In a recent history class, I was confronted with the essay topic, “Lord Cromer was a successful consul-general of Egypt. To what extent do you agree?” This prompted me to reflect on the meaning of “success.” Was it truly a success to impose austerity measures on Egyptians solely to benefit British financiers? Or to attempt to civilize a population he deemed as “subversive demagogues” and “subject races”?
Fortunately, I could argue that Cromer’s tenure was not successful if I framed “success” in terms of his influence on the Egyptian populace, given that he enforced an inequitable land tax system and limited educational opportunities. However, the underlying assumption remained that colonial rulers could be deemed successful for the populations they governed, though Cromer failed in that regard. This raises a critical question: why do discussions surrounding Cromer and his ideals not focus more on the legitimacy of colonial rule itself?
Like many British secondary school students, I have memorized numerous historical facts, including the reigns of monarchs and specifics of Cold War treaties from my GCSE studies. This is not a grievance; I acknowledge the importance of all historical knowledge. Nevertheless, there is a wealth of history that is equally, if not more, significant that is often overlooked in our educational systems. The essay prompt concerning Cromer highlights another issue: when British colonial history is examined, the emphasis is frequently on the effectiveness of the British colonial administration rather than questioning the very foundations of colonialism.
At its core, the study of history involves exploring the past and piecing together knowledge to create an accurate representation of events. This requires considering diverse experiences and viewpoints while challenging established narratives. The approach to colonial history in schools across England and Wales does not achieve this objective. Our curricula often glorify “great men” while neglecting the voices of those who were colonized. Despite Michael Gove’s tenure as education secretary ending twelve years ago, we are still fixated on the achievements of imperial “heroes” rather than examining colonial history through the lens of its victims.
For instance, in my Edexcel module titled “Britain: losing and gaining an empire, 1763-1914,” our A-level studies of the 1857 Indian uprising focus on the “strengths” and “weaknesses” of British governors, while the catastrophic role they played in the 1770 Great Bengal Famine, which resulted in the deaths of 10 million people, is glaringly absent from the curriculum.
Why do our history curricula continue to exhibit selective amnesia? Is it a fear of undermining British identity? If so, this fear is unfounded. Consider how Germany confronts its challenging history. The concept of Vergangenheitsbewältigung, or “working off the past,” has only served to strengthen the nation. In Berlin, one can find numerous plaques, memorials, and museums dedicated to the Holocaust, fostering a genuine understanding of historical injustices.
The repercussions of British colonialism, from the Balfour Declaration to the Great Irish Famine, continue to echo around the globe. Many former colonies are far more knowledgeable about and critically engaged with our shared history than we are in Britain, as evidenced by the varied reactions to the queen’s death in 2022 across the Commonwealth. Historian David Olusoga aptly notes that British history has “always been a dialogue,” yet many in Britain perceive it as a monologue. This selective memory does not fortify British identity; rather, it creates division by excluding and erasing the voices of those historically silenced. This issue is present not only on a global scale but also within the classroom, where many students are descendants of the very history that textbooks overlook.
Teaching about the British Empire may be challenging and uncomfortable, especially when shifting the narrative from its perceived “successes” to its human costs. There may be resistance from those who romanticize imperialism. However, these challenges are insufficient justification for perpetuating ignorance.
As the late scholar-activist Ambalavaner Sivanandan noted regarding post-colonial migration, “We are here because you were there.” This fundamental truth was never part of my educational experience. Instead, I have turned to books and podcasts to learn about this topic, as the national curriculum has largely failed me. While there are optional GCSE modules on migration and empire, only a small fraction of students—4%—choose to take them. A-level modules on empire, such as mine, remain deeply flawed, placing history teachers in a moral quandary. They must either select less popular GCSE modules with potentially unreliable resources or adhere to a restrictive A-level specification that risks hampering student performance amidst an already overwhelming workload.
Ultimately, our education system appears to be designed to hinder a comprehensive understanding of the British Empire, which should concern us all. This lack of knowledge benefits far-right ideologies, as anti-immigration sentiments thrive in an environment of historical ignorance. Claims of Britain being “colonized” by migrant “invasions” gain traction when the realities of colonization are not taught, and the vilification of migrants persists due to a lack of awareness of the essential and beneficial roles that migration has played in British history.
However, classrooms can serve as a powerful counter to these narratives. By teaching students about colonial history and clarifying that migration is a complex and significant phenomenon, we can equip future generations with the knowledge necessary to understand these issues critically.
As I prepare to take my history A-levels in June, I am faced with the absurd prospect of writing an essay on the “successes” of a Victorian imperialist like Cromer instead of engaging with broader questions surrounding empire. My hope is that future history students will not share this experience. With a recent review of the curriculum suggesting a much-needed overhaul of what is taught in schools, now is the perfect opportunity for transformative change.
