No, this is nothing to do with (say) Neil Quigley’s months-long spin and obfuscation from last year (eg here or here).
Decades ago, when the Commonwealth counted for more, the regular Finance Ministers’ meetings seemed to usually be held in some of the more exotic and picturesque of the member countries (these days, barely attracting any attention, they seem to be held in the margins of the IMF/World Bank annual meetings). The 1985 meeting was held in (then newly-admitted to the Commonwealth) the Maldives. New Zealand’s then Minister of Finance Roger Douglas attended.
In the mid 1980s one of the issues again wracking the Commonwealth was what to do about (former member) South Africa, still under the apartheid government that was reforming, if at all, very slowly indeed. In the late 70s there had been the Gleneagles agreement on sporting contacts but by the mid 80s economic pressure and possible sanctions (including forced divestment) were in view, and not just among Commonwealth countries. Pressure was building too on private sector firms and in 1985 a refusal by international banks to rollover South African government short-term foreign debt led to greatly intensified pressures.
The Commonwealth, of course, is and was a diverse grouping. Some member countries (New Zealand was one, but it was true of Caribbean member countries too) had almost no economic ties to South Africa. Others – small border states in particular – were very heavily dependent on South Africa (migrant labour remittances, access to imports etc). And UK firms collectively made up by far the largest source of foreign investment in South Africa. Getting any sort of common view was a challenge to say the least, even when all deplored the apartheid system and looked towards a future transition. The South African government and security forces were not known as soft touches. Neither, of course, was Margaret Thatcher.
The Commonwealth was never able to agree on any very serious package of economic sanctions, but just a few weeks after that Finance Ministers meeting, the Commonwealth Heads of Government, meeting in the Bahamas, did agree a fairly mild set of measures. A further round was adopted the following year. Probably like all sanctions policies, economic and political historians no doubt debate quite what role sanctions did, or might have had, in leading to the early 1990s transition.
Back in 1985, the then Reserve Bank Economic Adviser (until recently Chief Economist) Peter Nicholl took up a one-year IMF-sponsored secondment as Head of Economic Research to the central bank of the Seychelles, also an Indian Ocean Commonwealth member country. Peter tells the story thus:
One thing I did during the evenings and weekends there was write a political thriller called Sanctions in Paradise. It was set in the Seychelles so i didn’t have to make up the scenery, just observe it. There is a Commonwealth Finance Ministers’ Conference being held in Seychelles. I had attended a couple of those boring meetings so I knew how they were organized and run. The main item on the agenda was whether or not to impose economic sanctions on South Africa because of their apartheid policies. The idea of trying to write the story occurred to me when I read a report on a group of South African mercenaries led by Mad Mike Hoare that had flown into Seychelles three years before I went there to try and overthrow the government – they failed. But reading the report gave me the idea of the South Africans trying to disrupt the meeting.
Peter came back to the Reserve Bank of New Zealand, spent several years as Deputy Governor, then as Executive Director at the World Bank, before an eight-year IMF-sponsored stint as the first Governor of the Central Bank of Bosnia and Herzegovina. (He made an appearance on this blog last year, having written a column for his local newspaper in Cambridge on the Reserve Bank shambles.)
Peter’s email to me a few weeks ago went on
I only sent it to one publisher. I got a very nice letter back – but it was a rejection letter. I put the book aside. I then lost the computer it was on and forgot all about it. About 3 years ago my sister found a printed copy in a box of papers from my mother’s estate. My mother was a hoarder – fortunately for me in this instance. I thought that was an omen so I decided to get the book self-published.
He offered to send me a copy, in the hope that I might like it and give it a plug. Self-marketing isn’t always easy. He passed on a couple of enthusiastic comments from eminent economists, both of whom had “thoroughly enjoyed it”. one adding “I found your accounts of the different national positions on sanctions on South Africa to be fascinating and compelling. The plot was good, your knowledge of Commonwealth meetings was obviously first rate and your writing is really good” and the other suggesting it had been a great read and suggesting Peter write another book.
I’m quite a fan of political or spy thrillers, especially those written and set in bygone decades which capture some of the flavour of the times without the benefit of hindsight (on Tyler Cowen’s recommendation last year I devoured those, mostly from the 1930s, of English writer Eric Ambler).
Much of Peter’s book is written in the voice of a rather hapless Treasury secondee (doubling as the Minister’s speechwriter) in the office of the Minister of Finance, part of the small New Zealand party at the conference. Resemblances between the Minister of Finance character and Roger Douglas seem slight at best, but the PM does get a bit part and there might be a few more resemblances to David Lange there.
So what did I make of the book? It was pretty well plotted and so I enjoyed the story. Since the author knew both the local setting and the political setting (as he notes, he’d been to previous Commonwealth Finance Ministers meetings) there is quite a sense of authenticity about it. The political issues and tensions from the times were very real, and if I’m old enough to hazily remember them, younger readers might appreciate an undemanding dip into the political tensions of another time. And if the book seemed a little slow to get going (albeit there is a high-drama event on page 3), it gathers pace and ends with a plausible-enough plot twist that I really didn’t see coming. And while newly released, the circumstances of the writing, loss and recovery, mean it does treat real history as we live it – without the benefit of hindsight, knowing how things eventually turned out.
As a reviewer, I’d note that the plot was stronger than the character development – but then it is a political thriller, not claiming to be “literary fiction” – and the dialogue at times was a bit clunky. Oh, and in a few places an editor might have been helpful (I noted Peter slipped between talking of a Prime Minister and a President of South Africa – from 1984 it was President (P W Botha)). But, yes, it was an enjoyable read, and not at all bad for the price.
Yes, Peter sent me a free copy but it appears that you can buy it for $19.95 in paperback or $5.99 for the e-book. Orders appear to to be able to placed here although Peter suggested that anyone wanting to buy a copy could contact him direct at peterwenicholl@yahoo.co.nz.
Facts Only
In the mid-1980s, the Commonwealth debated economic sanctions against South Africa’s apartheid government.
The 1985 Commonwealth Finance Ministers’ meeting was held in the Maldives, attended by New Zealand’s Finance Minister Roger Douglas.
Commonwealth member states had varying economic ties to South Africa, complicating consensus on sanctions.
The UK was the largest source of foreign investment in South Africa at the time.
In 1985, international banks refused to roll over South African government short-term foreign debt, increasing pressure on the regime.
Later in 1985, Commonwealth Heads of Government agreed on mild sanctions against South Africa, with further measures adopted in 1986.
Peter Nicholl, then an economic adviser at the Reserve Bank of New Zealand, wrote a political thriller titled *Sanctions in Paradise* while on secondment in the Seychelles.
The novel is set during a fictional Commonwealth Finance Ministers’ meeting in the Seychelles, focusing on debates over South African sanctions.
Nicholl’s inspiration included a 1981 mercenary coup attempt in the Seychelles led by Mad Mike Hoare.
The manuscript was lost for decades before being recovered from Nicholl’s mother’s estate and self-published.
The book is available in paperback for $19.95 or as an e-book for $5.99.
Nicholl later served as Deputy Governor of the Reserve Bank of New Zealand, Executive Director at the World Bank, and Governor of the Central Bank of Bosnia and Herzegovina.
Executive Summary
In the mid-1980s, the Commonwealth grappled with how to address South Africa’s apartheid regime, with debates over economic sanctions intensifying. The 1985 Commonwealth Finance Ministers’ meeting in the Maldives, attended by New Zealand’s Finance Minister Roger Douglas, highlighted divisions among member states—some with minimal ties to South Africa, others heavily dependent on it, and the UK as the largest foreign investor. Later that year, Commonwealth Heads of Government agreed on mild sanctions, though their effectiveness remains debated. Peter Nicholl, then an economic adviser at the Reserve Bank of New Zealand, drew on his experience at these meetings to write a political thriller, *Sanctions in Paradise*, set in the Seychelles. The novel, inspired by real events like a 1981 mercenary coup attempt, explores tensions around sanctions but was initially lost and only recently self-published. While the book offers an authentic portrayal of Commonwealth dynamics, its character development is secondary to its plot-driven narrative.
The article also reflects on the broader historical context of sanctions against apartheid, noting the challenges of achieving consensus within the Commonwealth and the role of external pressures, such as international banks refusing to roll over South African debt. Nicholl’s personal journey—from drafting the manuscript to its recovery decades later—adds a layer of serendipity to the story. The book, now available for purchase, blends fiction with historical realism, offering readers a glimpse into the political and economic tensions of the era.
Full Take
This narrative weaves together historical context, personal anecdote, and literary creation to explore the complexities of international diplomacy during the apartheid era. The strongest version of the story highlights the genuine tensions within the Commonwealth over sanctions, the authenticity of Nicholl’s insider perspective, and the serendipitous recovery of a lost manuscript. It credibly captures the challenges of balancing moral opposition to apartheid with economic and political realities, a dilemma that resonates beyond the 1980s.
Pattern scan: The article avoids overt manipulation, but it does frame the Commonwealth’s sanctions as "mild," which could subtly downplay their significance. The focus on Nicholl’s book as a lens for historical events risks conflating fiction with analysis, though the author acknowledges this by distinguishing between the novel’s plot and real-world dynamics. No clear distortion or bad faith is present, but the narrative leans on Nicholl’s authority as an insider to lend weight to the book’s portrayal of events.
Root cause: The underlying paradigm is the tension between collective action and national self-interest in international diplomacy. The article assumes that sanctions were a meaningful tool against apartheid, though historians debate their impact. It also reflects a broader pattern of how personal narratives—like Nicholl’s—can illuminate institutional histories.
Implications: For human agency, the story underscores how individuals within bureaucracies (like Nicholl) can shape or document history, even in small ways. The costs of sanctions were unevenly distributed, with frontier states bearing disproportionate burdens, while the UK’s economic ties complicated moral clarity. Second-order consequences include the lingering question of whether economic pressure or internal reform drove apartheid’s end.
Bridge questions: How might the Commonwealth’s approach to sanctions compare to modern diplomatic challenges, like climate policy or human rights abuses? What perspectives from South African or frontier-state voices are missing from this retelling? Would the book’s portrayal of sanctions hold up if cross-referenced with declassified documents from the era?
Counterstrike scan: If this were part of a coordinated campaign, the playbook might emphasize the Commonwealth’s divisions to undermine faith in multilateralism or use Nicholl’s book to romanticize sanctions as a tool of change. However, the content does not align with such a pattern; it presents a nuanced, personal reflection rather than a polemical argument.
Sentinel — Human
This text reads as a personal reflection layered over historical context, demonstrating a strong, idiosyncratic human voice rather than formulaic machine generation.