Kind of makes one wish that imperialism weren't so politically incorrect.
That depends on which variant of imperialism. I doubt many are nostalgic for King Leopold's "Heart of Darkness" version:
Hochschild's sketches of these three individuals are vivid, and his depiction of what they and many others were confronting is masterly. It shows, above all, that during Leopold's rule in Africa from 1885 to 1908, and in the years on either side of it, the peoples of the Congo River Basin suffered, in Hochschild's words, ''a death toll of Holocaust dimensions.'' This is not said lightly. The strategy adopted to plunder the area was, in effect, a war of enslavement against the indigenous population.
Much of the death toll was the result of killing, pure and simple. Villages were dragooned into tapping rubber, and if they refused to comply, or complied but failed to meet European quotas, they were punished. The hands of dead Congolese were severed and kept by militias to account to their quartermasters for spent ammunition. And, as Morel said, the practice of mutilation was extended to the living. By far the greatest number of deaths, however, were caused by sickness and starvation. The effect of the terror was to drive communities from their sources of food.
A Belgian Government commission estimated that from the late 1870's, when the explorer Henry Morton Stanley made his first forays into the Congo on King Leopold's behalf, until 1919, the year the commission published its findings, the population of the Congo Basin had been reduced by half. In 1924 there were thought to be some 10 million inhabitants -- which means, Hochschild says, that ''during the Leopold period and its immediate aftermath the population of the territory dropped by approximately 10 million.'' nytimes.com
The British were more benign, as administrators anyway. I remember reading something about India where it was stated that if the French ran India, they'd have just killed Gandi and been done with it. There were some other problems with the British, though. Consider battlefields.co.za
When Lord Chelmsford (Commander in Chief of Her Majesty's Forces in South Africa) launched his second invasion into Zululand in June 1879, he had one intention only in mind, to smash the Zulu Army under King Cetswayo which had contemptuously routed the cream of the British Battalions at Isandlwana several months earlier.
No attempt to parley was ever seriously entertained by the British General although Cetswayo desperately clung to the belief that by some miracle, the British could be dissuaded from destroying the Kingdom.
His Lordship was acutely aware that (because of his earlier failures), he had been relieved of his Command by the British Government. Sir Garnet Wolseley, his successor, was already on the high seas en route to South Africa consequently time was of the essence if he was to inflict the final blow and partially restore his shattered reputation. . . .
All through the remainder of that long hot morning, Zulu's were flushed from their bolt holes and dispatched without any thought of compassion; only two of their number were taken prisoner.
Then the final dastardly act. Chelmsford gave the order for the Royal enclosure (ikhanda) to be torched which his soldiers carried out in gleeful abandon, each racing the other to be there first.
The ikhanda, the last symbolic citadel of the Zulu kings of the old order was reduced to ashes without any thought of the lasting sufferings, agonies and strife it would bring to the Zulu nation. Such are the barbarities and thoughtlessness of warfare.
Cetswayo, former ally of the British Empire, beaten and vanquished, fled the locality, his heart full of despair. Later, betrayed by one of his own followers, Cetswayo was led off into captivity on 28 August by Major Marter and banished from his Kingdom.
No less than 1 500 Zulus perished on the battlefields that day in defence of their king, whilst the British losses were counted as 13 killed and 69 wounded. 3 of their number were subsequently awarded the Victoria Cross.
Chelmsford resigned and handed over command to Wolseley a few days later. With his retinue he made his way back down the lines of communication, over the seas to England and a warm welcome from a grateful Monarch. He never again assumed a command in the field.
He died whilst playing snooker at a club in London in 1906, and with him, an epoch of shame during Queen Victoria's reign. |
