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A review by gheath
Legacy of Violence: A History of the British Empire by Caroline Elkins
5.0
Legacy of Violence is a brilliant expose of systematised state-sponsored violence in the ‘late’ British Empire. It is one of the best histories/polemical books related to imperialism that I have read comparable in impact and gravitas to Edward Said’s Culture and Imperialism. If British studies in the United States are on the wane, then Caroline Elkins’ Legacy of Violence: A History of The British Empire has certainly stirred the nest. The Harvard professor dug up facts that left many readers feeling discomfited. The one-star reviews posted by some, however, are churlish and irresponsible and we should all thank Elkins for taking the trouble.
The author, who previously focused on the British colonial response to the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya, broadens the net here taking the late British Empire from 1857 until the early 1970s as her period of study beginning with a rebellion in Jamaica and ending with “The Troubles” in Northern Ireland. We are presented then with a series of regional case studies spanning the whole globe. A pattern emerges and while the formal empire espoused an ideology of liberalism and rule of law, not far behind came violence. The cases are all different, but the level of violence is quite surprising in its extent and systematised nature. Elkins argues that this was no accident and that the colonial empire a) Saw violence as necessary for its ‘moral effect’, and b) The instances of violent repression were part of a large organisational and ideological cobweb that may appear ad hoc but was actually coherent. The violence was instigated by a small, close-knit and mobile group of dedicated protagonists. These individuals, some famous and others less so, pop up repeatedly.
Reading this book was an extraordinary experience for me. Of course, you knew that some ‘rough stuff’ had gone on here and there in the Empire, a few heads banged together perhaps, on balance though the British weren’t that bad compared to...the Nazis? In just one shocking case Elkins describes in nice detail the way the British tortured Germans in Combined Services Detailed Interrogation Centres (CSDICs) both during the war in London and at Bad Nenndorf ironically just before the Nuremberg trials. Perhaps the torture was not so nasty as the Gestapo’s; screams and wrecked bodies suggested otherwise. In later ‘Emergencies’ — Kenya, Malaya, and Cyprus for example — CSDICs were set up as standard. This history was not known to me at all or to many British people. And that is the main point--they were carefully, indeed skilfully, concealed (the burning of documents during decolonisation is a whole compelling subplot running through this volume). The scale of the state-sponsored violence in Kenya is truly astonishing. Was it really necessary? Of course not. Some said as much at the time and they were ignored. An ugly will to dominate and prevail over anti-colonial resistance prevailed; the violence was justified under emergency regulations, what Elkins calls ‘legalised lawlessness.’ She demonstrates that the ‘Rule of Law’ in the British Empire was a potent fiction, and ‘Liberal Imperialism’ an oxymoron.
The cases of Kenya, which Elkins previously wrote about, and Malaya are dealt with in some depth in this book, and here we start to see the ugly convergence of racism and repressive violence on a large scale. Of course, it was another time, and empires are always violent; however, what the British did in both these countries was downright illegal according to conventions Britain had signed up to and they knew it. British politicians and the Colonial Office had to peddle hard to keep critics and international lawyers at bay. The suppression of the Mau Mau rebellion was especially brutal with a staggering 1090 executions taking place. The ‘villagization’ programme forcefully relocated over a million Kikuyus within reserves, a practice pioneered in South Africa and repeated in Malaya. These ‘Emergency villages’ were effectively detention centres that punished innocent people. Necessary? That depends on your point of view. For the British colonial authorities, they were part of a necessary pacification programme, and also a part of racial capitalism. As well as taking a close look at this history, Elkins also wants us to reflect on the future consequences of these strategies and to my horror I see they have been largely copied for example by China today in Xinjiang Province. That is the point of the title of the book, the legacy of Britain’s imperial violence is copycat imperial violence, internment and racial, or racist, capitalism. The colonial assimilationist policies that obliterated local languages and traditional practices and trampled on land rights are being tragically repeated today.
This is a rich book that tells detailed stories with a cast of characters but which also poses questions relevant to the world today. It is well-written, thoroughly researched and polemical in the English radical tradition. It includes many interesting photos and is fully documented. In my view, Legacy of Violence, albeit narrowly focused on the bad, fully torpedoes the view that the British Empire was a ‘Good Thing’, despite what many people would like to believe.
The author, who previously focused on the British colonial response to the Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya, broadens the net here taking the late British Empire from 1857 until the early 1970s as her period of study beginning with a rebellion in Jamaica and ending with “The Troubles” in Northern Ireland. We are presented then with a series of regional case studies spanning the whole globe. A pattern emerges and while the formal empire espoused an ideology of liberalism and rule of law, not far behind came violence. The cases are all different, but the level of violence is quite surprising in its extent and systematised nature. Elkins argues that this was no accident and that the colonial empire a) Saw violence as necessary for its ‘moral effect’, and b) The instances of violent repression were part of a large organisational and ideological cobweb that may appear ad hoc but was actually coherent. The violence was instigated by a small, close-knit and mobile group of dedicated protagonists. These individuals, some famous and others less so, pop up repeatedly.
Reading this book was an extraordinary experience for me. Of course, you knew that some ‘rough stuff’ had gone on here and there in the Empire, a few heads banged together perhaps, on balance though the British weren’t that bad compared to...the Nazis? In just one shocking case Elkins describes in nice detail the way the British tortured Germans in Combined Services Detailed Interrogation Centres (CSDICs) both during the war in London and at Bad Nenndorf ironically just before the Nuremberg trials. Perhaps the torture was not so nasty as the Gestapo’s; screams and wrecked bodies suggested otherwise. In later ‘Emergencies’ — Kenya, Malaya, and Cyprus for example — CSDICs were set up as standard. This history was not known to me at all or to many British people. And that is the main point--they were carefully, indeed skilfully, concealed (the burning of documents during decolonisation is a whole compelling subplot running through this volume). The scale of the state-sponsored violence in Kenya is truly astonishing. Was it really necessary? Of course not. Some said as much at the time and they were ignored. An ugly will to dominate and prevail over anti-colonial resistance prevailed; the violence was justified under emergency regulations, what Elkins calls ‘legalised lawlessness.’ She demonstrates that the ‘Rule of Law’ in the British Empire was a potent fiction, and ‘Liberal Imperialism’ an oxymoron.
The cases of Kenya, which Elkins previously wrote about, and Malaya are dealt with in some depth in this book, and here we start to see the ugly convergence of racism and repressive violence on a large scale. Of course, it was another time, and empires are always violent; however, what the British did in both these countries was downright illegal according to conventions Britain had signed up to and they knew it. British politicians and the Colonial Office had to peddle hard to keep critics and international lawyers at bay. The suppression of the Mau Mau rebellion was especially brutal with a staggering 1090 executions taking place. The ‘villagization’ programme forcefully relocated over a million Kikuyus within reserves, a practice pioneered in South Africa and repeated in Malaya. These ‘Emergency villages’ were effectively detention centres that punished innocent people. Necessary? That depends on your point of view. For the British colonial authorities, they were part of a necessary pacification programme, and also a part of racial capitalism. As well as taking a close look at this history, Elkins also wants us to reflect on the future consequences of these strategies and to my horror I see they have been largely copied for example by China today in Xinjiang Province. That is the point of the title of the book, the legacy of Britain’s imperial violence is copycat imperial violence, internment and racial, or racist, capitalism. The colonial assimilationist policies that obliterated local languages and traditional practices and trampled on land rights are being tragically repeated today.
This is a rich book that tells detailed stories with a cast of characters but which also poses questions relevant to the world today. It is well-written, thoroughly researched and polemical in the English radical tradition. It includes many interesting photos and is fully documented. In my view, Legacy of Violence, albeit narrowly focused on the bad, fully torpedoes the view that the British Empire was a ‘Good Thing’, despite what many people would like to believe.