Elders had their ears close to the ground and knew what their people wanted. With this firm foundation in public opinion African traditional rule in Ghana had been more genuinely democratic than British colonial

But, on the other hand, it was entirely different from Parliamentary democracy in the sense that we understand it. The essence of our system is we can change our Government, and therefore change or even reverse the policy it is pursuing, without bloodshed or violence, by the simple process of persuading our fellow citizens to put their vote in the ballot box. But once a Chief, after fullest consultation with his Council, had arrived at a decision, any further argument or opposition became treasonable. That is why in Africa you can never have a ‘loyal opposition’. It follows from this that when the multi-party system of Parliamentary Government has been tried out in Africa, it has almost always become one-party rule. Another interesting and useful aspect of tribal society was absence of private ownership of land. The land was owned by the tribe and allocated to farmers by the Chief, but they had reasonable security of tenure and could pass on their farms to their children.

Most important of all the Chiefs in Ghana was the Asantahene, the King of the Ashantis. They had been essentially a warrior people, and had dominated the Fantis in the South until we finally defeated them in 1900 after several Ashanti wars. At one time we had banished their King,Footnote ⁵⁴⁷ deporting him to the Seychelles, and had also tried to take away their ‘Golden Stool’, the traditional symbol of the Ashanti Kingdom. But when I arrived in Ghana the position of the Asantahene and his Chiefs had been restored, though they had never come to terms with the nationalist movement, which was essentially a movement of the common man, emanating from Nkrumah's Government in Accra. In the 1956 General Election their representatives had formed an opposition party, the National Liberation Movement, which challenged the Convention Peoples Party. Nkrumah told me that he was in danger of being stoned in the streets if he visited their capital in Kumasi. Indeed, when Arden-Clarke last went there as Governor he was booed by the crowds and his car was stolen. Nkrumah's policy of uniting all the Regions of Ghana under the control of the central Government had deprived them of the autonomy they had hoped to retain under the federal constitution which they had wanted and we had hoped for.

I decided that one of my first duties would be to pay my respects to the Asantahene, and to do my best to build a bridge between the Ashantis and the Southerners. I was received in Kumasi with the utmost courtesy, invited to stay at the Palace, and presented with an Ashanti ‘stool’ – the symbol of chieftainship – and a splendid Kente cloth from the foremost weaver in the country. The Asantahene himself was something of a royal recluse simply attending to his official functions, and he had not been abroad or even visited Accra. So it occurred to me that a good and entirely non-political way of returning his hospitality would be to invite him to stay with me at Accra for the annual Race Meeting. This turned out to be a huge success, as there were a number of Ashantis at the racecourse, and there was a tremendous cheer when he was recognised. It was just the right ambience for him to meet Nkrumah and Government Ministers, as well as the social and plutocratic elite of Accra. This introduction lead to a relatively harmonious relationship developing between the Ashanti and the coastal peoples which I regard as one of my most useful achievements whilst I was in Ghana.

The system of succession in Ashanti was that, while the successor was always in the same family, the actual successor was not the son, but a nephew of the Asantahene. He was chosen, not by the Asantahene, but by the tribal elders. His charming successor a much younger man, I used to meet later in London during his annual visit for Ascot and the London Summer Season.

I had hoped on my arrival that I would see Nkrumah regularly every week to keep in touch with the affairs of the country, but this hope was soon disappointed. At first I lured him by inviting him for tea and a game of tennis. He adored lawn tennis, but was one of the worst players I have ever known. I had the greatest difficulty in losing every match, but he was desperately anxious to win. I soon discovered that if he had heard that I or my ADC had a cold he would not come near my house. I had the misfortune to contract a long bout of jaundice soon after my arrival in November 1957, and this kept Nkrumah away for several months. He had a chronic fear of infection and was constantly worrying about his health. He never travelled without a doctor, and he also consulted the traditional African herbal or ‘witch’ doctors. Much of his conduct, not only his valetudinarianism, is explained by fear. This is an emotion more easily understood in Africa than in an European environment where, apart from war, most of our natural stimuli of fear have been removed. Long before the first attempt on Nkrumah's life, which did not occur until after I had left Ghana, he would stay for long periods without emerging from his home in Flagstaff House.

His seclusion began after the so-called Amponsah-Apaloo conspiracy in 1958,Footnote ⁵⁴⁸ and therefore as my political concerns grew my ability to get hold of Nkrumah lessened. My political worries began when one morning early in January 1958 the Chief Justice, Mr Van Leer,Footnote ⁵⁴⁹ came into my office to explain the circumstances of a case in which a magistrate had convicted a Cabinet Minister, Mr Krobo Edusei, and the Chief of Police, Mr Madjety [sic],Footnote ⁵⁵⁰ of contempt of court. The reason for the judgment was that, in spite of a Writ of Habeas Corpus, two men had been deported, thus removing them from the jurisdiction of the Court. He, Mr Van Leer, had been invited to attend a Cabinet meeting the previous day where he explained that the verdict was correct in law, and there was no right of appeal. He had added that though the magistrate insisted that the contempt should be ‘purged’, he would be entirely satisfied by an apology from both Defendants. But the Government, instead of accepting this mild compromise, was determined to override the sentence of the Court. A Bill had been passed through Parliament that very morning exempting the Minister and the Police from any sentence or penalty the magistrate might impose.

When I reported this blatant interference with the course of Justice in my fortnightly letter to Lord Adeane, the Queen's Secretary, it elicited in reply a letter showing little awareness of the authoritarian trend in Ghana. The letter referred to the recent arrests of Amposah and Apaloo, both Members of Parliament under the Preventive Detention Act, as well as to the contempt of court case. I quote the last paragraph:

These fortnightly letters and replies were not copied to the British Government as my official relationship was with the Queen and throughout my time in Ghana I dealt exclusively with the Palace.

As Nkrumah was away, I immediately summoned his senior Minsters, Mr BotsioFootnote ⁵⁵¹ and Mr Gbedemah,Footnote ⁵⁵² to tell them exactly what I thought, and to warn them that if there had been a breach of the constitution I would have resigned. When I reported the matter to Nkrumah on his return from India, he expressed concern about my concern, but otherwise seemed to dismiss the matter as a storm in a teacup. I told him I could not agree with his view and, at a later stage, emphasised the need to maintain the independence of the judiciary by safeguards in the new Constitution.

It transpired much later, after an enquiry by a distinguished British Q.C., Mr Granville Sharpe [sic],Footnote ⁵⁵³ that the unfortunate Members of Parliament were entirely innocent. I think it was fear rather than any rational view of his security that started him on the road to preventive detention, and this also, because he was not a deliberately cruel man, enabled him to justify the hardship and suffering he inflicted on many of his political opponents and their families.

Soon after I arrived in Ghana I heard from the Commonwealth Office that they were considering a suitable honour for Nkrumah, and that they would like to make a recommendation to the Prime Minister. The honour that they had in mind was that of Companion of Honour. I replied that I thought that this honour would not really appeal to him, as it had only been added recently to our Honours System by Winston Churchill, and had not even the traditional dignity of the Orders of Knighthood.Footnote ⁵⁵⁴ I therefore suggested instead, knowing his veneration for the Queen, that a distinction involving a personal relationship with the Monarch, such as a Privy Counsellorship, would really please him immensely. It turned out that the offer of this honour, when followed by the invitation to Balmoral, were the two events which had given Nkrumah most satisfaction during my time in Ghana.Footnote ⁵⁵⁵

Thanks to Nkrumah's respect for the Queen, I knew Nkrumah would take seriously my only weapon as a constitutional Governor-General and Commander in Chief. The threat of resignation. In this respect I was in a stronger bargaining position that the Monarch, who could never resign from the office of Sovereign and could hardly use the threat of abdication. It was most unlikely that Nkrumah would do anything that might be construed as disrespect for her representative. Indeed, I was increasingly conscious of the fact that my presence in Ghana was doing a valuable service by delaying for three years his transition from Prime Minister to Head of State and Commander of the Armed Forces. My apprehensions about the future, after my departure, were borne out by events. For Nkrumah then immediately despatched a large contingent from the Ghana army to support the African forces in the Belgian Congo actively engaged in a war with the Colonial Power, and dismissed the Chief Justice for acquitting his alleged would-be assassins.

I remember one evening, after a game of tennis, being told by Nkrumah that after reading how Lenin had started to construct an electrical power supply throughout Russia immediately after the 1917 revolution, and while that country was still ravaged by famine, he had decided that Ghana must be immediately industrialised to bring about in his country the higher living standards and all the other benefits of the industrial revolution in Europe. But of course he had ignored the fact that Russia already had a 19th century industrial background, and that some of the infrastructure and technical know-how had survived the devastation of the European war and the civil war that followed it. This mistake in priority for manufacturing industry in an agricultural country resulted in a wasteful and uneconomic use of the large cocoa reserves, and was disastrous for the whole Ghana economy. The reserves built up under the colonial administration were quickly used up, and the burden of foreign debt still carried by the Ghana Government started to accumulate. Prestige expenditure, such as sending diplomatic missions to South America and other parts of the world to countries with which Ghana had little or no connection, added further to the growing public debt.

Although Nkrumah always declared himself to be a socialist, his idea of socialism had little to do either with social democratic principles of common ownership of capital, or with the revolutionary doctrine of Karl Marx and the Communist Party. What he had in mind was what is often called state socialism, and this consisted simply of a transfer of industry and capital investment from private to state ownership. This was in fact a straight forward expression of African nationalism, because, as there was almost no African middle-class in Ghana, it meant replacing the European or Lebanese entrepreneurs and shareholders by an indigenous bureaucracy. But there was nothing in this policy to bring about greater equality in the ownership or the distribution of wealth, and it simply entailed a transfer of capital from existing owners, mainly expatriates, to the Government of Ghana.

Professor Arthur Lewis,Footnote ⁵⁵⁶ at that time economic advisor to the Ghana Government, came to see me on 24th December, 1958 to explain why he had resigned to take up his new post as Deputy Director of the Special Fund at the United Nations. He had differed with Nkrumah he said over economic policy. The immediate reason for the Professor's resignation was an increase of 50% in the Five Year Development Plan, most of which would be spent on prestige projects in Accra. He showed me Nkrumah's letter accepting his resignation. The letter did not contest the soundness of the economic advice he had received but went on to say: ‘I am a politician and must gamble with the future.’ My heart sank because he had lost the one man who could have saved Ghana from the crushing burden of debt caused by his impulsive extravagance. I note that the last words in my diary for 1958 were ‘end of a miserable year: country heading for bankruptcy and autocracy’. It took me only a year to see the direction in which Ghana was drifting.

Nkrumah failed to understand that economics were more important to the welfare of the people of Ghana than politics. His favourite motto was ‘seek ye first the political kingdom’.Footnote ⁵⁵⁷ For example, it was a serious mistake when the central Government reduced the subsidy and the cost of anti-capsid spray, which greatly handicapped the cocoa farmers.

Nkrumah did however have the imaginative vision of the statesman to conceive bold and original policies, and the determination to carry them out against heavy odds, although unfortunately at times this was not tempered by realism. This gift of imaginative leadership gave him an important place in African history as well as that of his own country. He will be remembered as a leading figure during the period of emancipation from colonial rule in Africa, and as the father of the new nation of Ghana. He used to say that the achievement of independence for his own country would be fragmentary and incomplete so long as one square inch of African soil remained unfree. That was why he called the first Pan-African Conference, the all-African Peoples Conference in Accra in 1958, to which the leaders of all the national movements in the different colonial or ex-colonial territories in Africa were invited.

National freedom was to be only the first step towards African unity. However, Nkrumah's fellow African leaders did not at all approve of his idea of uniting the continent behind, still less under, the Ghana leader. When Nkrumah insisted that political unity with a resulting pooling of sovereignty must precede economic unity, it seemed to many that this insistence on overriding national sovereignty would be merely divisive, because at this point it became even harder to get agreement between African Governments. Nonetheless, his vision of a United States of Africa contributed to the far less ambitious remit of trade and economic cooperation given to the Organization for African Unity [OAU]. It may be said that he founded the OAU, a disappointment to him but an invaluable organ for economic cooperation between African countries.

Unfortunately, the practical effect of Nkrumah's African policy was that Ghana was obliged to play a part in Africa far-exceeding its size and financial resources. Large sums of money were dissipated on funds for freedom fighters in other African countries, and a fabulous Palace known as Job 99 was built on the site of my poor little State House as a meeting place for the Heads of African States. Nkrumah himself spent more and more time touring the world in his capacity as an African and world statesman, and it was hardly surprising that many Ghanaians began to feel that he should put Ghana first. He antagonised most of his neighbours by using his freedom fighters as agents directed against any African leader with whose policy he disagreed, and there was widespread complaint about his interference in the internal affairs of neighbouring countries.

The direct effect on me resulting from his meddling in his neighbours’ affairs was that I was never allowed to visit either Togoland or the Ivory Coast, as Nkrumah detested OlympioFootnote ⁵⁵⁸ and Houphouet-BoignyFootnote ⁵⁵⁹ with equal intensity. Indeed, he went so far as to finance the reunion of the Sanwys, whose tribe was divided by the territorial boundary between Ghana and the Ivory Coast, and he greatly encouraged the Ghanaian Ewes to agitate for a union between Togo and Ghana.

His feeling for Africa was not in the least racist, and the Commonwealth appealed to him because it cut across racial boundaries and contained an even wider cross-section of mankind than the African continent. He regularly attended the conference of Commonwealth Prime Ministers in London, and it was he who first put forward the idea of a Commonwealth Secretariat, now at Marlborough House, London, which has been the most successful addition to the machinery of Commonwealth co-operation since the war. I was surprised when he told me after his return from a Prime Ministers conference in London, that the Prime Minister he liked best of those he met was Menzies of Australia. I thought he would have had much more in common with Nehru, because Nehru after all, was like him, a socialist and a republican, and it was in fact the example of India that encouraged Nkrumah to adopt the policy of making Ghana a Republican country within the Commonwealth. But Nehru unfortunately had also expressed strong disapproval when Nkrumah told him about his statue in Accra. Nehru had explained that he would not allow any statue of himself during his own lifetime to be put up in India, and I think also suggested that it was undesirable for Prime Ministers to have their heads on postage stamps. He had no use for a ‘personality cult’.

The Greeks used to talk about the tragic flaw that doomed the tragic hero to his fate This, alas, became more and more apparent in the corrupting influence of power on Nkrumah's career as a statesman of African and world renown. Perhaps his finest hour was when as a former ‘prison graduate’ he led his country from colonial rule to independence in 1957.

Although Nkrumah had not told me himself, I was told by those who knew him well, Robert Jackson among others, that my term of office was intended to bridge for about three years the transition from Monarchy to a Republic within the Commonwealth. Ghana would thus become the first African country to follow in the footsteps of India, which had pioneered the difficult path of Republican independence without loss of Commonwealth membership. The example set by the Ghanaian Government was to be of special importance to British Africa, as it was followed by most of our other dependencies when they reached the final stage of sovereign Independence.

This constitutional change was not sought because Nkrumah, or indeed, anyone else in the Government of Ghana, entertained a theoretical preference for a Republic, or felt less than the highest regard for the British Monarchy. In fact, the traditional institution of Chieftainship in Ghana, whereby a paramount chief always acted on the advice of his elders, and was careful not to meddle in party politics, was very similar to the British system of constitutional monarchy. But the Crown was still associated in many minds with colonial rule, and it was essential for Ghana to acquire the appearance as well as the substance of full nationhood. This was brought home to me in a vivid way in 1958, the second Christmas after my arrival in Accra. Just before Christmas, I received a card of good wishes from a Chief living in the depths of the Bush congratulating me warmly on my successful administration of the country! I was careful not to tell this story to Nkrumah, as I was afraid that the Chief might get into trouble. But it does illustrate what many simple, unsophisticated people would, no doubt, continue to believe as long as the laws of the country were made, and justice dispensed, in the Queen's name.

Nkrumah's personal attitude to the Queen was little short of idolatry. As mentioned, he wished her to come to Ghana, ideally while she was still Queen of Ghana, and therefore, Head of State. But, of course, this was not to be. When it became clear to the Palace that the Queen was expecting another baby, and that she would be unable therefore to travel to Africa in 1959, the question arose as to how the bad news should be broken to Nkrumah. It was decided to soften the blow of cancelling the visit by sending an emissary to break the news personally to Nkrumah.

Martin Charteris (now Lord Charteris of Amisfield),Footnote ⁵⁶⁰ at that time Assistant Secretary at the Palace, was sent to Accra in an aircraft of the Queen's Flight, and I asked Nkrumah to meet him at my house, where he would be staying. Nkrumah's features were always expressive, and I have never seen such a look of despair on a man's face as when he was told that a visit would not take place in November 1959, and would have to be postponed indefinitely.

Every effort was made by the Royal Family to mitigate Nkrumah's bitter disappointment. Prince PhilipFootnote ⁵⁶¹ agreed to visit Ghana in Her Majesty's place in November 1959, and I now record my recollections of that visit.

Prince Philip arrived in Accra in the evening of 23rd November. While I was waiting with Nkrumah at the airport for his arrival I was pleasantly surprised when my companion remarked that ‘on looking around I do not see enough Union Jacks’. Prince Philip's first engagement that evening was a state drive with Nkrumah in an open car through the beflagged streets of Accra. Nkrumah's comment after the drive was that he had witnessed ‘the warmest demonstration that he had seen in Ghana in the course of his whole political career’. It continued like this, with crowds lining the streets wherever he went, during the whole of the 6-day visit. Nkrumah accompanied his guest almost everywhere in person, finding it a convenient way of increasing his popularity, except on a trip to Kumasi, and he thoroughly enjoyed his vicarious popularity. Prince Philip was by far the most popular visitor during my stay in Ghana, and none of the African Heads of State who came to see Nkrumah in Accra had anything like the same reception from the public.

The first evening of the visit is etched indelibly in my memory, and I can revive even the minute details from a note made at the time. I had arranged a dinner at the State House to give the Prime Minister and my own household an opportunity to meet the Prince. Early in the day I was given a message to say that the Prime Minister wanted a private dinner, that is to say, just me and my wife, Nkrumah and his wife, Prince Philip and his aide Admiral Bonham-Carter.Footnote ⁵⁶² This of course would save the Prime Minister from appearing on the stage with fewer camp followers than his host. So the dinner table was re-arranged, and my household met the Prince for cocktails before the meal. Early in the evening there was an urgent telephone call from Robert Jackson to say that the Prime Minister wanted to bring Kwame IIFootnote ⁵⁶³ to the State House for a few minutes before the dinner. I described the ensuing scene in the following note:

The secret of Prince Philip's success was extremely hard work combined with personal charm. He breakfasted at 8.00am and was out of the house by 9.00am. He was usually not in bed before 12.00pm after a day of continuous movement and constant conversation in the tropical heat. He never allowed himself to show any sign of fatigue or boredom, and took immense trouble with everyone he met at the endless ceremonies and numerous introductions which filled his working day.

I put on paper some thoughts on the value to Ghana of the Duke's visit. In the first place, it was a lesson in the importance of a common loyalty overriding the claims of party, creed, or class, to the symbol of national unity. This lesson was particularly valuable for a new nation like Ghana, deeply torn by party strife and tribal rivalry. Prince Philip was indeed the first visitor since independence who had as favourable a comment in the Opposition Press as in the Government Press. His photograph in the company of Dr. Busia,Footnote ⁵⁶⁴ the Leader of the Opposition, appeared in the only Opposition newspaper, the Ashanti Pioneer.

Secondly, it had strengthened the ties between Ghana, the United Kingdom, and the Commonwealth. I had observed that the ‘Union Jack’ had not appeared in public places in Accra since independence. On this occasion and during the whole of the visit it was hoisted everywhere with the other Commonwealth flags.

Respect and affection for the Crown were expressed in many public speeches, including those of the Prime Minister and the Chairman of the Accra Municipal Council. Many individual Ghanaians who saw Prince Philip or shook his hand must have realised for the first time their link through the Crown with the peoples of the United Kingdom.

Eventually the postponed visit of the Queen to Ghana was fixed for 1961, when Her Majesty could come as Head of the Commonwealth, and not as Queen of Ghana. But it was not until the postponement of the Royal visit that Nkrumah decided to advance the date of the Republic. As the severance of the link with the British Crown concerned the other Commonwealth Countries, he was careful to inform them of his intention. But he regarded his friendship with Mr MacMillan as being an almost avuncular relationship, and he liked to seek the good advice of the British Prime Minister in dealing with other Commonwealth Governments. It was, therefore, to Mr MacMillan that Nkrumah addressed a letter in July 1958 informing him that he intended to make Ghana a Republic within two years, but not before 1960.

On the day he wrote to MacMillan, I received an official letter informing me of his proposal that Ghana should become a Republic as soon as the necessary changes had been made in the existing constitution. He asked me to disclose the intention of his Government to Her Majesty during my summer leave in the United Kingdom. He went on to emphasise that in view of the need for consultation with his United Kingdom and Commonwealth partners there would be no change in the Ghana Constitution in 1959. Finally, he said, would I ask Her Majesty to give him an audience to discuss his plans during his visit to the United Kingdom in August 1960. This I did, and the unexpected and welcome result was an invitation to Balmoral. The photographs of himself with the family corgis taken on the terrace of Balmoral stood henceforth on his study table.

It occurred to me that if I retired a year earlier than my three year term as Governor-General it would be possible for Ghana to have the first African Governor-General in the Commonwealth.Footnote ⁵⁶⁵ I explained my reasons in a letter to Hugh Gaitskell, the Leader of the Opposition in the House of Commons, on March 9th, 1959.

Gaitskell agreed, and was delighted by the prospect of my help in his Election Campaign in the United Kingdom if the General Election came in the autumn. After some time for reflection, Nkrumah told me, that he would like me to stay. The real reason for this decision was I am sure nothing to do with my job. He was simply afraid of having a retired African Governor-General, as a possible focus for political discontent, living in Ghana after he had become President of the Republic. Events were to show that his fears were not altogether without justification. While I for my part was immensely relieved to be able to stay for the full term of my appointment. I felt I was doing a useful job for my adoptive country, and would be spared immediate return to a poky little flat in Pimlico without a salary or full-time employment.

At the end of 1959, Nkrumah again wrote to Mr MacMillan that the most suitable date for his purpose would be June 1960, as this would allow time for consultation with Commonwealth Prime Ministers, after the Republican Constitution had been endorsed by plebiscite in April, following the approval of the Ghana National Assembly in March. The Commonwealth Prime Ministers Conference took place in London in May 1960 and it was agreed unanimously that Ghana, after the declaration of the Republic, could continue to be a member of the Commonwealth. Ghana was following India in this respect.

Nkrumah's political dexterity was shown in framing the questions addressed to the electorate in the plebiscite: one for the Republic, the other for the Presidency; insisting that each voter must be sure to answer both questions. The public was not in the least concerned about the change in the constitution, but of course the majority wanted the leader of the nation to become its first President, and how could you have a President without a Republic? Not surprisingly the result of the plebiscite was to give an overwhelming majority in favour of Nkrumah and his proposed constitution. Dr Danquah,Footnote ⁵⁶⁷ the oldest of his political opponents, would have been easily defeated without the additional handicap of a rigged poll. Nkrumah made sure that every vote in the polling booth was known by the CPP.

Nkrumah also showed deftness of touch in other dealings. For example, at one time he came to see me before his departure abroad saying that he was leaving his two chief Ministers, Botsio and Gbedemah, neither of whom had been appointed Deputy Prime Minister, in charge of the Government during his absence abroad. But as they were bitterly jealous he did not wish to chose which of the two should be acting as his Deputy. He would like to leave the decision to me. I am afraid I answered very firmly that it was not one of my constitutional duties to appoint his Ministers, and that he would really have to do it himself. I heard no more about the matter. In this instance, I do not think he could have expected this ‘try-on’ to work.

I was glad to find Nkrumah wanted my views about the draft Constitution. It was to be a presidential type of democracy, similar in this respect to the United States of America, with no ministerial responsibility to Parliament. As I knew it would be useless to suggest any limitation to the powers of the President, I made a suggestion about safeguarding the independence of the Judges, which Nkrumah appeared at the time to approve. I pointed out to him that removal from office with the concurrence of two-thirds of the National Assembly would be a pretty flimsy safeguard in an Assembly dominated by one Party, unless the grounds for removal of a Judge were clearly specified. Nkrumah saw the point immediately, and agreed to the insertion of the words ‘on the grounds of stated misbehaviour or infirmity of body or mind’ in the relevant clause of the Constitution. But in spite of Nkrumah's acceptance of my proposal, it was amended by his Party in the National Assembly so as to exclude the Chief Justice. This was to have important consequences after I left Ghana. For it made possible the dismissal of the Chief Justice, Sir Arku Korsah, in December 1963, after the Special Court over which he had presided had acquitted three men accused of the attempted assassination of the President in Northern Ghana. The Constitutional safeguard which still protected other High Court Judges was removed in June 1964, when two amendments were made to the Constitution after a referendum, one of which gave the President power ‘to dismiss a Judge of the High Court at any time for reasons which appeared to him sufficient’.

The Republic came into being at midnight on the day I left Ghana at the end of June 1960. Nkrumah wanted a British representative to attend the midnight inauguration ceremony, when he would take the oath as President of Ghana. The United Kingdom Government agreed to do so, and the Foreign Office proposed to send out a senior Minister, the Earl of Dundee,Footnote ⁵⁶⁸ who sat in the House of Lords. I discussed this proposal with Nkrumah, and he seemed very put out about it. The Minister in question was not a member of the Cabinet, and he had never even met him. I asked Nkrumah whom he would prefer if a Cabinet Minister was available. He replied that he would like Quentin [sic] Hogg, now Lord Hailsham. They had travelled together to Balmoral, and he had found him a most entertaining companion. He regarded this request as not at all unreasonable, because the other African countries would all be represented at Cabinet level. I therefore wrote to Mr MacMillan who agreed with considerable reluctance to this proposal, I will quote one passage from his reply:

This was in a letter to me from the Prime Minister in the beginning of April. However in the end he proved vulnerable to persuasion, and Quentin arrived in Ghana in the afternoon of my final day. I had the pleasure of completing his wardrobe with a pair of bathing drawers, which enabled him to refresh himself with a dip in my pool before attending the evening celebrations.

To me personally Kwame Nkrumah was always the most considerate of friends. He never refused me anything where my own convenience was concerned, for example he allowed me a long spell of home leave after an attack of jaundice, saying that I would recover sooner in London. When I left Ghana in 1960 he gave me a piece of African sculpture, a fine head in ebony, which he knew I admired. I should like to quote from the note that he sent with his gift:

He was a good listener and listened carefully to what I said in our talks together, and did not take offence when I disagreed with him. He was always good company and he liked nothing better than a really hearty laugh, when his whole body shook with enjoyment of a joke. If he wanted to tell me something even slightly disagreeable, he did so through my Private Secretary. He must have suspected at first that I might interfere in politics, as he forbade his Ministers to see me without his written permission.

One of his greatest assets as a politician, especially when he led the Nationalist Movement before independence, was from the accounts I heard from eye witnesses, of his spell binding ‘stump’ oratory. He entirely eclipsed Danquah and the older generation of Nationalist leaders, who were far too intellectual to indulge in mob oratory. His speeches in Parliament and on formal occasions always read well but lacked spontaneity, as he never engaged in the cut and thrust of debate. They were carefully prepared in advance, and read aloud to his audience.

Just before I left I received a farewell letter from Sir Michael Adeane:

The heavy programme for my last day included a farewell broadcast to the Nation, a farewell party for the Corps Diplomatique, and a ceremonial departure from the Airport, carefully timed to remove me by midnight from the local airspace of Ghana. All these items were set out on a printed programme which ended with the unflattering words ‘Governor-General departs. General rejoicing.’ I was reassured by the hope that the rejoicing might be for the advent of the Republic and not for my departure. Just before take-off from Accra Airport, I boarded my plane after the last handshake with Nkrumah, and the guns began to boom out their parting salute. To my dismay, the plane did not begin to move. I had visions of engine trouble, causing me, like Cinderella, to be caught at the ball after midnight, when the Republic would have come in. So I summoned the stewardess, and asked her to find out from the Captain what was wrong. The explanation she returned with allayed my anxiety. He was only waiting for me to change from my uniform into a comfortable tropical suit. I told him to take off immediately, and I have no doubt the waiting crowd was as relieved as I was when the plane was safely airborne.

And so I left Ghana in 1960, after three of the most exciting years in my life, with a deep sense of gratitude for the friendship and kindness that seem a national trait. But I left with grave doubts about the future. I could only visualise a country plunged more deeply into debt by Nkrumah's extravagance and haunted by the fear and insecurity of his ruthless egotism. He was a classic example of the truth of Acton's aphorism that ‘power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’.Footnote ⁵⁶⁹ I was therefore not surprised, but greatly relieved, when I heard in 1966 that he had been toppled by a relatively bloodless army coup.

It was not unexpected that Nkrumah had made no provision for a successor. His little son had been taken by his Egyptian motherFootnote ⁵⁷⁰ to the security of her homeland, and for a number of years one military president succeeded another. It was not until the revival of a limited parliamentary system under the aegis of Flight Lieutenant Rawlings,Footnote ⁵⁷¹ an air force officer backed by the armed services, that a period of political stability was restored, apart from the brief period of Busia's parliamentary rule. But the ultimate authority was still autocratic, and the democratic institutions little more than cosmetic.