Harry Frederick Oppenheimer

My father was born in Kimberley on 28 October 1908. He grew up in turbulent times – first The Great War and then, as he finished university and joined the business, the Great Depression. These events would have influenced anyone’s outlook on life, but I believe there was a series of other seminal events that had an even greater influence on him. These were the death of his mother May, the death of his uncle Leslie Pollak and the death of his brother Frank, all of which happened at much the same time. Suddenly he was on his own and burdened with the expectations of his father, Ernest. He did not flinch from these blows or the challenge and, indeed, came through the refining fire strong and determined, maybe even to the exclusion of some of the softer things in life.

I think of my father as a diamond. He had to pass through heat and fire to be created; and then there were many different facets to the man, all of which contributed to the overall brilliance. The basic facet was his commitment to South Africa. He bought in totally to my grandfather’s vision of being a South African and an African. Ernest did not go to South Africa just to make money. He quickly became a naturalised South African and Anglo American Corporation was founded as a South African company. My grandfather had made his commitment to South Africa clear early by entering local politics and becoming mayor of Kimberley and, later, a Member of the South African Parliament. My father’s first commitment to South Africa was during the Second World War when he was an early volunteer and served in North Africa. It might have been claimed that, prior to the war, my father had lived in a somewhat rarefied social circle. Now he had to rub shoulders with a wide range of people from all walks of life and he flourished. His troops might have thought him strange at times, but they related to him and many remained his friends thereafter. No one can ask for a better recommendation than that.

After the war he stood for and was elected to Parliament, remaining a Member until my grandfather’s death in 1957. He loved Parliament – the cut and the thrust and the sense of power – and this was at a time when his then party, the United Party, felt they could easily become the government and were a real influence. His expertise was in economics and, if history had been different, he would have made an excellent Minister of Finance, or more.

But, with my grandfather’s death, the obligation that he felt so strongly all his life meant that there was no hesitation in giving up something he loved and enjoyed and moving full-time into business and the responsibilities and obligations of Anglo American and De Beers. Later in life I always had the feeling that his years in Parliament were some of the best.

But though he was now out of Parliament he never lost his love for and involvement in politics. His view of the future of South Africa had always involved all South Africans and, in this regard, he was on the left wing of the old United Party. It would have surprised no one that he was the principal backer of the Progressive Party when it split from the United Party. Sadly, at that time, not many other South Africans shared his political beliefs and in no time, the party was reduced to being represented in Parliament by only Helen Suzman (though many would have claimed she was worth more than the rest of the Opposition put together!). But my father’s support for the party and the principles it stood for (and Helen Suzman) never wavered, even though this support had a negative impact on Anglo American and De Beers. To him, some beliefs were more important than even these two great companies.

It was my father’s greatest political delight that he lived long enough to see democracy come to South Africa. While there must have been times that he thought it would not happen in his life, he always knew it was inevitable. To have a government that represented all South Africans and looked after all South Africa was his dream, and it has been fulfilled. But my father’s political involvement went beyond South Africa. He may have been a South African first, but he was also an African and related to the continent as a whole. It is a great compliment to what he stood for that so many of Africa’s leaders could distinguish between a South Africa ruled in terms of apartheid and my father and his philosophy for Africa. I have always thought it worthy of note that during the days when Tanzania was leading the fight against apartheid my father would always stay in State House as the guest of President Nyerere whenever he visited Tanzania. My father believed Africa had real potential as a continent and he saw the task of South Africa to be one of the leaders in the drive to seize this opportunity. Looking back in the South African political context, could he have done more? He would have been the first to say yes, but that is easy with hindsight. One cannot compare ages. He was, politically, ahead of his time in South Africa and he made sure the companies he was associated with were as well. This, surely, is no bad epitaph.

But enough about politics. The next facet I want to talk about is people. My father had great skill in finding and nurturing people. Of course the best person he found was my mother. They were married for 57 years and were a great partnership. My mother bought into my father’s view of obligation and the need to preserve standards and, as a couple, they immeasurably strengthened each other. My father may have been head of the family, but my mother was clearly the matriarch – and all Africans know the influence the matriarch has in a herd of elephants! She was his support and strong right hand – keeping the family in line (with my sister Mary and myself, no easy task!) and making life run smoothly. It is not possible to over-emphasise her influence on so many of the facets that made up Harry Oppenheimer.

But his skill of selection and nurture went outside the family. In the cauldron of North Africa he recruited Grey Fletcher and Guy Young, and then also of that era were Ted Brown and Keith Acutt, all of them rough diamonds. But my father could see the polished brilliance that resided inside the rough. He soon had in place the idea of having a personal assistant with potential working closely with him. Many different people went through this process and, though they may not all have become successful business people at the end of the day, they all had something special. They all had to have a ‘touch of the monkey’, as he put it, in their make-up. My father was always prepared to put up with their idiosyncrasies and encourage them to grow. Which chairman would have put up with a very large and very difficult young man called Julian Ogilvie Thompson as his PA? My father did it because he knew Julian was someone special who, with nurture, would make a real and important contribution to Anglo and De Beers. It was very satisfying for him to know how good this judgement was. Not everyone came through the route of being his PA – at other times he was happy to look outside the group and one needs to look no further than Graham Boustred, one of the greatest industrialists South Africa has ever produced, or Leslie Boyd, his successor. And while my father was so good with people, most specially recognising their skills and potential, he was just as good at knowing where he, himself, was. He knew when to step down, which is just as important as knowing when to start out. He was only too happy to pass the baton of leadership within Anglo American to Gavin Relly and that of De Beers to Julian Ogilvie Thompson. Indeed, he spent much time in planning the detail of how this would take place. In both cases his judgement proved to be correct. In just the same way Julian was then able to seamlessly succeed Gavin at Anglo and, most recently, Tony Trahar has become the chief executive of Anglo. All done, as my father would have wanted, without any angst.

The next facet is business itself. My father always claimed that the Great Depression had made him cautious when it came to business decisions, but that did not stop him being totally involved in the development of the Free State gold mines. Anglo American really bet the company on that development and I am sure many people had sleepless nights. But my father was not frightened of innovation – all he needed to be sure of was that the necessary homework had been done. He believed in starting new businesses and not just buying other people’s. He wanted to leave behind an inheritance that had been created – and he was not disappointed. Under his chairmanship, Anglo American and De Beers went through successful and difficult times, but they both remained – and still remain – true to his, and his father’s, tenet of faith. Business had to do with more than just making money – especially in Africa and other developing countries – it had to make a real contribution to development. I believe this tenet of faith sets both Anglo American and De Beers apart from other mining companies. It also resulted in both companies having aspects of family in their make-up. That is strength, but also imposes an obligation, which my father never shirked.

Another facet was my father’s romanticism. You may find that strange, but why else did Byron, Shelley and the romantic poets touch his soul? And it was also reflected in the type of paintings he collected. I am not sure he would have wanted that side of his character to be seen too often – serious businessmen driven by a sense of obligation should not read such stuff. But was this not another facet of what might have been if the demands of South African politics and then business had not had precedence? His Africana library gave him real pleasure, but that inner sanctum containing his well-thumbed copies of Byron, Shelley and others was where his soul rested. Marcelle Weiner, the Brenthurst librarian, claims that after his funeral she felt part of him settle in the library – and she may well have been right.

Romantic poetry was one thing, but education in general was another facet. I do not think school was his favourite place, but university was quite another thing. His time at Oxford was really important in the development of his mind and he had a love of Christ Church and Oxford to the end of his life. He saw excellence as something that was necessary and must be supported. His love of university flowed on to Cape Town where he was chancellor for more years than he thought sensible. It was the position he found hardest to give up. What could be more exciting for someone who had absolute faith in the future of South Africa than being able to cap those who were setting out to create that future?

However, my father was not all intellect; he was also a sportsman – in his youth a rider, though, I am told, with a somewhat insecure seat. He also played squash with enjoyment, but those who knew him well will be unsurprised to know that it was not with great natural talent, but rather with considerable guile. He never quite came to terms with my love of cricket, though when I was very young he did bowl to me in the nets – once. His first ball flew with deadly accuracy straight into my eye and possibly drove a love of cricket into my soul.

He played golf, again not with great natural talent, but well enough that his name is featured once – on the winners’ boards at Temple Golf Club! This single feature does get somewhat lost as his cousin Raymond’s name surrounds it on every side. But golf did reveal another side to my father’s character. Normally he was the most equitable of people, always able to think logically, with emotion well under control, but on the golf course that was not the case! His intellect could not understand why he did not hit the ball 250 yards down the middle of the fairway every time. This failure irritated him considerably and, as the game progressed, this would become more and more apparent as the irritation warred with embarrassment at this loss of control.

Lastly, even though giving up the riding himself, he maintained a love of racehorses and their breeding. Was it because their beauty and strength and courage appealed to the romantic in him? Like business, the racing game has its ups and downs. And sadly for many of the years in the ’90s, with few exceptions, the yellow and black colours did not feature strongly. Even Oliver Baring, in his pomp, could have overtaken many of the runners in the straight. However, neither my mother nor my father ever complained or faltered in their support of the racing world. But then came a momentous decision – a new stallion, Fort Wood, was bought. My father claimed that this was a good risk for him as there was every chance he would be long dead before it was proved either a champion or a dud. For once, he was way out in his reckoning. Almost immediately, Fort Wood sired a colt, Horse Chestnut, who swept all before him. I am not sure what gave my father most pleasure – breeding a champion or observing, benignly, the pleasure it gave my mother.

I dare say that if anyone had asked him what gave him the greatest buzz in the ’90s, he would have answered ‘democracy in South Africa and a champion race horse’. I hope I have illustrated a character of many facets, each complementing the other, a person who might have followed many different careers. I sometimes worry that his world did not allow him to do all the things he might have wanted, but he had committed himself early, and with full knowledge, to a particular type of life. He fully understood that privilege brought with it obligation, something that in today’s less structured world is all too often forgotten. That obligation did not come at a light price, but my father never shirked from paying his dues.

He is missed by many, not only in Africa, but also round the world. He had a full and worthwhile life and left a great heritage. But my father was never one for looking back at what had been achieved – he always looked forward, thinking what could be made of the future. That task will now fall to us, his friends.
Rest in peace and may your successors be worthy.

Published in Optima vol.47, no.1, February 2001