Archive.org fails to bypass firewall, ghostarchive fails altogether, archive.today is not happy with my work IP today. Would appreciate anyone posting an archive link of sorts for everyone as I’ve found the write up very interesting.
Archive.org fails to bypass firewall, ghostarchive fails altogether, archive.today is not happy with my work IP today. Would appreciate anyone posting an archive link of sorts for everyone as I’ve found the write up very interesting.
The assertion that the British Empire withdrew from its colonies “more or less voluntarily and without firing too many shots” wilfully glosses over the numerous instances of violence, resistance, and conflict that characterised the end of British colonial rule in far too many regions.
Lest we forget:
Indian Subcontinent: The struggle for Indian independence was marked by significant unrest, protests, and acts of civil disobedience, most notably led by figures such as Mahatma Gandhi. The partition of British India into India and Pakistan in 1947 resulted in widespread communal violence and one of the largest mass migrations in history, with estimates of deaths ranging from several hundred thousand to two million people.
Kenya: The Mau Mau Uprising (1952-1960) was a violent campaign against British colonial rule. The British response was severe, with a state of emergency declared, widespread arrests, and the establishment of detention camps. The conflict resulted in thousands of deaths, primarily among the Kenyan rebels.
Cyprus: The island experienced a violent guerrilla campaign by EOKA (Ethniki Organosis Kyprion Agoniston) against British rule in the 1950s, which aimed to achieve unification with Greece. The British administration employed military force in response, leading to a period of violence and political turmoil.
Palestine: British withdrawal from the mandate of Palestine in 1948 was preceded by an extended period of Arab-Jewish conflict, including attacks against British forces by Jewish paramilitary groups like the Irgun and Lehi.
Malaya: The Malayan Emergency (1948-1960) saw a communist insurgency against British colonial rule, leading to a significant military response from the British and a prolonged period of conflict.
Aden and Yemen: British withdrawal in 1967 was preceded by years of violent insurgency and increasing pressure from nationalist groups.
In each of these cases, the process of decolonisation involved significant armed conflict, contrary to the article’s claim of a mostly peaceful withdrawal. While it is true that some territories achieved independence with less violence and through political negotiation, such as Ghana and some Caribbean islands, the overall picture of British decolonisation is one of a complex and often bloody struggle.
This is a non sequitur. Significant armed conflict doesn’t contradict a claim of mostly peaceful withdrawal.
There would only be a contradiction if the armed conflicts were in the majority. You’ve haven’t shown that. Or even claimed it. I don’t know why you’re saying the armed conflicts were contrary to the article’s claims.
A peaceful withdrawal implies a process largely devoid of violence, where decolonisation is negotiated and implemented without significant armed resistance or warfare.
However, the historical record demonstrates that armed conflicts during the British decolonisation were not merely sporadic or minor skirmishes, but rather substantial engagements with lasting consequences, such as those in Kenya, Malaya, Cyprus, and the violent partition of India and Palestine. These were not peripheral events but central episodes in the history of British decolonisation.
The scale and intensity of conflicts in these key regions mean that the term ‘mostly peaceful’ is at best an oversimplification, if not a misrepresentation.
I invite you to challenge the narrative of a predominantly peaceful withdrawal by highlighting that violence was a defining feature of the period, not a mere footnote. It is not just the number of conflicts but their intensity and impact that weigh against the claim of a ‘mostly peaceful’ process.
Decolonisation was a complex tapestry of events, and its violent threads are too significant to be dismissed or understated.
I disagree. The word “most” is about quantity. There’s no ambiguity.
The reduction of the British Empire’s end to a numerical game of ‘most’ territories withdrawing peacefully is an egregious simplification of history.
The term ‘peaceful’ is fundamentally inadequate to describe the decolonisation of the British Empire when its demise was punctuated by massacres, uprisings, and partitions that led to millions of deaths and massive displacements. It’s not just about how many, but which territories experienced violence and the extent of that violence. The partition of India alone, with its absolutely massive death toll and refugee crisis, overshadows any attempt to label the process as ‘mostly peaceful.’
The weight of these events in the historical balance is immense, and their legacy lingers in the affected regions to this day. The portrayal of British withdrawal as ‘mostly peaceful’ isn’t just a matter of poor semantics; it’s a distortion of history that disrespects the memory of those who suffered and fought against colonial rule.
The scale of violence in key regions fundamentally challenges the integrity of your claim, and the insistence on the word ‘most’ as a defence is not only intellectually dishonest but morally insensitive.
Of course. But that doesn’t change the fact that your criticism was wrong. You criticised the article by saying it was incorrect when that wasn’t the case. It doesn’t matter how egregious the article’s content is, you were still making a straw man argument. Do better please.
You’re confusing my defence of reason for defense of the British Empire.
It’s intellectually negligent to hide behind semantics when faced with the vivid realities of history. Your approach is not a defence of reason but an abdication of it.
The article’s simplification is a disservice to historical accuracy and to those who deserve to have the full story of their past acknowledged.
My criticism stands: the article’s content is not merely ‘egregious’ in its oversimplification—it’s irresponsible.
LOL
You’re right, but I think for the vastness of the empire it went down OKish.
The term “OKish” minimises the brutal conflicts and violence in many regions during decolonisation. It overlooks the experiences of those who lived through the upheaval, such as the bloody partition of India, the Mau Mau uprising in Kenya, and the Malayan Emergency.
“OKish” doesn’t account for the economic disruption and the social turmoil that many former colonies faced post-independence. The legacy of colonial economic policies had lasting impacts, often leaving countries with challenges such as poverty, inequality, and underdevelopment.
The effects of colonisation and the manner of decolonisation left deep psychological and cultural scars. Phrases like “OKish” do not capture the cultural dislocation, the identity crises, and the lasting interethnic conflicts that were, in part, a product of the arbitrary borders and social hierarchies established or exacerbated by colonial rule.
The use of such a term that implies a mild approval or acceptance glosses over the moral implications of colonialism, including the exploitation, subjugation, and dehumanisation of colonised peoples. It fails to acknowledge the sovereignty and right to self-determination of the colonised nations.
Saying the empire “went down OKish” removes agency from the colonised peoples, many of whom actively fought for and negotiated their independence. It wasn’t simply a matter of the British deciding to withdraw but rather a response to pressure from independence movements.
I reject assertions of selective memory or suggestions of a sanitised version of history that highlights less violent transitions while ignoring the instances where the end of British rule was accompanied by significant strife.
Saying “it went down OKish” lacks the necessary depth to accurately represent the historical reality of the empire’s dissolution and its enduring effects on the former colonies.
I think you’re sticking to my OKish a bit too much. I’m not denying anything. I’ve seen the collapse of the soviet union - I’d argue that also went doen OKish. My home country could’ve easily been eradicated, moved enmasse to Siberia, but it wasn’t.
Some tanks rolled over people, some buildings exploded, gangs went rampant, some military joined them. Idenity crisis is all too familiar. These things are all horrible, but there’s never a clean exit from an empire.
All I’m saying is that little death is OKish compared to total annihilation. Life does, historically, seem to be the price of freedom, unfortunately.
The term ‘OKish’ is wholly inappropriate when recounting the tumultuous end of the British Empire.
Equating decolonisation with the hypothetical extreme of ‘total annihilation’ sets a disturbingly low standard for historical evaluation. The ‘little death’ you mention is far from minor to those whose existences were ravaged by the imperial withdrawal.
The cost of liberty should never be tallied in lives lost to the reluctance of oppressive powers to cede control. To imply as much is to tacitly condone the very pillars of colonial subjugation that deprived innumerable individuals of their right to self-determination without violent conflict.
Our historical narrative must fully recognise the gravity of the past, and afford accuracy to the memories of those who suffered, who resisted, and who perished under the Empire’s shadow
You’re taking this very personally. Calm down.