Jeremy Paxman has written an excellent book, but it is not the book that he set out to write. His central argument is that, since the empire had a formative influence on modern India, it must also have had a formative influence on modern Britain. If it influenced the colonised, it must have influenced the colonisers.
It was precisely because empire had never been a popular project that we were able to surrender it so easily without the traumas that assailed the French in Algeria or the Belgians in the Congo. ‘Think imperially,’ Churchill begged the Dominions before 1939, but neither they nor the British people were willing to do so. ‘I think I can save the British empire from anything,’ Churchill told his private secretary sadly at the end of his life, ‘except the British.’
‘England without an empire!’ Joseph Chamberlain had declared in his last political speech in 1914, ‘Can you conceive it? England in that case would not be the England that we love. It would be a fifth-rate nation, existing on the sufferance of its more powerful neighbours.’ Paxman believes that it is because of the empire that we have found it so difficult to play ‘a more useful and effective role in the world’. But perhaps the British people did not seek such a role. Exhausted by two world wars, they preferred to remain ostriches rather than lions, rejoicing that they continue to live in a relatively peaceable kingdom, and resenting such ties with foreigners that the political elites have decided are good for them. So Paxman’s ostensible theme is based on a misconception.
Fortunately, however, he does not stick to it. Despite its subtitle, his book is less about what the empire did to Britain than what Britain did to the empire. What really interests Paxman is not so much Britain, but the empire and how it came to be. The history of empire is of course a well-worn story, and he does not pretend to add anything new to it. His gift is to clothe what are essentially conventional views in exciting language. Professional historians have been much concerned with explaining imperialism, but Paxman eschews explanation for vivid description. He writes with wit and penetration, and every page of Empire can be read with relaxed pleasure.
It is impressionistic history at its best, and enlivened by interviews, perhaps the most remarkable of which is that with the great-grandson of the Mahdi, God’s elect, whose Muslim forces drove the British out of the Sudan in 1885, killing Gordon in the process. The great-grandson was an Oxford-educated former Prime Minister of the Sudan, and regarded his ancestor as ‘a sufi who denied the material world’. ‘I forgot to ask him,’ Paxman reports drily, ‘quite how that worked with the Mahdi’s reputed 70 wives.’
Paxman’s view of empire is, as one might expect from his acidulous performances on Newsnight, sardonic and critical, more Lytton Strachey than John Buchan; and it is true that among the empire-builders was a fair share of murderers, predators and rogues. ‘If our ancestors had cared for the rights of other people,’ declared the great Lord Salisbury, ‘the empire would not have been made’.
But Paxman gives insufficient credit to the transformation of empire, a relationship based on domination, into Commonwealth, a freely chosen relationship of equality, something which no other imperial power has been able to secure, and now a powerful force for democratisation in Africa and Asia. Most stable third-world democracies, after all, were once part of the British empire, and the idea of parliamentary government has proved by far our most successful export.