/ 13 January 2005

Scratcher’s wasted wonga

Among the many ironies surrounding last year’s abortive coup in Equatorial Guinea is that the helicopter funded by Sir Mark Thatcher never got off the ground.

Plans to use a hired chopper as a gunship and air ambulance were abandoned less than a month before South African mercenaries launched a British-backed assault on the oil-rich West African state’s island capital of Malabo on March 7.

The helicopter had been flown to Walvis Bay from East London in mid-January to await collection by a Russian cargo aircraft sent from Equatorial Guinea by a key coup planner, former South African Special Forces officer Nick du Toit.

The Ilyushin and its Armenian crew, chartered by Du Toit, never arrived, and the helicopter was returned to its owners to defray the mounting costs of a disintegrating operation.

The $275 000 (about R1,6-million) allegedly put up by Thatcher to acquire a helicopter for the coup plan, devised by British soldier of fortune Simon Mann, was lost. But as developments this week underline, Thatcher would have to forfeit much more to stay out of jail.

By pleading guilty to contravening South Africa’s foreign military assistance Act, Thatcher (51) averted extradition to Equatorial Guinea to stand trial and possibly the same fate as Du Toit, sentenced last November to 34 years in the unspeakable Black Beach prison, with another four South Africans and six Armenians. Mann will spend at least another five years in Zimbabwe’s harsh Chikurubi prison.

Thatcher’s business reputation was in tatters long before his arrest last August on charges of helping to finance the foiled coup against President Teodoro Obiang Nguema. With his Constantia mansion on the market for R24-million, he is expected to relocate to more modest accommodation or quit South Africa.

After months of denying any involvement in the coup plan, Thatcher was facing a sensational trial in South Africa and a possible 15-year prison sentence in the light of mounting evidence from three mercenaries who paid hefty fines and received suspended sentences last November after admitting their roles.

Crause Steyl, in charge of air support and logistics for the plan, described in court papers how Mann sent him to Johannesburg’s Lanseria airport in December 2003 to meet London accountant Greg Wales and “the investor who would finance the helicopter”. This was Thatcher, a qualified pilot who identified the helicopter required and tested it himself days before Christmas 2003.

Steyl said that after flying the craft, Thatcher decided something different was needed.

On January 8 last year, he transferred $20 000 (about R118 600) to Steyl, followed by $255 000 (about R1,5-million) eight days later. Steyl told the Scorpions the funding was to acquire a helicopter that could be used as a gunship and evacuate casualties among the 80 mercenaries recruited by Du Toit.

Thatcher had previously admitted making the payments to Steyl’s company, Ambulance Air Africa, but maintained he was investing in a medical rescue scheme.

However, details supplied by Steyl and fellow mercenaries Harry Carlse and Louwtjie Horn tell of a carefully constructed plan to oust Nguema and install his political rival, Severo Moto, allowing a group of international financiers to gain a foothold in Equatorial Guinea’s oil industry.

Investors, headed by Lebanese-born oil trader Eli Calil and allegedly including disgraced Tory peer and author Jeffrey Archer, were promised a tenfold return. Mann expected to pocket $10-million (about R60-million) for the coup and he and Du Toit also stood to make millions from providing “security services” for Moto.

The spotlight has now turned to the foreign backers. The Equatorial Guinea government has a damages suit pending in London against Mann, Calil and Wales, while South Africa could seek the extradition of investors, including Wales and British mining expert David Tremain.

Mann is believed to have turned down the chance of testifying against the financiers to avoid prosecution in South Africa, but Thatcher can expect to be called as a witness against them.

A letter smuggled out of prison by Mann last March to his friend “Scratcher” first alerted investigators to Thatcher’s links with the 70 mercenaries held in Zimbabwe and their 14 cohorts apprehended in Equatorial Guinea.

Thatcher was reportedly “too busy watching the Malaysian Grand Prix” to meet South African envoys who had travelled to Britain to plead for the “large splodge of wonga” — financial clout — Mann believed would save him and his men.