Colonialism

The Guardian dumps British tea

So now we know just how serious the Guardian is about breaking America: the newspaper has dumped British tea. Not content with the declaration of war on HP Sauce last year, the sandal-wearing bores have found a new enemy lurking within British society: dirty, racist tea. Joel Golby (who writes about ‘general stuff for VICE and the Guardian Guide’) today shines the light of progressive thought on this ‘national disgrace’. Liking tea is – apparently – ‘the worst possible English trait, up there with colonialism and the class system’. No, they’re really going with this: ‘Liking tea has its roots in colonialism, but making a big thing of enjoying it now is somehow worse.

The turbulent reign of King Cotton: the dark history of one of the world’s most important commodities

If not for cotton, we would still be wearing wool. To equal current cotton production, we would need seven billion sheep, and a field 1.6 times the area of the EU. Capitalism has spared us this itching, bleating nightmare. But capitalism, Sven Beckert writes in his hair-shirted history, Empire of Cotton, has wrought other horrors. For medieval Europeans, cotton was a luxury import. Prices fell as Europe’s maritime empires bypassed the Ottoman middleman. They fell further after the 1780s, when the East India Company increased its imports, and British inventors developed water-powered spinning machines. Cotton became the first global commodity, woven into the ‘triangular trade’ that shuttled African slaves to

Only tourists think of the Caribbean as a ‘paradise’

A couple of years ago in Jamaica, I met Errol Flynn’s former wife, the screen actress Patrice Wymore. Reportedly a difficult and withdrawn woman, her life in the Caribbean (apart from the few details she cared to volunteer) could only be guessed at. The Errol Flynn estate, an expanse of ranchland outside Port Antonio, was grazed by tired-looking cattle. ‘Haven’t we met before?’ Wymore said to me as I walked into her office after knocking. ‘You remind me of someone I know.’ I took in the riding crops and spurs hanging on the wall. After eight years of marriage, in 1958 Wymore had divorced Flynn, who died the following year

Why I won’t let my children learn French

[audioplayer src=”http://traffic.libsyn.com/spectator/TheViewFrom22_27_March_2014.mp3″ title=”Liam Mullone and Freddy Gray debate whether it’s a good idea to let children learn French” startat=1467] Listen [/audioplayer]My children won’t learn French. If their school tries to force the issue, I’ll fight tooth and nail. There’ll be the mother of all Agincourts before I let it happen. It’s not that I have any problem with the language, even though it has too many vowels and you have to say 99 as ‘four-twenty-ten-nine’, making it impossible (I imagine) to sing that song about red balloons. It’s just that I want my children to be successful, and learning French makes no business sense. There’s a moral issue too, but

The New Colonials can raise our sights beyond the Channel

There’s a quiet Colonial takeover of British public life going on. An Australian, Lynton Crosby is in charge of the Tories’ political strategy. A South African, Ryan Coeztee performs this role for the Liberal Democrats and the deputy Prime Minister. While a Canadian, Mark Carney is Governor of the Bank of England and, arguably, the single most economically power figure in Britain. I argue in The Spec this week that the rise of these New Colonials tells us something important about this country, its flaws and its place in the world. Crosby, Coetzee and Carney are, in some ways, the missing meritocrats. They are filling a gap in British public

Katie Kitamura interview

Gone to the Forest is Katie Kitamura’s second novel, about a family and the cost of European colonization in an unknown time and place. Tom and his father live on a farm in a country that recalls, at first and most often, J.M Coetzee’s South Africa. It is on the brink of civil war. The novel opens with a broadcast by the land’s natives, which Tom overhears on a radio that has been left, eerily, on the homestead’s verandah. The men’s strained relationship is compounded when a sly young woman, Carine, comes to live with them. Their sinister dealings with each other, the other white farmers and servants expose the