Tuesday, 31 May 2011

The Kitchener Conspiracy


Conspiracy theories usually drive me up the wall, I have read so many on 9/11, the Titanic and even some on the existence of Nazi flying saucers, but this one is a little more tame and one which serous and credible research has, and I believe should continue to be, undertaken on it.

In May 1916, preparations were made for Kitchener, in his capacity as Secretary of State for War and the then Minister for Munitions David Lloyd George to visit Russia on a diplomatic mission. Lloyd George was otherwise engaged with his new Ministry and so it was decided to send Kitchener alone.
Lord Kitchener sailed from Scrabster on the north coast of Scotland to Scapa Flow -a giant natural harbour off the Orkney Islands, on 5 June 1916 aboard HMS Oak before transferring to the armoured cruiser HMS Hampshire for his diplomatic mission to Russia. Shortly before 1930 hrs the same day, while en route to the Russian port of Arkhangelsk during a Force 9 gale, Hampshire struck a mine laid by the newly-launched German U-boat U-75 (commanded by Curt Beitzen) and sank west of the Orkney Islands. Kitchener, his staff, and 643 of the crew of 655 were drowned or died of exposure. His body was never found. The survivors who caught sight of him in those last moments testified to his outward calm and resolution.
Not everyone mourned Kitchener's loss. C. P. Scott, editor of the The Manchester Guardian, is said to have remarked that "as for the old man, he could not have done better than to have gone down, as he was a great impediment lately."


Leaving the War Office three days before his death
The suddenness of Kitchener's death, combined with his great fame and the fact that his body was never recovered, almost immediately gave rise to conspiracy theories which have proved long-lived.
The fact that newly-appointed Minister of Munitions (and future prime minister) David Lloyd George was supposed to accompany Kitchener on the fatal journey, but cancelled at the very last moment, has been given significance by some. This fact, along with the alleged lethargy of the rescue efforts, has led some to claim that Kitchener was assassinated, or that his death would have been convenient for a British establishment that had come to see him as a figure from the past who was incompetent to wage modern war.
For example, in an effort to find a way to relieve pressure on the Western front, Lord Kitchener proposed an invasion of Alexandretta with Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC), New Army, and Indian troops. Alexandretta was an area with a large Christian population and was the strategic centre of the Ottoman Empire's railway network — its capture would have cut the empire in two. Yet he was instead eventually persuaded to support Winston Churchill's disastrous Gallipoli campaign in 1915–1916. (Churchill's responsibility for the failure of this campaign is debated; for more information see David Fromkin's Peace to End All Peace) That failure, combined with the Shell Crisis of 1915, was to deal Kitchener's political reputation a heavy blow; Kitchener was popular with the public, so Asquith retained him in office in the new coalition government, but responsibility for munitions was moved to a new ministry headed by David Lloyd George. A week before his death, Kitchener confided to Lord Derby that he intended to press relentlessly for a peace of reconciliation with Germany, regardless of his position, when the war was over, as he feared that the politicians would make a bad peace.

HMS Hampshire

After the war ended, a number of conspiracy theories emerged and were put forward, one by Lord Alfred Douglas, positing a connection between Kitchener's death, the recent naval Battle of Jutland, Winston Churchill and a Jewish conspiracy. (Churchill successfully sued Douglas for criminal libel and the latter spent six months in prison.) Another claimed that the Hampshire did not strike a mine at all, but was sunk by explosives secreted in the vessel by Irish Republicans.
In 1926, a hoaxer named Frank Power claimed Kitchener's body had been found by a Norwegian fisherman. Power brought a coffin back from Norway and prepared it for burial in St. Paul's. At this point, however, the authorities intervened and the coffin was opened in the presence of police and a distinguished pathologist. The box was found to contain only tar for weight. There was widespread public outrage at Power, but he was never prosecuted.

General Erich Ludendorff, Generalquartiermeister and joint head (with von Hindenburg) of Germany's war effort stated that Russian communist elements working against the Tsar had betrayed Kitchener's travel plans to Germany. He stated that Kitchener was killed "because of his ability" as it was feared he would help the Tsarist Russian Army to recover after its string of defeats in 1915-16.
Capt Duquesne, a Boer Army officer and later a spy in the Second Boer War, hated Kitchener because of his scorched earth policy in South Africa (ordering the destruction of the farms and the homes of civilians in order to prevent the still-fighting Boers from obtaining food and supplies) and he hated the British in general for abusing his family in the concentration camps. He was captured and sent to Lisbon as a prisoner of war, but he soon escaped and returned to South Africa via London as a Captain in the British Army. He attempted to kill Lord Kitchener in Cape Town, but was betrayed by the wife of one of his co-conspirators. Duquesne was sentenced to life in prison and sent to Bermuda, but he escaped to the United States and became a U.S. citizen, and he even served as a consultant on African big-game hunting to President Theodore Roosevelt and others. In World War I, Duquesne became a German spy and planted explosive devises on British ships in South America, sinking 22.
FBI photo of Duquesne
He claims to have posed as the Russian Duke Boris Zakrevsky in 1916 and joined Kitchener in Scotland. While on board H.M.S. Hampshire with Kitchener, Duquesne supposedly signalled the German submarine that sank the destroyer, and he got off by using a life raft before the ship sank, rescued by the submarine. He was apparently awarded the Iron Cross for his efforts. Duquesne was later apprehended and tried by the authorities in the U.S. on the charge of sabotage, but he managed to escape yet again. In World War II, Capt Dunquesne ran a huge German spy ring in the United States until he was caught by the FBI in what became the biggest round up of spies in U.S. history: the Duquesne Spy Ring.

The role of Captain Fritz Joubert Duquesne in Kitchener's death has been hypothesised/documented in several books and movies:

Kitchener: The Man Behind the Legend (Cassell Military Paperbacks), the best latest comprehensive biography.

House On 92nd Street- Studio Classics [DVD], won screenwriter Charles G. Booth an Academy Award for the best original motion picture story in 1945.

Counterfeit Hero: Fritz Duquesne, Adventurer and Spy, by Art Ronnie. Naval Institute Press, 1995 ISBN 1-55750-733-3 Fräulein Doktor, a Dino DeLaurentis film, 1969.

The Man Who Would Kill Kitchener, by François Verster, a documentary film on the life of Fritz Joubert Duquesne that won six Stone awards, 1999.

Friday, 27 May 2011

Treaty of the Month: what historic international treaty has amused me this month?

This month: the secret Treaty of Björkö
 
Who, when and where
The Treaty of Björkö, also known as the Treaty of Koivisto in modern Finland, was a secret mutual defence accord signed on July 24, 1905 between Wilhelm II of the German Empire and Tsar Nicholas II of Russia.
Secret meeting
Prior to the signing of the mutual defense treaty, Wilhelm II arranged four days earlier to meet secretly with Tsar Nicholas II. On Sunday evening July 23, 1905, the Kaiser arrived from Vyborg Bay to Koivisto Sound in his yacht, the Hohenzollern. He dropped anchor near Tsar Nicholas' yacht, the Polar Star. This secret meeting is confirmed based on their discussions via telegram dubbed, "The Willy-Nicky Correspondence."

Terms
The overall defence treaty contained four articles and was signed by Wilhelm II and Tsar Nicholas II. It was countersigned by Tchirschky (head of the German Foreign Office), Count von Benckendorff, and Naval Minister Aleksey Birilyov.
Their Imperial Majesties, the Emperor of All the Russias on the one side, and the German Emperor on the other, in order to insure the peace of Europe, have placed themselves in accord on the following points of the herein treaty relative to a defensive alliance:
•    Art. I. If any European state attacks one of the two empires, the allied party engages to aid the other contracting party with all his military and naval forces.
•    Art. II. The high contracting parties engage not to conclude with any common enemy a separate peace.
•    Art. III. The present treaty will become effective from the moment of the conclusion of the peace between Russia and Japan and may be denounced with a year's previous notification.
•    Art. IV. When this treaty has become effective, Russia will undertake the necessary steps to inform France of it and to propose to the latter to adhere to it as an ally.
[Signed] Nicholas. William.
[Countersigned] Von Tschirschky. Count Bekendorf. Naval Minister, Birilev.
Reaction

Why it has amused me
Although the treaty was signed by the Tsar in person, it was inevitably a 'dead letter' -as it has ubiquitously been coined, because of Russia's prior commitment to France through the Franco-Russian Alliance signed in 1892 which had the express intention of undermining the military supremacy of the German Empire in continental Europe. The Russian statesmen. the Tsars advisors including Prime Minister Sergey Witte and Foreign Minister Vladimir Lambsdorff, neither present at the yacht nor consulted beforehand, insisted that the treaty should never come into effect unless it was approved and counter-signed by France. The Tsar gave in to their pressure, much to the consternation of the Kaiser who did not fail to reproach his cousin:

"We joined hands and signed before God, who heard our vows!... What is signed, is signed! and God is our testator!"

Monday, 23 May 2011

HASM Giveaway

Dear readers, here is your chance to win a free brand new paperback edition of Helen Rappaport's latest book 'Ekaterinburg, The Last Days of the Romanovs'.


To enter this giveaway simply follow my blog via Google/blogger between Mon 23rd May and Mon 6th June, after which the winner will be announced one the blog front page on Tues 7th June.

To gain additional entries into this giveaway and increase your chances of winning you can also do one or all of the following: leave a comment on a blog post, follow me on twitter or like me on facebook.
Good luck, and thanks for reading!

Saturday, 21 May 2011

Book Review: The Unknown Gulag: The Lost World of Stalin’s Special Settlements

By Lynne Viola

What do we think when we hear the word ‘Gulag’? Barbed-wire fences, watchtowers, dark and damp punishment cells; names like Kolyma, Vorkuta, and Perm. But as author Lynne Viola reminds us in her new book, there existed a less known part of the 'gulag archipelago', the sites holding the first massive population of forced labourers –the ‘special settlements’ created in the early 1930s to exploit the labour of the 'dekulakized' peasants. Little more than clearings in the dense forest with hastily built wooden barracks, these places lacked the intimidating infrastructure and security of the famous labour camps, but nonetheless served as places of confinement, punishment and exploitation.

Buy this book
RRP: £12.99
Publication Date: 2009
ISBN: 978-0195385090
Classification: Hob Nob Accompaniment

The author aptly calls this the ‘unknown Gulag’, for the special settlements have consistently been left out of histories of the Gulag. In part, this stems from the Soviet government’s suppression of the issue; for more than 60 years, the topic was taboo. Solzhenitsyn exposed the camp system largely through the stories of elites; lacking contact with and memoirs written by these peasants, he could only mention their exile in Gulag Archipelago. The documents connected with this socioeconomic experiment remained classified and the stories of survivors were silenced until 1991, when Boris Yeltsin fully exonerated the victims of Soviet political repression, including the so-called kulaks.

The author uses a skilfully assembled mixture of official sources and voices of the dispossessed to eloquently tell the tragic story of the first special settlers. Based on Party and state documents from the centre and the provinces, published document collections, Soviet periodicals, and memoirs, this is a deeply researched and powerfully written study of the fate of the approximately two million peasants who were punitively exiled from their homes in the years 1930–33. Viola covers all aspects of this experience, starting with Bolshevik attitudes towards the peasantry, rural developments of the 1920s, policy-making under Stalin, the expropriation and transport of the kulaks, and their arrival in the remote places chosen for them. She focuses her study on the Northern Territory, the Urals and Siberia, examining the lives of the special settlers, their suffering, dying and methods of coping. The book discusses their travails to the end of the Soviet period, when survivors were finally able to
shed the fear and stigma that had permeated their lives, long after their term of exile ended in the 1950s.
The author shows, in glaring detail, the complete and scandalous lack of planning for accommodating the exiles in inhospitable locations. Guided by hatred of the peasant as the epitome of backwardness and the desire to exploit natural resources in harsh locales in service of industrialization, the Soviet authorities, starting in March 1930, dumped the exiles in places ill-prepared to house, feed, or employ them. Over the next months and years, the regime responded to the disasters as they unfolded: the deaths of half a million people, epidemics, famine, escapes, rebellions, and low productivity.
She therefore goes beyond documenting the process of dekulakization and uncovering the lived experience of its victims. She dwells on the importance of this cataclysmic operation, underscoring the central role dekulakization played in the development of the Gulag, in particular, and Stalinism, in general. She shows that the special settlements, first established for the exiled kulaks, formed an essential part of the Gulag in its initial decade. Dekulakization constituted the largest exile operation and provided the first massive wave of un-free workers; the exploitation of the kulaks’ labour provided the model (even barracks and workplaces) for later exiles of ‘enemy’ ethnic groups, such as the Poles, Germans, Crimean Tatars and Chechens. Furthermore, the creation of the special settlements established practices and taught lessons that were used in the expansion of the Gulag of the camps and penal colonies. The author concludes that, ‘the Soviet state was not the Leviathan of Western cold-war lore’, but rather ‘an infrastructurally weak, agrarian state'. This reality, coupled with the radical policies of its leader, meant that coercion took the place of administrative control, and resulted ‘in excesses, violence and terror’. These features, the author argues, constituted the essence of Stalinism. The ‘war on the peasantry’ played a critical role in the shaping and solidification of Stalin’s rule, particularly in the growth of, and reliance on, the secret police. Lynne Viola convincingly asserts that knowledge of the dekulakization of the peasantry, the practices it established and the cataclysmic changes it engendered, is central to understanding Soviet development from 1930 onwards. This book is essential reading for students of Soviet history, and for experts on Stalinism and the Gulag, as well.


Wednesday, 18 May 2011

The After Empire Series: Issue 3, After the British Empire.



Here we are, already, in May with the third instalment of my ongoing series of monthly comparative investigations into the impact of various empire's demises on their former peoples, the states that emerged from their ruins and on international order.
As anyone familiar with the previous two Issues  (Habsburg and Ottoman Empire's) will know, it is my intention to draw from comparisons across a range of empires, while not attempting to define all-encompassing and scientific laws governing empire's demise and aftermath, but to hopefully discover patterns across empire's and to use comparisons to sharpen understanding of individual cases. Which will hopefully yield more and more fruit as the series develops and more empires are compared.
This month's issue introduces an important extra dimension, that of the colonial empire, as it focuses on an empire which was the largest the world has ever seen. Its capitol city was not especially elegant like Vienna and certainly was not exotic like Constantinople but it's overseas empire amply made up in mystery and exoticism what its industrial capitol lacked. This is of course the British Empire, comprised of the dominions, colonies, protectorates, mandates, and other territories ruled or administered by the United Kingdom. It originated with the overseas colonies and trading posts established by England in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. For over a century it was the foremost global power, by 1922 the British Empire held sway over about 458 million people, one-quarter of the world's population at the time, and covered more than 33,700,000 km2 (13,012,000 sq mi), almost a quarter of the Earth's total land area. As a result, its political, linguistic and cultural legacy is widespread and the most profound of any empire to be examined in this series -which has led to a much lengthier investigation.

The British Empire
The end of Empire was much less traumatic for the British than for the Turks or the Austrians, or indeed for the French. It was not accompanied by revolution or civil war in the UK. Britain's traditional political institutions -parliamentary government and constitutional monarchy- were untouched. Britain was not flooded by White settlers from overseas colonies ethnically cleansed in the course of their liberation from imperial rule. Decolonisation entailed some humiliations, of which the fiasco at Suez in 1956 was probably the worst, but Britain suffered no equivalent of Dien Bien Phu ( although proponents of the Batang Kali massacre would disagree), let alone of defeat in a world war. The 1950s and the 1960s were decades of rising prosperity, full employment and the benefits of the new welfare state: life for the ordinary man and woman was much more comfortable than it had been in the era when Britain was the world's leading imperial power. The end of empire did not even in the short term require the Englishman, unlike the Turk or the Austrian, to think afresh about what it meant to be English and how to identify with the British state.
An English nation had existed well before the British Empire, the vernacular Bible, the Spanish Armada and the seventeenth-century consolidation of parliamentary monarchy were key elements in the creation of this nation and of its political identity. The late nineteenth-century advocates of imperial federation, Arthur Seeley and his followers, had dreamed of developing a 'Greater British' nation and identity but they had never succeeded. Very few Englishmen thought of Australia, let alone Nigeria, in the same way as they thought of Kent. The strength of emotional identification with English soil was totally different from the commitment to overseas empire. In constitutional terms the United Kingdom and the overseas empire were always sharply distinct. The loss of empire therefore had minimal constitutional implications for Britain. For most British people the impact of two victorious wars was far greater than the loss of empire. Victory legitimises institutions and a communities established ways. It had this affect in post-1945 Britain too. The retreat from empire was for the most part presented to the public as the culmination of Britain's long-held commitment to democracy and self-government, in other words as a satisfactory conclusion to a well executed mission of trusteeship. There was just enough truth in this, and just enough dignity and mutual goodwill in Britain's retreat from most of its colonies, to make the myth acceptable. For a time too, the Commonwealth was a fig-leaf to hide Britain's declining status, as was perhaps the pomp and circumstance that continued to surround the monarchy.
Britain's diplomatic, military and political elites understood and experienced a sense of declining status and shrinking horizons. In this sense they were more like the Austrians than the Turks, for whom the loss of empire was almost a liberation. But the gloom and partial loss of confidence that affected sections of the governing elite had as much to do with Britain's relative economic decline in comparison to the rest of Europe as it did with the loss of empire. If empire's loss mattered before 1960, in the 1970s and 1980s economic decline was a much more burning issue. In any case Britain's loss of status was far less dramatic than Austria's. As a victor in 1945, Britain was one of the 'big three' though admittedly the junior member of the triumvirate. For more than a decade after 1945 it was much richer than devastated continental Europe. It retained a global role and influence for at least two decades after 1945. It was the key US ally in the Cold War and this overshadowed the loss of empire, contributed to a continuing British sense of global mission, and reinforced the wartime sense of unity with the Americans, a sense which went beyond a mere military alliance of convenience. The British brokered the 1954 Geneva peace in Indochina and defeated the communist insurgency in Malaya. Suez was a shock but it was really the economic crisis and the radical shift in morals and culture in the 1960s that marked a clear break with the past.
Empire's loss had greater implications for the United Kingdom and a British identity than it had for England and the English. An English empire had existed for a hundred years before the Anglo-Scottish Union of 1707. Access to England's colonial trade was one factor in the Scottish desire for union. Under the Union Scottish west-coast industry and the Scottish aristocracy and the professional middle-class had benefited greatly from empire. The British state as a whole and in particular specific institutions such as the monarchy and the armed forces gained additional lustre and prestige from the association with empire. At least as important, however, was that Britain had been the richest and most powerful state in the world, that it -almost uniquely in 1850- lived under a liberal constitutional order, and that it was widely admired and envied. Declining Scottish enthusiasm for the Union after 1965 was linked t the reduced significance of these factors quite as much as to the loss of empire.

All western Europe now had liberal-democratic governments and the European Union offered the prospect of linking a separate Scottish state and identity to a larger unit which would provide a wider market, a sense of security, and an alternative to isolation. The discovery of North Sea oil for a time encouraged the belief that Scotland could manage the economics of independence without difficulty. The decline in religious committment weakened the sense of the protestant British Union's separation from the a Papist Europe. Nor in any case was Scotland unique. In much of Western Europe peoples long subsumed in supposed 'nation states' began to assert their separate identity and even sometimes a claim to statehood: the Flemish, Catalans, Basques and Bretons all belonged to this group. Since Scotland wasn't an ancient kingdom and had always retained under the Union both many distinct institutions and its own cultural identity it is in no way surprising that it should conform to this common West European trend. The devolution of power to an elected Scottish assembly may encourage or may divert the Scottish desire for independence. In global terms it matters little either way. The United Kingdom was a strategic alliance to create a great power. Whatever the Scots do, that great power is dead. The main raison d'etre of the United Kingdom is therefore finished. Democratic institutions and habits are too deeply entrenched in mainland Britain for Scottish independence to be accompanied by violence. The English are quite capable of accepting the Union's ending psychologically. A certain Anglo-Scottish mutual sourness is about the worst one could expect. Moreover, independence within the European Union is a rather different matter from the glories of Bannockburn, though political rhetoric may no doubt sometimes suggest otherwise. What the impact of the Union's ending might be in Ulster is an interesting point: the Protestant settlement there was after all more Scots than English.

Irish Free State Treaty Signed, 1921
Ireland is a bigger and more complex issue from the perspective of empire. The end of empire in the 26-county Irish Free State (and later Republic) was accompanied by a rapid decline in the size of the Anglo-Irish, Protestant minority. This was 10 per cent of the overall population in 1911, 7 per cent in 1926 and 3.5 per cent by 1981. During the war of independence and the subsequent civil war a very small number of Protestant civilians were murdered, while a considerably larger number felt intimidated or in some cases had their property or business destroyed. Overall, perhaps 1,400 people lost their lives on both sides during the war of independence. The number of deaths in the subsequent war in the Free State and in ethnic conflict between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland was also very small when compared to the awful bloodshed and the ethnic cleansing which accompanied the demise of other empires, though f course Ireland's population was also small. During the Algerian war of independence, for example, the French killed perhaps 140,000 Algerians and the Nationalist FLN about a further 100,000 of their own Muslim people.
Nevertheless, within the republican movement and the republican elite the Civil War of 1922-3 was fought with great viciousness. The IRA assassinated Members of Parliament and the judges, the government responding with 'breathtakingly draconian measures'. Summary executions without trial, on the basis of arbitrary reprisal, were carried out by ex-comrades. Given this history, the strength of democracy and political stability in independent Ireland was remarkable. The new Ireland was unequivocally Catholic and nationalist. Protestants might well find it hard to identify with this Irish nation. But the Irish state bent over backwards not to discriminate against Protestants and there was little ethnic cleansing even during the war, let alone after 1921: less indeed than occurred in Belfast where the victims were the Catholic community.
The British Empire contained three major diaspora peoples, of whom the British themselves were one. The temperate lands which they colonised en masse - Canada, New Zealand, Australia and the United States, were the basis for the pre-eminence of the English language and of basic British political values and institutions worldwide at the end of the second millennium AD. 'Decolonisation' in Australia and Canada caused no real problems since London had long reconciled itself to their possible eventual independence. The continued existence of pockets of indigenous peoples and their claims to lost lands and rights were an embarrassment to these white post-colonial societies but not a major one.  In Australia, Canada and the US  most native peoples had been too marginalised and decimated to make major impact on the White society. A far more significant impediment to nation-building in Canada were the Quebecois. A conquered European people with their own national territory were much more difficult to integrate into a anglophone nation than other immigrants from Europe who came voluntarily to anglophone colonies, had no ancestral territorial claims in the new world, and in varying degrees were happy to assimilate to anglophone culture, while at the same time contributing to the creation of new-world anglophone national identities which were different from the British.

British Decolonisation in Africa by 1969
As is generally the case with the end of empire, the main potential problems for the dominant imperial people came neither in territories that they had swamped with colonists, nor in lands they had left  un-colonised and ruled through bureaucrats, soldiers and merchants alone. It was a middle range of territories with sizeable White settler communities but large native majorities whose decolonisation was likely to cause most trouble for London. Above all this meant South Africa and Southern Rhodesia (Zimbabwe). From London's perspective matters were both simplified and complicated by the well-established tradition of granting self-government to sizeable White communities. This allowed the White South Africans and Rhodesians to ride roughshod over native interests. It also allowed these White minorities to proclaim their independence from British, de jure in South Africa and de facto in Southern Rhodesia. In most ways South African independence was a vast relief for the British. Having contributed greatly to the creation of a wealthy (by African standards) but also extremely racist and unjust society, London could avoid responsibility for the consequences. Since in 1965 Rhodesia was still a crown colony, it was not so easy to evade any responsibility for its failure. In comparison to the French or Portuguese, however, the British escaped very lightly from their African empire. They had the good sense not to attempt to hold this empire in the face of serious native resistance. They also never pretended to integrate African, or other, colonies into the British nation state. That is one important reason why unlike not only the French and Portuguese but also the Turks and Germans, post imperial Britain was not faced with an influx of 'overseas British' fleeing the consequences of empire's collapse.
The other two diaspora peoples in the British Empire were the Indians and the Chinese. They spread widely, though not as widely as the British, partly because they were excluded from most of the self-governing White dominions. The mass of overseas Indians and Chinese were often labourers in plantations or mines, work which the indigenous peasantry shunned: they provided too -a mass of peddlers and shopkeepers. Their elite was mainly composed of merchants though most of these later moved to the finance industry.
As with the Jews in post imperial Central and Eastern Europe, the Indians and Chinese were often deeply unpopular with the indigenous peoples in whose lands they lived. Sometimes there were specific reasons for this. In Ceylon, for example, tea plantations with Tamil labour imported from India had been created by the British partly on land expropriated from the Sinhalese peasantry. Not surprisingly, after independence the determination to get this land back added to other causes of anti-Tamil feeling. Uniquely, in 1964 the Indian government agreed on the repatriation of 525,000 labourers over the next 15 years, in return for which a further 300,000 were to be granted Sri Lankan citizenship.
Popular resentment of the Chinese trader and money-lender, was very reminiscent of attitudes to the Jews in Eastern-Central Europe. Above all, Indians and Chinese were resented because of their enormous economic power: in the Indian case this applied primarily in Burma and East Africa, both of which were opened up to Indian businessmen under British rule. In Uganda and Burma the Indians were driven out after independence. In South-East Asia the Chinese had deeper roots, though their numbers  and economic power had grown enormously under European imperial rule. Even in the 1980s is was estimated that in Indonesia between 70 per cent and 75 per cent of private domestic capitol was owned by Chinese, who constituted less than 3 per cent of the population. In Malaysia Chinese made up 35 per cent of the population but owned 85 per cent of private domestic capitol. In Malaysia the Chinese were subjected to a major pogrom in 1969 and to  a range of discriminatory polices whose declared aim was to reduce inequalities of wealth between the Malay and Chinese communities.
So long as empire appeared permanent and the British had no though of decolonisation, they not merely protected but also often favoured minorities. The Indianan and Chinese diasporas made a huge contribution to the empire's economy, above all to its modern, commercial and export sector. Some indigenous minorities made a disproportionate contribution to empire's administration and military power, sometimes because they had (or were perceived to have by the British) particular skills or qualities such as literacy or valour, sometimes because they were seen as more loyal than the local majority people. It is in the nature of empires to play divide-and-rule to some extent, just as it is also natural for minorities to look to the imperial power for protection against potentially dominant local peoples who may be ancestral rivals. The British did not create religious, ethnic and historical differences among their subjects: in cost cases they could not have erased them even had they tried. The practise of imperial rule did sometimes, however, sharpen ethnic and communal differences and tensions. So too inevitably did the approach of decolonisation, which often causes local majorities to clamour to regain full control of 'their' country and government, and minorities to fear exclusion.
The onset of decolonisation somewhat changed British perceptions and priorities. The main aim now was to avoid chaos, which would be bad for British prestige and self-esteem and would offend British officials' real sense of responsibility for the peoples and territories they governed. A  stable successor regime had to be found which would as far as possible protect Britain's remaining strategic and economic interests, and would not go over to the Soviet side in the Cold war. Stability, British interests and even perhaps democracy all pointed towards doing a deal with the dominant local people and its elites. Pushing a defence of minority rights or interests too strongly would merely annoy the majority and harm the commitment to the majorities defence, which contradicted one of the key aims of decolonisation, which was precisely a reduction in Britain's worldwide commitments. In any case Britain's own constitution, an inevitable model for British officials, contained no bill of rights, no guarantees for minorities and no proportional representation.
To partition a colony between its peoples would probably infuriate the majority and would reverse a long tradition of trying to create large, economically viable and defensible units. It might well create terrible precedents for other colonies. Moreover, even if the geographical distribution of peoples made partition conceivable, it could very easily degenerate into hideous ethnic cleansing. A further basic point was that the closer decolonisation came, the less room for manoeuvre the British possessed. Native officials and soldiers could not be expected automatically to obey the orders of a departing imperial regime if faced by the opposition of their own people and of their own future political masters. In 1946-7 a major reason for getting out of India quickly was awareness that the Indian bureaucracy and army were no longer wholly reliable weapons in British hands given Britain's imminent departure and spiralling inter-ethnic and inter-communal tensions.

Crumbling British Building in Penang
The history of decolonisation in South Asia illustrates many of these general points but it also showed how very different the process was from colony to colony. The British had lost Burma to the Japanese in the Second World War. They returned it in 1945 anxious to restore the economy by a period of direct rule and to pay their debts to minority peoples who had often helped them greatly against the Japanese. It quickly became clear, however, that the Burmese majority and its elites controlled most of the levers of power. To dislodge them would only have been possible by the sort of military conquest which the Dutch attempted (and failed to achieve) in Indonesia between 1945 and 1949. Except in Malaya, where they had majority support, the British never attempted this kind of military effort after 1945. Burma was certainly not with such an investment. The colony was essentially abandoned without any effective safeguards for minority rights and without there even being a stable Burmese government to which power could be ceded. Civil was war the immediate and inevitable result. The armed struggle of some of the minorities against the government in Rangoon continues to this day.

The fate of India was far more important to British interests and prestige. By 1945-7 London would have preferred to hand over powers to an undivided Indian successor state. The Congress part was regarded as the best available guarantor of stability and was trusted to have at least relatively favourable attitude post-independence to Britain and her interests. The Congress would certainly oppose the Communist party, stamp on social revolution in the countryside, and keep its distance from Moscow. Having previously looked at the princely states as a possible counterforce to the Congress the British now abandoned them -in terms of Realpolitik quite rightly, since the largely Muslim princes and landed aristocrats were losing ground with every year as industrial and commercial development, a growing Hindu middle class, and the beginnings of mass electoral politics bit into their power. But neither London nor the Congress could impose Indian unity on the Muslim League once the latter had gained the support of the elites in the Muslim majority provinces. By 1946 London was in any case anxious to cut its commitments and be gone. Since it would no longer be ruling India it was Wholly unprepared to commit scores of thousands of troops and vast (and in 1946 non-existent) financial resources to imposing and policing a settlement. Competitive democratic party politics and the mobilisation of religious and communal feeling to gain support in elections greatly worsened tension between Hindus and Muslims in 1946-7. Impending British departure further heightened the tension. The sudden need to draw a new state frontier though territories that were historically united and lived in by Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs caused massacre and ethnic cleansing in Punjab on a vast scale.
Partition on religious and communal lines not only resulted in great immediate suffering but also created a new Pakistani state which was never viable in its post-independence form. Nearly a thousand miles of Indian territory separated East and West Pakistan. Islam was never likely to suffice to hold this state together in the face of geography and of the state's domination by the Punjab and its elite. East Bengal's revolt against rule by an alien Punjab state resulted in further massacres, war between India and Pakistan, and Bangladeshi (East Bengal) independence in 1971. Meanwhile, predictably, amidst the bitterness of communal violence and partition in 1947, conflict erupted between Pakistan and India over possessions of the border province of Kashmir. The province's status remains in dispute to this day and is a key factor in the acute hostility of India and Pakistan, both of which are now armed with nuclear weapons. In both Pakistan and India domestic party political and fears for domestic political stability feed into aggressive foreign and defence policies which could easily escalate into renewed war.

Decolonisation in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) was far more peaceful and orderly than in India or in Burma. There was to inter-communal violence, no whisper of partition and not even a very fervent independence movement. For eight years after independent Ceylon was run by established Sinhalese elites who dominated the United National Party and achieved a modus vivendi with their Tamil peers from the north of the island. With Ceylon there were roughly seven Sinhalese for every two Tamils in three years. The traditional centre of Tamil settlement was in the north. Before the Europeans arrived Ceylon consisted of three kingdoms, the northern one being Tamil and the other two Sinhalese. The island was finally united by the British in 1815.
Upon independence the Tamils inevitably feared Sinhalese domination. Politics within the Sinhalese community became competitive and democratic from the early 1950s. In 1956 the Sri Lanka Freedom Party won the elections on a programme of Sinhalese nationalism, which insisted among other things that the Sinhalese should be the sole language of government. Inevitably this radicalised Tamil opinion. SLFP policy caused Tamil protests in parliament, anti-Tamil pogroms, and a competition between the two Sinhalese parties for the mass nationalist vote. When S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, the SLFP leader, tried to retreat from confrontation with the Tamils he was assassinated by extremist nationalists in his own camp. A subsequent effort by the United National Party to restore a modus vivendi with the Tamils after the victory in the 1965 elections also ended after violent Sinhalese riots and protests. The Tamil Tigers, the main Tamil armed resistance movement, was founded in 1976. By the early 1980s Tamil terrorism and the equally brutal response of Sri Lanka's overwhelmingly Sinhalese army had brought about a guerrilla war which killed 40,000 people in the north-eastern region of Sri Lanka alone in the years between 1987 and 1993.
Comparisons between the end of empire in India and in Ceylon are an unhappy reminder that although mayhem during decolonisation may lead to decades of subsequent violence and instability, its absence is no guarantee of later inter-ethnic peace. The history of Sri Lanka since independence is also a reminder that one cannot blame the imperial era and its heritage for all subsequent ills. A political system that allows one party, and therefore one people, undiluted power is extremely dangerous in any multinational society. Though conflict between peoples might have been less exacerbated and more repressed under empire's rule , it was also to some extent the product of a process of modernisation which began before the end of Britain's empire and continued after it. In most traditional societies different peoples can live in the countryside in relatively close proximity without having much to do with each other. Modern communications, trade and urbanisation reduce this isolation. In post-independence Sri Lanka as in nineteenth-century Bohemia modernisation has also meant mass education and battles over language and jobs, above all government jobs. In Sri Lanka 87 per cent literacy by 1981 made this a burning issue. There were acute competition for jobs among a newly literate younger generation in a country where half of all those in employment were paid by the state. Young men with some education in employment were paid by the state. Young men with some education but not too much proved excellent terrorists, especially when engaged in a desperate and fruitless struggle for government jobs. Young Sinhalese terrorist moved between armed revolutionary Trotskyism and radical anti-Tamil nationalism with disconcerting ease. Behind the radicalism and the inter-ethnic violence there also to some extent lay other problems common to the Third World, whether or not the countries concerned had passed through a period of imperial rule. These problems included poverty, very rapid population growth, and horrendous mismanagement f the economy by governments determined to use the country's wealth to buy clients, hang on to power and satisfy personal ends.

Further Reading:

Should anyone wish to explore this subject and the themes highlighted here a little further, here are a few books which I used in compiling the latest issue of 'After Empire' all of which I can recommend as useful and enjoyable:

The short and sweet introduction:
The British Empire, 1815-1914 (Access to History)

Good broad introductory reading:

Best and latest in historical debate on British decolonisation:


Tuesday, 17 May 2011

History Hot Date: International Conference: 'Development and Empire, 1929-1962'

Friday 1 and Saturday 2 July 2011, 10.00AM , University of York.

This two-day conference, held at the Humanities Research Centre, will bring together scholars from Africa, Asia, Europe and North America to share knowledge and ideas about British aid-assisted colonial development in the mid-twentieth-century. Today this is a vibrant research area.

Speakers: Paul Greenough, Jordanna Bailkin, Barbara Bush, David Clover, Billy Frank, Leigh Gardner, Joseph Hodge, Gerald Hödl, Michael Jennings, Margaret Jones, Manjiri Kamat, Amarjit Kaur, Gerold Krozewski, Edward Hampshire, Lucy McCann, Zachary D. Poppel and Uyilawa Usuanlele.

Over two days a series of panels will focus on emerging themes and topics such as health and development, regional experiences and metropolitan perspectives. Papers presented by established scholars and early career researchers will consider the meanings of aid-assisted development, its many practices, and its multiple short-and long-term effects. Besides academic papers, the conference will include workshops on archival sources in the UK on colonial development and a round-table on the implications of the papers presented for development policy today.

A keynote address will be given by Professor Paul Greenough (University of Iowa), a leading expert on the social and environmental history of the modern India, on Friday 1 July. He will also deliver a Public Lecture on the eve of the conference, 30 June, entitled "Natural Disasters in Social Theory and South Asia Practice" which is open to all conference delegates.
The conference will be held at the Humanities Research Centre (Berrick Saul Building), University of York. This campus-based venue is a 20-minute bus journey from York train station and a 10-minute bus journey from the centre of York.
Registration details can be found here: http://www.york.ac.uk/history/research/conferences/development-and-empire/
I've got my place booked!

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Book Review: Wilhelmine Germany and Edwardian Britain: Essays on Cultural Affinity


By Dominik Geppert and Robert Gerwarth, eds.


Whilst in something of an unofficial, and self imposed, honeymoon period between the end of a series of post-grad essays and the start of serious dissertation research, I have taken advantage on some free time to risk corrupting my brain with  few books which aren't relevant to my studies. Having something of a keen interest in many aspects of the turn of the last century I had my eye on this book in the Uni library for some time but had denied myself it at the expense of more relevant books, until now!
Buy this book

Price: £65.00
Publication Date: 2008
ISBN: 978-0199558285
Classification: Noodle Scratcher

My undergrad dissertation dealt with the political and diplomatic effects of German war planning in the period 1871-1914 and while reading round the topic I got the clear impression that most of the recent literature has focussed upon the differences between Germany and Britain at the beginning of the twentieth century. For proponents of the controversial Sonderweg interpretation of the German past (that considers the German-speaking lands, or the country Germany, to have followed a unique course from aristocracy into democracy, distinct from other European countries) Britain’s apparently smooth development into a modern democracy during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century's has served as a counterpoint to the narrative of flawed constitutionalism, authoritarianism and militarism under the German Emperors, which prepared the way for the Reich’s descent into totalitarian dictatorship and genocide.
Ever since Paul Kennedy’s monumental The Rise of the Anglo-German Antagonism appeared some 30 years ago, historians of international relations too have presented the two countries in opposition to each other, emphasizing the matters which divided them in the critical period before the First World War. Dominik Geppert and Robert Gerwarth’s exciting new volume offers a highly original alternative portrayal and comparison of Wilhelmine Germany and Edwardian Britain. Through its contributors’ focus on cultural transfers and their use of innovative transnational and comparative historiographical methodology, the volume reveals a neglected history of extensive personal contacts, mutual admiration, intellectual exchange and emulation operating alongside the nations’ well-known ferocious naval rivalry and growing political alienation.

The volume covers a useful an impressive range of subjects: high politics, colonial culture, gender, legal culture, academic life, music and architecture, highbrow and lowbrow literature and popular culture. Unsurprisingly, the nature and extent of cultural affinities and transfers varied greatly within these fields, although they were often striking. John M. MacKenzie notes the ubiquity of certain manifestations of popular imperialism across Europe and Frank Bosch investigates the proliferation in both Britain and Germany of popular scandals about colonizers’ treatment of African peoples from the 1890s. The vibrant intellectual exchanges between architects and lawyers of both countries are examined by Matthew Jefferies and Jose Harris, while Dominik Geppert highlights the readiness of even nationalistic newspaper entrepreneurs to cooperate with their peers abroad for mutual financial advantage. Frank Lorenz Muller discusses the almost simultaneous crises of the two nations’ governing systems from 1909–11 and the conclusions drawn by Germans of different political colours from observing British reforms. Women activists’ transnational connections are the focus of Jean H. Quataert’s essay, while Thomas Weber characterizes Britons studying in Heidelberg and Germans, many of them close relations of the Wilhelmine governing elite, at Oxford University as ‘cosmopolitan nationalists’. The contributors are careful not to overstate the two nations’ affinities. Sabine Freitag, for example, explains how, despite sharing a common concern with so-called ‘habitual offenders’, different cultural and scientific settings resulted in legislation which in England emphasized individual rehabilitation but in Germany prioritized the protection of society. Similarly, Geoff Eley explores why liberalism created a political environment amenable to the development of a large female suffrage movement in Britain, while obstructing the same aspirations of women in Germany. The fascinating essays on technical universities by Oliver Grant and on sport by Christiane Eisenberg also indicate that international cultural transfers were seldom adopted unchanged but were rather adapted to local conditions. The importance of considering both transnational and comparative perspectives is underlined by Jan Ruger’s elegant chapter on Anglo-German naval theatre, which employs both methodologies to draw out the deeper cultural and political meanings behind similar yet nationally distinctive forms of fleet reviews and warship launches. Most interestingly, and perhaps surprisingly,  the book argues that the diverse cultural transfers and affinities did not necessarily run counter to the growing political antagonism between Britain and Germany. In one of the volume’s best essays, Sven Oliver Muller explains that the spread of German music and musical culture to the United Kingdom prompted initial admiration but also lamentation at England’s lack of a first-rate composer. Under such circumstances, music became nationalized and politicized, promoting not international understanding but instead providing a further field of conflict. Naturally, no one volume can cover all areas of Anglo-German cultural interaction. In his engaging opening essay on cultural contacts and transfers, David Blackbourn notes the absence of contributions on religious exchanges and migration. A further, arguably even more important omission is any consideration of military cultures and cultural transfers between the two nations’ armies. This is particularly regrettable, not only because the Anglo-German political antagonism ended in unprecedented bloodshed but also because the most recent and sophisticated attempt to resurrect the Sonderweg theory, Isabel V. Hull’s Absolute Destruction (2005) focuses specifically on this subject, arguing that the German army developed a uniquely extreme and violent military culture due to its isolation from external influences.
The transnational and comparative approaches used in this volume would have been ideally suited to make a fruitful contribution to this current debate. Nonetheless, the cutting-edge research, innovative methodology, broad coverage and genuinely original perspective on turn of the century Anglo-German relations offered by this excellent volume make it essential reading for all students and scholars seeking to understand the bloody first half of Europe’s twentieth century. Now all that's needed is a cheaper paperback edition.



Thursday, 5 May 2011

What Britannic learned from Titanic.



The 'Three Sisters'
RMS (later HMHS) Britannic was the third and largest of the Olympic-class ocean liners built for the White Star Line. She was the sister ship of RMS Olympic and RMS Titanic, and was intended to enter service as a transatlantic passenger liner. Titanic sank on April 14-15th 1912 and before the survivors even arrived in New York, investigations were being planned to discover what had happened, and what could be done to prevent a recurrence. If the White Star Line were ever to attract a single customer to either of its two remaining Olympic-class liners (which to the naked eye of the public were identical to the Titanic) their design had to be improved to prevent such a disaster from ever happening again.

Unlike the older RMS Olympic, which had to be hurriedly fitted out as best as possible with additional (second hand) lifeboats, Britannic was still under construction in Belfast at the time of the sinking, construction ground to a halt amid rumours of faulty designs and inadequate lifesaving measures. So the owners, Harland and Wolf, had the opportunity of completely re-designing the Britannic according to the lessons learned after the sinking of the Titanic. This resulted in a curious hybrid of optimistic Edwardian-ocean liner and a very modern health and safety view of actually anticipating and preparing for the 'unthinkable'.

Changes made to the Britannic:

Britannic as she would have appeared as a passenger liner in her White Star Livery



A change of name?
Though the White Star Line always denied it, before the sinking of the Titanic Britannic was originally going to be called RMS Gigantic. There were, more than likely, numerous reasons why they chose to quietly renamed her, most significant was probably the fact that Gigantic sounded a little too similar to Titanic. In the wake of the overconfidence highlighted by the Titanic inquiries and the public outcry after the disaster, someone probably felt that the time of dreaming up gargantuan names symbolic of mans triumph over nature were now over and that it was therefore somewhat tactful to change the seemingly overconfident and boastful sounding Gigantic to the more patriotic Britannic.



Double Hull
The entire hull of the Britannic, across her boiler rooms and engine-compartments, was doubled, giving her a true 'double skin' so that if the outer hull was breached the second hull layer beneath would prevent her from taking on water in the first place. The entire process was very costly to the White Star Line, but the whole process smacks of not taking any chances at all, no matter how unthinkable, with the safety of their ships and customers.


Raising the watertight bulkheads
Titanic's watertight bulkheads only stretched up to D deck, which meant she could stay afloat with four compartment breached, on Britannic five of the critical bulkheads were raised all the way to the height of B Deck some 40 foot above the waterline. These modifications meant that, in concert with the pumps, she could stay afloat with a full six compartments breached and this should in theory prevent her from sinking in under three hours having sustained heavier damage. An extra bulkhead was also added to make 17 compartments. This design alone could have saved the Titanic, but overconfidence got its own way as it was not the cost of construction that prevented the Titanic from having higher watertight bulkheads but simply that it made it slightly more difficult for passengers and crew to move through certain areas.

Lifeboats
Perhaps the most visibly striking difference was the layout and complement of the lifeboats. Britannic was designed to carry 48 open lifeboats (compared to the Titanic's 16 plus 4 collapsible) forty-six of them would be 34 foot long (making them the largest lifeboats ever placed on a ship at that time). Two of the 46 would be motor propelled and would carry independent wireless sets for communications at sea. The other two were 26 foot cutters (equipped with sails to travel under their own power) placed at both sides of the bridge. All these lifeboats were fitted to massive crane-like davits, each capable of holding six lifeboats -if the White Star line ever cared more about 1st class passenger promenade-deck space than lifeboats they certainly didn't anymore. Additional lifeboats could be stored within reach of the davits on the deckhouse roof, and in an emergency the huge davits could even reach lifeboats on the other side of the vessel. The aim of this design was to enable all the lifeboats to be launched, even if the ship developed a list that would normally prevent lifeboats being launched on the side opposite to the list. However, several of these davits were placed abreast of funnels, defeating that purpose -for heaven's sake!
It's hard to get accurate information on exactly how many people these oversized lifeboats were designed to safely carry, though it certainly would have been more than each of Titanic's lifeboats. Though famously many were launched half full, Titanic's lifeboats had an official capacity of 65 persons (they had been successfully tested in Belfast with the weight of 70) though Britannic's could certainly hold more -even if they only held 65 the essential comparative arithmetic is still telling:
TITANIC: 16 full size at 65 persons each + 4 collapsible at 47 personas each = space for 1228
BRITANNIC: 48 full size estimated at a minimum of 65 persons each = space for 3120

Even more luxurious!
If the White Star Line were to keep customers flocking to their ships after the sinking of the Titanic, it had to keep its reputation for unparalleled luxury at all costs, therefore Britannic was to far surpasses her older sisters in refinement and grace. The Grand Staircase was to be home to an enormous pipe organ; while the First Class restaurant was to be even larger and more opulent. The second class were given a gymnasium and many of her 1st class room were fitted with private bathrooms.

Britannic as a Hospital Ship
Why did Britannic actually sink faster than Titanic?
Britannic was launched just before the start of the First World War and was laid up at her builders in Belfast for many months before being put to use as a hospital ship in 1915. In that role she struck a mine off the Greek island of Kea on 21 November 1916.
The explosion had blown a large hole into the forward bow, at the bulkhead between holds 2 and 3. The bulkhead between the first and second holds was damaged beyond use. The watertight door in the fireman’s passage was destroyed. As a result, boiler room 6 began taking on water. On the bridge, Captain Bartlett was not as confident in his ships abilities as Captain Smith had been with Titanic’s and immediately instructed the radio operator to send out a distress call and ordered the lifeboats uncovered and sounded the general alarm.
There had only been one explosion, so it was possible that the flooding could be contained to the forward hull. It was soon learned that the watertight door between boiler rooms 5 and 6 had malfunctioned, despite its distance from the explosion. Water was pouring into six of the forward compartments. The damage to Britannic was eerily reminiscent of the wound inflicted on Titanic by an iceberg two and a half years earlier, however with the addition of the higher bulkheads that topped Britannic’s watertight compartments off, the holds aft of boiler room 5 held and prevented the domino effect that had doomed her older sister. But soon, under this tremendous weight of water, Britannic was listing heavily to starboard. Many of the portholes on the upper decks had been opened to air out the stuffy wards. This was a serious breach of protocol in a war zone. The list was soon enough to plunge the portholes on E and F decks below the waterline and water poured into the ship which increased the list even more, Captain Bartlett then made a critical error which sealed Britannic's fate.  Only three miles away was the island of Kea and which had large shallow coastal sandbanks which could have offered salvation. If he could ground Britannic on the sand, she could be salvaged so he ordered the engines full ahead and in combination with the rudder and increased power on the port-engine Britannic began to turn for the sandbanks.
As the massive liner accelerated, so did the flooding of her forward compartments. The list increased dramatically and Bartlett realized there was no chance of reaching the island and ordered the engines stopped. Before Britannic could slow down, two lifeboats were launched without authorisation from the port side. Carrying about seventy people between them, the boats were drawn into Britannic’s still churning propellers and thirty people met a gruesome end being churned up in the massive blades. Up on the boat deck, the rest of the crew assembled in what was, for the most part, an orderly evacuation. It became clear very quickly that the ship was going to sink much faster than Titanic had, but the waters were warmer and there were far fewer people on board; less than half as many. It wasn’t long before Britannic’s bow was submerged and she began to roll onto her side. The engineering crew, including the chief engineer himself, escaped through the specially prepared evacuation route made for them up the fourth funnel. Britannic sank at 09:07, only fifty-five minutes after the explosion.
Britannic suffered much heavier damage than the Titanic, with six compartments flooded the Titanic would have sunk much quicker, the Britannic however would have stayed afloat had the portholes not been left open and the intake of water vastly increased by the attempt to beach the ship. Some testament at least, that her improvements would have prevented the Titanic from sinking.

Recommended further reading: 



(My favorite book on all the Olympic class liners, fluidly written, and lavishly illustrated with photographs rarely seen in other books).


The two most detailed, vivid and haunting survivors accounts available. The first, by Colonel Archibald Gracie was written in the months after the disaster before he died of the wounds he suffered that night.Thayer also had a remarkable escape from death in the icy waters of the Atlantic. He was only seventeen at the time and was, like Gracie, one of the last to leave the ship. His account is meticulously detailed.

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