Word: rhodesian
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After journeying deep into the Belgian Congo to photograph Dr. Carl K. Becker's hospital, Photographer Terence Spencer and TIME'S Rhodesian stringer Eric Robins were shocked when the publicity-shy Dr. Becker refused to allow any pictures. He finally relented on grounds that the world knows too little about the work of Christian missionaries. TIME'S team attempted to press on him a purely personal donation: their last remaining funds, 2,000 Congo francs, or about $40. Says Stringer Robins: "Dr. Becker put his hand on my shoulder and said kindly but firmly: 'No, please...
...benefit. First, France, which still controls much of the region along the Congo's northwestern border, began glancing covetously at the Lower Congo, the narrowing western edge around Leopoldville, which is the Congo's only outlet to the sea. Then, 1,500 miles inland, the British-controlled Rhodesian Federation was talking of annexing the Congo's Katanga province, which produces 60% of Congo wealth from a mineral-rich (copper, cobalt, diamonds, uranium) strip lying directly to the north of the Rhodesias...
...then there was a pesky intrusion from Sir Roy Welensky, burly Prime Minister of the Rhodesian Federation, who gave an interview with a visiting London Daily Express reporter and chortled, "There's going to be hell because I told you this." Welensky's "this": he had been getting letters from the Katanga region, wanting to link up with Rhodesia "when the Congo gains its independence." Who sent the letters? Sir Roy would...
Obviously not Katanga's Africans, who are 98% of the population, and want no new white masters. A likelier bet would be that the big Rhodesian and British mining interests, which own substantial shares in Katanga's rich Union Miniere du Haut-Katanga mining group, and perhaps Belgian industrialists themselves, were behind it all. Welensky talks of fearing a blood bath and "rampant tribalism" on his northern frontier, would welcome a buffer state against African nationalism...
...Hastings Banda, 55. who today sits, pajama-clad, writing his memoirs in a comfortable Southern Rhodesian prison, spent most of his adult life in Britain, where he was a prosperous London physician with a large white practice. Yet, when he returned to his native Nyasaland (pop. 2.800,000, almost all black) in 1958 after 40 years of self-exile, thousands of Africans met his plane and cheered hysterically when he shouted the one Chinyanja word he still remembered: "Kwaca! [dawn]," the slogan of all Nyasaland nationalists who demand self-rule and separation from the Central African Federation...