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FEATURES How to create
insurgents Andrew Gilmour says
that the Boer War and the war in Iraq are united by humbug, jingoism
and hubris Yes, we all know; comparisons between the British
empire and contemporary American power are old hat. Nevertheless,
certain aspects of the Boer War and the war in Iraq — though fought
in different centuries, hemispheres and circumstances — present food
for thought.
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‘Can I borrow your
placard?’ | Britain’s decision to go to war 104 years ago,
thousands of miles away, was seen as rooted partly in the question
of how South Africa’s massive natural wealth was going to be used.
Would it buttress the forces of good in the world (the British
empire) or those of evil (anyone else)? Stressing the similarity
with the US today, the historian of empire Niall Ferguson has
written that Britain unfailingly acted in the name of liberty, even
when its own self-interest was manifestly uppermost — therefore, the
grab to control the goldfields was clothed in stirring ideals such
as democracy and human rights. Referring to his fellow-writer’s
passionate belief in the war, Joseph Conrad said, ‘If I am to
believe Kipling, this is a war undertaken for the cause of
democracy. C’est à crever de rire’.
After several excuses
were concocted and believed by a public who fanatically supported
the war, tens of thousands of British troops set sail for South
Africa in October 1899, expecting to be home by Christmas. Early
defeats were apparently rectified in 1900, the commander-in-chief
Lord Roberts declaring that the war was ‘practically over’.
Colleagues of Roberts, struck by his naive belief that he was
fighting a conventional war and that capturing the capital and
exiling the president would suffice, warned him that guerrilla
warfare would break out in the districts left behind during the
rapid advance. They were ignored.
It was immediately
recognised that Britain had blundered by underrating the enemy’s
persistence. The war seemed to be over, but huge British armies
(supplemented by the Dominions who were anxious to prove their
devotion and contributed about 10 per cent of the troops) soon
became tied down by roaming irregulars who melted into the
population and carried out raids ‘inspired in the hope of vengeance,
rather than victory’. The struggle degenerated, in James Morris’s
words, into a messy and inglorious manhunt, soured by recriminations
and reprisals, executions in the field, arson and broken oaths.
To smash Boer resistance, the British adopted brutal and
shortsighted tactics, winning hearts and minds not being Kitchener’s
forte, or priority. Lord Milner, the proconsul in charge of post-war
occupation and reconstruction, was determined to use the opportunity
to spread his country’s influence throughout the region in order to
turn it into a source of political and economic strength. His
intention was to rule without popular participation and to crush
Afrikaner nationalism. The only problem was that Johnny Boer didn’t
want his nationalism crushed. And in the words of one historian, far
from destroying it, Milner and Kitchener ‘were the greatest
recruiting agents it ever had’. The British also had to contend with
local religious leaders who continued to whip up resistance to the
occupation.
The result was that guerrilla warfare made much
of the country ungovernable, and 22,000 imperial soldiers lost their
lives in an exercise that cost British taxpayers an astronomical (at
the time) £200 million (about £13 billion in today’s money).
At the beginning of the war, Britain was gripped by
unquestioning national paranoia and jingoism. One of its
cheerleaders proudly wrote that such was the wave of feeling over
the country that it was impossible to hold a peace meeting anywhere
without a certainty of riot and denunciations of treachery. Not all,
however, succumbed to the collective madness. The Labour MP Keir
Hardie, for instance, believed that the jingoism was fomented by
business leaders in the hope that working men, blinded by patriotic
fever for foreign wars, would forget about growing economic
inequalities at home.
Meanwhile, the occupying power’s
feelings of righteousness were shared by virtually nobody else.
Although no foreign government assisted the Boers, hundreds of
volunteers came to fight beside them. Public opinion everywhere was
massively anti-British. The Tsar and Leo Tolstoy each made similar
comments about their passionate joy of reading news of British
defeats, while the former flirted with the idea of a
French–German–Russian alliance against the superpower of the day.
All the while, the British were bone-headedly
uncomprehending that what to them was justified self-sacrifice could
appear to others like bullying, sanctimonious greed. Some of the
schadenfreude over the British getting their come-uppance was
hypocritical — Ibsen wondered incredulously if Europeans could
really be on the side of Kruger’s bible-bashing bigotry. (In today’s
circumstances, it would be similarly bizarre if anti-war opinion
were to derive much enjoyment from the war party’s discomfiture at
the hands of reconstituted Baathists and the Taleban.)
Sir
Brian Urquhart has written how the occupation of Iraq, a vast
increase in US military spending, Washington’s rejection of
important international treaties and its unconcealed contempt for
international organisations and conventions have created uproar and
foreboding in many parts of the world. The future South African
Prime Minister JC Smuts described Britain’s violation of every
international law as ‘very characteristic of the nation which always
plays the role of chosen judge over the actions and behaviour of all
other nations’. And there was almost universal moral revulsion over
Britain’s internment camps for Boer families, which has continued in
some quarters to this day.
The US neoconservatives, says
Anatole Lieven, have made it clear that they want to see ‘a
long-term imperial war against any part of the Muslim world which
defies the US and Israel’. It was recently asked in the New York
Times whether President Bush ever wondered if the neocons had duped
him and hijacked his foreign policy. (Salisbury privately felt he
had been bounced into the Boer War by Milner, whose fault it was
that ‘we have to act upon a moral field prepared for us by him and
his jingo supporters — and all for people whom we despise’.)
Excessive hubris and underpreparation were charges levelled
at the British, with Kipling raging against the ‘bullock-stupidity’
of this ‘bum-headed army’. The late Hugo Young commented as early as
last May on the lack of planning for the post-victory phase. Not
only, he said, was it not foreseen that Iraqis would turn to
guerrilla warfare, but the US didn’t bring policemen, let alone
nation-builders, ‘and its first cohort of proconsuls has already
been deemed incompetent and sent home’.
At the beginning of
the Boer War, the British public was bamboozled by imperial
hardliners. But in the face of lengthy guerrilla warfare, the
haemorrhaging of national wealth, and sustained moral criticism of
British strategy and tactics, the jingoism eventually dissipated.
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote an instant history, The Great
Boer War, expressing incredulity that anyone could doubt the just
and essential nature of Britain’s cause. Could it be shown, he
rhetorically asked, that there was not ‘ adequate cause’ behind the
war, surely it was certain that ‘an explosion of rage from the
deceived and the bereaved’ would have already driven the ministers
responsible ‘for ever from public life?’
For what it’s
worth, Salisbury won the ‘khaki election’ of 1900, and the
Conservatives stayed in power until 1905. Still, this week’s welcome
moves by the US towards improved co-operation with the United
Nations in Iraq could perhaps reflect a growing belief that what lay
behind Conan Doyle’s question may need addressing, very fast.
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