South Arabia: Gone With the Wind

There was no question that the government of the Federation of South Arabia was overthrown last week, but where were the people who toppled it? The British-backed sultans, sheiks and emirs were all on the lam, and no one came to take their place. Nine of the 14 Cabinet members were abroad taking “health cures,” talking with other Arab leaders or simply salting away their money in foreign banks. Four others were missing—either kidnaped by nationalist rebels or in hiding. That left Hussein Ali Bayoomi, the Information Minister, as almost the lone government official in the deserted federal capital of Al Ittihad. “The government is finished,” said Bayoomi. “It is gone with the wind.”

Busy Fighters. There was no telling how long it would be before the wind blew in a new regime. British High Commissioner Sir Humphrey Trevelyan, after a quick trip to London for consultations, announced over Aden radio: “It is urgently necessary that a new government should take over. I recognize the nationalist forces as representatives of the people and am ready to enter into discussions immediately with them.” The nationalist forces were too busy fighting each other to stop to talk to Sir Humphrey.

Pitched battles were in progress between the National Liberation Front (N.L.F.) and the Front for the Liberation of Occupied South Yemen (FLOSY) for control of two of the federation’s 17 states. The N.L.F. already holds twelve, FLOSY two. Only the emirate of Beihan is still unbothered by the rebels. In Aden, the federation’s dominant state, not even the presence of 10,000 British troops could prevent street fighting between the two groups.

The trouble between them goes back to Egypt’s Gamal Abdel Nasser, who once backed the N.L.F. which has always been strong on terrorism but weak in leadership. In 1966, Nasser switched his support to the newer and more political FLOSY. Today, the N.L.F.’s only visible leaders are its secretary general, Qahtan al Shaabi, 47, an engineer who once served as director of agriculture in one of the federation’s tiny sultanates, and his hard-eyed young nephew, Feisal. What outside support they have, if any, remains their secret. FLOSY, on the other hand, boasts a stable of well-known politicians and administrators, led by Abdul Qawee Mackawee, 48, onetime Chief Minister of Aden, and Abdullah Asnag, 32, former boss of Aden’s powerful trades unions. For the past five months, FLOSY has operated a government in exile, complete with a full shadow Cabinet, a capital in the Yemeni city of Taiz, and operating headquarters in Cairo.

No Talking. The British, understandably, would rather deal exclusively with the N.L.F., which is not only stronger than FLOSY but is also anti-Nasser. Trouble is, the N.L.F. is simply not equipped to run a government, and with the territory scheduled to gain its independence in January, the British are trying hard to bring the two groups together in a coalition.

That will take some doing. In Cairo, Mackawee and Asnag refuse to talk to the British, apparently on the theory that the only honorable way for revolutionaries to come to power is to seize it. They also refuse to talk to the N.L.F., whom they now accuse of being British puppets. Mackawee also has another reason for hating the N.L.F.: three of his children were killed when N.L.F. terrorists blew up his home in February.