The Infamous Malaboch War by David Hilton-Barber, published by Footprint Press, is available now. This extract is published by permission.
After Chief Malaboch (Malebogo) of the Bahananwa refused to pay taxes to the new ZAR Government, the Commissioner for Native Affairs in Zoutpansberg, Swart Barend Vorster set the stage for the war in December 1891 by insisting that the Bahananwa should meet the ZAR’s demands. According to one Anthony Vlotman, who accompanied Barend Vorster to Blaauwberg, the stronghold of the recalcitrant Chief on that date, the real casus belli was the insolent and hostile attitude displayed to the Commissioner when he requested Malaboch’s presence for a meeting to discuss a census of the tribe. The response was: “I am baas upon this mountain, and shall not allow the census to be taken.”
Nevertheless, ten of Malaboch’s head indunas then came down and, to quote Vlotman: “we were completely surrounded by considerably over two thousand Kafirs variously armed with guns and assegais. The Indunas were most insolent during the whole proceedings, and all our men stood to their guns, as we quite expected to be massacred.” The indunas repeated Malaboch’s words that they did not intend paying any taxes, as they were the rightful owners of the mountain, and not the Boers.
The subsequent war against Malaboch made history for several reasons. In the first place, Malaboch, predictably, viewed the Transvaal Boers as intruders who were trying to change his way of life and refused to have his territory demarcated in 1888; nor would he have his huts recorded for tax purposes in 1891. In the second place, this was the first time that British residents in Pretoria were “commandeered” to serve in the punitive commando. Under the Commando Law of the Republic, all inhabitants of the State, between the ages of 16 and 60, were liable for Commando service and, if commandeered, were obliged to equip themselves at their own expense with horse, saddle, rifle, ammunition, and four days’ rations. As far as the ‘Uitlanders’ were concerned, this caused somewhat of a hullabaloo. Despite these provisions in the law of the land, it was claimed, quite wrongly, that the drafting had been contrary to International law.
An appeal was made to the British High Commissioner, Sir Henry Loch, but after legal advice, he returned the “disappointing” reply that they were indeed liable for military service. Amid protests and demonstrations, a meeting was convened at the Caledonian Hall in Pretoria and the “Uitlanders Defence and Protection Association” was formed with the object of “supporting any men who might openly defy orders and refuse to proceed to the North.”
The Volksraad backed off to a degree by proclaiming that foreigners might absolve themselves from military service by paying a certain levy, but the Uitlanders were determined to make an issue of the whole matter. From Johannesburg came the news that the Transvaal National Union regarded the commandeering as illegal and that in the event of any Uitlander refusing to proceed to Zoutpansberg, the Union would provide funds to appeal to the courts, and would at once raise further funds to adequately provide for any distress resulting. The defaulters, who refused to attend the Commando, were arrested and committed to trial. When the judgment of the High Court was delivered on 18 June 1894, to the effect that the men committed for trial were indeed liable for military service, these men were re-arrested for forcible removal to the front.
The Association swung into action immediately. In Pretoria close on £200 was subscribed on the very afternoon that the men left for the front. A cable was despatched to the British Government declaring the situation to be ‘intolerable’, and calling, in no uncertain terms for diplomatic intervention. From Johannesburg the National Union cabled the British Prime Minister, Lord Rosebery, to the effect “unless prompt steps are taken to release British subjects commandeered, and prevent any recurrence, Union fears rioting and bloodshed, which it will be powerless to prevent”.
Sir Henry Loch came to Pretoria by train on an official visit on 25 June (official purpose of his visit was to negotiate over Swaziland) President Kruger met him at the station and when the two entered the State Carriage, a group of men pushed forward, the carriage was unhorsed, one man jumped onto the box carrying a Union Jack and the remainder proceeded to drag the carriage to the hotel where the High Commissioner was to be accommodated, “God Save the Queen” and Rule Britannia” being sung on the way. The President was apparently, left seated alone in the carriage during these proceedings, and was only relieved from his ‘discomfiture’ by the action of a group of burghers, who took the step of drawing the carriage to the Government Buildings.
In a despatch to the British Government, Loch declared himself satisfied that no personal insult had been intended to the President. But the burgher population was incensed by the incident and, armed groups rode into Pretoria from the surrounding districts to express sympathy. After diplomatic negotiation, it was established that all residents of the ZAR, regardless of protection against personal military service, were liable to be levied for contributions in money and goods; and on the same day as this became known, the commandeered men who had been forcibly removed to the front returned home. A few days later, the Transvaal National Union gave a dinner in honour of the men, and with the celebration the crisis came to an end. Thereafter Malaboch became something of an Uitlander protégé.
On the other side, of course, there was real enthusiasm for the campaign. The Rev Colin Rae, who was selected by the Bishop of Pretoria to accompany the Malaboch Commando to act as chaplain, wrote:
Many of the youthful members were most eager to be numbered amongst those fortunate and lucky individuals (such they considered them) whose names had already been enrolled on the list. The commando mustered on Church Square, each man equipped with a Martini-Henri rifle, a bandolier well filled with ammunition, a belt and canteen.
Some of the men had little idea of what was required, as evidenced by their general get up, a loud check suit, straw hat, and tennis shoes, with cartridge belt put on upside down, scarcely betokened a knowledge of what should constitute a smart military appearance. The crowd which had assembled was the largest, it was said, ever seen in Pretoria. The platform over the porch of the Government buildings was occupied by the Members of the Volksraad and their friends, whilst every available balcony was filled with eager onlookers, of whom the fair sex formed a goodly proportion.
Chaplain Rae’s friends provided him with warm clothing, a camp-chair, a large box of ‘dainties’, another box containing groceries, fresh and preserved vegetables, and medicines. He also asked for a horse, saddle, bridle, revolver, rifle, and ammunition, “all of which I considered absolutely necessary for my equipment But my modest requests were just as promptly though politely declined; being informed at the same time that the Government only saw its way to supply me with rations.”
The Pretoria town contingent, (mostly Englishmen), had no horses, and preferred keeping to the wagons rather than do stable duty. There must have been an air of excitement as the commando, headed by the band and a detachment of volunteers marched to the Raadzaal where the Commandant General addressed them from the balcony. He congratulated the residents of Pretoria for “so nobly responding to the call of duty” and that almost every man who had been commandeered had resolved to take up arms to defend the land he lived in. (Surely, the country was not under threat from Malaboch). With great cheering from the assembled crowd, the horsemen and wagons proceeded down Church Street bound for Wonderboom Poort where they were to spend two days.