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THE FORGOTTEN SOLDIERS
Khaled Diab
guardian.co.uk
Tuesday November 11 2008
It is time European countries acknowledged the part soldiers from
their former colonies played in the first world war
Ninety years ago, on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month,
the Great War that was supposed to end all wars ended, leaving 20
million dead and another 20 million wounded. The horrendousness of the
conflict is well summed up by Wilfred Owen's Anthem for Doomed Youth.
Rightly, the memory of the "lost generation" who perished so
pointlessly should be kept alive. Sadly, amid the carnage, millions
of soldiers have gone missing in action from the theatre of history,
unmourned and unrecognised in the official narrative.
It is estimated that more than 600,000 soldiers from British and
French colonies fought on the Western Front: 270,000 from the Maghreb
in northern Africa, 153,000 from the Indian subcontinent and 134,000
from western Africa. Colonial soldiers were mobilised throughout the
two empires for the first world war, including a total of more than
1.5 million from the Indian subcontinent.
Add to that the smaller numbers from more than 50 different
cultures who landed in Flanders Fields including American Indians,
Canadian Inuits, New Zealand Maori and a smattering of Aborigines
from Australia, even though they were not officially allowed to
serve. That's not to mention the enormous and shockingly treated
Chinese Labour Corp.
Of course, we should not overlook the fact that the forces of the
Central Powers were hardly homogenous: Slavs, Danes, Francophones,
Arabs, Kurds, Albanians, Jews and even Armenians were simultaneously
being butchered.
Despite the fascinating multiethnic and multicultural reality of
the trenches, it is still conventional wisdom that the first world
war was largely a European war fought by Europeans, with the aid of
their western allies.
"This Eurocentric view of writing the history of the two world wars
has excluded ... colonised peoples as major participants," writes
Driss Maghraoui of the University of California in a study of Moroccan
colonial soldiers.
A recent exhibition at Belgium's Flanders Fields museum sought to
set the record straight by shining a spotlight on the history and
composition of these unknown and largely forgotten colonial forces.
Looking at some of the photos from the time, it seems almost surreal
to see Sikhs sitting cross-legged praying in a wet and sodden field,
or keffiyeh-clad Algerians mounted on white steeds marching alongside
an old industrial canal.
In addition to the alien surroundings and hardships, soldiers from
the colonies often had to endure massive prejudice. They were largely
recruited from so-called "martial races" - ethnicities believed to
be warrior-like but lacking in intelligence and civilisation. Top of
the heap, in British eyes at least, were the Sikhs.
The upshot of these racist theories was that colonial soldiers,
especially black Africans, often provoked fear and mistrust among local
populations, and this was not helped by bloodthirsty caricatures in
the media.
The Germans took full advantage of this angst in their fear-mongering
propaganda, but it backfired when some of their own fighters started
to flee their positions when they heard that African soldiers were
approaching.
Some saw through this prejudice and propaganda. A Belgian military
doctor, Maurice Duwez, described in 1915 a unit that marched past him:
"Arabs and Jews with bronzed skin ... marching as nobly and erectly
as cats."
There was also resistance on racial grounds, with critics fearing that
the mixing of races on the battlefield could lead to the weakening and
even downfall of western civilisation. These concerns eventually led,
in the latter years of the war, to France and Britain deploying most
of their colonial troops outside the European theatre.
Then there was the fear that fighting shoulder to shoulder with their
colonial masters might give "subject races" ideas above their station,
and lead them to revolt against colonial rule. In fact, many colonial
soldiers regarded serving in the army as a good start on their own
quest for independence and national development. Blaise Diagne, the
first black parliamentarian in Europe, was fond of referring to the
"school of the army".
War-ravaged as Europe was, the soldiers' experiences opened their
minds to possibilities for their own countries. Ranji Lal wrote in
a letter: "When I look at Europe, I lament India's lot. In Europe,
everyone is educated." He urged his family "to educate the girls as
well as the boys for a better future".
Chanda Singh, a Sikh who fought for the British forces, wrote to his
wife: "Here, it is truly a free land ... a man and a woman can go
outside arm in arm and no one will say anything."
Some of Singh and Lal's words have survived. But little record
remains of the thoughts and lives of other colonial soldiers, who
were conveniently whitewashed out of European history and did not fit
comfortably into the post-independence narrative of their native lands.
Nine decades on, it is time for Europe to acknowledge the many debts
it owes to its colonies, and for immigrant minorities to take pride
in the achievements of their forebears.
Khaled Diab
guardian.co.uk
Tuesday November 11 2008
It is time European countries acknowledged the part soldiers from
their former colonies played in the first world war
Ninety years ago, on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month,
the Great War that was supposed to end all wars ended, leaving 20
million dead and another 20 million wounded. The horrendousness of the
conflict is well summed up by Wilfred Owen's Anthem for Doomed Youth.
Rightly, the memory of the "lost generation" who perished so
pointlessly should be kept alive. Sadly, amid the carnage, millions
of soldiers have gone missing in action from the theatre of history,
unmourned and unrecognised in the official narrative.
It is estimated that more than 600,000 soldiers from British and
French colonies fought on the Western Front: 270,000 from the Maghreb
in northern Africa, 153,000 from the Indian subcontinent and 134,000
from western Africa. Colonial soldiers were mobilised throughout the
two empires for the first world war, including a total of more than
1.5 million from the Indian subcontinent.
Add to that the smaller numbers from more than 50 different
cultures who landed in Flanders Fields including American Indians,
Canadian Inuits, New Zealand Maori and a smattering of Aborigines
from Australia, even though they were not officially allowed to
serve. That's not to mention the enormous and shockingly treated
Chinese Labour Corp.
Of course, we should not overlook the fact that the forces of the
Central Powers were hardly homogenous: Slavs, Danes, Francophones,
Arabs, Kurds, Albanians, Jews and even Armenians were simultaneously
being butchered.
Despite the fascinating multiethnic and multicultural reality of
the trenches, it is still conventional wisdom that the first world
war was largely a European war fought by Europeans, with the aid of
their western allies.
"This Eurocentric view of writing the history of the two world wars
has excluded ... colonised peoples as major participants," writes
Driss Maghraoui of the University of California in a study of Moroccan
colonial soldiers.
A recent exhibition at Belgium's Flanders Fields museum sought to
set the record straight by shining a spotlight on the history and
composition of these unknown and largely forgotten colonial forces.
Looking at some of the photos from the time, it seems almost surreal
to see Sikhs sitting cross-legged praying in a wet and sodden field,
or keffiyeh-clad Algerians mounted on white steeds marching alongside
an old industrial canal.
In addition to the alien surroundings and hardships, soldiers from
the colonies often had to endure massive prejudice. They were largely
recruited from so-called "martial races" - ethnicities believed to
be warrior-like but lacking in intelligence and civilisation. Top of
the heap, in British eyes at least, were the Sikhs.
The upshot of these racist theories was that colonial soldiers,
especially black Africans, often provoked fear and mistrust among local
populations, and this was not helped by bloodthirsty caricatures in
the media.
The Germans took full advantage of this angst in their fear-mongering
propaganda, but it backfired when some of their own fighters started
to flee their positions when they heard that African soldiers were
approaching.
Some saw through this prejudice and propaganda. A Belgian military
doctor, Maurice Duwez, described in 1915 a unit that marched past him:
"Arabs and Jews with bronzed skin ... marching as nobly and erectly
as cats."
There was also resistance on racial grounds, with critics fearing that
the mixing of races on the battlefield could lead to the weakening and
even downfall of western civilisation. These concerns eventually led,
in the latter years of the war, to France and Britain deploying most
of their colonial troops outside the European theatre.
Then there was the fear that fighting shoulder to shoulder with their
colonial masters might give "subject races" ideas above their station,
and lead them to revolt against colonial rule. In fact, many colonial
soldiers regarded serving in the army as a good start on their own
quest for independence and national development. Blaise Diagne, the
first black parliamentarian in Europe, was fond of referring to the
"school of the army".
War-ravaged as Europe was, the soldiers' experiences opened their
minds to possibilities for their own countries. Ranji Lal wrote in
a letter: "When I look at Europe, I lament India's lot. In Europe,
everyone is educated." He urged his family "to educate the girls as
well as the boys for a better future".
Chanda Singh, a Sikh who fought for the British forces, wrote to his
wife: "Here, it is truly a free land ... a man and a woman can go
outside arm in arm and no one will say anything."
Some of Singh and Lal's words have survived. But little record
remains of the thoughts and lives of other colonial soldiers, who
were conveniently whitewashed out of European history and did not fit
comfortably into the post-independence narrative of their native lands.
Nine decades on, it is time for Europe to acknowledge the many debts
it owes to its colonies, and for immigrant minorities to take pride
in the achievements of their forebears.