The Chagos Islands: A sordid tale

Realpolitik made real - the US base on Diego Garcia

"A very sad and by no means creditable episode in British history."

That was how Sir Sydney Kentridge QC, barrister for the Chagos islanders or Ilois, described their forced removal from their "paradise" homeland in the 1960s and 1970s.

The object of the exercise is to get some rocks which will remain ours

There will be no indigenous population except seagulls

Sir Paul Gore-Booth, 1966

It is hard to disagree with him.

The story involves "bribes" from the United States, racism among senior civil servants, and the UK Government deceiving parliament and the United Nations.

And the reason? Cold War 'realpolitik'.

Islanders less important than tortoises

In the mid-1960s, the US was worried about possible Soviet expansion in the Indian Ocean and wanted a base in the region - but one without a "population problem" which might upset the base's operation.

US B-52 bombers on Diego Garcia

In return, the US was willing to offer the UK an $11m subsidy on the Polaris submarine nuclear deterrent.

A memo from then Foreign Secretary Michael Stewart to Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson in 1969 admitted that the payment was kept secret from Parliament and the US Congress.

The Americans' first choice was the island of Aldabra, north of Madagascar.

Unfortunately, Aldabra was the breeding ground for rare giant tortoises, whose mating habits would probably be upset by the military activity and whose cause would be championed noisily by publicity-aware ecologists.

Unfortunately along with the birds go some few Tarzans or Man Fridays whose origins are obscure and who are hopefully being wished on to Mauritius

Diplomat Dennis Greenhill, 1966

The alternative was the Chagos Islands, part of Mauritius, then a British territory campaigning for independence.

The islands were home to some 1,800 people - mainly descendants of slaves - but no tortoises.

Independence was granted to Mauritius, but only after the Chagos Islands were separated in November 1965 by an Order in Council and renamed the British Indian Ocean Territory, or BIOT.

And when it came to having rights, the local population proved to have considerably less clout than giant tortoises.

Creating a fiction

British politicians, diplomats and civil servants began a campaign - in their own words - "to maintain the pretence there were no permanent inhabitants" on the islands.

It is clear from some of the disclosed documents that, in some quarters, the official zeal in implementing those removal policies went beyond any proper limits

Mr Justice Gibbs

This was vital, because proper residents would have to be recognised as people "whose democratic rights have to be safeguarded".

The inhabitants therefore became non-people. To the outside world, there must be no inhabitants, merely people living there temporarily - migrant workers and other transients.

A telegram sent to the UK mission at the United Nations in November 1965 summed up the problem:

Life as it was for the Ilois

"We recognise that we are in a difficult position as regards references to people at present on the detached islands.

"We know that a few were born in Diego Garcia and perhaps some of the other islands, and so were their parents before them.

"We cannot therefore assert that there are no permanent inhabitants, however much this would have been to our advantage. In these circumstances, we think it would be best to avoid all references to permanent inhabitants."

Sir Paul Gore-Booth, senior official at the Foreign Office, wrote to a diplomat in 1966: "We must surely be very tough about this. The object of the exercise is to get some rocks which will remain ours... There will be no indigenous population except seagulls..."

The diplomat, Dennis Greenhill, replied: "Unfortunately along with the birds go some few Tarzans or Man Fridays whose origins are obscure and who are hopefully being wished on to Mauritius."

As far back as 1965, Colonial Secretary Anthony Greenwood had warned that it was "important to present the United Nations with a fait accompli".

'Whopping lies'

Harold Wilson knew what was going on

And that was what happened, with decisions taken at the highest level by Harold Wilson and his Conservative successor, Edward Heath.

Those residents leaving the island were refused re-entry, then the copra plantations were bought up by the BIOT administration and closed down, medical facilities and supply ships withdrawn.

When the first Americans arrived on Diego Garcia, the largest atoll in the Chagos chain, the remaining residents were simply shipped out, first to a nearby island and then to Mauritius.

Official documents show that civil servants knew they were open to accusations of dishonesty, even "whopping fibs".

As the judge in the case, Mr Justice Gibbs, said: "It is clear from some of the disclosed documents that, in some quarters, the official zeal in implementing those removal policies went beyond any proper limits."

The judge was also clear that this was not just a result of different standards in a distant age: "The impression on right-thinking people upon reading them would have been similar then as now".

Which is perhaps why the Foreign Office, in lodging an appeal against the verdict, admits: "We are not seeking to defend what happened in the 1960s and 1970s.

In human terms - as opposed to those of international politics - it cannot.