‘Imperialism enabled the fossil fuel transformation of the world’

William Beinart is professor emeritus at the African Studies Centre and St Antony's College at Oxford University. He tells Times Evoke about how imperialism changed economies — and ecologies:
Empire meant the transformation of the environment in imperial or colonised areas — the processes that underpinned far-flung European maritime empires over the last 500 years were primarily economic. European countries sought raw materials and commodities of all kinds, from sugar to furs, cotton, wool, rubber, gold and oil. The pursuit of each had varying environmental impacts. Sugar plantations based on slave labour transformed the colonised islands of the Caribbean like Barbados. Very little of the indigenous ecology remained.

Similarly, beaver furs were in great demand for coats and hats in the West — for three centuries, fur traders pushing into Canada established commercial hunting among First Nations indigenous peoples. This devastated the beaver population — alongside, bison and buffaloes were also hunted to provide provisions along the trade routes. In Africa, elephants were relentlessly killed for ivory while whaling damaged marine populations. Wild- life was the primary sufferer of imperialism’s environmental impacts. Relationships between people and nature also changed, albeit differently in diverse places. The fur trade initially depended on indigenous skills for trapping, hunting, canoe-building and survival in that terrain. Imperialism caused both demographic devastation — and a change in attitude. First Nations societies gradually responded to opportunities from the fur trade and began hunting more systematically. In the last 50 years, there’s been an assertion of the idea of the relationship between preindus- trial indigenous people and nature being far more benign and respectful than the imperial or industrial gaze.

Interestingly, amidst frenzied exploitation, colonial forces often also tried to establish the conservation of nature, seeking to regulate the use of the environment. There were different strands to this concern. Over-exploitation threatened resources which were often the backbone of colonial revenues. The reservation of forests in 19th century India to safe-guard timber was a move to conserve a critical resource for Britain’s growing railways. Huge areas, eventually around 20% of British South Asia, were reserved — this also meant that indigenous access was curtailed to some degree. So, interventions by colonial states to save natural resources often brought severe exclusion as well, as outlined by scholars like Richard Grove and Mahesh Rangarajan.

Picture courtesy: iStock

There were also colonial attempts to protect wildlife by keeping people out of what later became national parks and reserves. That didn’t have such clear economic motivations. Scientists were involved and there was a growing aesthetic element to valuing wildlife, reflected in groups like the Penitent Butchers turning from slaughter to protection in the early 20th century. Today, as eco- tourism and natural history filmmaking grow, so does a more aesthetic appreciation of wildlife — and this also has imperial roots. Alongside, the roots of today’s climate crisis lie in imperialism too. Its systems of extraction and intensification of agriculture in colonised areas caused massive deforestation, degradation and diminishing biodiversity.

JUST HANGING ON: The colonial frenzy over fur nearly made beavers extinct. Picture courtesy: iStock
As I’ve written in the book ‘Environment and Empire’, the astonishingly rapid growth of colonial cities, especially ports, was important too. Many have become the biggest cities in the world. These imprints contribute to the biodiversity crisis. Back in time though, these processes fuelled great change. Motor vehicles emerged in the early 20th century with the British empire extracting rubber from Malaysia and oil from the Middle East. This intensified the use of fossil fuels, literally driven by commodities taken from colonised territories. Today’s climate crisis is thus embedded in the imperial nexus.
There is some significance now to Britain’s King Charles III being a votary of the environment. Royals have a certain influence on public opinion in the UK and particularly among conservative groups who may not be influenced by other arguments about a climate crisis. However, it’s important that royal support for environmental protection ensures the gains from conservation are equitably shared with impacted communities. Environmental justice is a crucial part of conserving biodiversity — it is to be hoped that royal awareness will strengthen this after a very long history of the opposite.