In classrooms across England and Wales, students of British colonial history are often asked to measure the “success” of imperial administrators, rather than to interrogate the fundamental morality of colonial rule itself. This framing, embedded in exam specifications and textbook questions, shapes a national narrative that scrutinises efficiency while sidelining the human cost and the principle of foreign domination.
The Essay Prompt That Asks the Wrong Question
The issue crystallises in questions like one found in an A-level history class: “Lord Cromer was a successful consul-general of Egypt. To what extent do you agree?” Lord Cromer, or Evelyn Baring, was the British Consul-General in Egypt from 1883 to 1907, a period of profound British control. While a student might argue against his ‘success’ by citing his imposition of an unfair land tax or restrictions on education, the very premise accepts that a colonial ruler’s impact on a subjugated population can be measured in such terms. It ignores the prior question of the right to rule. This approach, focusing on the effectiveness of figures like Cromer—whose policies are criticised for prioritising British financial interests like cotton exports over the welfare of the Egyptian peasantry—is symptomatic of a wider curricular flaw.
A Curriculum of Omission and Selective Memory
This selective scrutiny extends beyond individual figures. Take the Edexcel A-level module “Britain: losing and gaining an empire, 1763-1914.” When covering the 1857 Indian Uprising—a major rebellion against British East India Company rule—the specification directs students to study the “strengths” and “weaknesses” of British governor-generals. Meanwhile, the Great Bengal Famine of 1770, which historians estimate killed between 10 and 30 million people and was exacerbated by Company policies, is absent. The legacy of reforms initiated over a decade ago by the former Education Secretary Michael Gove, which critics argued risked promoting a more triumphalist narrative, appears persistent. The curriculum, as a result, often sings tales of “great men” and imperial “heroes” while remaining silent on the experiences of the colonised.
This amnesia is not benign. As historian David Olusoga has argued, British history has “always been a dialogue,” yet in Britain it is often treated as a monologue. The legacies of colonialism, from the Balfour Declaration of 1917—which shaped the modern Middle East—to the Great Irish Famine where British policy remains a subject of fierce debate, still reverberate globally. Former colonies often possess a more critical understanding of this shared history, as seen in Commonwealth reactions to events in recent British history. This domestic ignorance excludes the perspectives of millions, including students descended from the very histories their textbooks ignore.
The Systemic Barriers to Teaching the Full Story
The structure of the education system itself seems engineered to maintain this narrow focus. While there are optional GCSE modules on migration and empire, Department for Education figures indicate only 4% of GCSE history students take them. This leaves teachers in a moral and practical bind: choose the less-taught modules and contend with potentially fewer resources, or teach beyond the flawed A-level specification and risk students’ exam performance amid already crushing workloads. The consequence, as scholar-activist Ambalavaner Sivanandan’s famous phrase puts it, is that students are rarely taught the simple historical truth linking empire to modern migration: “We are here because you were there.”
This educational gap has direct social and political consequences. The article argues that far-right and anti-immigration populism gains traction from this ignorance. Narratives framing migration as an “invasion” or a novel “colonisation” of Britain succeed precisely because the public is not taught what colonial conquest truly entailed or the positive, vital role migration to Britain has played throughout history.
Hope for a Different Future
There is an alternative model. The article points to Germany’s concept of Vergangenheitsbewältigung—the “working-off of the past.” This process, embodied in Berlin’s plaques, memorials, and museums dedicated to the Holocaust, is cited as an example of how confronting difficult history can strengthen national understanding rather than diminish it. The classroom could serve a similar purpose in Britain, arming students with the intellectual tools to challenge simplistic narratives.
The opportunity for change may be imminent. A recent curriculum review has recommended a shake-up of what is taught in schools. For students currently facing exam questions on the “successes” of Victorian imperialists, the hope is that future generations will be tasked with a more profound, critical, and inclusive examination of Britain’s colonial past—a change deemed urgently necessary politically, socially, and morally.
