Assessing the Mindset Imperial British Fiction

The High Imperial era of Britain was, like any other historical era, heavily chronicled and mythologized by writers of the time. It was one of Britain's most dynamic and defining passages, and consequently generated a proliferation of written works. One of the most defining characteristics of the literature of Imperial Britain is the ubiquitous self-deception and arrogance underpinning and essential to the Imperial ethos.

The High period of British Imperialism was marked by a more aggressive and militant form of conquest than that of the Low Period, which centered around a largely mercantile approach. Rather than focusing on establishing exclusive markets and trade routes, Britain began to actively seize territories from indigenous peoples, most often by means of force, and to secure their control by means of military and governmental presence. By this means, Britain ensured its preexisting trade routes in colonized territories, and was able to generate new capital.

A prime example of this method of occupation is to be observed in Joseph Conrad's work of short fiction, "An Outpost of Progress." Through this piece, Conrad exposes the attitudes and presuppositions held by Britain, and indeed all white colonizers, in respect to natives of their colonized lands. By offering a self-conscious portrayal of Imperialist exploitation of native lands for their trade and raw materials, and more importantly, the arguments that colonizers employ to justify this otherwise blatant exploitation, Conrad exposes the self-contradictory and paradoxical nature of Imperialism that it seeks to conceal. For instance, the two white protagonists of the piece are immediately revealed to be complete incompetents by the director's frank (and accurate) appraisal of their worth: "Look at those two imbeciles. They must be mad at home to send me such specimens. I told those fellows to plant a vegetable garden, build new storehouses and fences, and construct a landing stage. I bet nothing will be done! I always thought the station on this river was useless, and they just fit the station!" The director's absolute lack of confidence in the two men to be in charge of a trading post for six months, and his willingness to station them there in spite of their obvious inadequacy, to "be rid of them for six months," serves as a criticism of British Imperialism on the whole: Conrad felt that it was an enterprise driven entirely by greed and the lust for power, with no regard for human life.

Conrad also addresses the presuppositions regarding race commonly held by Imperial Britain, and by the vast majority of all white societies of the era. He underscores the ignorance and shortsightedness of racism, and its role as a tool to assuage pangs of Imperial guilt in a number of ways. Most evident is the cast of characters he employs; the only whites to occupy textual space in the story are either incompetents or uncaring cogs in the imperial machine. Kayerts and Carlier exist in their own ignorant world, buoyed by their sense of superiority, and quite cut off from the reality around them.

Their misguided sense of invulnerability and authority is evident in the scene in which Kayerts and Carlier are observing a group of natives. The two look on the newly-arrived group of warrior-tribesmen as though judging livestock: "Fine animals," says Carlier. "Look at the muscles of that fellow - third from the end. I wouldn't care to get a punch on the nose from him. Fine arms, but legs no good below the knee. Couldn't make cavalry men of them." Rather than recognize and admit his own vulnerability and his position of weakness, Carlier analyzes the natives based on purely physical criteria. Also, by proclaiming that the natives wouldn't make good cavaliers, Carlier attempts to reclaim control over his situation and surroundings by considering them in European terms. The warriors of the vast majority of African tribes did not domesticate horses, and therefore fought on foot. The assertion that the warriors would make poor cavalrymen is not only mere conjecture, it also reveals a central aspect of Imperialism; the institution of judging civilizations to be colonized by the standards of the colonizer is essential to the Imperial mindset, and a central method of justification for Imperialism. If a civilization, or better yet, an entire race of people can be deemed inferior, then it is a logical, even philanthropic venture to take them under the Imperial wing. The colonized will gain the boons of civilization: communication, roads, monotheism, industry, and a place in the world economy, all courtesy of the magnanimity of the superior, world-wise white man. The colonizers will, in turn, receive a greater appreciation for the spirituality and almost child-like naivety of the colonized, and come to understand his culture in a symbiotic relationship.

However, this grand illusion is instantly shattered by the prevalence of uprisings and large-scale rebellions that must be quelled by the colonizer's military presence. If Imperialism truly were a mutually beneficial institution, founded upon the willing exchange of goods and knowledge, there would be no need for force. A second fallacy common to the majority of British Imperial writings is the concept of the white man as an object of intense interest and admiration, almost idolization, for the native. The view of the British white man as something unusual and exotic is furthered by the additional fallacy that he is also a rarity, a kind of diamond in the rough. A prime example of this notion is to be found in the writings of David Livingstone and Henry Morton Stanley. The autobiographical writings of the two men both describe their famous, much-mythologized meeting in the heart of Africa. The perceived momentousness of the occasion stems entirely from the fact that two white men have met in the heart of blackest Africa. The writings of Livingstone and, particularly, Stanley sensationalize the event, establishing at as a moment of historical gravity, two solitary white points of civilization converging in a sea of black. The entirety of this narrative hinges upon the notion that whites are of greater intrinsic worth than blacks, partially because they are such a rarity. In Stanley's journal, for instance, he documents one of the natives' (likely fictionalized) statements on the exoticism of the encounter: "It is true - yes, by Allah, it is true and there is no lie in it. There are two white men today, where only one sat yesterday... I wonder whether there are many more white men in this world?"

However, the notion of whites as a commodity is absurd. Whites were to the world population what diamonds are to Africa; the British empire was composed of millions of whites, many of which (such as the working class) were attributed relatively little value. However, when removed from an all-white environment and viewed in contrast to non-whites, any white man takes on a comparatively greater value. The notion of the white man as intrinsically more valuable than the non-white, as well as any other arguments in favor of Imperialism, all rest upon the genetic fallacy that is its cornerstone: that non-whites are inherently, biologically inferior. They are less evolved than whites, and are therefore fit to be ruled by them. However, all reputable scientific findings of modern times have disproved this notion, revealing it as nothing more than the self-deception that is so central to the Imperial mindset, and that allows is to persist even to this day.