by Piers Brendon (Author)
# Hardcover: 816 pages
# Publisher: Knopf; 1 edition (October 28, 2008)
# Language: English
# ISBN-10: 0307268292
# ISBN-13: 978-0307268297
Unlike Americans, who never considered themselves imperialists, the British took their imperial duties seriously. The sons and daughters of empire saw themselves as present-day Romans. They were steeped in the classics, they learned the languages of their subject peoples, and they prepared to spend many years abroad in the service of the Crown. Brendon makes the case (as did Niall Ferguson in Colossus: The Rise and Fall of the American Empire) that they saw themselves on a civilizing mission, that their empire - unlike Rome's - was a liberal empire. The British Empire would be a caretaker government until the locals were deemed capable of self-government. The conflicting goals of developing self-government and maintaining loyalty to the Crown manifest themselves often during this period in the form of uprisings and rebellions.
The story begins with the surrender of Cornwallis to Washington at Yorktown in 1781 and ends with the British handover of Hong Kong to China in 1997. Ironically, the British thought that their empire had started to decline with the loss of the colonies in America, instead their most glorious - or most infamous - days were still ahead of them. After the Napoleonic Wars, the other European powers were greatly weakened. For the British the years from 1815 to 1914 were indeed the British Century. The Empire reached its apex during the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897. It was an Empire on which the sun never set, consisting of a quarter of the world's population and habitable land.
Being an inherently contradictory enterprise, liberal empire naturally had its seamy side. Brendon does not shy away from recounting the exploitation, racism, brutality, and the massacres that occurred. There was the Indian Rebellion, the Mau Mau uprising in Kenya, the uprising in Ceylon in 1818, to name a few of the most brutal. In other words, Brendon presents enough evidence of violence and tragedy in this book to disabuse anyone of the merits of trying to impose a liberal empire. The question of which side was civilized and which side was savage comes to mind often.
That being said, Brendon paints some memorable portraits of the larger-than-life characters that animated the Empire. He seems especially fond of the Victorians in all their excesses. There were the arch-imperialists such as Cecil Rhodes, Lord Cromer, Kitchener, HM Stanley (and Dr Livingstone, I presume) with their outsized views of themselves. There were also colorful literati such as Rudyard Kipling, Richard Burton, and Joseph Conrad who were great travelers, as well as great writers.
This book is well worth reading as the endgame of the British empire is still unraveling today. Many of ongoing conflicts being played out today in Pakistan, India, Iraq, Isreal, Palestine, etc. were to some degree set in motion when the British forces withdrew from those areas. The British Empire - like the Roman - still casts a long shadow.
Piers Brendon has written a masterpiece on a very important subject, namely:why nations abhor occupation throughout history.To quote Edward Gibbon who said that "there is nothing more adverse to nature and reason than to hold in obedience remote countries and foreign nations, in oppposition to their inclination and interest"-words which also sum up Brendon's argumentations about the British Empire's failure regarding its attempt to subjugate a quarter of the world.
The thesis of the author is simple:from its inception, the Brits were doomed to finish- sooner or later- their brutal occupation on hundreds of millions.True, they were not alone;other countries such as France, Spain, Portugal, Holland have also experimented with oppressing others in the name of white man's (supposed)civilization.The will to force and enforce their mentality upon others is not something new :it had its origins in ancient history via the Roman Empire, which crumbled after a thousand years.
The British thought that by imposing their manners, language, education and culture on other peoples they would succeed where others had failed.They were excruciatingly wrong.Not only were they mocked, spit upon,underestimated,despised,but they were also ridiculed and brought to farcical situations.
Read this wonderful book and will will enjoy each sentence and page of it. Brendon is extremely skilled with words, and his opus has plenty of vignettes ,metaphors, anecdotes and lots of humour.Add all these to his vivid language and well- structured chapters containing depictions of folly and decadence, irony and devastation and will immediately want to re-read this superb piece of history.
Brendon is describing the atrocities perpetrated by the British in many instances, such as the Amritsar butchery- all this in the name of progress and Western ideals.His twenty-two chapters are treated both chronologically and are divided thematically by the respective countries where the British had ruled.
It is a pity that the editor did not include some maps showing the inexperienced reader where many exotic places are to be found.
The only conclusion the reader comes after reading this book is that occupation of others is a crime against humanity-no matter where, when and how.The human race has always aspired for freedom and there was not, is not,and will never be a force in history to alter this.
In short: this book will be the ultimate reference source, the alpha and omega of the decline and fall of the British Empire for years to come.
This is a masterpiece with thousands of eccentricities and odd fellows swimming throughout its pages.Enjoy!
The message of Piers Brendon's magnificent history of the British Empire is that its fall was inevitable and that that is the fate of all other empires, past and future. Because empires are founded on brutality and illegitimacy, says Brendon, their fault lines in the end prove too great. Brendon starts his account of the British Empire's fall with defeat at Yorktown in the American War of Independence - more than a century before the Empire reached its geographical apogee - because it was in America that the trust between Britain and its colonial peoples was first undermined. He carries on through the watershed of the 1857 Indian Mutiny and the 19th-century colonisation of Africa. The First World War badly shook the edifice, the Second World War sent it crashing down: in the two decades following 1945 Britain went from an empire of 700m people to one with very few subjects indeed. Something of Brendon's ambition can be seen in his Gibbon-echoing title and it's not hubris: this is a wonderful piece of narrative history.
Somewhere in the celestial academy where such matters are decreed, it was long since decided that the Roman Empire was the model for all its Western successors. Russia's czars borrowed their title from the Caesars and designated Moscow as a Third Rome (Constantinople being the second). Germany's kaisers donned the same robes, as 19th-century Berlin evolved into a facsimile of classical Rome. The Roman shadow is even more pervasive in Washington, with its many-pillared temples and equestrian warriors, its senators on Capitol Hill reciting sonorous Latinisms (quorum, sine die, casus belli, to the point that weary auditors sometimes murmur ad nauseam). Yet nobody has surpassed the British in their fixation with the empire to which their island was once a barbarous lesser appendage. Their monarchs are profiled on coins as if they were Caesars, and for generations the image of Britannia, armed with spear, defended the copper penny. Small wonder their fascination with Edward Gibbon's magisterial History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Among the merits of Piers Brendon's splendid work -- which the author stresses is not meant to rival its forebear -- is its persuasive demonstration that Britons have repeatedly searched for omens in the pages of Gibbon. Was it only chance, pessimists wondered, that the first volume of Decline and Fall appeared in the revolutionary year 1776, and that the fifth and final one reached readers in 1787, heralding the imminent and ignoble British surrender at Yorktown? Humiliated by ragged American rebels, some "almost barefoot," British officers behaved there like "whipped schoolboys" (as Brendon relates), while their commander, Gen. Charles Cornwallis, abjectly pleaded illness to avoid showing up. As former colonials watched in stony silence, a British military band played a dirge titled "The World Turned Upside Down." To be sure, in succeeding decades the world turned right side up for Great Britain. By conquest and/or cash, the East India Company devoured much of India (partly under Cornwallis as governor-general). British forces reached deep into the Pacific to humble the Chinese, seize Australia and New Zealand, and subdue Malaya. In the Mediterranean, having crucially secured Gilbraltar, Britain absorbed Malta, Corfu and Cyprus. Imperial strategists wisely heeded the lessons of Yorktown and pragmatically conceded substantial self-rule to Canada and other white-settler dominions. In an 1875 coup, the British acquired control of the French-built Suez Canal and, to protect it, invaded and occupied Egypt in 1882 -- the prelude to a thrust deep into Africa that inspired dreams of British dominance from Cape to Cairo. By the time Queen Victoria celebrated her diamond jubilee in 1897, her overseas realm was the largest known to history, encompassing nearly a fourth of the world's population and its habitable lands. In a final spurt after World War I, much of the Middle East (and its oil) also fell to Britain, as did entire slabs of formerly German-ruled Africa; thus at its territorial peak, the empire was seven times bigger than Rome's. And yet . . . and yet, in half a century, a mere wink in historical time, the great empire was but a memory, as foreshadowed by Gibbon. Once India attained its independence in 1947, nearly every other colony that mattered followed suit. Such is the story graphically narrated by Brendon, a Cambridge University scholar and former keeper of the Churchill archives. His book is in no sense an apologia; it is history with the nasty bits left in. Not one massacre, civil war, famine, racist outrage, covert trick or egregious human-rights abuse is passed over. His chronicle thus serves as a useful counterpoint to the generally upbeat accounts of Britain's imperial era, notably Harvard professor Niall Ferguson's well-written yet almost nostalgic encomiums. Brendon supplements but does not supplant Jan Morris's irresistibly readable Pax Britannica trilogy, published in the 1970s, the critical yet fair-minded standard by which new entries should be judged. This Decline And Fall is strongest in its details; the author seemingly has scoured every available memoir for devastating quips, nicknames, anecdotes, rumors and shrewd assessments. Consider his description of Prime Minister Anthony Eden, prime mover of the 1956 Suez fiasco: "The son of a half-mad baronet and an exceedingly beautiful woman, Eden was said to be a bit of both. He veered between consuming vanity and crippling self-doubt. . . . After succeeding the octogenarian Churchill in April 1955, he writhed at charges that he was inclined to dither and scuttle, that he was incapable of administering the smack of firm government. One journalist wrote that when he made the emphatic gesture of punching his fist into the palm of his hand, no sound was heard. Another said that his words of command had all the dynamism of a radio 'talk on the place of the potato in British folklore.' " One wishes that Brendon had more clearly spelled out the implications of the empire's fall for Americans. As he stresses, it was not simply a war-weakened economy that sped the empire's demise after 1945: "At its heart was a betrayal of the civilized values which the British claimed to espouse," an increasing reliance on coercion even as the empire's paladins extolled rule of law and fair play. This has an obvious resonance for Americans who believe they are on a providential mission to lead and reform an incorrigible world. The British, too, were convinced of their exceptional gift of governance, with a hint of divine approbation. And, as detailed in these pages, there were indeed mitigating benefits for the ruled. But white dominions aside, the final exit was commonly messy and often tragic. In India/Pakistan, Malaya, Ceylon, Singapore, Burma, Palestine, Iraq, Egypt, Cyprus, Aden, Kenya, Uganda, Rhodesia, Sudan, Ghana, Nigeria and Ireland, the end of British rule proved a prelude to civil strife, violent partition, military coups, autocracy and virulent racism. This happened to an imperial power whose sons and daughters willingly settled overseas, learned local languages and endured disease on behalf of a shared creed. Brendon's account, especially of the Middle East, provides a cautionary text for a new administration that will inherit autocratic allies, penal colonies, reliance on coercive air power, and pervasive cynicism about America's declared global aims.