IMPERIALIST LEGITIMATION THEORIES: CHRISTIANITY, A SUPERIOR CIVILIZATION, AND THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN
In its search for a legitimation theory Spain fell back on the old medieval theory of the “just war” waged by Christians against the infidels. The “infidels,” in this case, were not Muslims, but pagans. An additional argument was found in the fact that the population of the Caribbean included cannibals, which was considered a reason for them to be enslaved. Thus, in this early period the Christian faith and the superiority of Europe’s civilization were used as arguments to support imperialist rule. In Western Europe the inherent hypocrisy of these theories began to be attacked in the eighteenth century when Enlightenment philosophers, such as Voltaire and Diderot, formulated the first fundamental criticism of slavery and colonial rule.[2] These critical voices found resonance in the nineteenth century, when a widely supported anti-slavery movement emerged. This led to a new legitimation theory, the theory of the white man’s burden, which was the result of the bad conscience caused by the new moral criticism. It became more difficult to legitimate imperialist expansion by referring to the Christian faith (in both its catholic, as well as its protestant variants). In the words of John Kenneth Galbraith,
[Colonialism’s] real motives, were they stated, would be altogether too uncouth, selfish or obscene. So where colonization has involved people—where it has not meant merely the appropriation and settlement of unused lands—the colonialists have almost always seen themselves as the purveyors of some transcendental moral, spiritual, political or social worth. The reality [however] has as regularly included a considerable component of pecuniary interest, real or anticipated, for important participants.[3]
The bad conscience about colonial practice that emerged in the nineteenth century necessitated the forging of a new legitimation theory in which the concept of moral duty had a central place. This was especially the case in protestant countries, such as Britain and the Netherlands. This new legitimation theory was dubbed the white man’s burden,[4] because imperialist expansion was considered not so much an interest- and profit-driven exploitation of foreign countries and foreign peoples, but rather a civilizing mission. Of course this civilizing mission had already played a role when the Christian faith was used as a legitimation theory. But then the emphasis was still on the spiritual salvation of the indigenous populations by their conversion to Christianity. Now this legitimation theory was turned upside down: what was at stake was not their spiritual salvation in the afterlife, but their earthly salvation here and now. The colonial ruler—far from being an oppressor and exploiter—was a helper and a coach of native populations, bringing them the benefits of modern governance, modern transport systems, modern industry and trade, and, in addition, the whole rich Western culture that became available to local elites by giving them access to higher education. In 1897 H. F. Wyatt, the founder of the British Imperial Maritime League, wrote:
In Asia and in Africa great native populations have passed under our hands. To us—to us, and not to others, a certain definite duty has been assigned. To carry light and civilization into the dark places of the world; to touch the mind of Asia and of Africa with the ethical ideas of Europe; to give to thronging millions, who would otherwise never know peace or security, these first conditions of human advance….[5] To sustain worthily the burden of empire is the task manifestly appointed to Britain, and therefore to fulfil that task is her duty, as it should also be her delight.[6]
The young Winston Churchill, twenty-two years old, delivered his first political speech in Bath in the same year (1897). He told his audience “that our determination is to uphold the Empire that we have inherited from our fathers as Englishmen,” adding: “we shall continue to pursue that course marked out for us by an all-wise hand and carry out our mission of bearing peace, civilization and good government to the uttermost ends of the earth.”[7] Was this merely a new hypocrisy replacing the old? One might be tempted to reply in the affirmative. However, this is not completely true. Galbraith, for instance, stressed the important role Britain played in building a Rechtsstaat in India. Introducing a functioning independent and impartial judiciary in this large country was, indeed, a matter of great historical progress.
“The new faith was law,” wrote Galbraith. “The British were in India to trade and make money. There was nothing wrong with that. But the redeeming purpose was to bring government according to law. It was an idea of genuine power.”[8] “Largely in consequence,” he continued, “India was one of the best-governed countries in the world. Persons and property were safe. Thought and speech were more secure than in recent times. There was effective action to arrest famine and improve communications. The courts functioned impartially and to the very great pleasure of the litigiously-minded Indians.”[9] And Galbraith concluded: “The British rulers were snobbish, race-conscious and often arrogant. But if colonialism could anywhere have been considered a success (the empty lands always apart), it was in India.”[10]
At the end of the nineteenth century the theory of the white man’s burden became widely accepted in the Netherlands also. Here it was called de ethische koers (the ethical course). This “ethical course” was intended to repair the historical ereschuld (honorable debt) to the indigenous populations.[11] It is telling that even a Dutch socialist MP, Henri van Kol, who, in 1901, in an article in the press had severely attacked the imperialist policies of the Dutch government, was much more positive after a visit to the Dutch Indies (Indonesia) some years later. In a report he wrote of having felt “a feeling of pride” during his visit: “There is over there something great and noble being achieved.”[12] According to the Dutch sociologist Van Doorn, “this sense of mission, the feeling of being ‘responsible’ for Indonesia grew between the world wars to almost mythical proportions.”[13] The Dutch were even praised by outsiders:
In the 1920s American perceptions of Dutch colonial rule had been positive, even if such assessments were colored by paternalistic, racial overtones. Consul-General Chas Hoover spoke approvingly of Dutch colonial rule over the “apathetically conservative people of these islands.” His successor argued that “the whites—particularly the 30,000 Dutch who are doing it—are experts in the art of government” who were willing to “discuss with friendly interest the aspirations of the brown people to learn how to govern themselves.”[14]
Although recognizing the fact that “every empire has been both Jekyll and Hyde,”[15] ex-colonial powers, generally, have stressed the credit balance of their imperial rule. However, at the beginning of the twentieth century the sociologist Vilfredo Pareto, who was anything but a pure democrat, criticized the hypocrisy of the European powers. “An Englishman, a Frenchman, a Belgian, an Italian,” he wrote, “when he fights and dies for his fatherland, is a hero; but an African, when he dares to defend his fatherland against these nations, is a vile rebel and a traitor. And the Europeans carry out their holy duty to destroy the Africans, as, for instance in the Congo, in order to teach them to be civilized.”[16] Despite the moral self-satisfaction of the former colonial powers concerning the supposed blessings of their colonial rule, it is good to remember the words of Aimé Césaire, the founder of the négritude movement in France, who wrote:
2
Voltaire, in his satirical novel
4
The expression “the white man’s burden” came from the 1899 poem by Rudyard Kipling in which he appealed to the United States to shoulder Britain’s imperial responsibilities:
(Quoted in Niall Ferguson,
5
H. F. Wyatt, “The Ethics of Empire,” April 1897, in
7
Quoted in Martin Gilbert,
10
Galbraith,
11
In 1923, when this policy was at its apogee, the Dutch historian C. Te Lintum wrote: “The ethical course or enlightened despotism that had, since 1870 (at least officially), replaced the old egoistic exploitation policy, had also brought for the native more transport facilities and more education, especially on Java.” (C. Te Lintum,
12
Cf. J. A. A. van Doorn,
13
Van Doorn,
14
Hendrik Spruyt,
15
V. G. Kiernan,
16
Vilfredo Pareto,