II Ecology, Climate and Empire

colonialism and global environmentalhistory, 1400-1940

Richard H. GroveAustralian National University

The Whiten Horse Press

Copyright © Richard H. Grove 1997

First Published 1997 by The White Horse Press, 10 High Street,Knapwell, Cambridge CB3 8NR, UK

Set in 11 Point Adobe GaramondPrinted and Bound in Great Britain by BiddIes Ltd, King's Lynn

All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for thepurpose of criticism and review, no part of this book may be reprintedor reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanicalorother means, including photocopying or recording, or in any informa­tion storage or retrieval system, without permission from the publisher.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 1-874267-18-9 (HB); 1-874267-19-7 (PB)

...:

For Vinita

Acknowledgements

Contents

IX

Introduction 1

1. The Evolution of the Colonial Discourse on Deforestationand Climate Change 1500-1940 5

2. Conserving Eden: The (European) East India Companiesand their Environmental Policies on St Helena, Mauritiusand in Western India, 1660-1854 37

3. Scottish Missionaries, Evangelical Discourses and the Origins'of Conservation Thinking in Southern Africa, 1820-1900 86

4. The East India Company, the .(\ustralians and the El Nifio:Colonial Scientists and Ideas about Global Climatic Changeand Teleconnections between! 1770 and 1930 124

5. Chiefs, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands: EarlyNationalism and the Defeat of Colonial Conservationismin the Gold Coast and Nigeria, 1870-1916 147

6. Colonial Conservation, Ecological Hegemony andPopular Resistance: Towards a Global Synthesis 179

Index 225

Richard Grove was born in Cambridge in 1955. After a schooling inGhana and England he graduated in Geography from Hertford CollegeOxford in 1979. Following a graduate schooling in Conservation atUniversity College London he took a PhD at Cambridge University inHistory and was subsequently a BritishAcademy Research Fellow and aFellow of the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars inWashington DC. Currently he is a Senior Fellow of the Institute ofAdvanced Studies at tire Australian National University, and a lifemember ofClare Hall, Cambridge. He is founder-editor of the interna­tional journal Environmentand History. His books include The Cam­bridgeshire CoproliteMining Rush(1976), TheFutureforForestry (1983),The SSSI Handbook (1985), Conservation in Africa: People, Policies andPractice (1987) Green Imperialism: Colonial Expansion, Tropical IslandEdens and the Origins of Environmentalism 1600-1800 (1995) andNatureand the Orient: theEnvironmentalHistory ofSouthand SoutheastAsia (1997). Major parts ofthis book were created while he was a Fellowof the National Humanities Center, North Carolina and a LeverhulmeTrust Award-holder at the University of Cambridge and the AncientIndia and Iran Trust, Cambridge, U.K. ~'.

ri/~

.~

Acknowledgements

This book represents a long period ofmy research life, but is particularlythe fruit ofmy associations with the Australian National University andthe History ofScience Department at Cambridge. During the course ofit I have incurred many personal and intellectual debts most ofwhich Icannot hope to repay. The work originated in my own environmentalactivism. In that respect I should like to pay tribute to the work ofChrisRose, Charles Secrett and Andrew Lees. Andrew, sadly, died in tragiccircumstances in Madagascar, while he was, characteristically, confront-ing major logging and mining interests in the region. .

In the last few years Polly Hill has been a great friend and mentor and Ihope that she will like this book. Her work on economic anthropologyin West Mrica, begun while at the University ofGhana, is unparalleled.Moreover, her sharp awareness of the signficance of the forest environ­ment and the history ofland use change in the context ofcocoa and dryland farming in Ghana and Nigeria inspired me to take up an interest inWest Mrica, the results ofwhich appear as a chapter in this book. PeterHerbst, another emeritus academic ofthe University ofGhana, has alsoinspired me with his historical ihsights and commitment to the cause offorest protection in New South;Wales. In Canberra I would particularlylike to thank Janet Copland, a iprominent green activist who made mytransition to Australia much easier than it might have been. The bookwas originally started while I was a Fellow of the National HumanitiesCenter in Durham, North Carolina in 1996. In that congenial place Idrew richly from the great knowledge of Wayne Pond, Mario Klarer,Tim Breen and many others. At the Forest History Society in nearbyDurham I was greatly helped by Pete Steen and Cheryl Oakes, and theirstaff, aswell as by the great resources ofthe Book Exchange, the'greatestbookshop in the South'. Asusual, John Richards and Betsy Flintwere myfriends and intellectual guides at Duke University. Many of the ideas inthis book were first tried out at seminars at the Cabinet of NaturalHistory in the HistoryofScience Department in Cambridge, aswe began

, ,i

to build up the Global Environmental History Unit. At Cambridge too,Clare Hall has been a great source of scholarlysupport, principallythrough the agency ofGillian Beer and Wenda, who knows everythingthat goes on. In Malawi John Killick was a most hospitable host, and agreat raconteur ofthe myths ofthe Mulange forests. William Beinart andBarry Supple have, asever, been wonderfully constant friends and guides.At the Australian National University, which has now become a majorworld centre for environmental history, I have benefited greatly from the'enjoyable but rigorous intellectual company of Graeme Snooks, BarrySmith, Mark Elvin, Tim Bonyhady and John Dargavel.

I should also like to thank James Cormack, Nick Jardine, SimonSchaffer, Ranabir Chakravarti, Mahesh Rangarajan, Ravi Rajan, ColyerDawkins, JeffBurley, Quentin Cronk, Richard Tucker, Deepak Kumar,Satpal Sangwan, Sita Damodaran, Martin Abdullahi, Richard Drayton,Ajay Skaria, RobertAnderson, Peggy Harper, Vera White, Ann Chivers,Adrian Walford and Piers Vitebsky. lowe a great deal to Andrew andAlison Johnson for pulling the book together so efficiently.

I am grateful to Manchester University Press for permission to includeChapters 1 and 6. A version ofthe former appeared as 'Imperialism andthe discourse ofdesiccation' in M. Bell, R. Butlin and M. Heffernan, eds,Geography and Imperialism, 1820-1940 (Manchester Univer-wr Press,1995); the latter was first published in John Mackenzie, ed., Im!flrialismand theNatural World(Manchester University Press, 1990). CakbridgeUniversity Press kindly gavepermission to reprint Chapter 2, wHichfirstappeared in Comparative Studies in Society and History, XX (1993), pp.318-351. Chapter 3 originally appeared in JournalofSouthern AfricanStudies, 15 (1989), pp. 163-187; this journal is now published byCarfaxPublishing Company, PO Box 25, Abingdon, Oxfordshire, whosepermission to reproduce the chapter is duly acknowledged.

Finally, I should like to thank the Australian National University, theLeverhulme Trust and the BritishAcademy for their financial support ofresearch published here.

Canberra Day, March 17th 1997

Ecology, Climate and Empire

Thegorge ofthe Torakudu river, as it was drawn by Captain D.Hamilton on Hugh Cleghorn sexpedition to theAnnamalai Mountains,South India, in 1851. (From Cleghorn, The Forests and Gardens of

South India)

Introduction

book aims to serve as an introduction to a relatively new area ofresearch on the environmental history ofthe European colonial empires.There are at least two major reasons why the history of the colonialperiphery is now emerging as vital to an understanding of the develop­ment of perceptions of the global environment, both for historians andhistorians ofscience. Firstly, it was in the tropical colonies that scientistsfirst came to a realisation ofthe extraordinary speed at which people, andEuropeans in particular, could transform and destroy the natural envi­ronment. Above all the environments of tropical islands played a veryprominent part in this development ofmental perceptions. Secondly, thecolonial context also stimulated a dramatic growth in scientific and stateinterest in the apparent links between climate change and deforestation.This led directly to a series of state programmes directed at large scaleforest conservation, especially in the French and British colonial empiresand then, more latterly, in the western 'frontier empire' of the UnitedStates and its colonies. Manyofthy 'experts' involved in this process werewhat we might now term 'environmentalists', at least from a post-hocperspective, with all the limitations that involves. Nevertheless, thedepth and sophistication of their' concerns considerably pre-dated theemergence ofcomparable notions in Europe. Their preoccupations areespecially topical to the climatic and environmental worries of today.

The structure of the book is essentially chronological. It will soonbe apparent to the reader that I have placed considerable emphasis on thecritical importance ofIndia to the course ofdevelopments in climatic andconservation thinking in the rest of the world. The story of the involve­ment of the British East India Company in natural history and then inforest management was of particular importance. This may come as asurprise when one considers the undoubted commercial priorities ofanorganisation that was, in some senses, a forerunner of the majortransnational companies that emerged in the late nineteenth century.But the East India Company was also an intrinsically Indian institution

and one that placed far more value on indigenous expertise than its Raj.successor. As a result its experts were able to 'absorb a great deal ofsignificant local knowledge about the tro~ical environment and tosuggest strategies for its management based on local pr.ecep~s. ~he fear offamine and gross agrarian failure was a vital factor In bringing aboutstructures for forest, soil and water conservation, as the first two chaptersof the book make clear. The spectre of famine, particularly after thedisastrous drought episode of 1862, was also a major fa~tor in the adventof state conservation in South Mrica, the story told In chapt~r three.Although conservation and climatic thinking in So~thern.Africa wereheavily derivative ofconcepts first .thought. thro~gh In India and Mau­ritius the colonial environmental discourse InMnca owed a great deal ~othe maverick campaigning and writing of one man, John CroumbieBrown. In particular Brown successfully propagandised the idea ofregional and global desiccation and climate change brought about by the'evils' of deforestation. . .

However, it fell to scientists in Indian and thenAustralian colonial

employ to collect evidence for global ~eleco~nections ~n climate change,a concern that arose initially out of failures In the Indian monsoon. Wenow know that these were often closely related to severe El Nifio currentevents, periodic climatic episodes triggered by unusually warm .o~ean

currents off the coast of Peru. The history of the discovery of ~IStl?ct

patterns and correlations involved in ~lobal ~lima.te change by '1l~ntls~s

operating at the colonial periphery IS detailed In chapte.r f0'tL ThISaccount should help to finally put paid to the idea populansedh' somehistorians that science in the colonies was inherently secondary'and farfrom the cuttingedge offundamental discovery. In fact, the reversese~msto have been the case in many of the medical, field and meteorologicalsciences. Indeed, the idea ofa monolithic colonial scientific mentality ~s

one that needs to be seriously questioned. The links between metropoli­tan 'centres of calculation' and the activities of colonial scientists wereoften ofa tenuous and ambivalent kind. Instead, the relations betweenI al colonial experts and local colonial administrations were probablyoc Wh . di

more important than researchers have previously thought. . ere In Ig-

enous people were employed as scientists by the col~nIal. st~te, ashappened as early as the 1830s in India and by the 1880s In Nigeria, thepicture was an even more complex one.

3Introduction

However, there is no doubt that the introduction of oftendraconian colonial forest and land management structures, albeit de­signed to check climate change and promote sustainable resource use,actually brought about frequent clashesand contests over land use. Thesetypically involved the colonial state, private companies and local peopleas separate and competing actors in contests ofgovernance, protest andmanipulation. In some instances colonised peoples succeeded in block­ing the advent of state forest or soil conservation and then turning thecolonial programmes to their own ends. This is the picture presented inchapter five. More frequently, as I make clear in the concluding chapter,the enforcement ofcolonial attempts at environmental control resultedin a whole typology ofresistance and reaction by indigenous peoples andcolonial inhabitants. These reactions were often the catalyst to violentand significant political changes, ranging right through from the Ameri­can Revolution to the Mau-Mau revolt.

In many ways the business of empire, for most of the colonised,had far more to do with the impact of different modes of colonialresource control and colonial environmental concepts, than it had to dowith the direct impact of military or political structures. Some groupsgained from the new forms ofcontrol, while many others clearly lost out.Some colonial officials favoured indigenous environmental knowledgeand criticised the application ofwestern methods, while other officialspreferred to see the 'native' as uniformly profligate and possessed ofnouseful environmental insights. By and large the latter perception tendedto win the day, but it was by no means always the case.

Why is it worth studying these past struggles over land use andenvironmental meaning and mechanism? There are many reasons,practical and academic. But not least is the fact that in the post-colonialperiod, many 'independent' governments, most of them actually run byisolated social elites, have tended to repeat, sometimes even more crudelyand brutally, the arrogant environmental mistakes made by their colonialpredecessors. Frequently they have displayed the same disdain anddisrespect for indigenous and traditional knowledge. Large-scale prestigeprojects for dam-building, irrigation, land development and afforesta­tion or deforestation have proved to be just as seductive to post-colonialas to colonial governments, and past mistakes have simply been re-runon much larger scales. Some of them might have been avoided, given

Ecology, Climateand Empire2

sufficient historical insight. Moreover, current.and fashionable worriesabout climate change and global warming actually have a very longpedigree that mlghrwell repay.careful study, ~s~eCi.allywith respect to theambivalent and difficult relations between sciennsts and the state.

Current preoccupations with a 'global' environmental crisisaboutpollution, climate change and resource over-use are now the problem ofeveryman and everywoman and ofall sta~es. But ~he~wereforesha~owedin the early days ofempire by the dramatic globaltsatlon ofeconomic andnatural transformations that was enabledduring the colonial period. Theoften (although not always) grievous ecological impact ofwesternisationand empire, which took centuries to take effect, is now felt almosteverywhere, and is probably irreversible. It is this fat~ful ~lobalisation

which has forced an environmental agenda upon historians, amongmany others. But it has, I think, also forced a new historical agenda uponthe scientists. These people, no longer always seen favourably as theharbingers ofan unalloyed progress and prosperity, now find themselvesneeding to seek insights in historical pattern and analysis. To take oneexample, we can only understand the complex dynamics and undoubt­edly profound impact of the EI Nifio current on world climate andeconomies by a sophisticated interpretation of archival sources. As yet,this task has barely been commenced.

It is probably a measure ofthe growing relevance ofenvironmen­tal history to human affairs that its academic centre of gravi~pasnowshifted firmly away from North America and Europe to Sl1\1tth andSoutheast Asia and Africa. Perhaps not surprisingly it is parti~larly inIndia that the historiography of the subject has become especfally richand well developed. Indeed much ofthe environmental history ofSouthAsia (and elsewhere) is being written by individuals who started theircareers asenvironmental activists. But this is reallynothing new. WilliamRoxburgh, the pioneer ofclimatology in India, and Hugh Cleghorn, thepioneer offorest protection, were.themselves ear~y environmental hi~to­rians, ever ready to irritate authority and break with orthodoxy. I beltevethat they would have appreciated and thoroughly understood thegrowing importance ofenvironmental history in the tropics today. Thisbook is intended to encourage that development.

4 Ecology, Climate and Empire

1

The Evolution of the Colonial Discourseon Deforestation and Climate Change,

1500-1940

Concepts of artificially induced climatic change have a much longerhistory than one might imagine.' Nowadays, of course, they havebecome a part of our popular culture, and part of a widespread andpossibly justifiable environmental neurosis. They are especially familiarand useful in providing the justification for new plans to prevent tropicaldeforestation and reduce outputs ofcarbon dioxide into the atmosphere.

It is, moreover, not well known that the fear ofartificially causedclimate change, and much of the modern conservation thinking whichthat anxiety stimulated, developed specifically in the tropical colonialcolltext.

2These fears and these connections attained their most vigorous

forms, in terms of deliberate state policy, during the heyday of imperi­alism. After about 1750 a few learned societies at the metropolitan centrehad begun to playa major role in formulating and then propagandisingideas about deforestation, desiccation and climate change, often asa basisfor proposing large scale forest 40nservation. The Royal Society, theRoyal Society ofAr ts, the Acadern iedes Sciences and, above all, the RoyalGeographical Society were pre-eminent in this activity. However, theantecedents ofthis institutional advocacy have to be sought very early onin the history ofcolonialism. This chapter seeks to narrate the develop­ment of ideas about climate change and 'desiccationism' through fromtheir earliest emergence to their current prominence in our own times.

An awareness of the detrimental effects of colonial economic

I For more specific regional details of this see Chapter 2.

2 See R.H. Grove, 'The origins ofenvironmentalism', Nature (London), 10 May 1990,pp. 5-11.

3 There is no single useful work on the environmental impact ofcolonial rule. Howeversee the useful secondary summaries in Clive Ponting's A green history of the world(London, 1991); and the useful regional study by David Watts, The WestIndies:pattemsofdevelopment, cultureand environmentalchange, since 1492 (Cambridge, 1987).Aplagueofsheep, by Elinor Melville (Cambridge, 1994) tackles the environmental impact ofSpanish colonisation and horse-culture in 16th century Mexico.

~ The most useful contextualisation ofTheophrastus is in C. Glacken, Traces on theRhodianshore (Berkeley, 1967).

5 See Edmund Halley, 'An account of the watry circulation of the sea, and of the causeofsprings', Philosophical Transactions ofthe RoyalSociety, 192:17 (1694), pp, 468-472,

activity and, above all, ofcapitalist plantation agriculture {the potentialprofits from which had stimulated much early colonial settlement}developed initially on the small island colonies of the Portuguese andSpanish at the Canary Islands and Madeira." it was on these islands thatthe ideas first developed by the Greek naturalist Theophrastus in hisessays on deforestation and climate change were revived and graduallygathered strength. as his works were translated and widely publishedduring the Renaissance.' For example Columbus, according to one ofhisbiographers,feared, on the basis ofhis knowledge ofwhat had happenedafter deforestation in the Canaries, that similar devastation in the WestIndies would cause major rainfall decline.

Certainly these ideas were already fashionable by 1571 whenFernandez Oviedo, in Costa Rica, soon followed by Francis Bacon andEdmund Halley in England, began to theorise about the connectionsbetween rainfall, vegetation and the hydrological cycle.5Edmund Halley'sfieldwork on this subject, carried out in 1676 on the island ofSt Helenaduring a summer vacation, while he was a student at Queen's CollegeOxford, showed remarkable insight. Furthermore it was on St Helenathat some of the earliest and best documented attempts were made toprevent deforestation and control soil erosion, both of which wereserious by the end of the seventeenth century. These attempts wereelaborately recorded by officials of the English East India Company,which controlled the island. However the early conservation wpthodsand local environmental thinking developed before 1750 on isla~s suchas St Helena, and also in a similar fashion on,Barbados and Moiserrat,were purely empirically based, localised and often unsucces~ful in

7Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

a~plic~tion.6 Indeed. they were not based on any coherent body of

climatic theory, despite the knowledge ofTheophrastus' desiccationisthypotheses that already existed in some intellectual circles in Europe andSouth America.

The increasingly complex infrastructures of colonial rule underthe British and French after the mid-eighteenth century provided thebasis for the kinds of information networks needed to systematicallycollat~ enviro~mental information on a global basis and to respond toperceived environmental crises with effective forms of environmentalcontrol based on unitary climate theories. These information networkswere based primarily on the botanic gardens ofEurope and the coloniesand were a direct consequence of the rapid growth in interest ineconomic plant transfer and agricultural development which took placebetween 1750 and 1850,7 But these networks were not sufficient on their~wn. As I shall argue in this paper the development of conservationist'Ideas.and. early en~iron.mental concern was also critically dependent onthe diffusion ofdesiccation concepts, or the formulation ofadesiccationistdiscour~elin~ngdef~res~ation to rainfall reduction. Developing notionsof specIes ranty, extinctions and endemism also played a significantalthough secondary part in early environmentalism." To some extent itseems that the colonial networks of botanical exchange and the botanic

6 Detailed information on the environmbntal history of the West Indies and on earlconservation thinking on the islands cati be found in Watts, The WestIndies. For ~excelle~tcasestudrofMontserrat seeLydi1a M. Pulsipher, Seventeenth centuryMontserrat:an enoironmental Impactstatement(London, Institute ofBritish Geographers, HistoricalGeography Research Series no. 14, 1986).

7 Unfortun~tely there is as yet no coherent account of the growth of these networks ona global basis, For a sketchy and doctrinaire but still useful account ofcolonial botanicgardens see ~ucille M. Brockway, Science and colonial expansion: the roleofthe BritishRoyalBotanicG~rde~ (New YO,rk, 1979). Richard Drayton, Nature'sGovernment(NewJ:!aven,Yale University Press, In press) deals with the ideology and politics behind therise of the Kew system. The origins of the Dutch colonial system ofplant exchange areusefully c~vered for the seventeenth century by J. Heniger in Hendrik Van Reede totDrakenstemand the Hortus Malabaricus: a contribution to the study ofcolonialbotany(Rotterdam, 1986).

8 My i~terpretat!on of the origins of western environmentalism clearly differs in itsemphasis on the Importance of the periphery from such orthodox explanations as that

Ecology, Climateand Empire6

given in David Pepper, The roots ofmodernenvironmentalism (London, 1986). Morerecent work has been far more insightful than that of Pepper in its stress on thesignificance of Rousseau's circle in provoking a new environmental consci0utl\c;ss,see,for example, G.F. Lafreniere, 'Rousseau and the European roots ofenvironm~-alism',EnvironmentalHistory Review, 14 (1990), pp. 241-273. Even Lafreniere, how;;jer, doesnot recognise the direct impact ofRousseau's thinking on the beginnings ofcon?Frvationin the French colonial context. Perhaps the best regional work to date on the earlyhistoryofconservation is L. Urteaga, La Tierra Esquilmada; lasideas sabrela conseruacion de lanaturaleza en la cultura espanola del siglo XVIII (Barcelona, Serbal\CSIC, 1987).

9 The best study to date on the working and social influence ofa single colonial scientificinstitution is probably J. E. Maclellan, Colonialism and science: Saint Dominique in theOld Regime (Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1992).

to Emma Spary, 'Climate, natural history and agriculture, the ideology of botanicalnetworks in eighteenth century France and its colonies', unpublished paper presented atthe International Conference on Environmental Institutions, St Vincent, West Indies,April 1991. See also Emma Spary, 'Making the natural order: the Paris Jardin du Roi,1750-1795' (Ph.D. thesis, University of Cambridge, 1993).

II SeeK.Thompson, 'Forests and climatic change inAmerica: some earlyviews', ClimaticChange, 3 (1983); pp.47-64.

9

--------

Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

,I

12 For a typical contemporary expression of these views see Edward Long, A history ofJamaica, (London, 1777), vol.3, pp. i-iv.

13 For the significance of tree-planting in Britain at this time see K. Thomas, Man andthenaturalworld: changingattitudesin England1500-1800 (London, 1983); F. Perlin,Afbres«journey: the role ofwoodin thedevelopment ofcivilization (New York, 1989); andS. Daniels, 'The political ieonographyofwoodland', in D. Cosgrove and S. Daniels, Theiconography oflandscape (Cambridge, 1988).

14 For the early programmes and ideology of the RoyalSocieryofArts seeD. G.C. Adams,William Shipley: fOunder of the RoyalSociety ofArts, a biography with documentation(London, Scolar Press, 1979); and Henry Trueman Wood, A history oftheRoyalSocietyofArts (London, John Murray, 1913).

15 J. Woodward, 'Some thoughts and experiments concerning vegetation', PhilosophicalTransactions oftheRoyalSociety, 21 (1699), pp. 196-227.

Caribbean and the Indian Ocean.P

The business of forest protection and tree-planting had thusacquired, by the late eighteenth century, far more acute meanings in thecolonial setting than it had in contemporary Europe. 13 The timing ofthedevelopment ofcolonial forest protection actually depended both on theexistence and complexityofinstitutions with an intellectual involvementin the colonies and on the pattern of diffusion of desiccationist ideas.Whilst the Royal Society had taken an early interest in forest preserva­tion, colonial deforestation was not a concern ofthe Society, even thoughit played a part in the development of the desiccationist discourse in thelate seventeenth century. Instead the institutional connection betweendesiccation ideas and the colonial environment was made in the wake ofthe foundation of the Society of Arts in 1754.14 Simultaneously theAcademic des Sciences developed an interest in the matter, so that theintercourse between French and British intellectuals became of primeimportance in the development of colonial environmentalism andindeed remained so until the mid nineteenth century.

The elaboration ofearly desiccation ideas into complex physicaland biological theories depended at first on the work of]ohn Woodwardat Gresham College in London ( the founder ofthe first chair in geologyat Cambridge University) in establishing the basic principles of transpi­ration.P In his Vegetable Staticks of 1726 Stephen Hales of CorpusChristi College, Cambridge refin1d this work further in estimating theamount ofmoisture contributed by trees to the atrnosphere.P Buffon's

Ecology, Climate and Empire8

gardens themselves acted as social institutions that encouraged the slowdevelopment of an environmental consciousness."

The linking of deforestation to climatic change and rainfallreduction (the essence ofdesiccationism) laid the basis for the initiationand proliferation ofcolonial forest protection systems after the Peace'ofParis in 1763, particularly in the West Indies. The intense interest whichdeveloped during the eighteenth century, particularly in France, intheories linking climate to theories ofcultural 'degeneration' and humanevolution assisted this process." But after about 1760 empirical observa­tions of deforestation and the impact of droughts in the colonies werenow complemented by the widespread promulgation of desiccationisttheories by metropolitan institutions in Britain and France, and espe­cially by the Academic des Sciences in France and the Society ofArts inBritain. While deforestation in temperate countries, especially in NorthAmerica, tended to be seen as beneficial, quite the opposite viewpertained in many of the tropical colonies by the late eighteenthcentury. I I Climatic change, it was believed, threatened not only theeconomic well-being ofa colony but posed hazards to the integrity andhealth of the settler populations of the plantation colonies of the

16 A. Clark-Kennedy, Stephen Hales, DD, FRS: an eighteenth century biography (Cam­bridge, 1929). See Stephen Hales, Vegetable Staticks (London, 1727), p. 20. Hales oweda great deal to the pioneering chemical work of the Leiden establishment and citedHermann Boerhave's New Method ofChemistry translated into English in 1727 by P.Shaw and E. Chambers.

'7 Duhamel du Monceau, Dessemisetplantations desarbresetde leurculture (Paris, 1760).

18 Royal Society of Arts Archives, John Adam Street, London WI, Members' Files.

19 R. Rompkey, Soame[enyns (Boston Mass., Twayne Publishers, 1984)j and 'SoarneJenyns, M.P., a curious case of membership',]ournal ofthe Royal Society ofArts, 120(1972), pp. 532-542. See also PRO/CO/I02/1, beginning 'representations of thecommissioners', Public Record Office, Kew, UK.

20 Public Record Office, Kew, UK. Ref. No. COI06/9j COI0l/1 No. 26

11Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

reserves, based on the same theory and with the same intellectualprecedents, were established on Mauritius (then known as the Isle deFrance) by Pierre Poivre, the Commissaire-Intendant of the colony.?!We know that Poivre had been an advocate ofcolonial forest protectionfor some time and that he had given, in 1763, a major speech in Lyonson the climatic dangers ofdeforestation.22 This speech may go down inhistory as one ofthe first environmentalist texts to be based explicitly ona fear ofwidespread climate change.

Poivre's forest conservation programmes on Mauritius were en­couraged by a government of physiocratic sympathies and by thebotanists ofthe Jardin du Roi in Paris. 23 In the British Caribbean colonieson the other hand, the more autonomous institutional influence of theSociety ofArts remained critical to promoting tree planting and, to alesser extent, forest conservation. The Society had been instrumental infounding the botanic garden at Kingstown on St Vincent, the first suchgarden in the western hemisphere.F" It was the existence of this gardenand the activities of its superintendents, particularly those ofAlexanderAnderson, a Scottish physician, that ensured institutional support forfurther forest protection measures in the Caribbean, especially on StVincent and the other islands of the Grenada Governorare.P On St

21 See J .R. Brouard, The woods and ,forests of Mauritius (Port Louis, Mauritius,Government Printer, 1963). I

22 Lecture to the Agricultural Society ofLyons, MS no. 575, folio 74, pp. 27-29; Archivesof the Bibliorheque Centrale du Museum National d'Histoire Naturelle, Paris.

23 Louis Malleret, Pierre Poiure (Paris, 1~74). Physiocracywas an economic philosophydevelop.edafter about 1757 in France byFrancois Quesnay and the Marquis de Mirabeauand their colleagues. It attempted to relate economic systems to the workings ofnaturalsystems. It was an economic philosophy that was very hostile to the unrestricted activityofspeculative bullion and investment markets and to absentee landlordism. Physiocracyencouraged the application ofscience to agriculture and commerce but saw agricultureas the most important economic activity. ,

24 See Premiums by the Society established at London for the encouragement ofArts,Manufactures and Commerce, issue dr 10June 1760. The society offered large cash prizesfor tree pl~nting and in this case for the establishment of a botanic garden, which itadvocated In 1760. The garden was actually founded in 1763 by Robert Melville, the firstGovernor of the Grenada Governorate. See R. Dossie, Memoirs ofagriculture, vol. 3(London, 1789), p. 800.

Ecology, Climate and Empire

subsequent translation ofHales'swork came to the-attention ofDuhameldu Monceau, the great French meteorologist and, a~boriculturist. In apopular work on tree-planting, published in 1760, du Monceau devel­oped the connections between trees and climate at length. I? These ideaswere then transferred across the channel once again and were widelydiscussed at meetings of the new Society of Arts, which included theMarquis de Turbilly, the Comte d'Abeille and other members of theAcademie des Sciences among its members. 18 However the whole mattermight have remained academic had it not been for the fact that at leasttwo members of the Society of Arts also served as members of thepowerful Lords Commissioners for Trade in the Colonies, the bodyresponsible for planning land-use in the new West Indies possessions.

The most significant of these figures was Soame Jenyns, the MPfor Cambridge.l" It seems to have been due to his influence that the LordsCommissioners were apprised ofdesiccation ideas at some point between1760 and 1763. With the signing ofthe Peace ofParis in 1763 the CededIsles ofSt Vincent, St Lucia, Grenada and Tobago all came under Britishrule. As part oftheir plans for the survey and division oflands on the isles,all of them still inhabited by substantial numbers of Carib Indians, theLords Commissioners made provision for the gazetting oflarge areas ofmountain land as forest reserve, for 'the protection of the rains' .20 Thesewere the first forest reserves ever to be established with a view topreventing climate change. The most extensive ofthem, on the hi~landsofnorth-western Tobago, is still in existence. In 1769 some very'(tinilar

,~~ ?

10

,~F

II

A section ofthe King's Hill ForestAct of1791, delineating the bounds

12 Ecology, Climate and Empire Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

ofthe reserve, one ofthe world'sfirst climatic reserves. (Courtesy PRO)

13

Vincent a comprehensive law was passed in 1791 to protect the KingsHill Forest with the specific intention of preventing rainfall change."This legislation was subsequently imitated on St Helena and subse­quently in IndiaYIncidentally a major stimulus to forest protectionactivities in 1790 and 1791 was the occurrence ofdroughts in tropicalregions on a global scale." These events appear to have been caused byan unusually strong El Nifio current in those years, which caused severedrought in Southern India, Australia, St Helena and the West Indies aswell as at locations in central America, especially in Mexico."

Once colonial forest protection ideas, based on desiccation theo-

25 There is as yet no useful of comprehensive biography of Alexander Anderson'sextraordinary life.But seeLancelot Guilding,An accountofthebotanicgarden in theislandofSt Vincent (Glasgow, 1825) for some biographical details.

26 The act was proclaimed at St Vincent on 2 April 1791. The second reading of the billfor the Act had taken place in the St Vincent Assembly on 13 November 1788. PROC0263\21.

27 See Chapter 2.

28 For case-studies of the way in which the El Nifio current has historically had a globalimpact see Michael Glantz, ed., Teleconnections linking worldwide climate anomalies:scientific basis and social impact(Cambridge, 1991).

29 For details of the unusual strength of the El Nifio current in the years 1790-1792 (aswell as for details of evidence of other major El Nifio events see W.H. Quinn and V.T.Neal, 'El Nifio occurrences over the past four and a halfcenturies' .fournal of~~ophysicalResearch, vol. 92 no. Cl3 (1987), pp. 14449-14461. The strength of the 179'~~! Nifiowas recorded by J. H. Unanue in El climade Lima (Madrid, 1815)'1,"

In the West Indies detailed records of the 1791 droughts appear in the Pr~eedings

of the LegislativeAssembly of Montserrat for the year 1791, dt 13August 179 {(Petitionof the Council to the Governor of the Leeward Islands), Archives of the Colony ofMontserrat, Public Library, Plymouth, Montserrat, BWI. On St Helena the 1791droughts are recorded in H.R. Janisch, Extracts from theSt Helena Records (Jamestown,1908), p. 202, entrydt25 June 1791. Bad as the drought was inSt Helena in 1791-1792it was 'much more calamitous in India' (Alexander Beatson, Tracts relative to the islandofSt Helena, writtenduringa residency offive years [London, 1816], p. 198). Beatsonrecorded that 'owing to a failure of rain during the above two years, one half of theinhabitants in the northern circar had perished by famine and the raminder were sofeebleand weak that on the report of rice coming up from the Malabar coast five thousandpeople left Rajamundry and very few of them reached the seaside although the distanceis only fifty miles'. Beatson had culled this information from a letter written by Dr JamesAnderson, Curator of the Madras Nopalry Garden, to Robert Kyd, curator of theCalcutta botanic garden. The evidence for the 1791 drought in Australia is impression-

istic but decisive. By the end of 1791 the Tank Stream, the main water supply for theconvict colony at PortJackson, had dried up and 'tanks' were cut in the bed of the streamto conserve water. Drawings of the colony in early 1792 show that the stream was stillempty, while in later pictures of Sydney the stream isalwaysfull; seeT. McCormick, Firstviews of'Australia 1788-1825 (Sydney, 1987).

30 This emerges in the correspondence of Sir Joseph Banks; seeW. R. Dawson, ed., TheBanksletters: a calendar ofthe manuscript correspondence ofSirjoseph Bankspreserved inthe British Museum, London(London, 1958).

31 Alexander Anderson, 'Geography and History of St Vincent', and 'Delugia', bookmanuscripts, Archives of the Linnaean Society, London.

32 Bruno Latour, We haveneverbeen modern (Cambridge, Mass., 1993).

1Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

ries,were firmly installed, notably on Tobago, St Vincent, St Helena andMauritius, they acquired a momentum of their own, assisted byemerg_ing colonial botanic garden information networks, and particularly thelines of communication between the gardens at St Vincent, St Helena,Cape Town, Mauritius and Calcutta.t" The influence of the metropoli­tan centres in these networks was actually relatively weak. This remainedthe case even after Sir Joseph Banks began his period of dominance ofbotanical science in Britain and Kew began to achieve pre-eminence.Although aware ofthe possibilities ofenvironmental change, not least onSt Helena, Banks cannot be counted among the major environmentalistpioneers. The Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew only became a significantplayer in colonial conservation after Sir William Hooker became Super­intendent in the 1830s.

Probably the first environmental theorist in the British colonialcontext to parallel the pioneering work ofPierre Poivre and his colleagueBernardin de St Pierre on Mauritius was Alexander Anderson. HisGeography and History ofSt Vincent, written in 1799, and his Delugia,an early geological history of the world, mark him out as a visionaryenvironmental thinker and the pioneer of a generation of surgeon­conservationists and geographers." The colonial expertise of men suchasAnderson and Poivre meant that the role ofmetropolitan institutionsin initiating 'centres ofenvironmental calculation' (to adapt the termi­nology ofBruno Latour)32remained relatively unimportant and deriva­tive. Even much later, after 1800, the emergence ofa school ofenviron­mentalists in India in the ranks of the East India Company medical

Ecology) Climate and Empire14

33 See R.H. Grove, Green imperialism: colonial expansion, tropical islandEdens, and theorigins ofenviromnentalism, 1600-1860 (Cambridge, 1995).34 British Library, India Office Library and Records (IOL) ref no. F4\4\427. For detailsof Roxburgh's tree-planting experiments in Bengal and Bihar seeHome Public Consul­tations letters, National Archives ofIndia, New Delhi; especially letters dated 31 Jan1798 and 23 May 1813, and 'Botanic garden' letters, 1816-1817. His methods aredetailed in HPC, NAl Letter dt. 23 October 1812, E. Barrett (Acting Collector ofBauleah) to Richard Rocke,Acting President and member of the Board of Revenue, Fort

Willliam, Calcutta.35 Alexander von Humboldt, 'Sur les lines isothermes et de la distribution de la chaleursur le globe', Societe d'Arcueil, Memoires, 3 (l817), pp. 462-602.

36 See Chapter 2.

service, long after desiccationist forest protection policies had emergedon the island colonies, was largely an internal and.indigenous matter,drawing heavily on Indian environmental knowledge and tree-plantingpractice, and the desiccationist ideas put into practice on St Vincent andSt Helena. 33 However, the influence of the Society of Arts remainedimportant for a while. For example, William Roxburgh, the secondsuperintendent of the Calcutta Botanic Garden, promoted extensivetree-planting policies in Bengal with the active encouragement of theSociety ofArts." Indian forest conservation practice and environmental­ism after 1842 also drew on the climatic theories of Alexander vonHumboldt and Joseph Boussingault, as well as on the forestry methodsinspired by French physiocracy and its German physiocratic imitator 35

Initially local colonial scientific societies in India provided theimpetus and professional authority necessary to establish the first forestconservation agencies in India to be based on desiccationist notions(specifically the Bombay Forest Department and the Madras ForestDepartmentl.l" In the early 1850s, however, the proponents of forestconservation on an all-India basis found it necessary, in the face ofstatereluctance to finance such an establishment, to resort once more to asource of metropolitan scientific authority, namely the British Associa­tion for the Advancement ofScience. In 1851 the BAAScommissioneda full report on the 'physical and economic consequences' of tropicaldeforestation.V This helped to legitimate the theoretical and e~~iron­

mental basis for the subsequent development of an all-India~;<rorest

37 H ..Cleghorn, F. Royle, R. Baird-Smith and R. Strachey, 'Report of the Committeeappointed by the British Association to consider the probable effects in an economicaland ~h~sical point of view of the destruction of tropical forests', Reportofthe BritishASSOCiatIOn fOr theAdvancementofScience, 1852, pp. 78-102.

38 J.S. Wilson, :C?n the g.en~ral and gradual desiccation of the earth and atmosphere',ReportoftheBritishASSOCiatIOn fOr theAdvancementofScience (Transactions I 1858155-156. '.h ,pp.

39 Bot~ Newton (the originator and drafter of Britain's first bird protection legislationpasse~ In 1868) and Wallace used their respective presidencies ofsections of the BAAS~eetlllgs asplatforms for propagandising their own conservationist agendas. Both menlinked global deforestation and desiccation with species extinctions.

17Evolution o/the Colonial Discourse

administration. Seven years later the BAAS became the forum fordiscussions on 'the general and gradual desiccation of the earth a dat~osphere' in the wal~e ofa paper delivered by J. Spotswood Wilson~38ThI~ paper can be said to mark the onset of a truly internationalenvironmental debate in which processes operating at a global scalewerebeing considered.

In the ensuing two decades the BAAS continued to serve as aforum for advocates of forest and species preservation, Professor AlfredNewton and Alfred Russell Wallace both utilised the BAASfor launch­i~g their co~sen:ationist opinions and programmes and evoking discus­SIOns on exnncuon and deforestation.P? To some extent, however, theB~S proved ~nsa~isfactory as an institutional setting for the airing ofenvironmentalist VIews, partly because it only met for a limited time,once a year, and partly because its influence in the colonial context wasrelatively ,,:eak. As a result the Royal Geographical Society displaced theBAA~, dur~ng the 1860s, as the most prominent institutional setting forthe dISCUSSIOn of the desiccationist and conservationist discourses thatwere rece~ving so much attention from botanists and policy-makers inthe colonies, At this period, it should be pointed out, the constructionof environmental agendas and local land use policies in the Britishcolo~ies, in contrast to the French case, did not yet receive any backingor gUIdanceat all from governmental institutions at the centre. In otherwords, there was no imperial environmental 'centre of calculation'sponsored by the state in Britain itself (and this remained the case untilthe establishment ofthe Imperial Forestry Institute at Oxford in 1924).40

Ecology, Climate anti Empire16

40 To some extent the forestry school founded at Cambridge in 1904 could be seen as acentre ofenvironmental calculation and was certainly responsible for much innovationin colonial forest policy. It was more autonomous in some respects than the later OxfordInstitute which replaced it in 1924. See Cambridge University Library Archives; files onthe Forestry school.

41 For a period Indian foresters were trained at Nancy. See E. P. Stebbing, Theforests ofIndia (Edinburgh, 1922), vols 1 and 2.

Instead any government centres of calculation were all situated at theimperial periphery, especially in Madras, Bombay, Port Louis, CapeTown and, more latterly, at Dehra Dun, the headquarters of the IndianForest Service and training schools.

In France, on the other hand, the imperial forest school at Nancyhad served as a centre of environmental ideas and training, much of itdesiccationist in nature, since 1824. 41 The Royal Geographical Society,therefore, was effectively required to fulfil a centralising role and did soin avelYimportant sense, particularlywith respect to the transfer offorestconservation and desiccation ideas between India, where they hadbecome well established, and the rest of the British colonies, above allthose in Africa. In the course of being utilised in this way the RGSeffectively played a role in the globalisation ofdesiccation concepts andhence a major part in the diffusion of a particularly exclusionist andhegemonic forest conservation ideology. In the course ofacquiring thisenvironmental role the RGS began to undergo a significant transition interms of its own raison d' etre and in terms of the influence which itexerted over the emerging agendas of academic geography.

The publication ofCharles Darwin's Origin ofSpecies in 1859 hadset the scene for a decade of existential and religious crisis in which oldassumptions about birth and death, time and chronology, religion andgeneration, already much fractured, were finally broken. These anxietieswere mirrored, or coped with, [n an unprecedented wave ofenvironmen­tal concern throughout the 1860s. Thus the decade saw the foundationof the all-India forest department, the founding of the CommonsPreservation Society, the passing of the first British bird protectionlegislation and the publication ofG.P. Marsh's Man and Nature and thepublication of0 r H ugh Cleghorn's Forests and Gardens ofSouthIndia.42

19Evolution o/the Colonial DiscourseEcology, Climate and Empire

Professor AlfredNewton, pioneer conservationist. Newton linkedglobaldeforestation and desiccation to species extinctions.

18

42 There isnogeneral work as yeton the'environmental decade' of the1860s. Separateworks onand from theperiod are Lord Eversley (George Shaw-Lefevre), Forests, commonsand ftotpaths (London, 1912); George Perkins Marsh, Man and nature: or physicalgeography astramftrmedbyhumanaction (New York, 1864); H. F.Cleghorn, TheftrestsandgarrkmofSouth India (Edinburgh, 1861). Foravery limited treatment, confined to

Britain itself see J. Sheail, Nature in trust(London, 1976).43 Wilson, 'On thegeneral andgradual desiccation of theearth andatmosphere'.44 J.S. Wilson, 'On the progressing desiccation of the basin of the Orange river inSouthern Africa', Proceedings oftheRoyalGeographicalSociety, IX (1865), pp.106-109.4~ J.S. Wilson, 'On the increasing desiccation of inner Southern Africa', Report oftheBritish Association ftr theAdvancement ofScience (Transactions}, 1864, p. 150

The main focus of academic geography soon reflected this shift in theemergence of 'evolutionary physical geography' -and in the birth of'denudation chronology' .Indeed the RGS Proceedings of2nd May 1869advertised Sopwith's geological models in wood, one ofwhich was called'Valleys of denudation'. And it was in the field of denudation anddesiccation that the RGS and early environmentalists such as HughCleghorn, John Croumbie Brown and George Bidie found much in

common.The intellectual ground had been well prepared by Livingstone's

reports of what he believed to be evidence of chronic and irreversibledesiccation in parts of the Kalahari and northern Bechuanaland. It wasthis data that first stimulated the writing in 1858 of a paper by J.Spotswood Wilson on 'the general and gradual desiccation of the earthand armosphere'r'" This is one the earliest papers on the 'greenhouse'effect and held out the stark promise ofan early extinction ofhumanityas a result ofatmospheric changes brought about by natural desiccationand augmented by the upheaval ofthe land, 'waste by irrigation', and thedestruction of forests. Wilson quoted liberally from the works ofLivingstone and other travellers, giving descriptions ofdesiccated land­scapes in Australia, Africa, Mexico and Peru, all ofwhich had 'formerlybeen inhabited by man', as Wilson put it. On March 13 1865 a paperremarkably similar in theme, especially in its references to SouthernAfrica and to Livingstone's writings, was given at the RGS.44 ~!f;nifi­

candy an earlier version of the paper had first been given at the B!iAS.45t

One may surmise that the fact that the same paper was then deliv~edatthe RGS was due to the intervention of Colonel George Balfourbf the

~6 duelespe~ially Edward Green Balfour, 'Notes of the influence exercised by trees inIn UCIng ram and preservi . '.... J

(1849) 4 ---4 rvIng mcrsrure, maaras JournalofLiterature and Science, 25,pp. 02 48.

47 W'l ' hI son, On t e progressing desiccation'.

21Evolution ofthe ColonialDiscourse

Indian Army, a member of the RGS Council. George Balfour was abroth~r ofDr Edward Green Balfour, then deputy Inspector-General ofHospltals, M~dras Presidency (and later Surgeon-General ofIndia) andone ofthe earlt~st and strongest advocates offorest protection in India.46

At meetlllgs ofthe RGS in 1865 and 1866 Colonel Balfour spokeat s.ome leng~h on devel~pments in forest conservation that were thentaking place III several different colonies. This display ofhis unrivalledknowledge wa~ no mere vanity. George Balfour dearly saw it as his taskto propagandise what he saw as the merits of forest protection instemming the threat ofg~obaldesiccation. By 1865 the terms ofa debateabout the causes of desiccation in the tropics had been set f rI I Wh'l . a more

c ear y. . I e III 1858 it ~ad rem~ine? acceptable to attribute the processto tect~ntc u~heaval (which David Livingstone favoured, for example, )~GS dlScu~slons by March 1865 saw the appearance ofan entirely newInterpretation of global processes of degradation. Desiccation was notnatural, Ja~e~ W~lson argued, 'but was entirely the consequence ofhuman action. WIlson felt that one could demonstrate this well in thcase of~outhMrica. 'The human inhabitants (ofthe Orange river basin)are a prune cause ofthe disaster' he wrote, and'the natives have for agesbeen accustomed to burn the plains and to destroy the timber and ancientforests ...the more denuded of trees and brushwood d h idhid ,an t e more antea? bec~mes, the s,maller the supply ofwater from the atmosphere'.T~us the eviladvances , Wilso~ went on apocalytically, 'in an increasingr~tlo, and, u.nless checked, must advance, and will end in the depopula­tron and entl:e :bandonmenr ofmany spots once thickly peopled, fertileand productive.47 !

. ~e fo~lowed this warning with a global survey of locations inwhich d~matlcchanges had followed on deforestation. The lessons weredear, Wilson thought, where

in ou~ .own British colonies of Barbadoes, Jamaica, Penang, and theMaurItIUS, the fellingof forests has also been attended b di .f '. . ya rrrununono ram. In the Island of Penang, the removal of the jungle from the

Ecology, Climate and Empire20

48 Ibid.

49 Ibid.

summits of hills by Chinese settlers speedily occasioned the springs todry up, and, except during the monsoons, no moisture was left in thedisforested districts. In the Mauritius it has beet;found necessary toretain all lands in the crests of hills and mountains in the hands ofgovernment to bedevoted to forest, the fertilityof the lowerlandshavingbeen found by experienceto depend upon clothing thehillswith wood."

Only draconian controls, it was implied, could stop a world-wide

ruination of the forests of the British colonies and indeed the entire

economic demise of large areas of country. Wilson was especially

concerned with South Africa,

it being a matter of notoriety ....that the removalpiecemealof forests,and the burning off of jungle from the summits of hills has occasionedthe uplands to become dry and the lowlands to lose their springs.......itbecomes of extreme importance to our South African fellow-subjects,that the destruction of the arboreal protectors of water should be

I regarded as a thing to bedeplored, deprecated and prevented;and thatpublic opinion on the matter should be educated.....but we must notstop there. The evil is one of such magnitude and likely to bear soabundant a harvest of misery in the future, that the authority of law,whereverpracticable,should be invoked in order to institute preventivemeasures.Not only should fuel be economized, but the real interests ofthe British coloniesand Dutch republics. for many long years to come,wouldmostcertainlyberepresented bythe passage ofstringentenactmentswhich should in the first place forbid, at any season or under a~.,circumstanceswhatsoever, the firing of grasson field or mountain. Th~'absolute necessity which exists for keeping as large a surface of th,~ground aspossiblecoveredwith vegetation, in order to screen it from thesolar rays, and thus to generate cold and humidity, that the radiationfrom the surface may not drive off the moisture of the rain-bearingclouds in their season,ought to compel the rigid enforcement ofsuch a 'legalprovision.Those colonial acts on this subject which are already inexistence-for the Colonial Parliament at the Cape hasfound it necessaryto passrestrictivemeasures- are not sufficientlystringent to be ofmuchservice, inasmuch as they are not entirely prohibitory, permitting theburning of the field at certain times of year.49

The main discussants of Wilson's seminal paper at the March50 Clements Markham, 'On theeffects ofthedestruction offorests inthe western GhaursofIndiaon thewatersupply', Proceedings a/the RoyalGeographicalSociety, X (1866). pp.266-267.

23Evolution ofthe ColonialDiscourse

1865 RGS meetingwere, on the one side, Drs Livingstone and Kirk, whoboth contested social explanations of deforestation in favour of non­anthropogenic explanations of continental desiccation, which bothbelieved to be taking place in Africa. Ranged on the other side of theargument were Francis Galton, the secretary of the RGS, (and a cousinof Charles Darwin), Colonel George Balfour and Lord Stratford deRedcliffe. Sir RoderickMurchison, chairing the discussion, also declaredhimself in favour of the interpretations offered by Wilson and in favourofhis radical interventionist solutions. Livingstone, for hispart, pointedout that 'the author of the paper did not seem to know that many ofhissuggestions had already been adopted at the Cape, where immensequantities ofEucalypti were grown in the botanic garden for distributionamong those who wished to plant trees. In four years the trees grew to aheight of twenty feet.' Such exchanges of basic information serve toindicate the role which could be played by the RGS. However thediscussion following the Wilson paper also exposed, in a somewhatembarrassing fashion, the very slow nature of the diffusion of environ­mental information and ideas between colonies and, even more, betweencolonies and the imperial Centre.

This was particularly apparent to George Balfour who, in succes­sive RGS debates, saw it as his duty to advertise the efforts made in

particular colonies, above all in India, Mauritius and Trinidad, to protect

forest and thereby forestall c1irpatic change. Possibly as a result ofBalfour's lobbying two further p~pers given at the RGS, at meetings inJune 1866 and in March 1869, dealt very specifically with the issue ofstate responses to deforestation Iand desiccation. The paper given byClements Markham in 1866, ('On the effect ofthe destruction offorestsin the western Ghauts ofIndia on the water supply'), seems to have beenintended to demonstrate and publicise the contemporary efforts beingmade to control deforestation in upland India.l" The ensuing discussiontook on much the same format as that of1865, bringing together a wholevariety of self-confessed experts and travellers from several differentcolonies. Initiating the discussion of Markham's paper Murchison

Ecology, Climate and Empire22

24 Ecology, Climateand EmpireEvolution ofthe Colonial Discourse 25

commented that the subject of the destruction offorests 'was one ofverygreat interest to all physical geographers',51 Murchison added that it wasa subject upon which he had himselfmuch reflected in reference to othercountries, 'even our own country'. He was happy, he said, to see manygentlemen present connected with India; and he would, in the firstinstance, call upon Sir William Denison, late Governor of Madras, tomake some observations upon the subject.

Under Denison's able administration, Murchison informed thegathering, some of those very forest protection operations had beenundertaken to which Mr Markham had alluded. A three-cornereddiscussion then followed which fiercely debated the culpability orotherwise ofthe 'native' for deforestation. Denison believed that Indians'cut down trees without hesitation, and no-one ever dreamt of plantinga tree unless it were a fruit tree'. George Balfour, reflecting the anti­establishment attitudes of his conservationist brother, Edward Balfour,countered that it was' the practice ofrich Hindoos to sink wells and planttopes oftrees' .52 Another discussant, Mr J. Crawfurd, pronounced it hisopinion that 'the presence of immense forests had proved one of thegreatest obstacles to the early civilization of mankind' and made the'assertion thatJava, free from forest, was 'incomparably superior to all theother islands of the Indian Archipelago'. Balfour's unusual advocacy ofthe significance ofindigenous knowledge reflected the beliefs of the firstgeneration of (East India Company) colonial conservationists in IfI,dia,in stark contrast to Denison's comments which typify the more r~st,harsh and counter-productive exclusionism of much post-Com~y

Indian forest policy after 1865.53 .?

Sir Henry Rawlinson, in his contribution to the RGS debate,opined that 'it was a matter patent to every traveller, and it might be­adopted as a principle in physical geography, that the desiccation of acountry followed upon the disappearance of its forests'. It was this

51 Report of discussion, Proceedings o/the RoyalGeographicalSociety, X (1866), pp. 267­

269.52 Ibid., p. 268

53 This is the later policy usefullycharacterised by R. Guha in 'Forestry and socialprotestin British Kumaon, 1893-1921', SubalternStudies, 4 (1985), pp. 54-101.

realisation that the emerging discipline of physical geography could beenlisted in the cause of global forest protection that seems to havepersuaded the core ofthe Indian forest service establishment to patronisethe meetings of the RGS in the late 1860s. Furthermore, in the absenceof any other imperial institution, at least in London, showing anysignificant interest in the pressing issue of colonial deforestation, theRGS provided a sympathetic oasis in what was otherwise an institutionaldesert. Thus it was that on 25th January 1869 that Hugh Cleghorn, theInspector-General of the new Indian forest department, attended ameeting of the Society addressed by Dr George Bidie on the subject of'the effects offorest destruction in Coorg'.54Murchison claimed on thisoccasion that 'it was highly gratifying to geographers to see variousbranches ofnatural history combined in illustration ofa great subject inphysical geography'.

Introducing Dr Cleghorn, Murchison suggested that 'we weremore indebted than to any other gentleman in reference to this impor­tant question'. 55 Deforestation could best be understood, Cleghornbelieved, in terms ofan analysis of the amount ofcapital being investedin forest areas, principally by British planters. The native population inth: :x'es tern Ghats, he pointed out, were almost universally of theop1010n that the climate was drier on account of the changes thatEuropeans were gradually introducing. The Madras Forest Department,~eadd~d,,:as a new one, initiate? only 13 years before. It was graduallylOcreaslOg 10 usefulness and it wils now receiving the official attentionthat it deserved.56 :

Attempts to prevent defor6tation in other colonies had, as late asthe 1860s, receivedvirtuallyno support from the imperial centre. Insteadimportant propaganda for conservation was being created at the periph­ery, not only in India but, in particular, in South Mrica. Thus some ofthe most strenuous extra-Indian efforts to promote forest protection and

54 G. Bidie, 'On the effects of forest destruction in Coorg', Proceedings o/the RoyalGeographical Society, XIII (1869), pp. 74-80.

55 Report ofdiscussion,Proceedings ofth«RoyalGeographicalSociety, XIII (1869), pp. 80­83.56 Ibid.

26 Ecology, Climateand Empire Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse 27

tree-planting and restrict grass-burning had been made byJohn CroumbieBrown, a missionary and the Colonial Botanist ofthe Cape Colony from1862 to 1866. 57 However, local funding for these.pioneer efforts hadbeen removed, without protest from Whitehall, in'1866 and a resentfulBrown had had to return to Scotland. 58 From there he proceeded topublish a stream ofworks on hydrology and forest conservation, manyof which soon came to the attention of the colonial authorities in theCape, Natal and elsewhere. The two most important ofthese works wereA Hydrology ofSouth Africa published in 1875 and Forests andMoisturepublished in 1877. 59 These works, far more influential on policy in thecolonial context than the writings ofG. P. Marsh, drew heavily on thedebates which had taken place atthe RGS during the 1860s, and derivedauthority from them. In Brown's books the discourse ofdesiccationismwas refined and made, in a sense, into an environmental article offaith.Furthermore his dicta on deforestation and climate were repeated anddeveloped throughout the colonial context during the ensuing 40 years.60

Brown's frequently expressed proposals for an Imperial School ofForestry (the idea itself was largely of his authorship) were ultimatelydeveloped at Cooper's Hill in Surrey and Dehra Dun in India andeventually in the form of the Imperial Forestry Institute at Oxford in1924, exactly a century, incidentally, after the foundation of the FrenchImperial Forestry school at Nancy/'! In the long interregnum betweenthe establishment of forest conservation in India and the establishmgnrof forestry training in Britain the RGS had acted as a highly forma~e'

{~~

57 See Chapter 3.

58 R.H. Grove, 'Early themes in African conservation; the Cape in the nineteenthcentury', in D. Anderson and R.H. Grove, eds, Conservation inAfrica:peop/e, policiesandpractice (Cambridge, 1987), pp. 21-39.

59 J.c. Brown, A hydrology ofSouthAfrica (Edinburgh, Oliver and Boyd, 1875); Forestsand moisture (Edinburgh, Oliver and Boyd, 1877).

60 See W. Beinart, 'Soil erosion, conservationism and ideas about development; asouthern African exploration, 1900-1%0', Journal of Southern African Studies, 11(1984), pp. 52-83.

61 Srebbing, ThefOrests ofIndia,vols 2 and 3. See also Ravi Rajan, 'Colonial science andimperial environmental history: the case offorestry in the British Empire'; chapter 1 of'Imperial environmentalism: the agendas and ideologiesofnatural resourcemanagementin British colonial forestry, 1800-1950 (D.Phil Thesis, University of Oxford, 1994).

centre ofdebate and calculation and as a centre ofacademic authority ofgreat practical use to such fervent early environmentalists as JohnCroumbie Brown. Above all, the society had served to legitimate a notionofglobal environmental crisis, articulated in a desiccationist discourse ofremarkable political power, and the subject ofa wide degree ofconsensus.The warnings against the'evil' consequences ofdeforestation which wereexpressed at the RGS in the 1860s were closely connected with anemerging contemporary consciousness of the possibility of extinctionwhich Darwin had sharply focussed in 1859. 62A sense ofexistential crisisand sense of impending loss was translated, through the RGS, into ahighly empirical debate about deforestation and the possibilities ofintervention and environmental institution-building.

The hegemonic prescriptions for colonial forest control which the~ew consciousness stimulated and which the RGS encouraged can beinterpreted, perhaps, asa desire to re-assert control over a new existentialchaos and over environmental processes that might threaten the exist­ence ofhumanity itself. Prescriptions for forest conservation, for grass­fir~ prevention and for irrigation can be seen in this sense as redemptiveor.m.terms ofatonement. Brown had originally been a CongregationalistmiSSIOnary. He had found it logical and congenial to adapt the direwarnings of such desiccationists as Wilson and Bidie as a kind ofe~vironmentalgospel. His otherwise 'scientific' accounts are sprinkledwith references to Old Testament texts. The publication of The OriginofSpecies had simply helped to make the threat ofdesiccation more dire.Darwin made extinction a necfissary part of natural selection andevolution. This gave deforestatiod and desiccation a much strengthenedmeaning, necessitating human and conservationist intervention. Newscient!fic .theory co~ld not, however, immediately displace religiousmeanmg rn the environment. Desiccation continued to be associatedwith an expulsion from the Garden ofEden and with eviLIfsociety failedto make conservationist amends for the evilsofdeforestation, extinctionand ruin would follow. In the circumstances of this new thinking

62. The background to this emerging consciousness of the possibility of extinctions is. discussed by Mario di Gregorio in 'Hugh Edwin Strickland (1811-1853) on Affinitiesand Analogies or, the case of the missing key', Ideas and Production, 7 (1987), pp. 35­50.

28 Ecology, Climateand Empire Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse 29

colonial conservation acquired the overtones ofa kind ofredemptive andconfessional doctrine.P

For this purpose the evidence ofdesiccation needed, ofcourse, tobeglobal or cosmological, while its prescriptions ne~ded to be universalist.It need hardly be said that practical policy prescriptions for counteractingdesiccation, principally through forest reservation and soil conservation,would turn out to be highly palatable to the agendas of colonial rule,particularly when it came to controlling the landscape, and manipulatinga 'chaotic' subject population. Those who attended the RGS debatesduring the 1860s probably did not fully appreciate that. Instead, placedat the centre ofsuch transitions, it is not surprising that geography itselfshould soon have been affected bra redemptive cosmology. The redemp­tive element was reflected particularly in the new discipline of physicalgeography as it developed after 1870 and is best understood in thewritings ofArchibald Geikie. 'Evolutionary Geography', he wrote,

traces howman alikeunconsciously and knowinglyhaschanged the faceof nature........ it must be owned that man in most of his strugglewiththe world had fought blindly for his own immediate interests. Hiscontest, successful for the moment, has too often led to sure and saddisaster. Stripping forests from hill and mountain, he had gained hisimmediate object in the possession of abundant suppliesof timber; buthe haslaidopen theslopesto be parchedbydrought or to besweptdownby rain. Countries once rich in beauty and plenteous in all that was;

t".,needful for his support are now burnt or barren or almost denuded o~·'

1'1 "

theirsoil.Graduallyhe had beentaught byhisownexperience that whil%his aim still is to subdue earth he can attain it not by setting nature and?her laws at defiance but byenlistingthem in hisservice.........he haslearntat lastto beaministerand interpreterofnature and he findsin her a readyand uncomplaining slave.64

The final lines ofGeikie's text indicate that, even while it assumedan environmentalist guise, geography continued to exhibit some of theattributes ofa discourse ofdomination. However it was a discourse thatwas ultimately contradictory. Thus the efforts made by colonial conser-

63 I discuss these issues at greater length in Chapter 2.

M Archibald Geikie, 'On evolutionary geography', Journalof the RoyalGeographicalSociety, 2 (1870), pp.232-245.

vationists and metropolitan geographers to understand the mechanismsofenvironmental degradation could hardly fail to touch on the uncom­fortable and dynamic connections between the kinds of economicdevelopment unleashed by imperial expansion and annexation and thealarming patterns of global environmental change that had becomeapparent to audiences at RGS debates after 1860. In the concluding partof this narrative I make a short survey of the way in which fears ofartificially-induced impacts on climate and environment developed intothe patterns ofpropaganda and environmental discourse with which weare so familiar today.

After the 1860s desiccation and 'desertification' fears, incorpo­rated particularly into the forestry and land management policies oftheFrench and British colonial empires, continued to exert a sporadicallypowerful impact. It was an impact that was reinforced after extremeclimatic events and in periods ofrapid political change. The initial thrustto this policy in the British context was given by Sir Joseph Hooker, theDirector of Kew Gardens, when he pressed for a more systematicapplication of forest policies in a series of lectures published in 1872.65

The environmental texts and propaganda ofparticular individuals werehighly influential in this story. Like those ofJohn Croumbie Brown andArchibald Geikie the new narratives of environmental alarmism werefrequently evangelical and even millennial in their tone. Their prescrip­tive ambitions held out the prom;se of increased status for scientists aswell as increased funding. Partlyas a result of this, desiccationisr andconservationist ideas, in which c0nsiderable claims were made for thevirtues of state land control, bedame a major feature of the technicalagendas of French and British! colonial rule, not least during theexpansionist phase of the late nineteenth century. This tendency wasmagnified as governments consolidated their rule in climatically mar­ginal areas that were highly vulnerable to droughts. Soon after thepublication ofJ. C. Brown's first two texts India, Southern Mrica andAustralia were all affected by droughts in 1877-1880 of an almostunprecedented severity, the result of the strongest EI Nifio episode since

65 Reported inJ.D. Hooker, 'On theprotection offorests', JournalofAppliedScience, 1(1872), pp. 24-25. .

66 Government ofIndia, Reports ofthefamine commission (4 vols, Calcutta, 1880).

67 The Southern Oscillation is a recognised large-scale meteorological feature made.upof high-altitude air currents and jetstreams, connecting the climates ofSouth ~er~ca,Australia and the Indian Ocean. It is a geographically and seasonally oscillatingphenomenon dynamically connected with the timing and strength of ocean currentssuch as the El Nifio. Assuch it is fundamental to the timing ofperiodic droughts and toalterations in the strength of the monsoon.

68 See Chapter 4.

69 A. Moloney, Sketch oftheftrestry ofWestAfrica (London, 18~7); and see OlufemiOmosini, 'Alfred Moloney and his strategies for development III Lagos colony andhinterland',journal oftheHistorical Society ofNigeria, 7 (1975), pp. 657-672.

70 Perhaps the most famous of these was Charles Lane-Poole, eventually appointed

1791-2. In India the droughts resulted in especiallyhigh mortality, andled to a wholesale re-examination of the evidence fo~ deforestation­rainfall links in the the reports of the Famine Commission of 1880.66

This led in turn to a strengthening and effective militarisingofthe powersof the forest department in India. It also stimulated the systematic .

investigation of global teleconnections between climatic events ~t thecolonial periphery, research that led eventually to an understanding ofthe Southern Oscillation and the mechanism of the monsoon'", Com­munications between Indian and Australian scientists were especiallyimportant in this respecr." Meanwhile, roving experts from the IndianForest Department travelled throughout the newly expanded BritishEmpire, reproducing the models of forest manage.ment that had beendeveloped in the previous 40 years in India. Indian precedents wereadopted in SouthernMrica (particularly in Natal and the Cape), Cypr~s,Central America, South-East Asia, Australia and elsewhere. Even In

coastal West Africa the desiccationist message began to diffuse, not leastin the work ofAlfred Moloney, the Governor of the Lagos Colony.f?

By the late 1880s the typologies of anti-desiccation forest policyin the French and British colonial states were so closely inter-related that

,they can be said to have constituted a single ruling philosophy rather thantwo separate traditions. French and British forestry jou.rnals were ~l~rt

and imitative ofthe experiences oftheir rival services, while many Britishforesters were actually trained at the French Imperial Scho~l.at Na~;70

French foresters were even employed directly by the British COlq,.lal

~~ ?

Conservator ofAustralia; see Lane-Poole papers, Nancy HIes, MSS Collection, Austral­ian National Library, Canberra.

71 TheAnglo-French Boundary Forest Commission wasset up at the instance ofcolonialforest department officialsin the Ivory Coast, the Gold Coast and Nigeria. Itcommencedan ambitious and partially successful programme of tree-planting, mainly ofeucalypts,in the semi-arid Sub-Saharan zones on the northern boundaries ofAnglo-French WestAfrica. The onset ofthe Second World War brought it to an unfortunate and prematureend. For details see National Archives of Nigeria (Ibadan), Forest Department AFBFFiles.

72 E.g., see Franklin B. Hough, On theduty ofgovernments in thepreservation offtrests(Salem, 1873), and Report uponforestry; from the committee appointedto memorialiseCongress ... regarding thepreservation offtrests (Salem, 1878).

31Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

services; the employment of the Count Vasselot de Regne in the CapeConservancy in South Mrica being a notable example ofthis. Similarly,German~trained foresters were widely employed by both French andBritish colonial governments, above all in the higher echelons of theIndian Forest Service. In the colonial context this resulted in an intermix­ing ofGerman forest science methods and an Anglo-French tradition ofdesiccationism. The sheer vigour of the Anglo-French forest 'move­ment', as one might legitimately term it (which reached its apogee in theremarkable 1934 Anglo-French Boundary Forest Commission) beganeven to influence the very tardy development ofconservationism in theUnited States."! Thus Franklin Benjamin Hough, one-time director ofthe United States census (and a local historian and evangelical preacher),who was a keen student of colonial forestry methods as well as a closefriend ofJohn Croumbie Brown, wrote a series ofreports after 1873 thatled to the foundation of the United States Forest Service.72

The years immediately prior to 1900 saw a renewed interestdeveloping in somewhat millennial theories of global desiccation. Sig­nificantly perhaps, these were preoccupied with regions that lay outsidethe areas ofAnglo-European and American colonial control. In particu­lar, they posed a post-glacial desiccation of the environments ofCentralAsia and China based on the twin tenets that wet conditions character­ised the glacial phases ofthe Pleistocene and that aridity had increased inthe Holocene since the warming of the Pleistocene icesheets. Travellersin Central Asia pointed to the occurrence ofdry water courses and lakes

Ecology, Climate and Empire30

32 Ecology, Climate and Empire Evolution ofthe ColonialDiscourse 33

and abandoned settlements asevidence ofthis desiccation and suggestedthat deteriorating environmental conditions had spurred successivenomadic invasions of their more civilised neighbours during periods ofincreased aridity." The work of Kropotkin (1904) and EllsworthHuntington (1907) are conspicuous examples here.74 However, like theworkofG.P. Marsh, the ideasofAmerica ns such asHuntington had onlya limited effect in the European colonial context. Similarly, TheodoreRoosevelt's famous Conservation Conferences exerted, at first, only alimited effect outside North America, even though Roosevelt's mainadvisers, and speech-writers, Gifford Pinchot and William McGee, werewell informed themselves about Anglo-French colonial forest conserva­tion initiatives, and admired them."

Moreover these progressivist American initiatives were made atprecisely the periodwhen British colonial administrations in WestAfricawere encountering formidable and effective indigenous opposition tothe imposition oftheir own surprisingly enlightened forest policies fromchiefs and other interests in the Gold Coast and Nigeria." This was aproblem that, in general, was not encountered at this stage by the Frenchin West Africa; although German forest administrations in Tanganyika~nd Togo found it necessary to implement their forest regulationsthrough the use of draconian punishments." In the Gold Coast andNigeria colonial governments were forced to abandon their Indian­derived forest management programmes entirely, only replacing th.<;mwith policies sanctioned by the chiefs after the First World World~r,at a time when the word 'development' started to appear in colo.~ial

73 Not all investigators of the time agreed with these views, however, Sven Hedin, theSwedish explorer, for example, thought that much of the apparent desiccation could beexplained by rivers shifting their courses; see S. Hedin, The wanderinglake (New York,1940).

74 P. Kropotkin, 'ThedesiccationofEur-Asia', Geographicaljournal;23 (1904), pp. 722­741; and E. Huntington, Thepulseofkia (London, 1907).

n SeeMichael Lacey, 'The Washington scientific community in the nineereenrh century'(Ph.D. thesis, George Washington University, 1979).

76 See Chapter 5.

77 For details see Robert Cornevin, Histoire du Togo (Paris, Editions Berger-Levrault,1969),pp.182,249,353.

government publi~ations.7.8 Some of the anxieties and the militarylang~age of the penod leadlllg up to the First World War encouraged acontlnue~ doo~.-laden interest in global desiccation that was especiallyapparent m Wilham Macdonald's widely-read Conquestofthe Desert.79

It seems quite possible that a generalised revulsion at the humandestructiveness of the Great War was reflected in a strengthened aware­ness of the possibilities of human environmental destructiveness on aworl~ s~ale. This would help to account for the flurry of colonialpubhcatlo~s.and commissions on the connections between drought andhuman aCtlVlty that appeared in the early 1920s. In 1920 it was the turnof the French to voice their desiccation fears, above all in an influentialarticle by H. Hubert, entitled 'Le dessechement progressive en AfriqueOcci~enta!e'.80 How~ver it was in semi-arid SouthAfrica that the gospelo.fdeSICCatl~n found Its most pronounced and didactic post-war expres­ston. Here, 1ll1919, E.H.L. Schwartz published an article entitled 'Theprogr.essive desi~cation ofAfrica; the cause and the remedy'.8\Even thewording ofthe title echoed that of]. Spotswood Wilson's seminal articleof1865 on 'the progressing desiccation ofinner Southern Africa', whichhad. been based on the text of an address to the Royal GeographicalSO:lety. 82 Schwartz followed the article with a book published in 1923on TheKa~~ari or Th~rstlandRedemption, a title which surely gives us aclue to ~ critical cr~sadlllg element ofthe desiccation discourse. In manyways this ~o~k relllforced an imBlicitly religious and redemptive (andeven Calvinist) element that had been present in environmentalistwriting in Southern Africa since d~e time of]ohn Crombie Brown. A zealfor the spreadingofan environme~talmessagewasseen asavital and evenevangelical task. Schwartz's texts 'was directly transmuted into govern-

78 See F.M. Oliphant, Reporton the commercialpossibilities and thedevelopmentofforestsofthe Gold Coast(Accra, 1934).

79W. Macdonald, Conquestofthe desert (London, 1914).

80 Bulletin Comitl d'EtudesHistoriques et Scientifiquede l'Afrique Occidentale Francaise1920,pp.401-437. '

81 E.H.L. Schwartz, 'The progressive desiccation ofAfrica; the cause and the remedy',SouthAfricanJournal ofScience, 15 (1919), pp. 139-190.

82 Wilson, 'On the progressing desiccation'.

83 Geographical Review, 16 (1926), pp. 274-282.

84 Journalof theRoyalAfrican Society, 20 (1921), pp. 175-185,259-269.

85 Antiquity,3 (1929), pp. 4-23.

86 Geographical Review, 16 (1926), pp. 583-596.

ment policies through the 1922 report of the South Mrican DroughtCommission, a highly alarmist document. This alarmism revealed, forthe first time, the beginnings ofa North American influence on Britishcolonial soil and forest conservation, at least in S~uth Africa. Two oftheAfrikaner members ofthe Commission had worked in the United States'as refugees after the SouthMrican war (1899-1902). H.S.D. du Toit, itschairman, trained there as an agronomist, and he later became head ofSouth Mrica's agricultural extension service. R.J. Van Renen studiedcivil engineering and worked on irrigation projects in Nebraska beforereturning to the Transvaal civil service. T.D. Hall, one ofthe first SouthAfricans to write systematic historical studies ofpastures, studied agricul­ture in Illinois in the 1910s. '

During the 1920s, too, the experience ofCentral Asia continuedto exert an influence on the desiccationist school. C. Coching, in 1926,summarised much of this thinking in a paper entitled 'Climatic pulsa­tions during historic times in China'.83 Geographical periodicals andinstitutions were, as in the previous century, important fora for thedesiccation debate. In Mrica this meant that the concerns of the 1920snow began to embrace some colonial territories that had not featured at

, all in the earlier environmental literature of the years before the GreatWar but which were now the subject ofconsiderable colonial interest andinfrastructure investment. This was especially the case in the Anglo­Egyptian Sudan, about which some of the first literature on ~ert­

spreading or 'desertification' now began to be written. A pioneer i~hisarea was E.W. Bovill, who echoed Schwartz in South Africa in his ~21paper on 'the encroachment ofthe Sahara on the Sudan' 84 His argurtlentswere further followed up in an article entitled 'The Sahara' in 1929.85

Bovill's arguments were, in turn, taken much further byG.T. Renner inone of the first articles to paint Africa as a potentially famine-riddencontinent, under the title 'A famine zone in Africa; the Sudan'.86

The impact of North American 1930s 'Dustbowl' thinking on

87 Bein~rt, 'Soil e~osion'; D,M., Anderson,. 'D.epression, dustbowl, demography anddro~ght. the colonial state and soil conservationIII EastMrica during the 1930s',AfticanAffam. 83 (1984), pp. 321-244.

-35Evolution ofthe Colonial Discourse

African colonial co.n~ervati~n thinking has been extensively explored byscholars such as WJlham Beinart and David Anderson.87 In America thedroughts that characterised the period and devastated so much of themid-west and southern states brought about an irrevocable shift ina~rarian thinking away from expansionist optimism and towards angorous inter;entionist conservationism in practical and policy terms.However, the Impact of the Dustbowl ideology in Africa may have beenover-exaggerated, since it actually had little effect on forest policy and farless ~n ~rench than British colonial policy. Although influential in thesemi-arid parts of East and Southern Africa, the American ideas alsoreceived far less attention in the wetter colonies of Central Mrica (suchas Nyasaland) and West Mrica. In West Mrica, however, Indian con­cerns once more made themselves felt. Soil erosion had become apr?minent issue in India during the 1920s and huge investments werebemg made in anti-erosion schemes in such regions as the Etawah districtof the United Provinces of northern India, long before scientific reac­tions were ar.ticulated ~o the American 'Dustbowl'. In 1934E.P. Stebbing,a.v~ry promme~t Indian forester (and early historian ofIndian forestry)VIsitedWestAfnca for ~ fewweeks during the dry season. His perceptionsofth~dry season Sahelian landscape provoked him into writing a feverishwarmng on what he saw as the dangers ofdesertification. The title of theessay('The encroaching Sahara; the threat to the West Mrican colonies')lea~s one to suspect that he had read Bovill's similarly titled 1921 articleo~ the encroachment of the Sah~ra'. Stebbing's alarmism contributeddirectly to the founding ofthe Anglo-French Boundary Forest Commis­sion '.This commission, initiated in 1934, soon found that Stebbings'w:rnmgs were largely unfounded; and his analysis was decisively dis­mlss~d by B. Jones, a member of the Commission, in a 1938 articlepublished, as Stebbing's had been, in the GeographicaljournaL Never­theless, the damage had been done and Stebbing's alarums were soon~choe~ ~ymuch more popular writers, and above all byJacks and WhyteIII their mflammatory, semi-racist and inaccurate account entitled The

Ecology, Climate and Empire34

88 G.V. Jacks and R.O. Whyte, Therapeoftheearth: a worldsurveyofsoilerosion (London,1939).

89 I use the term'myth' here advisedly.While veryreal aridificati~n and v~getation changedid actually take place in the Sahelian and Sub-S~aran reglOn~ dunng the droughtperiods of 1913-1920 and 1969-1985, especially In West Africa, the ster~otype .of'desertification' has been used both to construct an image of a hopeless agranan Africaand to ensure a constant flow of research funds to the many researchers who have now'discovered' desertification throughout Africa, Asia and even Southern Euro~e. For ahighly effective critique of these notions see D.S. Thomas and S.J. MIddleton,Desertification: exploding the myth (Chichester, 1994). . ~_,

90 Jacks and Whyte were not the only scholars who may have artIcula~e~ th~r g~o­

political anxieties in environmental terms. SirAurel Stein e~barked o~ a s~mllar?terclse

in 1938 in a essay called 'Desiccation in Asia, a geographIcal questIon In the litht ofhistory', Hungarian Quarterly, 13 (1938).

RapeoftheEarth;A WorldSurvey ofSoi~Erosi~n. 88 ~his b?ok set the sc~ne

for the post-war Britishcolonial obsession WIthsoder~S10?an~ gullyingin its 'second colonial occupation', aswell as for.the desertification mythof the 1970s and 1980s. 89 It may have owed at least some of it~desiccationist obsession to the prevailing and well-rooted anxiety aboutthe fascist threat. One might well argue on present field evidence that thefascist threat was a good deal more real than the desiccation dan?ersketched out by Jacks and Whyte, and initially engineered by Stebbing

d his American dustbowl colleagues." Nevertheless the profoundan al li .influence of The Rape ofthe Earth on global environment po ley 10

subsequent decades can be firmly attributed to.its .roots i~ :,hat we cannow recognise as a very long-standing desiccationist tradition. .

36 Ecology, Climate and Empire

2

Conserving Eden: The (European) EastIndia Companies and their Environmental

Policies on St Helena, Mauritius and inWestern India, 1660-18S4

The history of tropical forest change over the last millenium is difficultto chart with any confident degree of accuracy. Indeed, systematicattempts even for the last hundred years have been made only recently.In general, more is known at present about the history of tropical forestsin Asia and SoutheastAsia than forests in Mrica or SouthAmerica.' Thislack ofknowledge is partly due to the fact that the causal factors behindthe erosion oftropical forests area are particularly difficult to disentangle.However, important connections can be made between European ex­pansion, the penetration ofcapitalist economic forces, and the transfor­mation of tropical environments." Above all, the spread of marketrelations in the tropics has served to encourage the rapid clearance of

I

forests for agriculture. The history-ofglobal deforestation has probably!

I SeeJ. F. Richards, J. R. Hagen, and E. S. Haynes, 'Changing land-use in Bihar, Punjaband Haryana', ModemAsian Studies, 19 (1985),pp. 699-752. In some respects a relianceon official sources produced between 1870 and 1970 has led to a neglect of the criticalbur little understood period of forest clearance between 1780 and 1850, colonialperceptions ofwhich led to the developments described in this chapter.

2 For some initial attempts in this direction, see1.Wallerstein, Themodern worldsystem(New York, 1974). There remain, ofcourse, some major problems to be encountered inequating any expansion of the 'European world system' with processes of ecologicalchange. It is nowwell established that the activitiesofindigenous peoples inAustralia andEast Mrica, for example, caused widespread ecological change long before the advent ofthe European. Thesamewas true in many Pacificislands;see the chapter on Easter Islandin Clive Ponting's A green history ofthe world(London, 1991).

3 An outstanding exception is found in Conrad Totman's survey of forest conservationin Japan in the seventeenth century, Thegreen archipelago (Berkeley, 1989).

4 S R. H Grove 'Green imperialism: colonial expansion, tropical islandEdens and theori;:S of ;nviron~entalism, 1600-1800 (Cambridge, 1995), and 'The Origins ofEnvironmentalism', Nature, 3 May 1990, pp. 6-11.

been closely associated at many ofits fastest stages with the dynamics ofthe forces of industrialisation and the expansion ofa European-centredworld-system. Nevertheless, there have also been phases ofrapid c~ange

in zones asyet unaffected by the dynamics ofcapitalist transformation asthey are normally understood. The conceptual problem th~t arises h~s 'less to do with the difficulties of explaining the dynamics of rapidecological change than with the problems entaile? in using a monolithicand Eurocentric world system theory to describe patterns of proto­capitalist and indigenous consumption. Thus, at various times ~he

relatively rapid clearance of large areas of forest in much of the ~acific

area, in tropical Mrica, and in Northern India has taken place outside thecontext ofthe expansion ofany world system. Significantly, some phasesof non-European clearance have led to the development of importantand ambitious state initiatives in forestry and environmental control,although very few have ever been properly investigated.'

Since the Second World War, tropical deforestation has takenplace so rapidly that the prospect of the disapp~arance of the remainingcore areas of continental forest has led to a WIdespread contemporaryapprehension about its consequences. This is frequen~ly exp~essed interms ofanxieties about global climatic change and the likely disappear­ance of a high proportion of existing species of fauna and ~ora. Suchconcerns are, in fact, not new and, in their essentials, constitute a re­statement ofanxieties expressed for more than two centuries." FUf;f~er­

more, interventionist responses to rapid forest destruction have ~~ngand coherent intellectual history. Many emerged from the sp';:lficcircumstances of colonial expansion and associated ecological change,although there have been some important exceptions. In particu~ar,

western anxieties about the possible connections between deforestationand climatic change emerged quite specifically in the colonial rat~er t~anthe metropolitan European context. This essay intends to Identify,briefly, some of the main milestones in the history of early western

5 This argument is put forward in D. Worster, Nature's economy: a history ofWesternecological ideas (Cambridge, 1985).

6 For a useful survey, see R. P. Tucker and J. R. Richards, eds, Global deforestation andthe worldeconomy (Durham, N.C., 1983).

7 See R. H. Grove, 'Early themes in Mrican conservation: The Cape in the nineteenthcentury', in D. Anderson and R. H. Grove, eds, Conservation inAftica:people, policiesandpractice (Cambridge, 1987), pp. 22-47.

8 For discussions ofthe later development ofconservation ideologies, see Chapter 3; andW. Beinarr, 'Soil erosion, conservationism and ideas about development: a SouthernMrican exploration, 1900-1960',JournalofSouthernAfticanStudies, 11 ( 1984), pp. 52­83.

39Conserving Eden

conservationist responses to the ecological effects ofthe colonial transfor­mation of the landscape and to the destruction of tropical forests inparticular.

Some historians have suggested that the environmentally destruc­tive effects ofcolonialism were not only economic but had their roots inideologically imperialist attitudes towards the environment.> This doesnot seem an extraordinary thesis to advance, particularly because theevidence seems to indicate that the penetration of western economicforces (not all necessarily synonymous with colonialism) did indeedpromote a rapid ecological transformation in some instances,6 which wasespecially true in the early nineteenth century in India and SouthernMrica.7 On closer inspection, however, the hypothesis of a purelydestructive environmental imperialism constituting a complete breakwith the pre-colonial past does not stand up well at all. Indeed this notionapparently arose out of a misunderstanding about the contradictory,heterogeneous, and ambivalent nature of the colonial state's workings.Above all, anumber ofscholars have been generally unaware ofthe extentto which colonial governments were peculiarly open to the pressures ofa contemporary environmental lobby during the first half of the nine­teenth century, a time ofgreat uncertainry about the role and long-termsecuriry of the colonial state. Thus, although it undoubtedly promotedwidespread ecological destruction, colonial enterprise also helped tocreate a context conducive to ri~orous analytical thinking about theprocesses of ecological change an~ to the formation of a conservationideology.s

Ecology) Climate and Empire38

40 Ecology, Climate and Empire Conserving Eden 41

Ironically, too, the colonial state in its pioneer-ing conservationistrole provided a forum for controls on the unhindered operations ofcapital for short-term gain which, it might be .argued, constituted afundamental contradiction to what is normally supposed to have madeup the common currencyofimperial expansion and profit maximisation."Moreover, the absolutist nature of colonial rule made it possible tointroduce interventionist forms of land management that would havebeen very difficult to impose in Europe, even though many of themprovoked active indigenous resistance. Colonial expansion also pro­moted the rapid diffusion of new scientific ideas and environmentalconcepts among colonies and between metropole and colony over a largearea of the world. Such ideas sometimes acquired a potent momentumof their own independent of the apparatus of colonial rule while stillexerting influence on its actors.

Conservation in its more modern sense has often been perceivedas a phenomenonwith antecedents in late nineteenth- or early twentieth­centuryNorthAmerica. 10This interpretation regards HenryD. Thoreau,John Muir, and George Perkins Marsh as the leading originators ofmodern environmentalism. In contrast, scholars dismiss colonial conser­vation and forestry regulation, especially in India, as mere disguiseslegitimised by a subordinate colonial science for resource exploitationand land seizure by the state. II Although some elements of truth in suchdoctrinaire accounts are normally coupled with doubtful notions of~Je­colonial Golden Ages of ecological balance, they have all tende~boverlook the remarkably innovative nature of early colonial conse*a-

~ ·r

9 For a useful analogous discussion ofcolonial state hostility to capital interests, see D.Washbrook, 'Law, state and agrarian society in colonial India' ,ModernAsianStudies, 15(1981), pp. 648-721.

10 E.g., Worster, Nature'seconomy; S. Hays, Conservation and thegospel ofefficiency: theProgressive ConseruationMouement, 1880-1920 (Cambridge, Mass., 1959); D. Lowenthal,George PerkinsMarsh. versatile Vermonter (New York, 1958).

II See especially R. Guha, The unquiet woods: ecological change andpeasantresistance inthe Himalaya (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1989), and M. Gadgil, 'Towards anecologicalhistory ofIndia', Economicand PoliticalWeekly, XX (1985), 1909-18. Similarinterpretations appear in V. Shiva, 'Afforestation in India: problems and strategies',Ambia, 14 (1985), pp. 21-41; andM. Gadgil, Deforestation:problemsandprospects(NewDelhi: Society for Promotion ofWoodlands Development, 1989).

tionism, the characteristics ofwhich have been very much neglected untilrecently. Theyalso tend to underplay the highly developed trend towardsexclusionist forms ofstate forest control developed in pre-colonial statesin South Asia, as well as the well-established history of rapid, and oftenstate-sponsored, deforestation in the centuries before the onset of EastIndia Company rule in the sub-continent. 12

As a result the notion ofNorth American primacy in conservationthinking has remained unquestioned. In fact, a good deal of evidenceindicates that complex notions ofstate intervention in natural resourceprotection, many of them strongly connected with new and highlyanthropomorphic valuations of the environment, emerged and wereextensively promulgated in the colonial context more than a centurybefore George Perkins Marsh published his famous Man andNaturein1864,t3 What is more, Marsh apparently drew much ofhis inspirationfrom a detailed knowledge of the history of important colonial experi­ments in environmental intervention. Indeed, the very speed ofdegrada­tion induced by colonisation helped to evoke such experimentation."Colonial conservationism probably did emerge not so much becausecolonial annexation and capitalisation brought about extensive ecologi­cal changes as because the conditions inherent in early Dutch, Frenchand British colonial rule promoted the rapid rise of a distinctive groupof professional naturalists and scientists to disproportionate influence.Many of these early experts constructed an effective critique of theenvironmental effects ofcolonial rule, often asa surrogate for more directbut less. politically palatable soci,1 commentaries on colonialism itselfPre-eminent among these professional naturalists, especially in India

12 For some details ofearly phases ofpre-colonial deforestation, see Makhan Lal, 'Irontools, forest clearance and urbanisation in the Gangetic Plains', Man and Environment,10 (1984), pp. 83-90. Widespread deforestation in the Ganges valley during thefourteenth century led to water-table declines and extensive soil deterioration.13 G. P. Marsh, Man and nature (New York, 1864).

14 Marsh was well aware of the deforestation history ofSt Helena and early attempts tocontrol the process. He was largely unaware, however, of the history of Indian conser­vation with which he became acquainted only through correspondence with Dr. HughCleghorn during the late 1860s. See Cleghorn/Marsh correspondence (Marsh Papers,Archives Department ofVermont, Burlington, Vt., 1865-82).

15 For an extended introduction to the evolution of Hippocratic environmentalpsychology see Clarence Glacken, Traces on the Rhodianshore (Berkeley, 1969):

16 See Grove, Green imperialism, ch. 5. It has to be said that the more uropran andtranscendental elements in conservationismduring the period were partly suppressed,forfairly obvious reasons. Nevertheless a careful .inspection of ~he wri.tings of HughCI h rn in particular indicates similar underlying preoccupations, reinforced by the

eg 0 . hi ki . lonial I diHumboldtian antecedents of much ofearly conservation t In ng In co oru n ia,

17 For a specific characterisation of this genre of science, see A. Cunningham and N.Jardine, eds, Romanticism and the sciences (Cambridge, 1990).

before the 1851 rebellion, were the medical surgeons of the East IndiaCompany, whose relatively influential status 'permitte~ a. very ra~id

diffusion oftheir environmental diagnoses and mtervennorust preSCrIp­tions. Their outlook was strongly influenced by Hippocratic and,Physiocratic ways of thinking. Both of these medically based phi~oso-

hies dealt implicitly with the relations between the external environ-p . .. Iment and the health ofman." Their impactwas, In envtronrnenta terms,more keenly felt in the tropics than in contemporary Europe, wherevegetational changes in more temperate conditions were gene~ally mu~h

slower and lesseasilyobserved in their effects.Although the Hlp~o.cratlc

interpretation ofenvironmental processes was innate to th~ ~raInI~g ofall western physicians, the Physiocratic environmental crmque (Itselfderived from medical antecedents), was much more narrowly confined,t first to the response ofFrench colonial science to tropical conditions

~n the late eighteenth century. By the 1760s in Mauritius (and a little laterin India and the Cape Colony), these two environmental discourses hadbeen translated into a set ofhighly interventionist conservation policies,preceding the emergence of conservationism in either Europe or theUnited States.l''

Thus, as early as 1840, one can clearly distinguish th~ emerg:~ce

of full developed environmental concerns and conservation policiesy db' ific istrongly reinforced by what were considere .to e SCle~tl IC Interpreta-

tions of environmental interactions. These InterpretatIOns were ~.fSed

largely on the writings ofFrench and German Romantic scientist(itl1d,later on the work ofAlexander von Humboldt. 17Such concerns ha~notdeveioped in isolation. From the late eighteenth centu~, particulai y ~nMauritius (the Isle de France), environmentalist theories developed In

18 See Chapter 6.

19 For details of the growth on early metropolitan environmental lobby groups, seeJ.Sheail, Nature in trust(London, 1976). The most important of thesewas the CommonsPreservation Society founded by Octavia Hill, Robert Hunter, John Stuart Mill, T. H.Huxley, and George Shaw-Lefevre. See Lord Eversley (G. Shaw-Lefevre), Forests,commons andfOotpaths (London, 1912).

Early European Colonial Expansion and the Origins ofWesternConservationism

The essential precepts of modern conservation actually arose from theconditions ofcolonial rule and cblonial notions ofthe state's role. Indeedconservationist ideas developed almost in tandem with the growth ofthematerial demands ofnascent capitalism, whether in its European form orin indigenous forms in, for instance, pre-colonial India, China, or Japan.The growth of market relations and urbanisation had, of course, long

43Conserving Eden

close association with political or even revolutionary radicalism, anti­slavery, and overt anti-colonial sentiment, as well as with a naturalisticOrientalism. Such interconnections have been a characteristic feature ofthe earlyhistory ofconservationism.AlongwithAlexandervon Humboldt,other thinkers also serve to exemplify the apparent dualism ofenviron­mental and social reform in the critically formative years between 1770and 1870. Pierre Poivre, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Ernst Dieffenbach, P.E. Strzelecki, Hugh Cleghorn, Edward Balfour, John Croumbie Brown,and Henry David Thoreau all stand out as exemplars of this phenom­enon. Only in its later stages ofdevelopment did conservationism, as ahigWy bureaucratised justification for state control ofland use, start toenforce its own inflexible and alienating logic. Moreover. conservation­ism then evoked widespread popular resistance in the context of thedevelopment of the more narrowly defined interests oflate nineteenth­century imperialism. IS By then the original reformist ideologues ofcolonial conservation had almost all long since faded in influence. Theirideological successors were, instead, to be found at work far more in themetropolitan context, where state conservationism developed muchmore slowly in response to the pressures of urban growth and industri­alisation.!?

Tj

Ecology, Climate and Empire42

20 See J. Perlin, A fOrest journey: the role ofwoodin thedevelopment ofcivilization (NewYork, 1989), pp. 35-145.

21 JD. Hughes, 'Theophrastus as Ecologist', Enuironmental Reuieto, 4 (1985), pp. 291­307. See also remarks on Theophrastus in Glacken, Traces ontheRhodianshore; and H.Rubner, 'GreekThought and Forest Science', EnuironmentalReoieio, 4 (1985), pp. 277­296.22 See E. Mummenhoff, AlhziJrnberg (Bamberg, 1890), pp. 55-57.

23 Ellen C. Semple, Thegeography oftheancientMediterranean (London, 1932).

24 For a wider discussion ofthese matters, see F. C. Lane, Venetian ships, shipbuilders andthe Renaissance (Baltimore: University of Baltimore, 1934).

been associated with deforestation in Europe and the Middle East,particularly in the more southern margins of these regions.20 Indeed, itwas in the course ofthe deforestation ofclassicalGreece thatTheophrastusofErasia, an early ecologist, as well as the keeper ofAristotle's botanicgarden and his archivist, first put forward his precocious theories ofdesiccation. These linked deforestation and declines in rainfall with thedestruction of trees around the perimeters of the Greek city-states." Intemperate northern Europe, anxieties about the impact ofdeforestationdeveloped much later than this and for reasons more straightforwardlyconnected with timber depletion. During early medieval phases ofEuropean expansion eastward into the forests of Germany and centralEurope, some pioneer attempts were made to limit agricultural clearanceunder the German kings. Sometimes these involved very dear-sightednotions ofsustainable timber use and, in very rare instances, an awarenessof the value of forest protection in preventing soil erosion.P Moresystematic insights into the mechanisms ofenvironmental degradationhad to await the circumstances ofthe much more extensive deforestationand soil erosion episodes associated with the rise of the great Europeanmaritime empires. In particular, the mercantile and colonial expansionofVenice gave rise to a phase ofvery rapid and destructive deforestationin Northern Italy, Dalmatia, and Crete." The military and strategicdemands ofthe empire implied a need for a continuous supply ofwoodfor ship and barge building, most ofwhich was carried out at the4nenalein Venice itself.24 One of the first signs of the progressive defor~tionofthe Venetian hinterland, the movement ofthe barge-buildingi~ustryinland from Venice, was well under way in the second quarterof thefifteenth century. During the 1450s, the high rate of deforestation

25 See Venice Archives (Arsenale), basta 8, £1./9/10

26 The Venetian records show that local peasant opposition to state conservationfeaturing even active sabotage and incendiarism, contributed to this policy. Theph~n~menon of popular resistance to colonial forest policy was repeated over and overagaJ.n III the context of much later colonial conservation policy, especially in Africa andIndia, See Chapter 6.

27 R. Bryans, Madeira, pearl ofAtlantic (London, 1954), p. 30; and A.M. WatsonAgriculturalirrigationin the early Islamic world(Cambridge, 1983). '

~~parently became recognised as a danger to the Venice lagoon becauseIt Increased the a~ount ofsilt brought down by the rivers. To prevent thelagoons from fillIng up, the Council ofTen ordered the re-plan ting ofallcut over woods at the edges of streams of flowing water." A definitepolicy designed to conserve and increase the supply of oak from state,;oodlands was formulated between 1470 and 1492. Although innova­t~ve, these measures failed almost entirely to conserve or replenish thetimber supply or to curb the ruinous destruction ofthe oak woods whichcontinued unabated until the sixteenth century. This failure cont:ibutedi~ no small measure to the decline ofVenice and its trading and militarydisplacement bymaritimepowerswith easieraccess to relativelyundepletedfo~ests.2~ However, ,;hil~ the Venetian experience of contending withsod eros~on was certainly Important, far more holistic or comprehensivespe~ulatlons about the processes of environmental degradation weretaking shape on the new European island colonies. These speculationseventually focussed on the connections between deforestation andclimatic change.

. Fr~m the twelfth century onwards the Spanish and Portuguesecolonisation of the Canary islands, Madeira, and, after 1492, the West~ndie~ started ~o lead to a developing awareness of the capacity of thecolonist to decimate both indigenous populations and forest cover. Thehigh rate ofdeforestation in Madeira and the Canary islands was directlyrelated to the remarkable growth in the emergent European urbanmarket for sugar products and the opportunities for profits presented bythe devel~pment of sugar planfations. Faced with the consequences ofdeforestation and the loss ofhydraulic storage capacity, the colonists andplanters had to resort to a wholesale development ofartificial irrigationsyste~s c.o~str~cted by Genoese engineers but based on the designs ofMOOrIsh rrriganon systems in SpainPThe new levelofdeforestation also

45Conserving EdenEcology, Climate and Empire44

rl..I:

I' I

III

II

28 Theophrastus' HistoriaPlantarumwas translated into Latin in 1483, according to I.H.Burkill, (Chapters in the History ofIndian Botany [Delhi: Government ofIndia Press,1965]).29 K. Thompson, 'Forests and climatic change in America: some early views', ClimaticChange, 3 (1983), pp. 47-64.

30 For a detailed discussion ofthis, see Ernst Bloch, 'Geographical Utopias', ch. 2 of Theprinciple ofhope (Oxford, 1986). '

31 See A. Keymer, 'Plant imagery in Dante', (M.Phi!. dissert., Faculty of ModernLanguages, Universiry of Cambridge, 1982).

32 ]. Prestt, The Garden ofEden: the botanic garden and therecreation ofparadise (NewHaven, 1981 ).

gave rise to a more generalised theoretical response. In particular,Theophrastus' classical theories were circulated once more with theRenaissance, while the publication ofhis works in Latin in 1483 assuredtheir wider dissemination." Christopher Columbus, for example, isreported by his son, Ferdinand, to have warned constantly ofthe dangersofforest clearance on West Indian islands, such as a decline in rainfall,29Such notions may have arisen from the explorer's own observations oftheacute water shortages in the Canary islands after the forests were cut over.These observations are likely to have been coupled with a knowledge ofTheophrastus' theories.

Thus on the earliest European island colonies the destructiveeffects ofcapital-intensive economic activity first became fully apparentand elicited an environmental critique. Significantly too, at about thistime the classical idea of the island as an Eden or social refuge wasrevivified, much as Theophrastus' ideas had received a new lease of lifeat the time ofColumbus. Indeed the conviction that an Eden might befound across the ocean may have sustained Columbus in his transatlanticexploit.P" Long before this, in Purgatorio, Dante had already transferredclassical notions ofParadise or the Hesperides to the Atlantic in the formof an 'earthly paradise' or an 'island in the Southern Ocean'."

During the fifteenth century too, the developing Renaissanceconception ofthe botanic garden asa symbolic location for the recreation

ofParadise took firm root, displacing the simpler apothecarialf..l?".,,1nnota­tions of the early medieval herbal gardens.32In this way theltal~s (andshortly afterwards the Dutch, French and English) adapted ai elabo-

e:~

47Conserving Eden

~ated upon.Arabic: Persian, and Mughal garden models, thus structurallylOcorporatlOg notions ofParadaeza (meaning, literally, in FarsilAncientIranian, an enclosed garden) associated with the gardens of, for example,Mesopotamia and Moorish Spain.

All these changes formed part ofan important Renaissance shiftin attitudes away from identifying earthly Nature with the fallen state ofman and towards a new conception of nature as an intended and

be~efi~entpart ofdivine purpose. By about 1550, therefore, many ofthemajor intellectual and metaphorical themes had emerged which werelater to form the infrastructure for a new kind of environmentalistre~ponseto evidence ofthe Europeans' destructive capabilities in tropicalclimates, Although the conditions ofEuropean pro tocapitalism (with its

nascent urban market for luxury products from the tropics) stimulafedthe onset oftr~picalplantation agriculture and the tropical timber trade,a new valuation of nature (symbolised at first in the re-creation ofParadise in the botanic garden and closely associated with the geographi­cal search for the Garden ofEden) provided a philosophical and quasi­theological basis for an interventionist response to environmental de­struction. As a part of this response, it is noteworthy that two Europeanprecedents for land management, new irrigation technology and the~ntecedents of the botanic garden, played a significant part. MoreI~port.ant,the paradise metaphor, particularly in its stereotyped associa­non WIth newly colonised and previously uninhabited desert islands.

. d .. 1 b I~cqU1re ~ transiuona sym olic role in the more complex use of theImage of Island as a device for representing religious or social utopias.Although Thomas More had pioneered the use ofthis utopic form as the

bas~s ~or s~cial critiq~~, i~ rec~i:eda new lease oflife with the spread ofa dlst~nctlvely Calvinistic wtlhngness to perceive and create earthlyparadl~es, a d:velopme~t reflected in the emergence ofa whole genre ofdesert Island literature 10 English and French. Bishop Francis Godwin'sThe man in the moone is a case in point. The book conceived ofthe islandofSt Helena as a paradise and pointed to the limitations ofits resourcesin. sustaining visiting Europeans. By fictionally representing his hero,DIego Gonzales, as a man who moves physically away from the island (aconv~nient metaph~r for the world), circles the world in a flyingmachine, and then VIews the world from the moon, Godwin underlined

Ecology, Climate and Empire46

rII

33 J. Edel, 'The Braziliansugar cycleofthe seventeenth centuryand the riseofWest Indiancompetition', Caribbean Studies, 9 (1969), pp. 24-44.

34 D. Watts, Environmentalchange, slavery and agriculturaldevelopment in the Caribbeansince 1492 (Cambridge, 1985).

35 This stood in stark contrast to the official response developing outside the European

the new physical and interpretative power of man. relative to the worldand the cosmos. Implicitly, then, Godwin portrays man as havingacquired both a new capacity for destructiveness anda capacity, in theterms of the seventeenth-century scientific revolution, to understandand control his actions. Appropriately, both these new capacities beganto be displayed on St Helena in the late seventeenth century. However,the development ofa utopic, yet empirically based, literary genre becameof great consequence in conceptualising the growing human impact,especially among the adherents ofsuch utopian writers as Defoe and hisdevotee, Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

The rapid expansion of European plantation agriculture in the

West Indies did promote some attempts at conservation during theseventeenth century. Often, however, the response to environmentaldegradation involved a progressive westward displacement from oneCaribbean island to another as these environments were successivelyexhausted by plantation cropping. It soon became clear that the verydestructive and visually dramatic impact ofplantation agriculture on thesoils of a tropical island required either outmigration and relocation ofthe whole plantation economy or the development of a systematicconservationist response. Proximity to other islands and to SouthAmerica meant that the former course was often adopted in the WestIndies. The Dutch, for example, in a number of instances, shifted theirplantation activities from island to island and then, eventuaij.x, toBrazil.33As David Watts has recently shown, conservationist forms ~-soilerosion control did develop in the West Indies during the seventjlj:nth

4 ~century." However, they were devoted more to ensuring the contmua-tion of plantation activity than the survival of any forest cover. Thosecolonial officials, such as the Governor of Barbados in the 1670s, whoexpressed more comprehensive concerns and plans for conservation,were generally ignored by their masters at the rnetropole.P

domain, particularly in Japan. Here, as Conrad Totman has recently revealed rapidpopulation increases, urban growth, and fuelwood demand had led to a widespreadeco!o~~c~ crisis by the mid-seventeenth century. The Tokugawa Shogunate respondedby rrunanng an el~borate forest conservation and reafforestation programme designedboth to safeguard timber reservesand prevent soil erosion. These measures, however, donot appear to have become known to European contemporaries. See C. Totman, Thegreen archipelago (Berkeley, 1989).

36 See Grove, 'Early Themes in Mrican Conservation', pp. 21-39.

37 For an overall historical treatment, see P. Gosse, St Helena, 1502-1938 (10 d1938). non,

49Conserving Eden

. !he emergence in the seventeenth century of a new kind ofcapitalist structure, the joint stock trading company, as a new, flexible,and more capit~-intensiveelement in European expansion helped topromote plantation and trading activities at a much greater distance fromEurope than before. This provided, too, the conditions for further far­reaching environmental changes. The new companies, often reinforcedby the growing ambitions ofEuropean states, began to transform someof th~ often uninhabited oceanic islands, earlier treated simply asstopping places for the ships ofmany nations, into the locations ofmorepermanen.t kinds ofsettlement for military and plantation development,aswell as timber extraction. By 1670 St Helena, Mauritius, and Formosahad all been colonised by the Dutch or the English. It was on theseislands, located along the main trading routes to India and China thatsophisticated forms ofstate conservation first emerged. In some respects~he Cape. of Good Hope can also be treated physiographically as anIsland, WIth a parallel and early growth in the state's awareness ofenvironmental constraints."

The tropical island colonies were generally small and the conse­quences ofdeforestation, especially in terms ofstreamflow decline couldbe quickly observed and thus acted upon. In this way insular envircn­

ments stimulated both innovative interventionist responses and theori­

sation in environmental terms. The history ofSt Helena illustrates this

particularl~ well.37 Annexed by tpe English in 1659, the island wasextremely Isolated. This extreme isolation, combined with its central

importance asa secure watering an~provisioning point for the East IndiaCompany ships, placed the island's resources under heavy pressure. By

I

Ecology, Climate and Empire48

50 Ecology, Climateand Empire Conserving Eden 51

A map o/St Helena, publishedshortly afterthe time a/the Englishsettlement.

1700 St Helena had become extensively deforested, and soil er~(;m anddeep gullying were widespread. The history of this progressive'Uegrada­tion is recorded in minute detail in Company diaries and in cOd,:spond­ence between the governor and the EIC Court ofDirectors in London,"which also elaborately record the story of the innovative early attemptsmade to impede further dererioration."

In less remote locations the island would have been quicklyabandoned. Indeed, in 1716, a newly arrived Governor of St Helena

38 For adetailed compilation ofrheSr Helenarecords, seeH. R.Janisch, ed., Extractsftomthe St Helena records Oamestown, St Helena: Government Printer, 1908).

39 For a detailed account, see Grove, Green imperialism, ch. 3; see also Q.C.B. Cronk,'The Historical and Evolutionary Development of the Plant Life ofSt Helena,' (Ph.D.thesis, University of Cambridge, 1985), pp. 53-88.

Lateseventeenth-century engraving oftheDodo, takenfrom Strickland,The Dodo and its kindred. The Dodo lived in the dry lowlandebony

firest andpersihedas muchfrom disappearance a/its habitat asfrom thedepredations qfvisitingsailors.

I

I

canvassed the possibiliry of resettling the inhabitants on Mauritius,which the Dutch had recently vacated." The continuing importance ofSt Helena to the Company as a replenishment point meant that thiscould not realistically be allowed to happen. Between 1670 and 1770,therefore, almost every successive governor on the island attempted tocontrol the ecological changes which were taking place. The mostambitious efforts were those made by Governor Roberts in 1709, who setup forest reserves and afforestation programmes, introduced an irriga-

40 Letter, St Helena Council to Court of Directors, dt 19 February 1715, in Janisch, StHelena records, p. 113.

I

I52 Ecology, Climate and Empire Conserving Eden 53

tion system, and attempted to exterminate thegoat population, which hehad identified as peculiarly destructive.t'Furtlaermore, he and his succes­sor attempted to transplant specimens of the increasingly rare St Helenaredwood in the fear that it was about to become extincr.V The efforts ofthe Governors, amongst the earliest made in recognition of the likelyextinction of an endemic species, were successful. Later Governors,particularlyJohn Byfield in the 1730s, imitated Roberts' conservationistmethods and philosophy.P In so doing they found themselves constantlyat odds, as Roberts had been, with the relatively unschooled opinion of

the East India Company's Court of Directors. Indeed, throughout theeighteenth century the Company seemed quite incapable ofunderstand­ing the environmental c<;>nsequences ofintroducing plantation schemesinto the island and was especially unwilling to support the Governors intheir efforts to regulate the environment ofthe island through protectingthe forests and corralling animals. Each succeeding Governor quicklyfound himselfsidingwith the settler freeholders against the Company ona wide variety ofland-use issues, not the least being the recognition oftheneed for communal land-use practices, to which the islanders hadconsistently adhered despite all the efforts of the Court of Directors.v'Despite the conservation policies pursued by Roberts and his successors,the sheer scale ofthe erosive processes at work on St Helena and the lackof any relevant environmental insights derived from the outside worldmeant that, when Sir Joseph Banks visited the island in 1~:V' he was ~.

shocked at what he saw and contrasted it unfavourably with t~situation

at the Cape Colony. There, he asserted, the Dutch colonists~admadea 'Paradise ofa desert,' while the Company had allowed the 'P!lradise' ofSt Helena to 'become a desert.r"

The central difficulty for the Governor-conservationists of StHelena was that they had to deal with a Company hierarchy that, before

41 Council to Court of Directors, dt November 1708, in Janisch, St Helena records, p. 85.

42 Ibid., p. 88.

43 St Helena Council Diary, dt 23 October 1745, in Janisch, St Helena records, p. 183.

44 Ibid., pp. 105-106.

45 Sir Joseph Banks, diary entry; dt May 1771, in J.e. Beaglehole, ed., The 'EndeavourJournal'ofSirJoseph Banks, 1768-1771 (Sydney: Sydney University Press, 1%8), vol.6.

~he 1~90s, possessed no insights into the impact of European capital­intensrve ~nd slave employing agricultural methods on a tropical land­

scape or into the destructive hydrological consequences of tropicaldeforestation. In dire~t contrast to the French state at the same period,the EIC had not at this stage yet developed any serious commitment tothe commercial or practical cultivation ofscientific expertise.46A furtherproblem related to the divergent traditions of the state's involvement inforestry in England and France. In England the state's role in forestregulation, particularly during and after the Commonwealth period~ecame severely restricted. As a result, that country was forced increas~mgly to rely upon timber supplies from the Baltic region and NorthAmerica." In France, by contrast, the state itselfacquired a more directrole in forest control under Colbert's direction.48Thus in the period from

1660 to 1760, as a consequence of these differences, two quite separatemodels of tropical forest management developed on St Helena andMauritius respectively. A distinctive forest conservation system was alsodeveloped at the Cape but was cut short by the onset of British rule. InFrance, the provisions ofthe 1669 Forest Ordinance ensured that forestmanagement was treated in conjunction with water management andadministered by Inspecteurs des Eaux et Forers. 49 Thus, from the outset,French approaches to the environment of Mauritius involved a well­developed awareness of the possibility of ecological regulation and

control.. The Dut.ch had already fploited intensively the ebony for themarket m luxury Island woods during the earlier period ofDutch rule. 50

By contrast, the Dutch management of the Cape environment, at leastI

,

46 Probably the East India Company's earliest formal scientific appointment was that ofDr. Joh~n Koen~g ~ 'Company Naturalist' at Madras in 1778. Koenig had earlier helda post as Naturalist to the Nawab ofArcot, The much earlier instance ofpatronage bythe C~~p~ny represented by the sponsorship of Edmund Halley on his St. Helenaexpedition In 1676 should perhaps be discounted for this purpose.

47 J. Thirsk, ed., Agriculturalhistory ofEngfandandWales(Cambridge 1985) vol 5 pp375-376. ' ,.,.

48 John Croumbie Brown, TheFrench Forest Ordinance of1669 (Edinburgh, 1876).

49 Jean-Claude Wacquet, Les Grandes mattres des eaux etftrets deFrance de 1689 afaRlvolution (Paris: Librarie Droz, 1978).

50 !,R. Brouard, The woods andftrests ofMauritius (St Louis, Mauritius: GovernmentPrinter, 1%3), pp. 1-12.

r,54 Ecology, Climateand Empire Conserving Eden 55

on paper, was highly regulated and cautious, mirroring the carefulorganisation needed to husband and manage the limited resources oftheNetherlands." Dutch Mauritius, on the other hand, had been treatedmerely as a source of high-value timber and was abandoned once theforests easilyreached near the coast were depleted, Indeed, the exclusivelydepletionary management ofMauritius seems to have been the exceptionto the general rule ofDutch caution. Deliberate and systematic workingofthe teak forests in Java, on an apparently sustainable basis, had alreadybeen commenced by the Dutch East India Company (VOC) in 1677.52

Such a policy clearly depended on a considerable degree of territorialcontrol ofa kind not yet achieved in Asia by the French or British duringthis period.

When the French annexed Mauritius in 1721, the commercialrivalry between Britain and France had begun to sharpen. This leddirectly to an intensive contest for control over sources ofmarine timberfor the navies needed for the growing struggle for global trade andinfluence, particularly in the Indian Ocean.P It was in this setting thatthe financial collapse ofthe Compagnie des Indes after 1763 elicited thedirect intervention ofthe French Crown in the government ofMauritiusand a more direct attempt at intervention in the control of the strategi­cally important forests.54 The fact that the French possessed no equiva­lent to the vast forests ofNorth America, which were now accessible tothe British, further stimulated a cautious attitude towards wjmber re­sources, particularly on Mauritius (the Isle de France) an~eunion(Bourbon). ~

e ,r

51 T.R. Sirn, Theforests andforestfloraofthefllony oftheCape ofGoodHope(Edinburgh,1907), pp. 76-80.

52 For an overall literature survey, see P. Boomgard, 'Forests and forestry in colonial]ava,1677-1942', in]. Dargavel, ed., Changing tropicalforests: historicalperspectives on torJay'schallenges (Canberra: Australian National University, Centre for Resource and Environ­mental Studies Special Publication, 1989). Far more detailed accounts are contained innumerous articles by E.H.B. Brascarnp, in particular 'Hourlevanties order de 0.1.Compagnie. DeAate van 21] uin desor de soeshanan aan de 0.1. compagnie verleend tothet Kappen van hout-weiken in de bosschen van blora [uit her koloniaal ArchiefNo.XLXII)', TijdschriftvoorIndische taal; landenVolkenkunde vanhetKoninklijkeBataviaaschGenootschap vanKusten en Wettemchappen, 52 (1932), pp. 108-112.

An analogous process had been taking place in India itself Fromas early as AD 800 a gradual pattern of state forest control had beenemerging. 55 Reinforced by the advent of Mughal rule, this shift awayfrom communal forest use towards state intervention was acruallyaccelerated by the ascendancy of the successor states to the Mughals,particularly on the West Coast of India, where timber harvesting wasmost intensive. Thus, as early as the 1740s, the rulers of the Marathaempire had found it expedient to acquire control over large tracts ofcoastal forest and to set up plantations, both for shipbuilding andrevenue.t'' In Cochin and Travancore similar monopoly controls overforest were initiated." However, the most extensive pre-colonial pro­grammes for afforestation and forest protection were carried on, between1770 and 1840, by theAmirs ofSind. 58 Such pre-colonial policies ofstateforest control in India are historically important, not least because theBritish used them extensively to legitimate new attempts at forestreservation in the Bombay Presidency during the 1840s. 59 Thus, byabout 1770, throughout many regions of South Asia, the Mascarenes,and the East Indies, a widespread emergence ofstate forest controls hadbecome clearly apparent. This phenomenon developed as relatively

53 See R. C. Albion, Forests and sea-power: the timberproblem ofthe RoyalNavy, 1652­1862 (Harvard, 1926).

54 The dynamics ofFrench naval timbrr demand are dealt with in P .W. Bamford, Forestsand French sea-power, 1660-1789 (Toronto, 1956), pp. 88-102.

55 Some idea ofthe early stages of this process is contained in Diprakanjan Das, Economichistory oftheDeccan (Delhi: Munshiram, 1976), pp. 105-115.

56 Reportofthe Bombay Forest Commission, 1887, vols. 1 and 2 (Bombay: Government

Press, 1887). The taxation features ofMaratha forest policy are an unexplored field in

research terms; however, for a cursory survey, see H. B. Vashishta, Land revenue andpublicfinance in Marathaadministration, (Delhi, 1975), pp. 138-146.

57 Until the end of the eighteenth century, the forests ofCochin were under the control

of the feudal chiefs of Nadivazlis, who owed allegiance to the Rajah ofCochin. In 1813a forest department was set up under a Mellei Melvicharappan (Mountain Superintend­

ent); see H. Viswanarh, ed., Workingplan for Chakakuan (Trivandrum: Forest Depart­ment, 1958), pp. 12-13. For details of the Travancore timber monopolies and earlyforest conservancy, see F. Bourdillon, ed., Reporton Travancore forests (Trivandrum:Government Printer, 1886), pp. 15-16.

58 A short account of these is given by H.T. Lambrick in Sir Charles Napierand Sind(Oxford, 1952), pp. 22-24, 192-193.

56 Ecology, Climate and EmpireConserving Eden 57

integrated forces ofeconomic penetration began to respond to new levelsof trade and demand, particularly in the search for timber to satisfy theincreasingly complex demands of both western and indigenous naviesand growing urban centres.f'' In Mauritius the demands of the colonialstate took avery distinctive form. A continuing timber shortage in Franceand the growing size of the French navy meant that Labourdonnais,Governor ofMauritius after 1731, found it worthwhile to construct andrepair ships locally, utilising Mauritius teak. A fleet of these ships wasthen used, successfully, to attack Madras in 1746.61

However, naval demand was not the only destabilising factor onMauritius. Under Labourdonnais the ecological distortions that haddeveloped in an island environment subjected to the demands of aplantation economy gave rise, as they had on St Helena, to anxietiesabout the capacity of this climatically unreliable island even to producesufficient food for its settler population and slave-labour force.62 Thesefears led Labourdonnais to develop a new botanic garden with thespecific objective of breeding drought-resistant crops to tide the popu­lation over the leaner years. This type of institutional concept was laterimitated and elaborated by Colonel Robert Kyd as justification forfounding a botanic garden at Calcutta in 1786, an innovation which laterbecame vital in providing the infrastructure for the scientific monitoringof environmental changes in India.63

~ ..59See, for example, Alexander Gibson, 'Description ofthe System Adapted for tIltForestConservancy of the Bombay Presidency', in A. Gibson, ed., A handbookfor thtl)rests oftheBombay Presidency, (Byculla: Government Printer, 1863). Gibson states that 'Teakand "Junglewood" have been carefully preserved ever since this tract of country cameunder the rule of the Angria, and even, I think, dates from the taking of Sevendroog byAdmiral Watkins.'

60 A detailed account of the impact of new naval demand is found in RA. Wadia, TheBombay Dockyard and the Wadia master builders (Bombay, 1957).

61 Brouard, Woods andforests ofMauritius, p. 12.

62 R. Toussaint, ed., Dictionary ofMauritian biography (5 vols, Port Louis, 1941-84), p.154. See also Grove, green imperialism, ch, 5. .

63 R Kyd to Company Board, Fort William, Madras, dt 15 April 1786, quoted in'Proceedings of the Supreme Council relative to the establishment of a botanic gardenat Mackwa Tannah' (Calcutta). [In India Office Library, Home Miscellaneous, No.799), pp. 1-207.]

The most significant intellectual departure in French environ­mental policy on Mauritius, the installation of a forest reservationsystem, was explicitly based on the fear of the impact ofdeforestation onrainfall and soil erosion. This was a direct consequence ofthe assumption

ofdirect political control by the Crown and the rise to political influencein government, especially in the Navy ministry, of a group of menstrongly attracted by Physiocracy, a political and economic philosophywhich had originated in the writings ofeconomist Richard Cantillon andphysician Francois Quesnay. Significantly, it attached particular impor­tance to the working ofthe 'laws ofnature' in economics.v' The politicalascendancy of the Physiocrats facilitated the appointment of PierrePoivre as Commissaire-Intendant of Mauritius in 1766. Poivre hadevolved a conservationist approach to the environment essentially asmatter of moral economy in a manner characteristic of the Physiocrats.A p:oper understandingofthe basis ofthe environmental moral economywhich he advocated necessitates an appreciation ofthe antecedents oftheman himself.65 Poivre was at one time a Jesuit priest and had first visitedMauritius in the 1740s. He then used the island as the base for a seriesof expeditions to collect spice tree specimens from the Moluccas.f" Aprimary part of this exercise involved attempts to transplant importedspecies of spices in Mauritian soil. This had led Poivre directly to aninterest in soil conditions, soil humidity, water table levels, and thedesirability of maintaining an extensive protective tree cover so thatagricul~u~e on the island mig~~ prosper. He had become especiallyappreCIatIve of the attempts made by the Dutch at the Cape in soilerosion prevention and in planting shelter belts. 67

64 H. Higgs, ThePbysiocrats: sixlectures on theFrench economistes oftheeighteenth century(London, 1897).

65 For biographical details ofPoivre, seeL. Malleret, Pierre Poiure (Paris: L'Ecole Francaisd'Exrrerne Orient, 1974).

66 These journeys are detailed in Madeleine Ly-Tio-Fane, Mauritiusand thespice trade:theOdysseyofPierrePoiure (Port Louis: Mauritius Archives Publication Fund 1958) and'Pierre Poivre er I'expansion franc,ais dans l'lndo-Pacifiques', Bulletinde1'E;0!e Fra~faisd'Extreme Orient, 1967, Extrait du Tome L111 Fasc, n, 2.

67 Pierre Poivre, Travels ofa philosopher: or observations on the manners ofthe variousnations in Aftica and Asia (Dublin, 1770).

68 On thevalue ofempirical observations oftheOrient,seeP. Poivre, 'Utilite d'un voyagedans l'Orient', in P. Poivre, Citoyen du monde;ou lettres d'un pbilosopbe aus amis daml'Orient (Amsterdam, 1763), p. 172.

69 L. Malleret, ed., Un manuscritdePierre Poivre: les memoiresd'un voyageur (paris: EcoleFrancaisd'Extreme Orient, 1%8), pp. 113-114.

70 P. Poivre, D'Ameriqueet desAmericains(Berlin, 1771).

71 Poivre's seminal metropolitan interlude is covered in Y. Laissus, 'Note sur lesmanuscrits de Pierre Poivre (1719-1786) conserves 11 la bibliotheque centrale duMuseum National d'Histoire Naturelle', Proceedings of the Royal Society ofArts andSciences ofMauritius,vol. 4, part 2 (1973), p. 37 andP: 37, n, 2.

7Z H Higgs, ThePhysiocrats, p. 78.

Poivre became very critical ofwhat he saw as the profligate anddestructive felling of trees on Mauritius, maintaining that the lack ofcontrol contrasted badly with Dutch practices at the Cape. Poivre had,furthermore, made himself familiar, during a period ofenforced deten­tion in Canton, with Chinese horticultural methods." Later, too, hebecame acquainted at Pondicherry and in Malabar with indigenousIndian techniques for irrigation and planting trees and referred exten­sively to this knowledge in his writings.69 Poivre's return to Francecoincided with the rise in prominence of the agronomes and a period ofintense activity in Enlightenment science. After his arrival, he added tohis unrivalled knowledge oftropical land-use practices in a wide-rangingsurvey of travel and scientific literature on the Americas in which heprobably first encountered desiccation theories." Significantly, many ofhis writings during this period contained biting critiques of the Europe­ans' treatment of indigenous peoples in the Americas, and his extensivelectures on tropical land use and agriculture aimed particularly scathingcriticism at colonial land-use methods,"! These criticisms soon came tothe attention of the Physiocratic political circle surrounding the Due deChoiseul, who was himselfclosely associated with Physiocratic thinkingand attracted by a philosophy which set great store by notions of themoral superiority of agricultural versus financial prosperity and by thevirtues of scientific agriculture versus short-term profitmaking.F TheDuc de Choiseul had, however, found it politically impossible ~lassert

his reforming Physiocratic zeal in any substantial way in France i~lf, sohe increasingly turned to the colonies in the hope of exercis.i~,g hisreforming ideals, much as Lord Dalhousie did in India in the nextcentury.

The encounter with Mauritius gave both de Choiseul and Poivrethe opportunity to experiment with their ideas. Choiseul could exercisethe role of the state in reform by putting Physiocracy into practice, andPoivre could carry out a programme oftransplantation and conservation.'If the forests do not regenerate in the island,' Choiseul wrote in hisinstructions to Poivre,

2

S9Conserving Eden

. On his arrival in Mauritius in 1767 Poivre immediately made asen.es of sp~eches and proclamations to the French colonists, many ofwhich specifically emphasised the high priority attached to preservingthe island forests,?4 This, he asserted, would assure the colony a reliablelevel ofrainfall. A morality expressed in land use, Poivre implied, wouldco~plementthe religious moralityofthe individual. These environmen­tal homilies were later published as revolutionary tracts in Paris in 1797.probably less for their revolutionary environmentalism than for theirclass-based critique of colonial absentee landlordism.75 The desire tomake a clean sweep ofcolonial conventions did not stop with plans forenvironmental reform. Poivre al~o took initial steps in a campaign toabolish slavery on the island, a !cause which he was unable to carrythrough. Indeed, he experienced much opposition both in this respectand in his conservation programmes, not least from a succession ofislandGovernors who felt threatened by his attempts to stamp out timber andproperty speculation by colonial officials for private gain. At the end of

rain wi.ll be less frequent, the over-exposed soil will be burnt by thesun... timbershallbeyour particularattention .... Complaintshavebeenmade that this very important matter has not received all the care andattention which it deserves. MessrsDumas and Poivreshould hasten tocontrol it with a good policy; they will exercise the existingregulationson the subject, study the exact conditions of the forests, exploit andutilisethem in the most economicalwaypossibleand only allowpeopleto cut them if they ensure their conservarion.P

73 R. Brouard, Woods and Forests ofMauritius, 10.

74 n,iscours p:ononds par M Poiure, Commissaire du Roi, Tun al'assemblee generale desbabitansde ['isle de France lars de sonarriue« dam lacolonie, l'autrealapremiereassembllepublique du Conseil Superieur nouveUement etabliedans l'isle (Port Louis: ImprimerieRoyale, 1768,50 pp.).Thispublication isvery rare, butacopy isat theAuguste BrunetLibrary, Toulon.

75 See I. Salles, ed., Oeuvres completes dePierre Poivre(Paris, 1797).

Ecology, Climate and Empire58

76 Theseparate articlesarecompiled in (Anon.) R1:glement economique surledlfrichementdes terresetla conservation des boisdel'Isle deFrance (Port Louis: Imprimerie Royale, 1769)[Auguste Brunet Library, Toulon]. The rules were signed by Governor Desroches aswellas Poivre himself.

77 Details ofthis transference are found, for example, in Government ofNatal, Reportofthe committee enquiring into the extent and condition of thefbres» lands of the colony(Pietermaritzburg: Government Printer, 1880) [Natal Provincial Archives,Pietermaritzburg], Evidence ofthe diffusion ofknowledge ofMauritius forest protectionregulations into India as early as 1844 is provided in W. H. Sleeman, Rambles andrecollections ofan Indian official (London: J. Hatchard, 1844), p. 450.

78 A certificate releasing Commerson to the service of Poivre's administration wasdelivered to him by Bougainvilleon 15 November 1768. For details, seeSeriesdesignated'Col-E.', Commerson's File, Fl., Archives Nationales, Paris.

1768 the departure of Governor Dumas, disgraced for his corruptinvolvement in land sales, allowed Poivre to carry on his conservationprogrammes unhindered. The first Forest Conse~ationOrdinance, orReglement Economlque, passed in November 1769,76 proved to be amodel of its kind. During the next century, its essential elements wereincorporated in future statutes in, for example, St Vincent (West Indies),the Cape Colony, Natal, and India."

In his pioneering conservation efforts, Poivre enlisted the aid oftwo men in particular, Philibert Commerson and]. H. Bernardin de StPierre. Poivre contrived to secure an appointment on the island as agovernment scientist for Commerson, who had arrived in Mauritius inNovember 1768 as the naturalist on the Bougainville expedition. Offi­cially Commerson was intended to carry out a pharmacological andtimber resource survey ofthe Mauritius forests." These surveys providedthe justification for Poivre's far-reaching conservation legislation of1769, who was also backed.in his efforts against the anti-conservationinterests on the island and in Paris by the ChiefEngineer of the colony,Bernardin de Saint Pierre. Later better known as one of the first Frenchromantic novelists and orientalists, Saint Pierre was a pioneer figure incampaigns against slavery, a practice which he had first witnessed onMauritius.Ylt was Saint Pierre who first pointed out to Poivre the extentto which deforestation on the island was contributing to the rapidsiltation of the main rivers and harbours of the island. This o~:rrvation

led Poivre to develop the twin concepts of the mountain resen1:and the

,~

61Conserving Eden

river reserve, the intellectual antecedents of ideas which were widel

~pp.li:~ in India after 1846. These steps were only partially successful ininhibiting the rate ofdeforestation on the island which, towards the endof the eighteenth century and increasingly during the nineteenth cen­tury, ca,meunder exceptional pressure as a result of the activities ofsugarplantation owners. However, had Poivre not introduced his conserva­tion system, there is little doubt that deforestation would have proceededat a much more rapid pace. Even today the boundaries of some of thereserves established by 1800 can still be seen, particularly along the westcoast ofMauritius, adjacent to Black River and Tamarin.

.Most of the conservationist initiatives taken by Poivre wereessentially locally derived. The critical innovation contained in the newconservation measures, while based in a broad sense on Colbert's 1669Fore~t Or~inance,consisted of the articulation ofnew insights into therelationship between forest cover, stream flow, soil erosion, and rainfall.Poivre's most effective argument to justify the sterilisation of forestcapital as reserved land involved a conviction that deforestation wouldcause a decline in rainfall. However, in evolving a methodology forco?servation in 1769, Poivre's precedents were only partly European.I:IIS tree-planting policies, for example, were based entirely on Indianprecedents, and he utilised species imported from Malabar and Bengalespecially bois noir. 80 '

Although for political purposes Poivre put forward economic andpharmaco~ogi~al reaso?s for pre~erving forests and contrivinglegislation,other motrvatrons which were almost certainly more significant to theInten~ant himselfwere also invhlved. These fell roughly into two kinds:the scientific and botanical and 'the unashamedly utopian. The presenceofone.of the largest and most elaborate botanical gardens in the world,sometimes known as a 'wonder of the East', and the presence ofCommerson, one of the most experienced and well-travelled Frenchbotanists of the period, meant that the rich and endemic flora of theisland was soon recognised as scientifically important in world terms,

79 SeeJ.~. ~ernardin de Sain t Pierre, Voyageal'IsledeFrance (Paris, 1773). I have referredto the edition published in London in 1800 as A Voyage to theIsle ofFrance.8. This was probably Dalbergia latiftlia.

Ecology, Climate and Empire60

62 Ecology, Climateand Empire Conserving Eden 63

..

highly valued aesthetically and worthy of preservation." This aloneconstituted a significant impetus for the embryonic conservation lobby.Further encouragement to protect the island in its natural state wasprovided by the individual predilections of St Pierre and Commerson.Both were avid field botanists steeped in the writings of Rouss~au

(another contemporary botanist, who is better known in other roles).82Both were also social rebels who valued the natural state of the island asintegral to their conception ofthe colony as a practical and mental refugefrom the political and, for them, moral turmoil ofmetropolitan France.As a member ofBougainville's expedition, Commerson had the oppor­tunity to observe the inhabitants ofTahiti (which he called utopie) andbelieved their society idyllic in social and environmental terms. Hiswritings indicate that by 1768 he was already very critical ofmetropolitanFrance and its prevailing social values. He had little desire to return toFrance and, indeed, never did so before he died on Mauritius in 1773.Bernardin de Saint Pierre, trained in botany by Poivre himself, returnedto France to write Paul et Virginie and to become the main confidant ofRousseau, whom he had long admired and corresponded with. Hismanifestly ecological views were set out in three major texts, Journey totheIsledeFrance, Studiesin Nature (in which Paul et Virginie formed thefourth volume) andHarmonies o/Nature. Poivre, Commerson, and SaintPierre all arrived in Mauritius at a time when the French preoccupationwith the 'Robinsonades' (imitations of Defoe's Robinson CrTff,qe) wasdeveloping into a fully developed cult or mythology of the S~t'h Seatropical island. The desire ofall three men to preserve an unspoilt,~topian

island environment necessitated some form of environmentalism, sim­ply to ensure the continuity ofthe Rousseauian return to nature to whichthey were dedicated." None of these motivations would have beentransmuted into the conservation policies pursued by Poivre had it notbeen for the opportunity which the Physiocrats had provided to Poivre

81 This valuing wasofa very personal kind on Commerson's parr: 'My plants,' he wrote,'my beloved plants haveconsoled me for everything; I found in them, Nepenthes, curare,dulce' (S. Pasfield-Oliver, The lifiofPhilibert Commerson [London, 1909], P- 202).

82 For details of Rousseau's botanical enthusiasms, see J.-J. Rousseau, Letters on theelements ofbotany addressedto a lady, trans. T. Martyn (London, 1782).

83 See Grove, Green imperialism, ch. 5.

in political terms. This permitted him free rein to pursue his environ­menta~ programme and his innovatory state patronage of scientificexpertise.

The emergence of conservationism on Mauritius under Poivremight be considered ofmerely antiquarian interest, but it was not so. TheIsle de France lay intellectually and geographically, as did Tahiti at thesame period, at the very core of the outward-looking intellectual andRomantic projects oflate-eighteenth-century France. One ofthe earliestmajor literary figures in the French Romantic reaction, Bernardin deSaint Pierre above all ensured that Mauritius became a central andsymbolic focus of contemporary aesthetic and Orientalist-Ieaning per­ception.84 Asa product ofthis intellectual climate, Poivre's conservation­ism itself left an intellectual legacy of environmental attitudes both inMauritius itself (which remained in the forefront of conservation ideasuntil the 1870s) and throughout a much wider colonial contexr" AfterPoivre left the island for France in 1772, his legislation for forestconservation was strengthened in 1777 and 1795, then much furtherela~~rated in 1804, at a time when the colony had acquired effectivepolitical autonomy under Governor Decaenr" Political isolation andnav~l blockade th~n ~nco.uraged the passing of additional pioneeringe~v1tonmentalleglslatlonm the fields ofwater pollution, fishery protec­non, and safeguarding watersheds. As was the case much later in Indiathe state botanic garden set up by Poivre at Pamplemousses provided anessential part of the intellectual and technical infrastructure needed forthese innovations. Furthermor~ the notion of the colonial scientificAcademic, first conceptualised i~ 1770 by Philibert Commerson, en-

84 See B. de Saint Pierre, Studies ofnature (5 vols, London, 1796); Harmonies ofnature(3 vols, London, 1815); Paul et Virginie (London, 1841); La chaumiere indienne(Calcutta, 1866).

85 For specificdetails ofthe links between Poivre's conservation policy on Mauritius andthe en~iro~mental philosophy of Edward Balfour, the original proponent of forestprotection In the Madras presidency, see IOL, V/27/568/107 [Correspondence filesontrees and the incidence of rainfall].

86 The main articles were Arrete of the 13th Messidor, Art. III (july 1795); and Arr~te~fthe 14th Vendemiaire, Art. XIII (October 1804). It was this lastlawwhich the BritishIncorporated on their annexation of the island in 1810.

Conservation legislation publishedby Governor Decaen on Mauritius in1804, based on the rules established byPierre Poivre in 1769.

P, ..I I I IIor'" ,;r.ffieren c"'Ut!l.1ri6,ln41d'tlpp~l ..tiJ 4/41rl. fl!rrll tl~ eI jOllr,:n"'5·$ r p~~ nt Ie' Commissair. du 1:0,,~..rn"H1.n', .

lUI lSi c' r.'1" '1' 3 .' CKASTEAV_.Au Pert Nord-Ouesl; ·10 12 Vl:ndlmiaire 1ID.l • •

EX'rait des l'egistres des arretes du Capitainc-GemJrql_

A U .N OM.DE· L A. REP U B L I QUE.

. DECAEN 'api/aine-Gen'''''' d.. Ktablissemmsfm1!f~i.Q l'Es/ till Clip .J. Donn... LJplroJJlce, -

S el P e~ C 1 • I ue pour l'annlage ele la colonio.... OR la reprt!senl3lion

lu . r cl °iol,a,; IIr~ en vigu"ur I", ancieus J~6Ie­

de l'Isle de Eruuce , ~ est .importan (~~~: e et sur I" police de la chasse etmens sur III co,,~erv~tlon del·s edul< c! ;lore d' l l'e"pl!rioll" ot les circOI1st~nae601" 18 peche, 01 dy. aJ".u~er. es- ,sPOSl!.ollS on .foal 8eatir eliaque Jour 1utlllle •

,4.l.l!.liTPl:

65Conserving Eden

,

I07 M. Ly-Tio-Fane, 'Notice historiqu< (Port Louis, Mauritius: Royal Society ofArts andSciences ofMauritius, I50th AnniverSary Commemorative Publication, 1986).

8S Bouton's conservation ideas were put forward in such publications as: 'Sur Iedecroissement des forets a I'ne Maurice', Le Cemien. 12-14 April 1838; 'Note sur Iedecroissement des forets', Rapportsdefa Societed'HistoireNaturelle denleMaurice, 1846,p. 10. For Balfour's views, see E. G. Balfour, 'Notes on the Influence Exercised by Trees

in Inducing Rain and Preserving Moisture', MadrasJournalo/Science andLiterature, 25(1849), pp. 402-448. Balfour had been stimulated in his advocacy offorest protectionby his observations ofthe efficiency ofthe Mauritius conservation ordinances and by hisreadings of the works of Joseph Priestley on the water-holding dynamics of theatmosphere (see IOL V27/560/107, pp. I-I I).

89 A. Beatson, 'Account of Mauritius' (unpublished ms, British Museum, BM13868,London, 1784).

sured a continuity ofscientific tradition developed further in the form ofthe Royal Society ofArts and Sciences ofMauritius."

Both in Mauritius and later in India and Southern Africa theexistence ofsuch local scientific institutions proved a critical stimulus tothe formulation of colonial responses to environmental change andprovided a platform for conservation propagandists, such as LouisBouton in Mauritius and Edward Balfour in Madras." In contrast to thesituation on St Helena until the 1780s, the environmental analysisoftheconsequences ofdeforestation on Mauritius was based not only on localobservation but on insights derived from a whole range of intellectualconcepts developed in regions as diverse as France. the Cape Colony,China, and Malabar. However, Poivre had synthesised a coherent bodyofenvironmental thought, stimulated largely by the specific conditionsofcolonial rule in the tropics. However, until the 1820s no comparableintellectual development of an environmental consciousness had yetemerged in metropolitan Europe. The first application ofPoivre's ideasoutside Mauritius itself took place, perhaps not surprisingly, on StHelena. Surveys carried out by Alexander Beatson, an army officer andsubordinate of Arthur Wellesley in Mysore, on Mauritius in 1794indicated that by then the scientific rationale behind forest reservation onMauritius was becoming more widely known. 89 Thus, in that same yearthe EIC somewhat belatedly instructed the St Helena government to

protect the forests on the island as a way of ensuring that the rainfall

Ecology, Climateand Empire

Atlm;"!s/r,,,;on Fores/itre.

TIT REP REM I E R.De 14conun'QI;on tIts Boir;

AJ\TICLJ: l"JlE)(IJ:1I..

, • 1 I' ho: d 'bout lie pourra se fa ire • IallS oru'aupan'l'all! IeAuc.nn (Ufrlc,em~n ",e, o,~ c, Lureau de la ceuservation des eaux "I fori!!s,.;

r.·ropri " l a ~,,: du dlt:rI~ln ~a~::it~UJi!a::en. qu'it V"l1dnl moltre. en oullure.; cette ~oI:a M~laralloll e a q""'1 hi. con 'orvallon des eaux el forell de cette hie, billSl

.lanUoo ayanl pOllr ~ I" • • .r . k uomlque dell boos de -::onslrucllOO. • . . .t:lue em p.o] '0 '~i~laire r~"e~rera • eo bois d"baul, Ie ~IJl.I~me au morns de sa,

II. ~O;I~ ~I ~n outre ceux e:listan!: sur les Ilts , enearssemens er e~carpemcnspropt;! .t,_' ct ru·,.seaus; 5i ces parties de terreiu sonl uno Mpendauce de saClcs T1Vlrres •prorri#'~." , 'I ,uenJu de dHriehcr les mornes et pitons nu-ddl du liers'I est e:lpressl.ruen ~c" .

d I I ureur ;\ parl'r de la Lase. • L· I' ",, e eor ,a b " . .rv~s sur les hords des rivihes et 'rursseaux- ~ "'cree,. "In res lII8 seront conse . a Ptl d 11 rd': 'sair dla ne rive seront de cent "jogl p.'eds d~ largeur J . P~,_,,! u. 0

,~: ~:·:Uer. ;u~q~';\ deux lieu~6 de disranee en lIgoe directe 1 .cl de sOI~le pleds,

u delA de cl'l!O ilislance., , . 1 II ~ (] • ta· u les habil:<tions et autres Iieux Msi!;nt!'s e~ I ~r"c e • q. evaIe~_f IV.~5 r.e oil Ies l-ois ont ~te Mlru;ls , tout p'roprtelalre sera tenu d. r"la~hr,.p'~\e der ;~a:~:ii':'ll. uti .ewi5

1les reserves et liH~"s doll'endakles de Ie proprlete.

• i·devBol dtIL.·rmm#eo. • a' 'h E -"u IHlt.I~~e de la plantation presertte deua ~Ire eD~r.tur. ~ aque ann e. ,V~ Toul propritltaire limilrophe des reserves. de Ia Rf;r,uhl're vers Ie borel,1~

la mer o,'r" teuu' de conserv~r sur sou terreln. un r, ~au". e eenl '1"alre-YW b

. ' lar eur. daDS les parhes 011 eel r·lserves sonl debOloees. • ':P ~~:u:edonr')e! ter~ins K~' lrouvenl MenoHrts da,?s Jes.mf_mes p~rll~l, ~."ron~ten;,s de relail'ir la li,,~re pdr des tem;s oU plaolalloDs d arlires. aln" qU 11 es,

Preseril par I'article I V. . " I IV ! V ropEVI I." 1,ropri~laireo qui, ne 5e seronl pas cDnforw~s au" arh,;,es • e I' ,se ni.

.o"](I~mo~6 A une amende. qui rie pOlirra ~tre' tilomdre de rJOj-I-C1nq iar~5.dili.'JI exc~del delU, ceD8 I UserilCll, oulro:p(oc~d~ Alelln !rllJ6 el vpen' I . il '

64

90 Letter, EIC Court ofDirectors to Governor, St Helena, dt23 ]anuaryl794, in]anisch,St Helena Records.

9\ IOL, Home Misc., no. 799, letters on pp. 1-201.

92 A. Beatson, Tracts relative totheislandofSt Helena. writtenduringa residency offiveyears(London, 1816).

93 For details of].D. Hooker's visit to Ascension island, see E. Duffey, 'The TerrestrialEcology ofAscension Island' ,JournalofAppliedEcology, 1 (1967), pp. 219-236. A briefdiscussion of earlier afforestation programmes under the East India Company and theimpact of tree-planting on rainfall in St Helena is found in the St Helena Almanac, vol.1 (1848), p. 24.

The Indian Medical Service and the Emergence of Conservationismin India

The employment of medical surgeons as superintendents of botanicgardens in India had already expanded the professional role of thesurgeon outside the medical service and laid the foundations for atechnical infrastructure ofscientific expertise. This infrastructure reliednot only on the diverse medical and botanical skills of the surge~ns buton their high level of university education and the considerabl~(')cialstatus conferred by the possession of medical knowledge in a cijsease­ridden tropical environment. In Mauritius, in a similar fashidh, theascendancy ofthe scientific lobby and its success in putting its preferred

would not decline." The establishment of botanic gardens at Calcuttaand St Helena in 1788, which imitated the French establishment onMauritius, may have heightened EIC sensitivity to the potential damagethat desiccation might cause. Certainly the famines in Bengal between1770 and 1784 had been a major anxiety to the Company, particularlyto Captain Robert Kyd, who persuaded the EIC to fund a CalcuttaBotanic Garden specifically to breed and test drought-resistant crops."In 1808 Alexander Beatson was appointed Governor ofSt Helena, wherehis programmes to plant trees and prevent soil erosion became wellknown through his own publications, particularly the Tracts onStHelena(1816).92 Knowledge of this activity and the improvements made byBeatson's programmes to the hydrological state of the island becameimportant when the foundations were being laid for forest protection inIndia during the late 1840s.93

67Comerving Eden

policies into operation was based primarily on the ability to demonstrateconvincingl~that uncont~olleddeforestationmight threaten the securityof the state Itself The high status afforded to science by the FrenchPhysiocratic interest in government facilitated this development.

On a much larger scale, but much more slowly, the views andinfluence of India's medical elite eventually acquires a similarly highstatus. Only gradually did this scientific lobby come to concern itself~ith the effects offorest clearance. However, when the medical surgeonsdId. fi~al~~ c~me to define deforestation as a matter requiring seriousPOII~y mltla~lVes and a~ expans~onin the role ofthe state, their opinionscarn~dconsI.de~ableweight. This was partlydue to the long historyofthemedical service s consultancy to the state on all matters relating to health,water supply, scientific botany, and forest resources. The tours ofDrAP.Hove in the Bombaypresidency (1787-88) were an early exemplar oftheperformance of this consultancy role." Moreover, as early as 1778 theCom~anyha~ begun to employ eminent surgeon-botanists, such asJ.G.Koenig, Patrick Russell, and William Roxburgh in official capacities asnaturalists, with the active encouragement, after 1784, of Sir JosephBanks, the president of the Royal Society.95 The subsequent systematicdevelopment oflinks between the EIC medical service and the scientificand botanical establishment in Britain served to reinforce the authorityof the surgeons as environmental commentators.

By 1830 the vast majority o(the 800 Company surgeons in Indiawere Scottish;" Many had been trained in botany by Professors JohnHope in Edinburgh and Williab Hooker in Glasgow, both keenadvocates of rigorous field observ'ation, holistic approaches to nature,and tree-planting programmes." Wherever attempts were made toestablish conservancies or teak plantations in Malabar, in Bengal, or inBurma between 1805 and 1822 (in connection with war-time timber

9~ A.P. Hove, 'Tours for scientific and economical Research made in Guzerat, Kattiawarand the Conkans in 1787-1788', BombaySelectionsXVI (Bombay: Government Printer,1855), pp. 50-185.

95 For biographical information on the surgeons employed by the EIC, see D.G.Crawford, The rolloftheIndian MedicalService (Calcutta, 1930).

96 H.H. Spry, Modern India (London, 1837), pp. 55-58.

97 See I.H. Burkill, Chapters in the history ofIndian botany (Calcutta, 1965).

Ecology, Climate and Empire66

Teakplantations established by Collector Conolly and ChaturMenon atNilumbur in Malabar. These trees, planted in the 1840s, werephotographed in 1994.

shortage), the Medical Service quickly became involved. As early as :he1820s some of the surgeons lobbied heavily against the deforestationtaking place during that decade and argued jn favour of plantatio.nprogrammes. Nathaniel Wallich, the director of the Calcutta Botanic

69ConservingEden

Ships under construction by traditional methods using Malabar teak atBeypore southofCalicut in 1994. Shipbuilding hastakenplaceat Beypore,according to local belief since thefirst century AD. It expanded under theEastIndia Company due to the effirtsofAlexander Maconochie.

Garden, was pre-eminent among these earlycampaigners. 'Dnlessspeedyprovision is made,' he stated to a parliamentary committee in 1831, 'forthe renewal of timber, we shall, within a very short time, find a mostpainful falling off. I should say it is quite time that means should beresorted to, to preserve the forests that are remaining, and new planta-

Ecology, Climate and Empire68

98 N. Wallich, Evidence ro Select Committee 1831-1832, British Parliamentary Papers,Colonies, East India, vol. 10 (1831), Col. 735.

99 R. Heber, Narrativeofa journey through the upperprovinces ofIndia from Calcutta toBombay, 1824-5 (London, 1828), p. 274.

100 In that year the Court ofDirecrors had warned the island Council that 'we are of theopinion that encouraging the growth ofwood isofutmost consequence to this Island notonly from the advantages to be derived from it as a fuel, but because it iswellknown thattrees havean attractivepoweron theclouds, especially when they pass over hills so high asthose on your island and we are inclined to believe that the misfortunes the island has beensubject to from drought may in some measure have been averted had the growth ofwoodbeen properly attended to'. [My emphasis.]

tions should be made. '98 In spite ofthese early efforts, a direct connectionbetween decline in forest area and apparent regional increases in desic- .cation in India was not put fotward as an argument for controllingdeforestation until the end of the 1830s.

This delay canbe partly attributed to a lackofevidence about ratesofdeforestation in India as a whole. Even so, throughout the 1820s and1830s anxieties about deforestation were already frequently expressed.Bishop Heber, for instance, warned in 1824 that excessive deforestation,ofthe kind he had observed in the Siwalik foothills, might lead to a moregeneral aridity."?A second reason for the delay may have been the paucityofarticles in sufficiently authoritative technical publications on the linksbetween deforestation and climate, despite the EIC's warning aboutdesiccation to the St Helena government as early as 1794. 100 Moreover,at this stage Mauritius's experience was still not widely known. In bothcolonies the essential limitations of resources on an island undergoingvisually apparent deforestation and soil erosion stimulated action as wellas theorisation. In contrast, no comparably coherent or comprehensiveevidence of the human environmental impact was available at a sub­continental scale in India until the mid-1830s. Consequently, a moreconvincing body of evidence collected on an all-India basis was stillrequired, as well as a theoretical basis for adjudging the likely conse­quences ofdeforestation. When awidely accepted analysisofthe possibledangers ofdeforestation did finally emerge in the 1830s, it was ba~{:d onthe coincidence of several scientific and political factors. The~ostpotent was the linkage of the concept that deforestation would {auseserious streamflow and rainfall changes with a political awareness ~! the

101 R. Martin, The sanitarycondition ofCalcutta (Calcutta, 1836).

102 S,ee disc~ssion of Martin's campaigns in D.G. Crawford, A history ofthe IndianMed,calServlce (London, 1914), vol. 2, ch. 2. Furthermedico-topographical reponswerecompiled for Dacca (1840), Kumaon (1840), jessore (1837) Assam (1837) d S(1839). ' , an ora

103 D. Butter, Outlinesofthe topography and statistics ofthesouthern districts ofOudh andthe CantonmentofSultanpur, Oudh (Benares, 1839).

104 See es?ec~a1lr~.B: Boussingault, 'Memoir concerning the effect which the clearing oflan~ has I~ diminishing the quantity ofwater in the streams ofa district', EdinburghNewPhlloso?hlcal Journal 24 (1838), pp. 88-106; and passages in Humboldt's Personalnarrattueoftravels totheequinoctialregionsoftheNew Continent1799-1804. t H MWilliams (London, 1838), vol. 4, pp. 134-139. ,rans. . .

71Conserving Eden

occurrence offamine in the late 1830s throughout India. But there wereother contributory developments. By the mid-1830s, the medical servicebe~ame incre~ingly. concern~d about the rise in the frequency ofeplso~es o.fserious disease taking place in the rapidly expanding cities,especially In Calcutta, the political capital, in part because ofan increas­ing medical interest in epidemiology and the connections between watersupply and disease transmission, an interest articulated rather earlier inIndia than Britain.

Anxieties about the state's responsibility in this field were increas­ingly raised in moral and practical terms. In 1836 Surgeon RanaldMartin produced a pioneering report (which considerably preceded thecomparable efforts ofEdwin Chadwick in Britain) on the need for publichealth measures and the universal provision ofclean water in Calcutta. 101 .

He further proposed the production of a whole series of medico­topographical reports on India by the medical service.102

In this way the ambit of urban public health concern becamemuch ~orewidespread to embrace the whole rural topography ofIndia,extendIng concerns about the provision of water in cities to includevillages in region~ kn~wn to be subject to drought. In this way SurgeonDonald Butter, In hIS Topography ofAwadh, drew attention to theconnections between the growing aridity of India and that which hadtake~ p!ac~ historically elsewhere.103 Significantly, Butter relied heavilyfor hIS insights on Joseph Boussingault's translation ofAlexander vonI:Iu~boldt's work, 104 These translations had recently appeared in scien­tific Journals read widely by Sco~tish surgeons in India. After 1839

Ecology, Climate and Empire70

105 E.P. Stebbing, Thefirms ofIndia (Edinburgh, 1922), vol. 1, pp. 72-81.

106 See, forexample, J.E.Thomas, 'Noteson ryotwar or permanent money rents in S.India, andon thedutyofGovernment inperiods offamine' ,MadrasJournalofLiteratureand Science, (1838), pp. 53-78, 200-221; and Grove, Green imperialism, ch. 8. Theremainder of thischapter isbased heavily on the latter pages, which should be referredto for more detailed primary sources.

Humboldt's arguments linking deforestation, increasing aridity, andtemperature change on a global scale were widely quoted by the medicalservice in India in its increasingly determined effo~ts to elicit governmentcontrols on deforestation and as part of awider campaign for publichealth reforms. Furthermore, the publication ofthe medico-topographi­cal reports sponsored by Martin and the Calcutta authorities coincided

with the appearance of another set oElay reports which were, by 1839,causing anxiety to the Presidency governments, particularly to theBombay government. !Os

These reports, which were received from Collectors throughoutSouthern India, indicated very rapid rates ofdeforestation since the early1820s. Initially the Presidency governments, heeding the advice of theRevenue services, which stood to gain from agricultural clearance morethan forest conservation, had ignored such warnings, particularly thoseof the early 1830s which had originated principally with the Rajah ofNilumbur in Malabar. The famines of 1838-39 finally put paid to thisattitude, and government officials began to worry about the socialinstability which might result from famines exacerbated by deforesta­tion. This fear was only distantly related to much less pervasive concernsabout possible timber shortages. lOG During the 1840s, such concernswere considerably sharpened by a spreading awareness of the severity ofIreland's famine. Faced by this situation, the governments of theBombay and Madras Presidencies began quite deliberat~ to seekrelevant technical expertise, giving Company surgeons the o~brtunity

to put themselves forward as expert technical arbiters, a role,~at somesurgeons readily accepted. :

In the Bombay Presidency, Dr. Alexander Gibson had alreadylobbied the government extensively on the subject of deforestation. InMadras, Assistant Surgeon Edward Balfour had also started, by 1839, totry to persuade the authorities, on his own initiative, of the need for

73Conserving Eden

the Deccan is more bare than Guzerat and the clefts of the Gh t. h a

mountains are t e only situation where trees are to be found in anquantityand even theyaredisappearingfast under the increaseddemandfor land for spade husbandry ... they are too steep for the plough. It isa matter ofregret for the naturalist [sic],perhaps alsofor the economistthat the woods are in such rapid progress ofdestruction. 109 '

. T~gether with two other surgeons, Hugh Cleghorn (stationed atShlmoga In M ysore) and Edward Balfour (stationed at Madras), Gibsonw~s able to systematically propJgandise a forest conservation programmeWith the government. He backed it up consistently with the threat of

I

conservarion.P? However, Gibson's thinking initially carried the m t

wei.ght, prin~ipally .because he had already acquired a high reputati:~while a VaccI~ator In Khandeish during the 1830slO8 Furthermore, hehad. even received gold medals from the Company in recognition ofhisachievements in pharmacological and epidemiological research. In 1838Gibsonwas appoint.e~Superintendenrofrhe Botanic Garden at Dapoorie,near ~oona, a posinon carrymg an equivalent weight to the post ofSupenntendent of the Calcutta Botanic Garden. This appointment

meant that h~ became the obvious source of expertise for the Bombaygovernment In 1839 on forest matters. During a series of subsequent~overn~ent-s~onsored tours through the Presidency, Gibson grewincreasingly disturbed by the full extent ofdeforestation, particularly on

the slopes of the Western Ghats. In March 1841, for example, he wroteto Joseph Hooker that

107 E.~. Balf~ur, '~otes on the i~fluence exercised by trees in inducing rain and.preservmg morsrure, MadrasJournalofLiteratureand Science, 25 (1849), pp. 402-408.S~e also IOL V/27/560/107 for details of the correspondence between Balfour andGibson.

108 See Anon., 'Obituary of A1e~ander Gibson', Proceedings of the Linnaean Society,(1867), p. 33. Seealso entryon Gibson in Crawford, Rollofthe Indian MedicalService.

109 Letter, Alexander Gibson toJ.D. Hooker, dt 1 March 1841, Letter no. 21, India~etters, Kew Archives, Richmond, Surrey. This correspondence records thefirst directmvo.lve~ent ofHoo~er in thetropical deforestation issue, arole subsequentlyreinforced~yhls visrts to~censlOn Island andSt.Helena in 1843, andIndiain 1847-50. Hooker's~Imultaneous I~volve~ent inearlyconservation in theCapeColonyisoutlined inGrove,Early Themes mMncan Conservation', pp. 22-34.

Ecology, Climateand Empire72

ILLI

lL

l

110 'Timber Monopoly in Malabar and Canara', entrydt 26 November 1822, in MinutesofSir Thomas Munro, (Bombay: Government Printer, 1881), pp. 178-187.

famine and constantly inferred that the responsibility for future famineswould be laid directly at the door of government, were it not to

implement the conservationist prescriptio~s.~l.lt.forward b~ the medicalservice. The political dynamics ofthe transrnon In the relations betweenscientists and colonial government which took place in India betweenabout 1838 and 1847 (the latter being the date of the formal establish­ment of the Bombay Forest Department under the Conservatorship ofGibson) were complex. In practical terms and underlying the scenario ofcataclysmic climatic change which the surgeons put forward, a funda­mental debate opened up. In essence, this debate concerned the pr~per

role ofthe state in environmental control and the extent ofthe legal rightofgovernment to assert control over forest tracts and the c~tting of~~akforest. The fact that state controls might pose a potentially decIs~ve

barrier to the activities ofventure capital in the timber market, for whichthe state itself was the largest customer, was only admitted at a later date.

In 1824 the state had definitively abnegated pre-colonial stateforest controls on the basis ofa private rights and laissez-faire orthodoxyfavoured by Thomas Munro as Governor ofBo~bay.l1OMte~ ~837 theCompany authorities changed course and sought Instead to legltlmat~anincreased degree of government intervention in forest control, argulOgrepeatedly that this new policy was supported by the powers sup~osedly

exercised by pre-colonial Indian states over the forests of the PresIdenc~.

Alexander Gibson seemingly was largely r~s~onsible for the for~.:l,.0.. f thisinitiative. He certainly foresaw the OpposItIOn to government ~rttrolsfrom the new generation of largely indigenous forest lando",:,~vs andfrom the European interests benefiting from the lack ofregulation ofthetimber trade between 1824 and 1838. The whole question of the statusof forests as a common property resource also became a matter ofdiscussion and legal debate. Consideration of this problem was stimu­lated by the developing conflict between the new environmental anxie­ties ofthe Company and the forest claims ofthe private lando",:,ners. TheBombay government, now increasingly reliant on the advice of t~e

medical service and on that of Gibson in particular, moved steadilytowards a solution involving the formal alienation offorests to Company

III Richard Tucker, 'Forest management and Imperial politics, Thana District, Bombay',Indian Economic and SocialHistory Review, 16 (1979), p. 27.

112 This incident was recounted by Gibson in the Bombay Forest Report, 1856 (Bombay:Government Printer), p. 13, par. 78.

113 Stebbing, Forests ofIndia, p. 120.

75Conserving Eden

reserves and the progressive exclusion of private capital and shiftingcultivation from the whole forest sector. This course of action soonbrought Bombay into direct conflict with the wishes of the SupremeGovernment in Calcutta, which still favoured the protection ofthe rightsof private landowners at all costs. Both sides tended to ignore thecritically important needs of peasant users of the forest. They became apolitical football between government and commercial timber interests,especially in the neighbourhood of Bombay and later formed a core ofpopular resistance to British rule.!" Although Gibson himselfwas wellaware of the danger of alienating customary rights, his advocacy ofpeasant needs (specifically involving the setting aside ofvillage forests)did not outlast his own personal influence with government or theimposition ofthe notoriously unjust ForestAct of1878. Indeed the newConservator's own fears about the likely social consequences ofrestrict­ing customary access to forests were vividly fulfilled in 1851 when henarrowly escaped death at the hands ofa crowd ofangry forest residentsin Thana protesting the imposition ofnew forest regulations. I 12

Between 1840 and 1846 the authorities in Calcutta continued tobe most reluctant about funding the establishment ofa formalised forestconservancy. They foresaw, quite correctly from hindsight, that such anestablishment would imply a severe reduction in large short-term rev­enue income in favour of high expenditure on long-term andunquantifiable conservationist benefits. Gibson set himself the task ofbreaking this bureaucratic procrastination at the highest level ofgovern­men t by demonstrating that the penalty for further neglect of the forestscould not be afforded politically or economically. Initially he attemptedto do this by emphasising the difficulties that deforestation was causingin supplying firewood for residents in urban areas. At one stage Gibsonreported that in the city ofMangalore, 'firewood, formerly so abundant,is now one of the chief items ofexpense to the poorer classes ofpeopleand is a deprivation severely felt by them'. 113 He had previously argued,

Ecology, Climate and Empire74

in 1843, that 'a careful examination of forests would disclose otherproductions ofvalue ... from a scientific point ofview.'114 Although theBombay government was very ready to aFCept these ideas and wasespeciallyconcerned about the firewood problem, none ofthe argumentswere found convincing in Calcutta, where the Supreme Governmentcontinued to refuse to consider the cost of running a formal Conserv­ancy.115 Significantly, arguments for conservation based either on localneeds or long-term biological potential still proved to be politicallyineffective in India itself in 1846.

At this juncture Gibson decided, as a last resort, to use the'climatic threat' as an argument, not with the apparently hopelesslyintractable Calcutta authorities but with the EIC Court of Directorsitself. He was encouraged in this by a series of letters from Indiancorrespondents, including one in February 1846 from Mahabaleshwar,which stated the 'common belief that with the removal of wood, thesmall streams ... had dried up'.u6 Gibson was inclined to take theenvironmental knowledge ofthe indigenous population of the WesternGhats far more seriously than most non-medical officials. Thus theMahabaleshwar letter ofFebruary 1846 made up his mind. By March 6,1846, only a few days after receiving the letter, Gibson finished compil­ing a manuscript report on the destruction of forests in the Konkan inwhich he specifically mentioned the climatic and economic conse­quences ofdeforestation. 'A change ofclimate,' he wrote, 'is by~? meanslimited to the mere district in which clearing has taken plac~'but itsinfluence extends far inland.' Deforestation in the Ghats, in the h~dwardsof rivers watering the fertile western coastal lowlands of the Presidency,would, Gibson felt, be clearlyaffected by such changes. Significantly, theCompany attached a great importance to these regions at the timebecause of their extensive cotton growing projects. The potentiallyformidable indirect disadvantages ofdeforestation were therefore unmis­takable. Gibson sent the finished report, dated 6 March 1846, directlyto the Court ofDirectors in London in the form ofaletter, thus bypassingthe Bombay and Calcutta authorities altogether. He then used material

cont~ined .within the report as the basis for a short but prominent paperp~bltshedI~ the Tran:actiom o/theBombayMedicalandPhysicalSociety,a Journal WIth a considerable professional readership among officials inthe medical service and in civil positions throughout India. 117

The political significance of these unilateral actions cannot havebeen lost among officials in government circles in Calcutta. Gibson hadappealed over the heads of both the Bombay authorities, more particu­larly the Government ofIndia, directly to the Court ofDirectors on theone hand and the Indian scientific community on the other. This was anindicator, ifone were needed, of the political weight which Gibson nowfelt that his professional scientific status conferred on him. Even so, theaction was a gamble. However, it quickly paid offby forcing the decisiveintervention of the Court, which compelled the Supreme Governmentin Calcutta to take serious heed ofthe advice ofthis new scientific service.~oreo:er, Gibso~ had backed the gamble by documenting his findingsIn detail amonghIS own medical peers, in the specificallyscientific forumof ~ medical journal. The Company was compelled before long tocapitulate to the power of the medical lobby. Thus on 17 December1846, the Government of India authorised 'the employment of anesta~lishment for the management of the forests under the BombayPresidency, at a monthly charge of 295 Rupees.' This enabled theBombay Government, on 22 March 1847, to appoint Gibson asConservator ofForests, in addition to his duties as Superintendent oftheDapoorie Botanic Garden, and authorised him to 'entertain the estab­lis~mentwhichhad been sancti?ned by the Government ofBombay,' forwhich he had long campaigned. However, the conversion of the EastIndia Company authorities td the utility of the conservationist caseactually went much further. A few months later. in July 1847, the CourtofDirectors issued a remarkable Despatch indicating an unprecedented~fficial aw~reness of the global threat apparently posed by artificiallyInduced climatic change. 'The subject', the Despatch argued,

is one having a strong practical bearing on the welfare of mankind andwe are anxious to obtain extensive and accurate information in regard to

76 Ecology, Climateand Empire Comerving Eden 77

114 Ibid., 111.

115 Ibid., 118.

116 MS Letter, written to Gibson from Mahabaleshwar (IOL VI27/560/107).1I7 A. Gibson, 'Report on Deforestation in South Conkan', Tramactiom oftheBombayMedicaland Physical Society, 37 (1846), pp. 11-22.

118 Despatch no. 21, Coun of Directors, EIC, to Government ofIndia, dt 7July, 1847,quotedinBalfour papers, V1271560/1 07.Azimghurwas adistrictmentionedspecificallybyDonaldButterinhisTopographyofAwadh. The Coutthadclearlyreferred to thework.119 For a fuller outlineof the philosophy involved, seeA. Gibson, 'A descriprion of thesystem adoptedfor theforest conservancy of theBombay Presidency', inA. Gibson,ed.,A handbook totheforests oftheBombay Presidency (Byculla: Government Printer,1863),pp.53-114.

By 1847, then, the supremacy of the medical service in its hold

over government environmental policy had become well-established andwas further institutionalised in Gibson's Superintendency of the Bom­

bay Forest Department. This department was formed with the prime

aim, not of securing a steady supply of timber (though this was still apressing concern), but of inhibiting the whole range of environmentaland social consequences which deforestation might cause. 119The fear of

these consequences, especially the fear of widespread climatic change,forced the colonial state to comply with a conservationist prescription.Although these environmental considerations were soon supplementedby other political and commercial claims, especially after the end ofCompany rule in 1857, the Hippocratic and Humboldtian basis to theconservationism of the surgeons remained a decisive factor in theevolution ofcolonial forest policy in India and elsewhere. Ifone seeks a

particular historical turning point in the policies ofthe Company in this

respect, the period from 1847 to 1850 is the most critical. ~..

The decisive turning point was probably reached when t~CourtofDirectors, as we have seen, followed up Gibson's report on thelIonkan

by circularising a Despatch intended to try to establish direct evidence of

deforestation and rainfall change. The process culminated in January

1850 with a remarkable statement by Lord Dalhousie, made to the Agri-

Horticultural Society of India at Lahore. 'During the last season', hewrote,

79Conserving Eden

I have traversed the plains of the Punjab .... There is one characteristicof the wide tract which could not fail to strike the least observanttraveller.... I refer to the almost total absence offorest trees and ofevenfru.it trees ~nd. o~ bushes leaving the whole territory unadorned by thefoliage which IS Its natural cover, nor stocked with timber requisite fora t~o~sand p~rposes in the everydaylife ofthe people who dwell in it. ..This IS a mamfest and will shortly be felt to be an increasing evil unlesssome measures are taken to provide at present a remedy for the future ...the Government should provide some means to that end and shouldbring them into operation without delay.... I feel strongly the urgentduty of endeavouring to give this country the clothing of forest treesfrom my knowledge of the well ascertained and beneficial effect whichtrees produce on the health and fertility of the tracts in which they arefound. No power has been more clearlyestablished than this salubriousand fertilising effect of foliage in an Indian climate. It has been thesubject. of much enquiry and demonstrated in every report submittedfrom different parts of India, many of which have passed through myhands,.and one ofwhich I forwarded to the local government in Punjabso~e time ago.... None of us can live to see the complete result of thatwhich we now propose to commence. Few of us will gather the fruitwhere n~,: we plant. But if we succeed in framing this design andad:ance.1t III some deg~ee towards completion, we may at least enjoy thesatisfaction of the feeling that we shall leave behind us an heritage forwhich posterity will be grateful. 120

This statement, an especially ~evealing one for Dalhousie to make

highlighted the revolution in official perceptions that had occurred as a

consequence of the medical service's determined lobbying. Indeed the

Lahore memorandum represented, effectively, an unprecedented mani­festo for forest protection and sustainable development. The notion of

a monolithic state forest sectorwas clearlyone that appealed to Dalhousie's

undoubted interventionist and utilitarian ambitions. However, neither

this nor the desire for a sustainable timber supply can account for the

12D'M' b thInut~ y emostnobletheLordDalhousie', readto theAgri-Horriculturai Society

oftheP~Jab on 20 F~bruary 1851,reproduced in G. Henderson, ed.,Selectpapers oftheAgroHortzcultura/ SOCiety ofthePunjab(Lahore: Lahore United Press, 1868).

Ecology, Climate and Empire

it. We desire, therefore, that you will furnish us with any you maypossess, and that you will institute inquiries in such quarters as may belikely to lead to the acquisition of particular facts' bearing upon thequestion. It has been suggested that the circumstances of the district ofAzimghur afford some illustration of the subject and we shall be glad to,receivea correct report ofany facts relating either to that district or otherswhich may be calculated to throw light upon the subject of ourenquiry.!" '

78

121 For detailed references to the correspondence on forest conservation carried onbetween Dalhousie and Hooker, see L. Huxley, The life and letters ofSirJoseph DaltonHooke (London: John Murray, 1918), vol. 1.

fundamental change in Company forest policy continued underDalhousie. Indeed, the toots of the Governor-General's own interest inthe forest question lie in his own very personal relationship with theincreasingly powerful scientific, especially botanical, lobby.

As early as 1847 Dalhousie had come firmly under the influenceofJoseph D. Hooker, who both accompanied him in his entourage onarriving in India in 1847 and constantly plied the Governor-Generalwith letters on the subject of forest conservation.F! Hooker's mainconcern in India was to conduct a series of botanical surveys in theHimalayas. Forest conservation was an important secondary interest. Hehad, however, been firmly convinced since 1842 ofa direct relationshipbetween forest cover and raipfall incidence, mainly through his fieldobservations on St Helena and through his studies ofthe beneficial effectof Governor Alexander Beatson's plantations on the island hydrology.Hooker firmly believed, therefore, that afforestation and increased

rainfall were closely linked. By 1850 Dalhousie had also become demon­

strably convinced of the same phenomena, both through Hooker'sinfluence and by reading reports submitted by Edward Balfour and hiscolleagues in the Madras government. Both in this respect, as well as inhis voluminous correspondence with members of the medical service inIndia, Hooker had performed a decisive and persuasive part.

Despite the significance ofthe interaction between Dalhousie andJoseph Hooker, a distinctive model of colonial forest conservancgjiad,in fact, already been developed in Sind. This model was based fir~'on

an indigenous system, from which the installed colonial forestry s~tem

differed little in detail. Indeed the annexation of Sind by Sir CharlesNapier had first provided an opportunity to set up an embryonic forestadministration based directly upon the infrastructure of shikargarhs(forest and game r~serves), which had been steadily built up along theIndus Valley by the Amirs ofSind since the 1750s. The shikargarhs werevery extensive and served a multiplicity of state needs, including thewidespread provision of a supply of firewood, for which the peasantpopulation were required to pay heavily. The indigenous development

122 Sind File,.<Political201), Napier to Lord Ellenborough, 29 May 1843, EllenboroughPapers, Public Record Office, Kew. For details of the pre-colonial forest system ofSindan~ its later adaptation, see W. Scott, Reporton the managementofcanals andforests inSeinde (Bombay: Government Printer, 1853).

123 Accounts ofpre-colonial evictions and fue/wood fees are in E.B. Easrwick, Dry leavesfrom young Egypt (London, 1849), p. 24; and in J. Outram, The ConquestofScinde: acommentary (Edinburgh: Blackwood, 1846).

124 I. Burkill, Chapters in the historyofbotanyin India, p. 155.

81Conserving Eden

~f t.he shikargarhs in Sind and their influence on later colonial policyindicate that conventional historical interpretations of the primacy ofEuropean colonial rule in environmental control and conservation needto .be ~arefully re-exami~ed, particularly in the context ofcontemporarythmking about the erosion offorests as pre-colonial common property.Thus the precolonial Sind forest system, like many others in India by themid-eighteenth century, was by no means amenable to traditions ofcommunity or village use. Forestry was a subject which much interestedNapier, and he had recommended the immediate assignment of anofficer 'with some knowledge offorestry' to gain as much information aspossible about the system developed by the Amirs. 122 The Amirs had, infact, frequently carried out widespread village removals to make space fortheir forest reserves and to curtail access for grazing and fuel collection.Mter the annexation ofSind, these measures were deliberately relaxed byNapier to elicit a degree ofpopular support for the new government. 123

Alongside these examples of both indigenous and scientificallyreasoned strategies for forest protection, Dalhousie was soon provided

with the expert advice ofanother member ofthe medical service, SurgeonJohn McClelland, an ardent enthusiast of natural history and an advo­cat~ofrare plant preservation, in a surveyofforests in Burma. This survey

served as a further stimulus for action by the Governor-General, sinceMcClelland specifically advised a rigorous system ofstate control to savethe rapidly disintegrating forests Iof Pegu from private timber mer­chants. 124

I

Although the formal structure ofan all-India Forest Departmentwas. organised in 1865 specifically to exclude the activities of privatecapital from the forests, the colonial environmental debate, in whichstate forestry originated had already been going on in Southern India for

Ecology, Climate and Empire80

125 Both of the new Presidency's Forestry Departments were run according to manage­ment methods based on the Sindhi, French, and Scottish models with which theirmedical founders were familiar. Additionally, Hugh Cleghorn was particularly interestedin the history ofVenetian attempts to control deforestation and soil erosion. In contrastthe introduction of German forestry concepts constituted a much later development, andit was not until after 1878 that they were widely applied in India.

126 The appointment was made jointly with Dietrich Brandis, a German botanist.

127 Anaccount ofCleghorn's activities in the early yearsof the Madras Forest Departmentis in H. Cleghorn's Theforest» and gardens ofSo11th India (Edinburgh, 1861).

128 Cleghorn, in 'Discussion', following on the presentation of a paper by George Bidie,'On the effects of forest destruction in Coorg', Proceedings of the RoyalGeographicalSociety, 1869, pp. 74-75.

three decades, was dominated by the conservationist thinking of thesurgeons appointed to superintend the first two Presidency Conservan­cies in Bombay and Madras. The Madras Forest Department, estab­lished in 1856, was headed by Surgeon Hugh Cleghorn, who had earlieragitated with Alexander Gibson for conservation measures to be takenduring the 1840s. 125

Cleghorn, later made first Inspector-General of Forests in-In­dia, 126 was, like Gibson, primarily a botanist and even an early environ­mental historiari.!" Openly hostile to the kinds of development whichpromoted forest destruction, he campaigned against many of the con­temporary plans for railway.development in Southern India. In 1866 healso spoke out directly against the uncontrolled entry of plantationcapital into the Nilgiris and Coorg, consistently claiming that theactivities ofEuropean planters were far more destructive than the long­established shifting koomri cultivators.!" These kinds of opinions, notuncommon with some of the Scottish surgeons of the time, are markedby their anti-English flavour. Indeed, there are strong reasons forunderstanding the Scottish medical enthusiasm for protecting forests notonly as a consequence of their enthusiasm for scientific natural historybut asa surrogate for a far more direct kind ofcritique ofEnglish attitudesto India and even of English attitudes towards the Scots at home. Thepublic basisofCleghorn'senvironmentalism, however, was based prima­rily on a fear of the climatic and physical effects of tropical deforestaf~51ll

as part ofa wider global problem. These fears are articulated both iIi;"j'ris

83Conserving Eden

Hugh Francis Cleghorn(Published bypermission ofthe Cleghorn-Sprottfamily)

Ecology, Climate and Empire82

84 Ecology, Climateand Empire Comerving Eden 85

report to the BritishAssociation for the Advancement ofScience in 1851,which was probably the first report in a scientific forum to warn ofenvironmental degradation on a global scale.and irihis later books andarticles on the development of tropical forest protection129

Conclusion

An examination of the motivations underlying the emergence of envi­ronmentalism and conservation policies in the colonial context points toa heterodox legacy of Utopian, Physiocratic, and Hippocratic philo­sophical elements represented in the discourses ofan influential minorityofscientists. These men were distinctively empowered by virtue of thehigh status assigned to scie~ce by the colonial state, and their environ­mental preoccupations were closely connected to a variety ofagendas ofsocial reform. In surveying the whole colonial context of conservationone needs to ask exactlywhy the colonial state was prepared to accept thehighly unorthodox prescriptions ofthe early conservation lobbyists and,in particular, to accept their view of the need to subjugate short-termeconomic benefits to nebulous long-term interests. To date, mostaccounts of the early history ofcolonial forestry have explained colonialconservationism as a rationalisation for intensifying the direct exploita­tion oferstwhile 'common property resources' to serve the needs of thecolonial state and the metropole. As we have seen, such explanatrens cannow be perceived as insufficient. Much of the early colonial c~rva­tionism was, in fact, directly related to a growing awareness that ~esternprocesses for economic development were inherently destructiv~ to theenvironment. It also becomes appropriate to re-emphasise the politicalsignificance of the basic insecurity of the early colonial state faced withthe risks of a little-understood tropical environment. The ecological

129 H. Cleghorn, F. Royle, R. Baird-Smith and R. Strachey, 'Report of the committeeappointed by the British Association to investigate the probable effects in an economicand physical point of view of the destruction of tropical forests', Reportofthe BritishAssociationfOr theAdvancementofScience, 1852, pp. 78-102. Seealso H. Cleghorn, 'Onthe distribution of the principal timber trees of India, and the progress of forestconservancy', Reportofthe BritishAssociation fOr theAdvancementofScience, 1868, pp.91-94.

changes brought about by the forces ofwestern capitalist developmentapparently threatened the very existence ofthe state itself. Faced by thethreatof~amine and social unrest, the state became qui tewilling to acceptthose radical environmental prescriptions for survival proffered by thepioneering generation ofscientific experts whom it had already learnedto respect in specifically medical circumstances. This may help us toexplain how conservation as a state response to ecological crisis emergedfirst at an economic periphery rather than at the metropolitan centre. Itwa~, in fact, precisel~ ~h~ insecurity ofthe state at the colonial peripherywhich allowed a SenSItIVIty to the dangers ofecological change to developso pr~cociously. In writing environmental history and in reconstructingthe history of environmentalism we will need, perhaps, to pay moreattention in the future to the fundamentally innovative role of thecolonial periphery in terms ofits relations with the metropolitan centre.Such.a priority, largely dismissed by historians hitherto, would requirea radical re-assessment both of the history of conservation and of thestate's role in the development ofwestern environmental concern.

3 See R.H. Grove, 'Scotland and South Mrica: John Croumbie Brown and the originsof s~ttler envir~nm~ntalism',in L. Robin and T. Griffiths, eds, Ecology and Empire(EdJnburg~ University Press:1997). A usefulshort biography ofBrown isP.J Venter, 'Anearly.botanlst and conservationist at the Cape, the Rev.J.e. Brown. LID, FRGS, PIS,Arcbiues Yearbook ofSouthAfricanHistory, 1951.

of a coincidence between changing precepts in western science and acol~nial crisis, triggered initially by drought. These ideas developed

against the background ofa pre-existing and precocious awareness ofthespeed of environmental change in the Cape Colony in the works oftravell~rs and missionaries in the late eighteenth and early nineteenthcenturies. The relative sophistication of the ideology of state conserva­tionism as it developed after 1843 in the Cape was related to the spreadofa new idea, that the environment and man were threatened by climaticchange operating on a continental scale. Environmental risk, the argu­ment of the experts ran, was being exacerbated by the activities ofman.Such a threat had not been put forward in a 'scientific' form before. Thusthe threat ofa climatic denouement, more familiar today, explains at leastpart of the enthusiasm with which the state took on conservation ideas.To understand this development it is necessary to appreciate both themanner in which the threat of climatic change made itself felt in thescientific mind and, secondly, the way in which the priorities of thecolonial state became connected to the prescriptions ofscience.

A critical factor promoting the development of ideas aboutconservation in Southern Africa during the nineteenth century was thework of Dr John Croumbie Brown, initially a missionary and subse­quently a university teacher, botanist, state scientist and propagandist ofconservation." It is the coincidence in time between his personal intellec­tual crisis and the crisis in which the state found itse1fwhichis ofconcernhere. T~e broad-based conservati~mistmessage which Brown espoused:vas rapidly ~pp.ropriatedto suit t~e priorities ofthe colonial state, partlyIn order to JUStify the blaming ofAfricans for the environmental ills ofsouthern Africa, partly to legitimate powerful new instruments ofdiscriminatory land use control. The adaptation for state purposes oftheenvironmental evangelism of Brown and his missionary predecessor,Robert Moffat, far outlasted their own lifetimes. For example, many ofthe struggles over the management ofthe first national park in SouthernRhodesia, in the Matopo Hills, can be attributed directly to the influenceexercised by Brown's scientific disciples. As experts brought in asconsultants from the Cape their ideology offorest reserve administration

3

Scottish Missionaries, EvangelicalDiscourses and the Origins of

Conservation Thinking in SouthernMrica, 1820-1900

,Current research is beginning to show that the origins ofstate conserva-tionism in the southern African region date back to the late seventeenthcentury and that early conservation laws were directed, in the main,towards controlling the effects ofsettler agriculture. It is also becomingclear that the reasoning behind such policies derived from an emergingbeliefin the existence ofdynamic links between deforestation and rainfalldecline. Active promotion of state conservation in the colonial settingemerged initially on small island colonies where the finite limitations ofexploitable resources was particularly easy to observe. By the mid­eighteenth century the promotion of conservation practices by theBritish and French colonial states was well developed, on St Helena andMauritius in particular. I It was not until about the second decad~thenineteenth century, however, that environmental theories nurt~ed inisland contexts started to have an impact in continental situation£: Thischapter sets out to examine the conditions under which colonial states insouthern Africa evolved an interest in conservation and to probe therespective motivations of scientists and the state in adopting conserva­tionist ideas.f

In essence, it is argued here, conservationism in the Cape arose out

I See R.H. Grove, Green imperialism: colonial expansion, tropical islandEdens and theorigins ofenvironmentalism, 1600-1800 (Cambridge, 1995).

2 For an earlier survey see R.H. Grove, 'Early themes in African conservation; the Capein the nineteenth century', in D. Anderson and R. Grove, eds, Conservation in Africa:people, policies andpractice (Cambridge, 1987), pp. 22-39.

Scottish Missionaries in SouthernAfrica 87

&

4 For details of Southern African drought chronologies see S.E. Nicholson. 'A climaticchronology for Africa: a synthesis of geological. historical and meteorological data'(Ph.D. thesis, University of Wisconsin, 1976), pp. 282-288. For a discussion of theimpact of drought see C. Ballard, 'Drought and economic distress:South Mrica in the1800s', Journal of Interdisciplinary History, XVII. (1986), pp. 359-378; also S ENicholson, 'The historical climatology ofAfrica', in T.M. Wigley et al., eds, Climateandhistory: studies inpastclimatesand theirimpactonman (London, 1981), pp. 257-259. The1820-1823 drought in the Eastern Cape and Transkei iswelldocumented in C. Butler,ed., The1820 Settlers: an illustratedcommentary (Cape Town, 1983), pp. 81-84; seealsoJ.Guy, 'Ecological factors in the tise of Shaka and the Zulu kingdom', in S. Marks andA. Atmore (eds), Economy and society in pre-industrialSouthAfrica (London, 1980), p.102.

owed its central legitimation to the writings of-Brown and was easilyadapted to the priorities ofmore modern conservationist ideologies thathad originated outside Africa, Through his very. wide network ofscientific contacts and through his prolific output ofpublications Brownstimulated the emergence ofconservationist movements and state poli­cies in colonies as far apart as Nyasaland and Victoria, Australia, as wellas bringing about the first moves towards a centralised imperial interestin environmental problems.

In 1821-3, 1845-7 and 1862-3 serious droughts affected thewhole of Southern Africa. They devastated the economies of bothindigenousAfrican and colonial societies and brought about long-lastingsocial changes, which remain to be investigated in detail. 4 The droughtsalso stimulated the emergence ofsignificant new ways in which colonialscientists and intellectuals began to interpret relationships betweenenvironmental change and human activity. They assigned blame forecological degradation and sought, for the first time, to introduceconservation measures intended to inhibit artificially induced climaticchange. The most important feature of the European scientific responseto drought episodes in Southern Mrica after 1820 was the emergence ofa 'desiccationist' theory linking the removal of vegetations to rainfalldecline and then to regional or global climatic desiccation.

Before the droughts of 1820-3, the inherent vulnerability of theCape region to the effects of colonial agriculture in comparisw withmore resilient tropical or temperate environments had beconW"well­kno.wn. Un~er Dutch ~ul~ the Cape Colony i~selfhad already ~comesubject to highly restrictrve land-use regulations and early forms of

5 T.R. Sim, ThefOrests andfOrestflora ofthe CapeColony (Cape Town, 1907), pp. 76­79.

6 The early environmental critiques of European land-use methods by c.P. Thunberg,Andrew Sparrman and H. Lichtenstein are reported in T.D. Hall, 'South Mricanpastures: retrospective and perspective', SouthAfricanJournalofScience, XXXI (1934),pp.59-97.

7 Grove, Green imperialism, ch. 3.

8 In, especially,J.e. Brown, Reportofthecolonial botanistfOr 1863 (Cape Town, 1864),and].C. Brown, Hydrology ofSouthAftica (London, 1875), p. 104.

89Scottish Missionaries in Southern Africa

conservation and forest laws, while the details of environmental degra­dation had been extensively commented upon.l Ichad been recognisedthat European agricultural methods were specifically responsible fordeterioration in soils and pastures and the destruction offorests. Particu­larly in late eighteenth century literature European land-use methodshad been criticised quite specifically and pejoratively as being far lesssuitable than indigenous practices for the conditions of the semi-aridCape." No systematic attempts appear to have been made, however, tolink rainfall decline with patterns of human activity or with deforesta­tion, even though such linkages had been made in English and Frenchisland colonies asearly as the 1670s and had had important consequencesfor innovations in colonial land-use control.7

The droughts of1820-1823, however, stimulated a new kind ofenvironmental commentary which sought both to relate man-inducedvegetation change to rainfall change and to assign blame for thesechanges to.~ricans. The most significant commentator in this respectwas the mtsstonary Robert Moffat, whose opinions are important notleast because they affected the later thinking ofJohn Croumbie Brown."A major philosophical break had developed between earlier scientificwriters on the Cape environment some ofwhom, such as Thunberg andSparrrnan, were apt to be critical of the activities ofEuropeans and thelater accounts ofevangelical missionaries such as Robert Moffat who, ingene~al, tended to deride indigeyous systems ofknowledge and land-usepracnce, There were two aspects of this evangelical mentality which arerelevant here; the dismissal (at qne level) of indigenous explanations ofenvironmental processes and a transferral ofmoral conceptions of rightand wrong, good and evil, black and white to the state of the environ­ment.

Ecology, Climate and Empire88

90 Ecology, Climate and Empire Scottish Missionaries in Southern Africa 91

Moffat arrived in the area to the north ofthe Colony among theTswana at Latakoo (Kuruman) in 1820.9 This was also the period that

the English settlers of1820 were moving in to (~rms iii theAlbany district

of the Cape as part ofLord Charles Somerset's plan to build up a whitepopulation on the eastern frontiers of the colony. 10 Much ofthis projectended in disaster, partly for ecological and climatic reasons; and Moffat'saccounts and his disappointment at the desiccated state of the lands heencountered can be seen in the light of the ecological failure of the'English' settlements further south. 11

Moffat 'was no ethnographer or social observer, zealous to relatewhat he saw and heard' ~ As his biographer observed, 'his business was to

move about with disapproval ofnakedness, theft, feasting andwitchcraft,to convince people oftheir state as sinners and "to preach the unsearchableriches ofChrist among the heathen'" .12 The missionary encountered the

Tswana at a time when the ravages ofdrought had already begun to take

effect. It was not long before he conceived their sinful state as integral tothe 'evil' he saw taking place in an environmental sense. In fact, theevidence suggests that Moffat was pre-disposed to designate the inhab­itants ofall the dry lands north of the Orange River as responsible for asituation of moral and environmental disorder.

As an inhabited country it is scarcely possible to conceive of one moredestitute and miserable; and it is impossible to traverse its extensiveplains, its rugged, undulating surface. and to descend to the bedsqfi.tswaterlessrivers,without viewing it as emphatically 'a land ofdrougls',bearing the heavy curse of .~

9 C. Northcott, RobertMoffat, pioneerin Africa, 1817-1879 (London, 1961), P: 69.

10 Somerset was responsible for initiating two pieces of ostensibly conservationistlegislation as early as 1822, one attemptingto legislate to protect large game species,(which were becoming increasingly rarein the western Cape) and anotherdesigned toprotect plant species. Both were unenforced, but give an indication of the earlyemergence of stateawareness of the speed of ecological destruction at the time; earlierattempts (in1811) byW.]. Burchell to elicitstateaction tocontrolsoilerosion nearCapeTown had beenignored. SeeGrove, 'Earlythemes in African conservation'.II For details of thisfailure seeN.C. Pollock and S.Agnew, An historicalgeography ofSouthAfrica (London, 1963), pp. 80-83.

12 Northcott,RobertMoffat, p. 7S.

'Mans first disobedience, and the fruitOf that forbidden tree, whose mortal tasteBrought death into the world, and all our woe' 13

This quotation from Milton's Paradise Lostwas an important statementsince it gives a clue to the manner in which Moffat was already equatingthe presence ofdrought with a state oforiginal sin and with the expulsionofAdam and Eve from the Garden ofEden. Itwas the guiding metaphorto the rest ofMoffat's discourse, and underlay the perceptions ofotherobservers at the time. Above all it set the scene, in the missionary's ownwriting, for a debate about drought framed in terms ofa moral economy.

The prolonged absence of rain led, inevitably, to a series ofconfrontations between Moffat and a Tswana rainmaker. These beganin October 1821. Moffat records:

Hound him with hiscompanion making rain, aswashis habit. I enquiredif it was by means of the boola, (four small piecesofhorn, sometimes ofivory, ofdifferent sizes, resembling dice, but their prognostications aredrawn more from their position than the small holes when throwndown.) He replies "Yes". I told him that I believed that he could notmake rain, or he would have made it long ago. He flatlycontradicted thisand assured me that when he had hitherto exercised his power, abun­dance of rains had fallen.14

Moffat retorted with the assertion that the rain fell amongst the Griquasto the south and also in the desert:

He said that I askedenough que1tions. I remarked that I wished to provefrom his knowledge whether h~ was indeed a rainmaker, for I had seenno marks of it asyet. He said that my God dwelt in the South, that theirGod dwelt in the north ... he looked rather stupid when I informed himthat my God ruled over all the earth. I asked him from whence the raincame and where God dwelt.15

The rainmaker confessed ignorance of the last question and Moffatinsisted:

13 R. Moffat, Missionary labours and scenes in southern Africa (London, 1842), p. 66.14 Northcott, RobertMoffat, p. 77.15 Ibid., p. 77.

16 Ibid.17 Moffat, Missionary labours, p. 327.18 Ibid., p. 329.19 Robert Moffat to Alexander Moffat, Inverkeithing 25 February 1822. NationalArchives of Zimbabwe, M/9/1/5 Doc.5/1822.

For the Tswana, drought had been brought on by the incursion of theEuropeans and their alien religion; 19 while for Moffat it had been causedby a sinful transgression or a condition of sin. For both, htc;:ver,judgements about the social causes of droughts, it transpired, relted onsimilar notions of a tradition of a previous pluvial Golden Ag~; onetransmitted orally, the other more systematised and book-learned.

In truth, Moffat was himselfconsciously looking out for evidenceofa pluvial, a Golden Age or a Flood, that might back up his notion ofan earlier Eden or a biblical flood. To his surprise and embarrassment,

it seems, he found it in Tswana oral tradition, and in his own writings the

This was not the end of the matter. Shortly after this exchange ofviewsMoffat and his companions were asked to leave the area and informedthat 'measures of a violent kind would be resorted to ... in case of ourdisobeying the order'."? This attempt at ejection seems to have beenpartly based on a fundame~tal clash between two environmental reli­gions. Eventually the missionaries were allowed to stay. Buoyed up by hissuccess in persuading the Tswana to back down Moffat took theopportunity to develop his own Credo further:

The charge brought against us by the rainmaker was by every passingcloud and blast from the torrid zone brought fresh to our minds ... andthey thought that having teachersofstrange doctrines among them suchas their forefathers never knew, the country would be burnt Up.18

93Scottish Missionaries in Southern Africa

ind~genous tradition was co-opted to an evangelical notion ofa pre-sinenvtronrnent. To bolster his own position, however, Moffat found hehad to question the Tswana interpretation of their very own tradition.

The most convenient way of doing this was to accuse the Tswana of

having a mistaken pluvial chronology; that is, to imply that their senseof time was wrong.

There was a considerable irony in this for, as one can nowconfidently state from hindsight and the benefit ofmore recent geologi­cal research, the Tswana climatic chronology was more scientificallycorrect, and Moffat's far less SO.20

'They were wont to tell us', Moffat recounted,

of the floods ofancient times, the incessant showerswhich clothed thevery rocks with verdure, and the giant trees and forests which oncestudded the Hamhana hills and neighbouring plains. They boasted ofthe Kuruman and other riverswith their impassable torrents, in whichthe hippopotami played, while the lowing herds walking to their necksin grass, filling their makukas with milk, making everyheart to sing forjoy.21

Mo~at' s attitud~ towards this particular piece oforal history was highlyambivalent, Whtle attracted by the notion ofa climatic optimum in thepast it became essential for the purpose of his own climatic tale toattribute the cessation of the pluvial to the destructive activities of theTswana and not to the arrival ofEuropeans and the arrival ofChristian­ity. The way out of the problem, he found, was to debate the issue interms of the actual physical dynamics ofrainfall decline causation. Thisrequired an excursion not into the superiority of a European God butinto the superiority ofEuropean empirical science. Aslater became clear,th.isapp~rentwillingness to shift the terms ofthe debate from religion toSCIence In fact concealed an attempt by Moffat to reconcile his ownconflicts between what was at the time becoming known about geologi­cal time-scales, especially in the works ofAlexander von Humboldt, and

20 See Nicholson, 'Climatic chronology forAfrica', pp. 285-287.

21 ~o.ffat, Missio~ary labours, p. 329.The language used herebyMoffat is startlinglyrermruscent of Isaiah,chapter 34. verses 17-21 and chapter 35, verses 1-10. The twoaccounts ofsprings andrivers intwodrylands seem to have become confused inMoffat'smind.

Ecology, Climateand Empire

I askedhim how he could pretend to make what heknew nothing about.I quoted and explained several passages from scripture bearing on thatpoint. I pointed out to him the different periods in which he had beenguilty of telling lies, that he took that honour on him which belongs toGod alone. The old man seemed to wish to close the controversy, andremarked that I had surely been long in the world. I replied that agedidnot always increasewisdom and referred him to the Book of Inspira-tion.l" .

92

r-i

94 Ecology, Climateand Empire Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica 95

the restrictions ofthe Genesis time-scale, to which Moffat, unsurprisingly,

found it hard not to adhere. 22 The situation was; moreover, one in which

superiority in the interpretation of environmental processes became a

symbol or a test of the superiority or truth ofthe Christian religion. The

sharpness of the debate over the time at which pluvial conditions had

ceased simply reflected the fact that a Genesis-based chronology of the

earth and indeed a whole belief system, was deeply threatened both by

new notions of time and by the abundant evidence present in the

Northern Cape Colony ofenvironmental changes that were difficult to

explain in a Genesis time-scale. This hel ps to explain Moffat's persistence

in questioning the Tswana time-scale.

It was in vain that we endeavoured to convince them that the dry seasonshad commenced at a period anterior to the arrival of the missionaries.Independent of this fact being handed down by their forefathers theyhad before their eyes the fragments ofmore fruitful years in the immensenumber ofstumps and roots ofenormous trunks ofAcacia giraffia whennow scarcely one is to be seen raising its stately head above the shrubs;while the sloping sides of the hills, and the ancient beds ofrivers, plainlyevinced that they were denuded of the herbage which once clothed theirsurface. Indeed the whole country north of the Orange river lying eastof the Kalagare desert presented to the eye of the European somethinglike an old neglected garden or field.23

It is striking how the terminology of the 'garden' was qui~, openly

developed." The evidence of past· higher rainfall was plain~d was

~~22 A1exandervon Humboldt's PersonalNarrativeoftrauels toequinoctialregions o/theNewContinent1733-1804 waspublished in six volumes in London in 1819, and Moffatappears to havereadthem. The relevant passages on the desiccating effects of deforesta­tion appearon pp. 134-139 of vol.4. Previous to the publicationof the Narrative thecurrencyofdesiccation theorywasfarmorelimited.Thegovernment ofThe liedeFrance(Mauritius), The EastIndia Companydirectors, and theSt Helenagovernmentwereallapprised of the theoryasearlyas 1787. W.]. Burchell, erstwhile GovernmentBotanistofSt Helena,1807-11, waspresentin the Capein 1811-1822 so thatMoffat mayhaveencountereddesiccation ideas by that intellectual route.23 Moffat,Missionary labours, pp. 329-330.

24 Moffathadactually received a formal trainingasa tropical hot-housegardenerbeforeundergoinghisevangelical tutelage with Dr WilliamRoby,whichmayhelp to accountfor the ease with whichhe usedsuch images; Northcott, RobertMoffitt, pp. 18-20.

undisputed, except in its timing, by Moffat. It remained to explain the

need ofthe pluvial in terms ofhuman causation, and in a pejorative way:

As, however, the natives never philosophised on atmospheric changes[this was a loaded untruthl] and the probable causes of the failure ofplenteous years, they were not likely to be concerned such could dependon anything done by man, even though they were credulous enough tobelieve that their own rainmakers could charm or frighten the doudsinto showers or that our faces or prayers could prevent their descend­ing ... 25

Moffat thus put forward the innate superiority ofhis 'scientific' philoso­

phising (based chieflyon Humboldt) against the much less deterministic

and cautious explanations ofthe rainmaker. While he carefully described

elaborate Tswana systems of vegetational prohibitions against tree­

cutting he schizophrenically ignored them when 'trying to convince the

more intelligent [sic] that they themselves were the active agents of

bringing about an entire change in atmosphere'. 26 In the debate between

the missionary and the Tswana over who was to blame for drought, it is

clear that one environmental theory was being tested against another

environmental theory. Both were anthropocentric in their assumptions,

although Moffat's theory was far more deterministic in its attribution of

power to man as an environmental agent. For him, the very proofofhis

power lay in a description of the destructive power of the Tswana.I

the Bechuana, especially the Batlapis and neighbouring tribes, are anation oflevellers - not reducing hills to comparative plains for the sakeof building their towns, but cutting down every species of timber [herehe contradicted his own observations ofprohibitions], withoutregard toscenery or economy ... houses are chiefly composed ofsmall timber, andtheir fences are of branches or shrubs. Thus when they fix on a site fora town, their first consideration is to be as near a thicket as possible. Thewhole is presently levelled, leaving only a few trees, one in each greatman's field, to afford shelter from the heat and under which the menwalk and recline. The ground to be occupied for cultivation is the nextobject ofattention; the large trees being too hard for iron axes they burn

25 Moffat,Missionary labours, p. 332.

26 Ibid., p. 330.

27 Ibid.,p. 331

28 Ibid., p. 331 [myemphasis].

them down by keeping a fire at the root. This supplies them withbranches for fences, as well as those in towns, which require constantrepairs, and indeed the fences must be renewed everyyear, and by thismeans the country for many miles around bec~mes entirely cleared oftimber, while in more sequesteredspots, where they have their outposts,the same work ofdestruction goes on. Thus, of whole forestswhere thegiraffe and the elephant were wont to seek their refuge during floodsnothing remains." .

From one point ofview this is an interesting and convincing descriptionof the impact of proto-urban settlements on fuelwood supplies but thefull significance of this picture of an alleged intrinsic environmentaldestructiveness on the part ofthe Tswana begins to emerge when Moffatcomes to discuss the disappearance of one particular tree species, theAcacia giraffea. The underlying concern, again, is with the precisechronology ofthe life ofthe tree, the significance ofits age and the timing

of its destruction:

When the natives remove from that district, which may be only after afew years, the minor species of the acacia soon grows but the Acaciagira.ffea requires an age to become a tree, and many agesmust passbeforethey attain the dimensions of their predecessors. The wood, when old,is dark red, rough-grained and exceedinglyhard and heavy; after beingdried for years,when thrown into water it sinks like lead. In the courseof myjourneysI havemet with trunks ofenormous sizewhich, if the timewere calculated necessary for their growth, as well as for their decay~mightbeledto conclude that theysprung up immediately aftertheJloodJ,lfnot before then.28 (~

It is the last line of this passage which is most revealing of Moffat's

inflexible and pre-conceived environmental religion. Not only were the

Tswana destructive, he considered, but they had caused permanent

damage to a tree dating back to the time of the biblical flood, and

conceivably before it. The theme, then, concerns the destroyers of thetrees in the 'neglected Garden', possibly the Garden of Eden. Thedestructiveness ofthe Tswana is thus directly equated with the transgres-

97Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica

29 Ibid., pp. 331-332.

30 C Lyell, Principles ofgeology, beingan attempt to explaintheformerchanges oftheearth'ssuiface, by reference tochanges nowin operation (3vols, London, 1834). Revised editions,anyofwhich mayhave been usedbyMoffat, were published in 1837, 1838 and 1840.

31 SeeF. Burckhardt and S. Smith, eds, The correspondence ofCharles Darwin (Cam­bridge, 1987), vol. 4, pp. xiv, xv, 44.

sion which led to the Flood and not only that, but with the continuing

transgression which has brought about the drought and the arid land­scape of divine retribution. The implication was that those who wereresponsible for such transgression could not be trusted with the'garden',

as its continued despoliation served to prove. Particular opprobrium wasattached by Moffat to the device ofveld-burning to stimulate new grassgrowth.29

It is important to observe that, while settling for traditional Old

Testament chronology, Moffat was ready to call on a relatively sophisti­

cated set of 'scientific' precedents to define the dynamics of process,

essentially, itwould seem, because theywere not definitively time-boundand thus did not threaten Genesis. While one may be confident that in1821, at the time his diary was written, Moffat was familiar with

Humboldt's account ofthe hydrological effects ofdeforestation (and the

dialogue with the rainmaker makes this clear) his posthocdiscussion ofthe subject, as it was published in 1841, indicates that he still felt the needto seek out the support of authorities published after the date ofH umboldr'sNarrative and after the date ofthe debatewith the rainmaker.

The foremost ofthese authorities was Charles Lyell's Principles ofGeologypublished in 1831. 30 The most outstanding feature of this work, (uponwhich Darwin was extremely reliant for the groundwork ofmuch ofhisthinking)," consisted in its outlining ofa vast new geological timescale,completely irreconcilable with qenesis. Nevertheless Moffat, signifi­cantly, ignored this critical aspect ofLyell'swork and instead utilised himas an authority on the mechanisms ofdesiccation subsequent to defor-estation: I

,

The felling of forests has been attended in many countries by adiminution of rain, as in Barbadoes and Jamaica. For in tropicalcountries, where the quantity of aqueous vapour in the atmosphere isgreat, but where, on the other hand, the direct raysof the sun are most

Ecology, Climate and Empire96

32 Moffat, Missionary labours, p 332. In a rarefootnote, Moffat references this text toLyell, Principles ofgeology, and 'Phil. Trans, vol ii, p. 294'. The latter (an incorrecttranscription) appears to refer to observations made in Sir Hans Sloan's estates inJamaica.33 Moffat, Missionary labours, p. 332.

powerful, any impediment to freecirculation of air, or any screenwhichshades the earth from the solar rays, becomes a source of humidity; andwhenever dampness or cold have begun to be generatedby such causes,the condensation ofvapour continues. The leave~;~moreover,ofallplantsare alembics, and some of those in the torrid zone have the remarkableproperty of distilling water, thus contributing to prevent the earth frombeing parched Up.32

Moffat comments in this connection that 'this was a philosophy which

the more acute thinkers among the people could partially comprehend,butwhich theycould not believe'.33 This was a surprising comment, sinceat the period Moffatwas describing, in 1821, he cannot himselfhave read

Lyell, so that his account of the disbelieving of 'this philosophy' by the'acute thinkers' of the Tswana is somewhat disingenuous. Moreover,Moffat felt it necessary to bolster his reliance on desiccationism (essentialto the depiction ofthe Tswana as environmental destroyers) by referringto further authorities, that is, to Lyell, and to Lyell's authorities in turn,

carefully footnoting all of them in his 1841 autobiography.It would be easy to pass offMoffat's desiccationist interpretation

of drought as being merely an intellectual weapon with which tobelabour the Tswana and their land-use methods, thereby, conceivably,to justifY their need for European Christian tutelage. There would somereason for such aview, but itwould be an over-simplification. Moffatwas

also undoubtedly faced with the possibility that the facts of cli!?aticchange, reinforced by Lyell's thesis ofa new geological timescale, (fhich

he ~ould not, in fac~, admit.to) might not. be attributable at ~ll'~ theactions ofman, notwithstanding the local evidence for tree-cutnng rn theneighbourhood of Kuruman. Admitting this possibility would in turnfacilitate the spectre of a world uncontrollable by man and subject tounpredictable and devastating drought or climate change. Time andprocess were inextricably tied up, and the accepting ofa new geologicaltimescale would have meant that ecological damage and (possibly)

34 .S~e letterfrom Moffat to Rev. G. Burder, London dt 20 January, 1824 (LondonMISSIOnary Society Archives) quotedin L. Schapera, Apprenticeship at Kuruman (Lon­don, 1951), pp 112-113; 'I realise when the proposal [to move a settlement downtowhere Moffat couldorganise irrigation for BaTswana gardens] was first madeit was~eject~d .. , butavariety ofexamples relating to valley groundandirrigation and thelateindubitable and o:erp~weri?g testi~onies ofour regard for theirwelfare hereoperatedpowerfully on then minds, influenCing themto listen to our counsel.'35 Fordetails of Brown's irrigation proposals forSouthMricaseeReports oftheColonialBotanistsfor 1863,1865,1866; andJ.C.Brown, WatersupplyofSouthAfrica, andfacilitiesfor storing it (Edinburgh, 1877), pp. 196-647.

99Scottish Missionaries in Southern Africa

ensuing drought could no longer be tied exclusively to the actions of theTswana. Above all, the test for religious superiority could no longer be

relevant. Moffat was thus hamstrung between the intellectual claims of

time, religion, and science and he might truly be said to have, in his own

terms, 'e~ten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge'! This was a predica­ment which he was not able to resolve in his own lifetime. In a morepracti~al ~ense, however, Moffat's intellectual dilemma with regard tothe asSIgnIng ofblame for ecological destruction and drought may enableone to understand his pioneering excursions into the field of artificial~rrigation and a~ri~ulturaldevelopment at Kuruman.Y Ir is tempting toInterpret the mIsslOnary enthusiasm for irrigation, (which was sharedand developed ~uch further by John Croumbie Brown)35 as an attemptto re-water a ruined garden, or to restore the rivers ofEden. In a practicalsense it certain~y represented an attempt to re-assert a human potency inthe face of evidence of the inability of man to affect environmentalprocesses; and to assert the ability of the European to control theenvironment and even reverse the impact of the forces of nature.Irrigation development may be seen, too, as an attempt to forestallextinction, fear of which undoubtedly underlaid much of the lateradvocacy ofdesiccation ideas. Ultimately drought threatened human lifein a-verybasic way. Irrigation in the contextofcolonial settlement offeredtwo further merits: it justified the paternalistic intervention of the

European in indigenous land-use and governance and encouraged thepermanent settlement of nomadid people. Other comparable kinds ofprescriptive interventionism to re~tore European control over the envi­ronment were foreshadowed in another ofMoffat's dictums.

Ecology, Climate and Empire98

100 Ecology, Climateand Empire Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica 101

I do not however, despair of eventuallyseeing the whole of the popula­tion, some of whom are now commencing the building ofstone fencesand brick houses, so fully satisfiedon this point that i:hey will find it intheir own interest, aswellascontributing to the beautyofa country, [sic]to encourage the growth of timber, particularlyas it is only such speciesas are indigenous which can grow to any extent.P'' .

Moffat did not, in fact, carry through his environmental analysisor his interventionist prescriptions beyond some minor attempts atirrigation development. However, his environmental analysis and hisearly signposting of a major conflict between science and religion(stimulated both by empirical observation and a reading of new science)are useful in outlining the ideological backdrop against which JohnCroumbie Brown worked. Al~ost certainly Moffat's relatively minorand impractical excursion into the project of assigning blame forenvironmental original sin and proposing its expiation would have beenknown to Brown when he arrived at the Cape as a missionary with theLondon Missionary Society in 1844, even though he did not quotedirectly from Moffat until the publication ofhis first report as ColonialBotanist in 1863,37

It is unclear to what extent Brown shared Moffat's notions of the

Cape and Africa as being the site ofan Eden, Garden or Promised Landrequiring spiritual and environmental redemption and intervention.Considering his career as a whole, Brown's opinions passed thro~ aseries of transitions and he was far more receptive, at one level, to'ewscientific ideas than Moffat had been. This was in large part due t~the

experience of being employed as a university teacher of Botany at theUniversity ofAberdeen between 1853 and 1862.38This was precisely theperiod at which botany as a discipline began to encounter the full forceof the revolution in conceptions ofspecies mutability. However, earlieron, at the time of his arrival in the Cape (at the age of36), Brown's

36 Moffat, Missionary labours, p 332.

37 j.C, Brown, ReportoftheColonialBotanist(Cape Town,1863);J.e. Brown, HydrologyofSouthAftica (London, 1875), p. 168.

38 Details ofBrown's employment, University Register, Diary, University ofAberdeenArchives, Kings College, Aberdeen. For either details ofhisacademic employment seeVenter, 'An early botanist', P: 282.

perceptions probably conformed more closely to an evangelical stere­otype. In 1844 rainfall levels had been high for a considerable period so

that the Cape landscape he would first have encountered was far lessstressed and drought-ridden than that encountered by Moffat. Brown

was also extremely interested in accounts of the journeys of naturalistsand missionaries into the 'interior' and one ofthe first tasks he set himselfwas to carry out the first translation into English of the diaries of T.Arbousset and F. Daumas, missionaries of the Paris Evangelical Soci­ety.39

These accounts covered journeys made in 1836-7 into andthrough the north of Basutoland. In many respects the diaries were avividly described epic journey in the French Romantic tradition ending,symbolically enough, with a series ofecstatic descriptions ofthe moun­tain which they named 'Mont-aux-Sources'. The imaginative landscapeofthe narrative, together with the very specific religious and geographicalagenda it set, undoubtedly made a great impression on Brown andpassages from it are quoted approvingly throughout his works onforestry, hydrology and conservation until the late 1880s.40

In terms of an idyllic representation of the landscape of theinterior the most important passage in Arbousset's Narrative is thatwhich describes his response to the spectacle ofMont-aux-Sources.

We never tired oflooking at the scene;everythingaround us wasgrand,magnificent and life-like, contrasting strongly with many a gloomymonotonous scenewhich had wearied the eyeon other journeys we hadtaken '" that little wood, whose refreshing green does everythingpossible to soften whatever rnay be too harsh in the outline of thelandscape, everything, in short, cdncurs to excitein the soul emotions ofinexpressibledelight. Never had weexperiencedasweeter,more ecstaticjoy than we did when, with the biblein our hands and our prayerson ourlips we turned towards the outlet from that mountain ... to gazeon thework of God and the magnificent vestment with which he had clothedcreation. Never before had the contemplation of his works excitedsuch

39 T. Arbousset and F. Daumas, Narrativeofan exploratory tour to the north-east ofthecolony ofthe Cape ofGoodHope, original MSof 1836 translated andprivately circulatedin CapeTown, 1846. Second edition published London, 1852.

40 See, for example, Brown, Watersupply ofSouthAfrica, pp. 600-605.

41 Arbousset and Daumas, Narrative, pp. 22-23.

42 The earliest writing in this colonial genre is to be found in the late seventeenth centurywritings of Francois IeGuat; seeS. Pasfield-Oliver, ThevoyageofFrancois LeGuatofBresseto Rodriguez, Java and the Cape ofGoodHope(London, 1891). The Huguenot outlookon the natural world, in common with that of the later French evangelists, wascharacterised by a willingness to locate previously mythical Edens in the reality of thenewly-'discovered' natural world.

transports ofgrateful feeling. or such deep-tried devotion; not that theLord had at any time, or in any circumstances, Jeft us without anassurance of his presence. but we have found that those scenes whichelevatethe soul. likethose which soften the hearr.rleepen the feelingthatthe Lord is near, and render magnificent to the eye, as it were, thewonders of his goodness and his power... 41

The mountains of Basutoland were described here in terms. quiteadequate for the symbolic formulation of a 'holy mountain', with theadded virtue of being associated with running water and green wood­lands of the kind that Moffat had found so sadly lacking. This Edenicvision, very close in some respects to the descriptions ofunspoilt oceanic

islands characteristic of Frepch Huguenot refugee literarure.? was

supplemented in Arbousset's account by a moral counterpartin mission­ary intervention, as one might have expected. In fact, it seems, the visionofthe 'green mountain' was set up, in narrative terms, as a counterpointto a morbid description ofthe dismal human scene which Arbousset andDaumas conspired to find in the villages north ofthe massif, at Kueningnear Thaba-bosiu. In this neighbourhood, they recorded,

there area number ofdesertedkraalsand everywhere around the groundis covered in human bones and skulls and broken pots and such likeremains. 'Look at the work of the Matabeles' said Monaile, [Arbousset'sguide] 'they kill the Bechuanasaswewould killdogs ... it iswellthat youmen of peacehavearrived in our country; but for you wewould allh~~been dead men ... this iswhat was being done with the black nation:t·Kuening both from its fertility and its agreeable situation, ~s ~dmir~~

suited for a missionary station ... it is very secure, but this IS of ht~feconsequence here. The former inhabitants will return with joy tocultivate these fertilevalleys from which war has driven them for a time.They willreturn with eagerness to localitieswhich theyhavegivennamesexpressive of the abundance in which they lived ... one of the riversthey

43 Arbousset and Daumas, quoted in Brown, Watersupply of SouthAfrica,p. 600.44 Arbousset and Daumas, Narrative, p. 62.

103Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica

have named Atan (where the cattle multiply) and another Khomokuan(where the lions are in peace)... 43

Here once again, as in Moffat, the construction consists in a lost Edenand one which may be regainedwith the help ofthewhite man, although,on this occasion, it is largely a social idyll which is being discussed. Theproject then consists in the idea that European missionary interventionis vital to restore the Tswana to their rightful land ofmilk and honey, bystepping in to end internecine conflict. Essentially the project of therestoration ofa social and environmental Eden legitimated, quite clearlyfor Arbousset and Daumas, the introduction ofa European presence anda European intervention. The climatic conditions for the Arboussetjourney, as Brown must have absorbed it in the act of translation, weretemporarily drought-free, so that the awkward question of assigningblame for drought did not become a conspicuous issue; instead theagenda ofsocial intervention and reform is more explicit.

Nevertheless the two Frenchmen did introduce a highly optimis­tic environmental test for the success of the missionary endeavour, andone which must have made an impression on Brown.

It is of importance to geographicalscience,but still more so to the cause.of religion that the state of the heathen countries at the time of theintroduction ofChristianity should be ascertainedwith precision, for ineverycountry in which the gospel has been proclaimed it has, withoutfail, altered the aspect of both larid and its inhabitants."

Not only did this passage constitute an explicit piece of cultural deter­minism, it also amounted to akisky hostage to fortune. It reflectedprecisely the situation into which Arbousset and Daumas had walked;one blessed by several seasons of good rainfall but with a warringpopulation still crippled by the social disruption caused by the Difaqaneand drought. Even in the very year in which Brown first published histranslation of the Arbousset-Daumas Narrative, in Cape Town in 1846,a drought even more severe than that of the early 1820s began to makeitselffelt. For Brown this drought seems firmly to have buried any ofthefacile environmental optimism found in the Arbousset Narrative. By his

Ecology, Climate and Empire102

45 'I took occasion in 1847 to make the tour of the colony. While passing through theKarroo, I witnessed those privations to which the inhabitants were subjected by thearidity of the climate ... my recollections of the journey call up vividly even now oft­recurring visions of bones ofoxen at varying distances along the road - the bones ofoxenwhich had succumbed by the way, travelling in a land where no water is', Brown,Hydrology ofSouthAftica, p. 8.

46 Pollock and Agnew, Historicalgeography, pp. 72-98; For the dynamics of the frontierzone see,AE. du Toit, 'The Cape frontier; a study of native policy with special referenceto the years 1847-66', Archives Yearbook fir SouthAfrican history. 1951, vol. 1.

47 Sirn, Forests andfirest flora ofthe Cape Colony, pp. 78-79; Grove. 'Early themes inAfrican conservation', p. 23.

own account, when Brown left the colony in 1848 at the end ofhis firstvisit his mind was filled with images ofdesiccation-and death.45 Moreoverthe very starkness of the contrast between a drought landscape and theidyllic landscape conjured up in the Narrative served to reinforceArbousser's 'promised land' asasymbol ofenvironrnental salvation in themind ofBrown. The strength ofthis image, coupled with the ferocity ofthe drought, which awoke associations of the worst Old Testamentdisasters in his mind, ensured that Brown's religious mission wouldbecome primarily an environmental one. The vigour ofthis new missioncannot be underestimated. Asa self-appointed messenger ofthe environ­mental 'word' the erstwhile Congregationalist missionary was later topublish a whole set of environmental gospels; over sixteen books onwater, climate and forest conservation.

The drought of 1845-7 ushered in and coincided with majorchanges in the political and strategic pressures upon the expandingcolonial state. 46 It also coincided with important departures in thevaluation ofthe Cape environment by natural scientists. Added together,the new pressures on the colonial state and on scientific perceptions hadsignificant implications for the development ofpatterns ofinterventionin the natural environment. Some of the new pressures on the colonialstate were attributable directly to the conditions of the drought. Lack ofrain throughout the Cape increased the incidence of severe veld andforest firesand encouraged the state for the first time to take amu~.more

, ~I

active interest in controlling the forests which had been, in nam ,,' .'One,under government control since the onset of British rule (and iisomecases since the early 1790s),41 During 1846 and 1847 the first frtlits of

105Scottish Missionaries in SouthernAftica

this interest showed itself in a series ofpractical and legislative attemptsthat were made to stop soil erosion in the vicinity ofCape Town and toprevent veld burning on the 'Cape Downs'.48At the same time a debateon ways ofpreventing excessive incursions into the governments forestsby itinerant bands ofwoodcutters and cultivators developed. As a result,during the years 1846-1848, the possibility ofusing the state forests forthe purpose of regulating marginal elements of the society (initiallyDutch, Coloured and Hottentot itinerants and woodcutters) started to

develop in the official mind."

Within a few years this had important consequences for the wayin which the concept ofland control through state forest regulation was~sed ~o counter the much greater scale of threat posed by Xhosamcursions from the East. Mter an initial war between 1846 and 1848 anattempt had been made to establish military strongpoints and protectedEuropean settlements along the Amatola escarpment betweenGrahamstown and Fort Beaufort. 50•51 In a second Xhosa incursion in1850 these strongpoints were' overrun. When 'peace' was finally estab­lished in 1853 the settlement involved a new and experimental solutionin land-control. A 'Royal Forest Reserve' was established in old Nggika­Xhosa lands in the Tyumie, Keiskama and Buffalo river headwaters."The aim ofthis forest reserve was manifold. It aimed to discourage land­hungry European farmers moving east and prevent Nggika re-infiltra­tion to the west. From 1854 'loyaf Mfengu were allowed into the vacantlands of the Royal Reserve. The ?ccupants of the reserve, part of a linefrom Auckland to the coast at Peddie were 'to act as a sponge, absorbingcivilisation from the white man arid transmitting it back to the barbaroustribes'. 52 The scheme was later developed to include groups of'protected'settlements, to which immigration was strictlycontrolled.53 The conceptofa 'forest reserve' had thus, in the context of the pressures ofdrought,war and an expanding colonial state, come to acquire a new meaning;

48 Sirn, Forests andfirest flora, p 79.

49 Ibid., p. 79.

50 Du Toit, 'The Cape frontier', p. 53.

51 Ibid., p. 75..

52 Pollock and Agnew, Historicalgeography, p. 89.53 Ibid., p. 92.

Ecology, Climate and Empire104

106 Ecology, Climate and Empire Scottish Missionaries in SouthernAftica 107

essentially as a 'native reserve' and as a highly convenient means ofremoving unwanted people. It was a useful innovation for the state andone thatwas not quickly forgotten when mor~§ciendficreasons for forestreservation were produced.f

The droughts after 1846 also focused attention on agriculturalfailure per se and thus on the possibilities which a more systematicexploitation of the botanical resources of the Cape might offer to anailing colonial agriculture. After about 1844 pressure had already beenbuilding up, largely through contacts between botanists resident at theCape botanic garden as a regulated and fUnded scientific institution forthe promotion ofbotanical science and'economic botany'.55 In 1846 thisresulted in the formal re-opening of the Cape Botanic Garden as ascientific institution under srare patronage. It also resulted, far moresignificantly for the future development of a conservation ideology, inthe appointment ofDr Ludwig Pappe as Cape Botanist, thereby provid­ing a platform for relatively autonomous scientific expertise which hadbeen lacking before, and without which J.e. Brown could not haveflourished and developed his ideas.56 The only comparable positions inthe imperial world were those posts occupied by the Superintendents ofBotanic Gardens in India, where a similar advocacy of desiccationismwas starting to take shape, although ultimately ofa conceptually far lessphilosophically grandiose kind than that which emerged at the Cape.V

The growing relationship between Cape scientific expeffise andthe botanical establishment in Britain reflected the increasingj'hterestamong the international scientific community, German even msie thanBritish in determining the mechanisms behind evolutionary processes inplants, and a realisation ofthe possibility ofthe mutability ofspecies.Thenew relationship also reflected an emerging realisation ofthe critical partthat knowledge of the highly specialised flora of the Cape might play inevolutionary studies.

54 Government Notice of8 March 1853.

55 Grove, 'Early themes in African conservation', p. 24.

56 Pappe to W. Hooker, 28 June 1857, Cape Letters, KewArchives sheds light on Pappe'sview of the expert's role.

57 Grove, Green imperialism, ch. 7.

Growing evidence of the extinction of both plant and animalspecies in the Cape Colony served only to sharpen the focus on the Capebiota. The introduction of innovatory conservation legislation, includ­ing the first formally designated game reservesin the Cape in 185658 andthe comprehensive Forest and Herbage Protection Act in 1859 canlargely be attributed to an anxiety about the effects ofveld and forest fire,(which had persisted since the onset of the drought in 1846) coupled~ith a growing awareness ofthe rate at which species were disappearingIn the colony through hunting, burning and forest clearance.

It was against this background that Brown arrived back in theC~l~ny in 1862. He was a much changed man from the departingmISSIOnary of 1848. As an academic botanist he had become wellacquainted with the shifting debates about species derivation which hadcome to a crisis with the publication of TheOrigin ofSpecies in 1859, thesam~ year as the passing ofthe Forest and Herbage Preservation Act. 59 Bythe time Brown arrived back to his appointment as Colonial Botanist in1862 the worst drought of the century in Southern Africa was alreadyunderway, the third in a series of progressively severe droughrs.f" As aresult the bulk of his writings, in his capacity as a state expert andsubsequently as an independent commentator, reflected two develop­ments; the increasingly severe progression ofdrought and, secondly, thenatural-philosophical revolution that surround the publication of The?rigin of Species. His responfe to both developments was directlyInfluenced by perceptions form~dduring his earlier residence at the Capeand by the evangelical thinking ofmen like Moffat. But now it was alsoaffected in quite a different tvay by the work of three non-British

58 Government notice no. 263 regulated the 'Preservation ofElephants and Buffaloes inCrown forests'. Contrary to the model put forward in J. Mackenzie, Theempire ofnature(Manchester, 1988), these early game reserveswere motivated primarily by a interest inspecies protection rather than by a wish to arrogate hunting rights to a colonial elite. Ingeneral the timing ofspecies protection legislation. (and early game reserves) whether inthe Cape, Tasmania. Victoria, Britain, Mauritius or the USA can be located to the decade1863-1873 as a direct response to Darwinian theory.

59 C. Darwin, The origin ofspecies (London, 1859).

60 Nicholson, 'Climatic chronology ofAfrica', pp. 282-288.

i\.61 Jacob Mathias Schleiden, 1804-1881. A polymath, after 1833 Schleiden c~e intocontact with A. von Humboldt. Having acquired a doctorate in law, he taugh~?otany

atJena and then studied anthropology. Apioneerofcell theory, Schleiden's Humbbldtianessayswere published in Pflaneeund ibre Leben in 1848 and would have been read byBrown in the translation by A. Hentrey in 1853. L. Errera wrote, 'Asa populariser he wasa model; as a scientist an initiator'.

62 Elias Magnus Fries, (1794-1878), was convinced from the 1820s of the importanceof evolutionary processes in the natural world; see Systema myc()logitJ- (New York, 1952ed.). However, he found it hard to accept mechanisms of natural selection in evolution,while accepting the general theory of it after his own reading ofDarwin in 1859; T.O.Krok, Bibliotheca botanica (Uppsala, 1925), pp. 199-215.

63 For details ofcorrespondence between J .D. Hooker and Charles Darwin on the criticalimportance of the floras of the Cape and St. Helena and their affinities see Burckhardtand Smith, eds, Correspondence ofCharles Darwin, vol. 4, pp. 69, 311, 312,400. Apartfrom the Galapagos material it was these areas, along with the Falkland islands, that wereofmost importance to Darwin in his theorising.

scientists, J .M. Schleiden.?' (a German), E.M. Frics62 (a Swede trained byLinnaeus) and Ludwig Pappe, (an Austrian and his innovative predeces­sor as Colonial Botanist at the Cape). Confronted by evidence of theeconomic and environmental devastation wrought by the 1862 droughtand the floods which took place in its aftermath, Brown becameincreasingly reliant on the work of the three scientists. There was noaccident in this. All three men were close to, or actually involved in

debates about the mutability ofspecies, and all three were convinced ofsome kind of evolutionary process involving extinction. Though hislegacy in writing was less than the other two, Pappe had been before hisuntimely death, a frequent correspondent and collector for JosephHooker, the scientist most closely involved with and cognisant of thedirection ofDarwin's thinking.63 Principally because of this, Pappe hadbeen highly sensitive to the implications of the process of extinction asit could easily be observed in the Cape. Linked to his, the growingappreciation ofthe necessary in terdependence between species and (in anevolutionary sense) between species and their physical environmentwhich was shared by Brown's mentors meant that these scientists had alldeveloped a sensitivity to the impact of 'European civilisation' onenvironments at a continental or even global scale. Brown quoted partsof the work of all three, along with the work of Moffat, in his official

64 Also quoted in Brown, Crownforests ofthe CapeofGoodHone(Edinburgh 1887) pp94-98. r " .

65 Three other works served, between 1850 and 1865 to confirm Brown's adherence toSchleiden and Fries. Pappe, in his Silva Capemis (Cape Town 1854), and his Reports of1859 and 1860 a1lude~ to dc:;iccation arguments from an unknown source. Brown mayalso have read J.S. Wilson, On the general and gradual desiccation of the earth andat~osphere', in ReportofthePro~eedings ofthe BritishAssociation for theAdvancementof~ctence, 1.858,p~. 157-.158;.andm Thehydrology ofSouthAftica he refers to J.F. Wilson,O~. the mc~e~mg desiccation of inner South Africa', Reportoftheproceedings ofthe

BritishAssociation for theAdvancementofScience, 1865, pp. 160-161.66 Brown, CrownForests, p. 97.

109Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica

Report of the Colonial Botanist, published in late 1863.64 This was adocument which served, effectively, as a manifesto for the whole body ofhis later ton~ervationistwriting and indeed for much of the programmeof state environmental policy into the twentieth century in the CapeColony, Natal and Southern Rhodesia.

Schleiden and Fries both effectively destroyed any notions Brown~ay ha:e had .of any essential beneficence being involved in Europeaninteracnons WIth the Cape environrnent.F' Nevertheless he coupled thework ofSchleiden and Fries with that ofMoffat believing them all to beimportant texts with the apology that,

it maybeunusual to insert in aprofessionalreport lengthened quotationsfrom published works.An intense desire to carryhome conviction mustplead my excusefor the caseI have favoured ... I have thus shown thatI do not stand alone in any opinion that increased heat and droughtfollow all such destruction of vegetation and may thus secure morecareful attention to my remarks on the conservation and extension offorests as a means of counteracting the evil referred to.66

This, then was Brown's project. The care he took in detailing his sources,

one m.ay~ugges~, arose quite simply from the fact that he rightly guessedthat hISdIagnOSIS of the environmental problems facing the Cape mightprove deeply unpopular and difficult for both the state and the settlercommunity to accept. After all, the core ofhis argument and ofhis officialreport of 1863 was that drought and the long term desiccation of

Sout~ern~rica as a whole, as wrll as floods, soil erosion and pasturedeterioration were all caused as much by the nature of settler farming

Ecology, Climate and Empire108

110 Ecology, Climate and Empire Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica 111

..

practices as by indigenous land-use methods. Thus, while quotingMoffat in his 1873 report, Brown qualified his partisan condemnation

of the Tswana by noting,

that the heathen in their ignorance have acted as described need notsurprise us; but what better has been the course p~r~~ed by the.mo~ecivilized? Is it not the case that the history of civilized man In hiscolonisation of new countries has been in every age substantially this'­he has found the country a wilderness;he has cut down trees, and he hasleft it a desert?67

Brown's new critique on the impact of European 'civilisation' on the

'wilderness' was derived in part from the historical perspective learnt byhis reading of Schleiden.68

However it was Elias Fries who proved the more important sourcefor Brown as the inspiration for his own conception of the leading roleof the scientist or the 'truly cultivated man' in mending the ecologicaldamage caused by European colonial expansion. Fries' narrative was ~newhich saw the European creating what amounted to an expandmg

system or engine of destruction which developed ~rom a.ce~tral pointand left a devastated interior. In this model, colonial terrrtories such as

, the Cape Colony now stood on the threatened periphery.

A broad band of waste land followsgradually in the steps ofcultivation.Ifit expands, its centre and cradle dies, and on the outer borders only S,o,we find green shoots. But it is not impossible, it isonly difficult, for rna;.'without renounci~g. the ad;antage o~ cu~ture itself "" .day to maktreparation for the injury which he has inflicted.... True It IS that tho~rl;

and thistles, ill-favoured and poisonous plants, wellnamed by botanists'rubbish-plants', mark the track which man has proudly traversedacrossthe earth. Beforehim layoriginal nature in her wild and sublime beauty.

67 Ibid., p. 96. .68 'Almost everywhere in the greatcharacters in which naturewrites herchro?icles, infossilised woods, layers ofpeat,andthelike, oreven in thelittlenotes ofmen,forInstance,in the records of the Old Testament, occur proof, or at least indications that thosecountrieswhich arenowtreeless andariddeserts, partofEgypt, Syria, Persia, andsoforth,were formerly thickly wooded, traversed by streams nowdriedu~ and shrunkwithinnarrow bounds; while now the burningglow of the sun, and particularly. thewant ofwater, allow but a sparse population.' Schleiden, Theplant: a biography, pp. 305-306.

Behind him he leavesa desert, a deformed and ruined land; for childishdesire of destruction, or thoughtless squandering of vegetable treasures,have destroyed the character of nature; and man himself flies terrifiedfrom the arena of his actions, leaving the impoverished earth to barba­rous racesor animals, so long asyet another spot in virgin beauty smilesbefore him. Here again, in selfish pursuit of profit, consciously orunconsciously he begins anew the work of destruction. Thus didcultivation, driven out, leavethe East, and the desertsperhaps previouslyrobbed oftheir covering;like the wildhordes ofold over beautiful Greecethus rolls this conquest with fearful rapidity from east to west throughAmerica, and the planter often now leaves the already exhausted land,the eastern climate becoming infertile through the demolition of theforests, to introduce a similar revolution into the far west.69

From this millenial vision ofdevastation, Fries believed, the world couldstill be salved by the intervention of'nobler races oftruly cultivated men'who 'even now raise their warning voices'.

It was this programme for the restoration of nature and thecultivating of natural science which Brown saw as his duty to advocateas Colonial Botanist. By aligning himself with Schleiden and Fries,Brown identified himselfwith a whole school of protoevolutionists forwhom the growing debate about the mutability or otherwise ofspecies,with its emphasis on the process of extinction, highlighted notions of

interdependence between species and their environment. In this context,empirical evidence ofspecies extinction or ofsubstantial or irreversibledesiccation acquired peculiar significance, serving also as a reminder of

the vulnerabilityofman to natural processes. Evidence ofextinctions also

fuelled feelings of social insecurity engendered by the erosion of atraditional Christian mental world by the emerging evolutionaryschemasofcontemporary natural science.

In managing to attribute a human causation to processes ofclimatic change Schleiden, Fries and Pappe had, in fact, found an

effective psychological way ofcoping with the central implications ofthe

revolution which evolutionary thinking implied, particularly in the sensethat it had newly defined man, a well as other species, as dependent onthe vagaries ofenvironmental processes. Above all the necessary process

69 Brown, Crown Forests, pp. 96-97.

112 Ecology, Climate and Empire ScottishMissionaries in Southern Aftica 113

of extinction threatened the place of man himself in creation. In thiscontext we can see species protection and forest conservation concerns,which had both developed extremely early at the Cape, as two distinctways of coming to terms with an existential problem, essentially byattempting to re-assert control over the new terms of disorder whichevolutionary thinking dictated. It was to become an obvious temptationto solve problems of political disorder among a colonised people bysimilar means.

Even the struggle between colonial settler and indigenous pastoralist(with his allegedly incendiarist tendencies, as they were frequentlyportrayed) acquired new meaning in terms of the Darwinian debate.Although in the language of T~e Origin ofSpecies successful colonisationmight infer evolutionary success, environmental failure as a corollarycould be construed as symbolising an evolutionary failure. In this senseone can distinguish at least two underlying motives on the conservation­ist agenda at the time that Brown became Colonial Botanist. Both werecomparatively new fears, far more developed than the vague apprehen­sions that one can detect in Moffat as he tried to come to terms, not withspecies extinctions, but simply with the implications of new geological

, time-scales. However, while Brown may have incorporated the underly­ing agendas ofhis Germanic and Swedish mentors, it is dear that he stillretained, at one level, a significant remnant of the evangelical environ­mental moral economy which Moffat had espoused, albeit with~?meimportant modifications. While this ambivalence is not so appar~in

the cold official dictums of his 1863 report, it is quite manifest i~ thepages ofhis first book, Hydrology ofSouthAftica,first published in iS75.Here, his accounts and survey of the effects of the 1862 droughtalternated wildly between rigidly empirical and methodical descriptionand short excursions into the realms of Old Testament allegory andanalogy.70

70 Although in fact Brown states emphatically: 'it is the truth alone which I desire shouldbe discovered. But in view of the importance which I attach to the discovery of truth,whatever the truth may be, I would fain secure for my statements an attentive perusal andcalm consideration.' It seems apparent that Brown did not actually believe he would geta fair hearing ofhis opinions in some official circles in the Cape, a conviction which wasborne out eventually by the manner in which his post was terminated.

As distinct from Moffat's biblical allusions, which offered astraightforward moral lesson and conceived of drought as the wages ofenvironmental sin or sins of moral disorder, Brown's use of the OldTestament is far more circumspect, and without clear moral lessons. Herefers to descriptions of drought and famine in the Bible more ashistorical data concerning natural events whose causation was open todebate." Indeed, he appeared to believe that the sufferers of Biblicaldroughts were more vulnerable simply because they did not have thewherewithal to understand the reasons for drought. Instead, then, anyconventional moral lesson was converted to a conviction that ifcontem­porary science could assign causation, then the societal implications ofthat science must be religiously followed through. Thus here, too, thereisan important distinction to be made between the environmental moraleconomies of Moffat and Brown, in that Brown saw the 'truth' ofscientific analysis as the major plank in his programme of response toenvironmental crisis.

In spite of this there remained a permanent element ofdoubt inBrown's mind. On the one hand his religious antecedents encouragedhim to see drought as a form of moral retribution holding out thepossibility ofa millenial climatic disaster for which conservation mightbe expiatory. But in the majority ofhis writings he is far more speculativeabout the causes of climatic variability. It may be that his resorting toBiblical precedent, (that is, to accounts ofclimatic fluctuation in a semi-

I

arid land) represents a recognition, ofthe inherently fluctuating nature ofthe .Cape climate, and an antidotf to the idyllic unreality ofArbousset.Ultimately though, the evangelical aspects of Brown's thinking un­doubtedly underpinned his conse~ationist enthusiasms. In this sense hisobsessive interest in compiling information and experimental evidenceabout the dynamics of the relationship between forests, moisture andclimate can be interpreted as a search for a moral or religious truth

71 Brown, Hydrology a/SouthAfrica,pp. 11-12. Brown quotes instances of drought from]eremiahXIV, 2-16, I Kings XVII, 10-12, and I Kings XVIII, 5-6. He found the cyclesof drought and flood pre-figured in I Kings, XIII, 41--45 and it is tempting to suggest hesaw himself as a modern climatic Elijah.

72 In 1863 Brown sent out circulars to 'Civil Commissioners, District Magistrat~,

Conservators and wardens of Crown Forests' and scientists in manyother coloniesincluding St Helena, Victoria (Australia) and India, requesting reactions andresponsesto hisdesiccation/climate theories.73 Brown, Reportofthe ColonialBotanistftr 1865, p. 21. This was a thoroughgoi~g

Baconian programme forwhich, at thetime, there were nocontemporary precedents In

British colonies.74 Ibid., p. 21.

pursued through scientific discipline.P In this r~pect ~e was by nomeans unique amongVictorian naturalists. Bmw~, s elev~tlon of~he r~leof the expert and his determined advocacy ofthe expa~slonofSClentl~Cexpertise by the colonial state can be seen in the same light; problems 10

nature (and the colonial state was manifestly faced by many of them)could be solved by technology. In 1865 he wrote that he c~nsi~ered itexpedient 'that there should be some official of whom It, might be

required to report upon all communications made to the g~vernment onsubjects connected with irrigation, forest economy, ~rb~ncultu.re, hor­ticulture. agriculture and botany ... in other lands similar duties havebeen discharged by qfficers under other designatio~s.'73Brown de:el­oped the theme further iQ his 1865 Report, advocating the popularisa­tion of science and its institutions among settler farmers:

There is a prejudice against science. Science.is simply syste~atised

knowledgeand all systematisedknowledge is science, Impart science asthus defined to the practical man, and you increasehis powers for go~dto himself, his family, to his country and to his race.... I should reqUireto see or hear of the colony being studded with such institutions[experimentalfarms];supported by funds raisedin the different districtsin which theyaresituated; but in order to do this isseemsto be necessary

h I ' 74that one should first be tried at the expenseof the woe commumty.

There is no doubt that in the aftermath ofdrought Brown found himself

in a powerful position vis-a-vi~ the col.on!al government'\ind in .aposition to promote his own SOCIal prescnptlons: To borrow~e.terrm­nology of Mary Douglas, the Colonial Botanist was. able,lrlth theauthority ofscience behind him, to threaten the state WIth God, death,time and money; the experience ofdrought as well as the future threat ofit imposed pressures on government and white farmers in all these ways,

115Scottish Missionaries in Southern Africa

75 M. Douglas, 'Environments at risk', in Implicit meanings; essays in the sociology ofperception (London, 1979).

76 J.e. Brown, Hydrology ofSouth Aftica; Forests and Moisture, or effects offtrests onhumidity ofclimate(Edinburgh, 1877); Reboisementin France; orrecords ofthereplantingoftheAlps, the Ceuennes and thePyrenees in trees, herbage and bush(London, 1876), Fora full listof Brown's works see Venter, 'An early botanist',

playing on economic and moral fears.75Despite this, in his relations withthe state in the longer term, Brown had developed a major weakness; hisanalysis of the environmental deterioration of the Cape was too even­

handed with respect to assigning blame to settlers and Mricans. His

projections for the role ofthe expert, in promoting irrigation, setting upexperimental farms, and educating farmers in ways of preventing soilerosion, veld-burning and flooding were almost en tirely directed atwhitesettler farmers. Brown was, in fact, (especially in his 1865 and 1866reports) setting out a embryonic rural development programme, theprincipal plank for which (and one is reminded here of Moffat'sKuruman scheme) was government-funded irrigation. His plans wererejected almost in their entirety, once the spectre ofeconomic collapse inthe immediate wake ofdrought had died away.

This rejection was indicated in a practical sense by the retrench­ment of funding for the post of Colonial Botanist in 1866 and Brownreturned to Scotland in that year. Nevertheless the central message ofhisofficial reports and of his later books, that deforestation and veld­burning were linked to the threat of climatic change, continued to beused to legitimate a programme offorest land control. This was a politicalcourse upon which the Cape government had already embarked for

, reasons that had little to do with conservation and far more to do withan interest in selectively controlling the settlement pattern of Africanpastoralists and farmers. Afte~ his return to Scotland Brown continuedto propagandise his model ofconservation for Southern Mrica in a seriesof books and articles, the most influential of which were Hydrology ofSouth Africa, Water Supply d[ South Afi'ica, Forests and Moisture andReboisement in France. 76

In all these books Brown con tin ued to press the themes that he hadadvocated in his official reports as Colonial Botanist, in particular theneed to prevent forest and veld-burning, conserve and extend forests,

Ecology, Climateand Empire114

l

116 Ecology, Climate and Empire Scottish Missionaries in Southern Africa 117

plan irrigation and provide adequate training fora body of expertsspecialising in forestry and conservation.77 While at first Brown's officialreports and later books were substantially ignored bythe Cape govern­ment they quickly came to the attention of the British botanicalestablishment. Ludwig Pappe's academic collaborator, Joseph Hooker,(now director ofKew) first gaveBrown's warnings publicity in Britain inan article in the Journal of Applied Sciences." Hooker was alreadydistressed, as a botanist, at the accelerating rate offorest loss throughoutthe tropics and sawBrown asa useful anchor for his lobbying for imperialforest protection, which had already borne some fruit in India, but notelsewhere. It was only after Hooker had praised Brown that the CapeGovernment felt compelled to respond; and in 1875 J. Storr Lister oftheIndian Forest Service was appointed 'Superintendent of Plantations atCape Town'. In 1880 funds were voted for a 'Superintendent ofWoodsand Forests' and the office conferred on Count Vasselot de Regne, aFrench forest officer, directly as a consequence of Brown's advocacy ofFrench expertise."?In Britain Brown became a persistent lobbyist on hisaccount for the cause of colonial conservationism. This became moreeffective after the publication ofHydrology ofSouthAftica. As a result, for

'the first time, between 1875 and 1879, colonial governments started tobe questioned by Whitehall about their plans for and spending onafforestation and conservation. The convening of the Natal ForestCommission was an early result of this development. 80 Attempt~adbeen made by individual experts as early as 1841 to alert the im~ial

;~77 In all these matters contemporary French practices were put forward as worthy ofimitation. Brown believed that the superiority ofFrench forest conservation dated backto the 1669 Forest Ordinance promoted by Colbert, This brought all French forestsunder the absolutist purview ofthe state, and was thus, one might suppose, a model easilyadapted to the absolutist conditions of colonial rule,

78 J.D, Hooker, 'Forests',]ournalofAppliedSeience, (August, 1872), pp, 221-223, In thesame issue, an article appeared by Baron von Mueller, the Government Botanist ofVictoria laying out a programme for forest conservation in Australia entitled 'Forestryand its relation to industrial pursuits'. It drew heavilyon Brown, to whose work Muellerhad been alerted by the Cape circular of 1863.

79 See Grove, 'Early conservation themes in Africa', P: 33.

80 See Governor Bulwer's preamble to the Report ofthe Natal Commission on the extentand condition offvrest lands in the Colony (Pieterrnaritzburg, 1880), pp. 1-4.

centre to the problems ofe,nvironmental degradation 81 Hf h . owever, none

o. t e~e pleas had ~een framed, as Brown's was, in terms of a globalclimaric threat, and In terms ofa process which might threaten I ial. . h co 0111econormcs In t e tropics as a whole Even then Brown' .. , s conservatiOngospe! was only taken up by the Southern African governments veryse!ectI~ely and was used, particularly in the Cape, simply to justify thealienation of ~and previously unused by Europeans for the purpose offorest ~eservatlon ..As most state timber needs already had to be satisfiedby the Import oftimber from outside South Mrica Brown' desi ., s esiccarmnarguments proved especi~lly useful.82 Almost without exception, how-ever, adverse commentanes on destructive land-use methods were con­fin~d after Brown's departure to situations in which the activities of~ncan far~erswere the main concern. In this way a language ofmoraldIsapprobation, derived originally from Moffat and Brown w d

d . . , as use tocon emn the activities ofMricans and used to justify th Ce rorest reserveas a tool for their expulsion from forest land Veld burn' h hh '. . - lng, on t e ot er

and,.stlll WIdely carried out by European farmers, received much lessattention.

The chiefexponent of this language ofconservationist exclusionwas D.E. Hutchins, previously an officer in the Indian Forest Servicewho wa~ appointed to the Eastern Cape Conservancy in 1881.83 H~sh~r~d with Brown an academic interest in the causation ofdrought, evenWrItlng a book entitled Cycles 01'Drouebtand Good Seas . (' hAh.· 84 'J I 6' easons tn oout.'J' tea. Ho;vever it is his reports o,n the forests ofthe eastern Cape and

the Transkel that are of most intirest.85 Rejecting the relatively non-

81 I J 'n une.1841, a seriesofletters were exchanged between 10 Downing Street and Sir

Ge~rg~ GI~pS, Gove~nor of New South Wales, on the advisability ofsoil conservationlegIslation l~ Australia. [Mitchell Library, Sydney NSW, ref/ A1288 no.21389 Lo dRuss~ll '" GlppS, 21 June 1841.] This followed the publication ofP. St:.zelecki'sph si~l~scrtp~on ofNew South Waleswhi~~ had exposed evidence ofverywidespread er~ion.

o action w~ t~e~ but Strzelecki s warnings re-surfaced in the Report of the NatalForest CommISSIon In 1880, p. 4.82 S' C>

im, rorests andforest flora, pp. 84-92.83 Ibid., p. 34.

84 Nicholson, 'Climatic chronology ofMrica', p. 317.

8~ See Sim, Forestsandforest flora, p. 46, for a discussion of these reports.

86 Quoted inJ.C. Brown, ManagementofCrownforests at the Cape ofGoodHopeunderthe old regime and under the new (Edinburgh, 1887), P: 293.

87 Brown, Crownforests, p. 121.

partisan approach of Brown, Hutchins chose ~o revivify ~offat' svocabulary of moral environmental economy, d~rec~ly equaung v~ld­

burning and tree-felling carried out by Africanswith moral degeneration

and criminality. The end result, much as it was in the Indian Fores~

Service in which Hutchins had been trained, was to justify, through aselectively applied desiccation theory, the widespread criminalisation ofthose individuals forced to work lands in or adjacent to forests by theexpansionist activities of European planters and settler farmers.8~ Inbrief, the indigenous farmer or fuelwood gatherer was transformed intoa poacher.

The slow diffusion ofthe themes ofsocial Darwinism after about1870 served to reinforce the, terms of the new discriminatory environ­mentalism. The first indications ofthis had emerged in 1865 when John

Croumbie Brown was cross-examined by the Cape Assembly SelectCommittee appointed to assess his 1865 Report. Justifying his recom­mendations for the widespread afforestation of the Cape with exotic

Australian tree species (ostensibly to reduce desiccation) Brown ex­plained that 'it is alleged by Darwin' that 'Widely ranging species ...

which have already triumphed over many competitors in their own

widely extended homes, will have the best chance of s~izing on ne:,places, when they spread into new countries ... thus theywill become still

further victorious, and will produce groups of modified descendants'.87

In this fashion, the language of early Darwinian ecology wa~"easily

converted into a surrogate code for anxieties about colonial sXf!ttess.

Consequently, success in forest protection or in afforestation wit~xotic

species became a matter loaded with symbolism. 'This was reflected in official forest conservancy reports. Remark­

ing on the failure of the Forest and Herbage Act of 1859, as it had been

drafted by Ludwig Pappe, Hutchins opined that 'forest property issimilar to game, it is widely dispersed and difficult ofprotection. It is aseasy for a Kalfir to slip into the forest, cut a sapling, and sell it as a poleat the nearest canteen, as for a poacher to knock over a pheasant' .

-----------q;119

Scottish Missionaries in SouthernAftica

In independent native states, such as the Pondos ... the policyshould bepursued of setting our faces against forest destruction as firmly as other

Without stringent new laws, Hutchins believed, 'the attempt to preservethe forests ofthe Cape Colony ... must inevitablyend in failure'. 88 At th

time.t~is was written Hutchins was engaged in lobbying for the crimins]prOVISIOns ~f th~ 1882 Madras Forest Act to be applied in the CapeColony. HIS strtctureg on the Transkeian forests in the same report

reflected a second line ofapproach. Forest reserves served to protect not

only economic wealth but scenic beauty. 'It is the opinion of a largenumber of people' he stated, that,

the destruction ofthe forestsmeans the deterioration of the most fertile.and the disfigurement of the only beautiful parts of the country ...whatever view may be taken as regards the future of the country, it is asmuch the mo~al ~uty of a civilizedgovernment to set its face againstfor~st d~rructlon In these latitudes, as it is to discountenance any otherSOCial evil, ~uch as slavery or witchcraft. No-one would propose thatslaveryor witchcraft should be encouraged in the Transkei, for the sakeofa fewhundred pounds revenue, yet there are countries where eventshav~ shown.that th~ temporary evilof slaveryis as nothing compared tothe memedlable evil offorest desrrucrion.w

Here .o.nce again it is clear that evangelical critiques of the evils ofde~podmg an Eden, whether 'beautiful' or 'fertile,' had re-surfaced interms as vivid as those used by Moffat and Arbousset. Hutchins was not,

however, contentwith such arguments, pragmatically aware, as he wouldhave been, that the state had acthally sanctioned deforestation in theT ranskei for its own purposes.w In such straits Hutchins was forced backon to the reasoning preferred by iBrown, coupling moral with climaticarguments.

88 Ibid., p. 303.

89 Ibid.,p. 303.

90 Contrary to Hutchins statements, and in the opinion of another of the Cape~~~servators (~ignificantly, a German), most of the destruction in Transkei was notinitiated byAfrlc~ns at all. In~eed much ofit hadactually started after Hutchinsopenedup theforests to timber-working on theIndianpattern Hiscolleague, conservator C.C~~nkel, was well aware of thisReportofthe ComervatorofForests (Cape Town,1889), p.

Ecology, Climate and Empire118

91 Ibid., p. 303.

92 T R. Si~was commissioned to reporton the Rhodesian forests in 1902. Referring to

Brown's work on the dangers of global desiccation he wrote 'to counteract such anenormous evil even to somelittleextentand to delay asfaraspossible the advent ofwhatlies beyond man'spower, isa pressing dutyalike to Gover~men~ and thei~dividu~; andin the maintenance and extension of forests Government IS taking an active step III thatdirection.' Forests and forestflora, p. 49.

moral evils are faced. Cruisers are maintained on the West Coast ofAfrica from purely sentimental and philanthropic ~otives. But ;-r~en

our neighbours propose to destroy their forests, not only are they rummg

their own country, but they are decreasing our rain supply ... Should wepermit our neighbours to cut offour scanty water supply ;-rhich nat.ure'has given us in this dry country? .. I make these remarks with the objectof urging that the timber trade from native states should be looked onas immoral, for exactly the same reasons that the liquor traffic is lookedon as immoral, and laws passed for its suppression in native areas."

Hutchins quite clearly makes the connection here between the protec­tion of forests and the desire to secure and legitimate the possession of

land for Europeans to live in; moreover, he usedJohn Croumbie Brown's

desiccation theories to clinch the argument. The use ofBrown's writingsin promoting the alienation of land for forest reserves, coupled with

notions of forests as scenic Edens from which 'evil' deforestation

activities must be excluded, did not end in the Transkei, however. WhenRhodes started his development of the Shona and Ndebe1e lands forEuropean settlement it was quite logical that Cape forestry expertsshould have been summoned to act as consultants in the management of

the forests of the new colony.?? Cape forest conservators such as e.e.

Henkel and T.S. Sim. as well as Hutchins, were all involved in theplanning of the first forest reserves, consistently offering desiccationarguments and referring to Brown's works as the basis for their recom­mendations. The Cape Colony Forest and Herbage Act of 1~9/1888was even introduced unchanged as Rhodesian legislation. H<t'ever, itwas as little applied as it had been in the Cape Colony, and larg~l'yfor thesame reasons: that its strictures applied to settler farmers as well as

Africans, Instead, the new colonial state focussed its attention on the

founding offorest reserves and, a new departure, on the foundation ofa

93 SeeT. Ra~ger, 'Wh~se heritage? The case of the Matobo NationalPark',JournalofSouth~rn Aftlcan Studtes, 15 (1989). The National Park was first suggested (as anextension of Rho~es' more limited urban/forest park concept) by Dr Eric Nobbs,grandson andarchival executor ofJohn CroumbieBrown, whenDirectorofAgriculturein SouthernRhodesia.

94 Quote~ in D.E. Hutchin.s, Reporton theMatoposPark and trees mitablefor plantingthereand tn SouthernRhodesIa; also a noteonforestpolicyin Rhodesia (Cape Town, 1903).

41

121Scottish Missionaries in Southern Aftica

National Park in the Matopos at the behest ofRhodes and by the terms

o~hi~will. Even. here, the rulin~conservation ethos ofCape forest policy,With Its emphaSIS on the exclusion ofMrican peasants from forest reserveEdens, continued to exercise a strong influence.93

The Salisbury authorities had initially been much puzzled by thevague terms ofRhodes' will which had stipulated that 'a part ofmy said

property near Bulawayo be planted with every possible tree, and be made

and preserved and maintained as a Park for the people ofBulawayo'.94

Part of the solution they adopted represented a reversion to an old

pattern; Conservator D.E. Hutchins was appointed in 1903 to compile

a report on the future management ofthe Matopos park. He entitled thefirst chapter 'An Arboretum in the Matopos'. The agenda of the

Hutchins report was, in fact, a re-enactment ofthe ecological Darwinism

first espoused by Brown in his responses to the Cape Select Committee

of 1865. !he Park was to be extensively planted with exotic tree species

brought In from every corner of the Empire. These exotics would he

sti~ulated, nee~ .to be c.arefully protected, particularly from gra~inganimals and shlfung cultivators; in short, Mricans were to be excluded

from the Matopos. One might argue that J.e. Brown, from whom the

rationale of this mode of management derived, would not have been

happy with the way in which his ideas were finally applied. It is, then, aconsiderable.irony that Hutchin's vision of the Matopos park, shared by

later ~odeslanFores~Departrv.ent officials, was vigorously opposed byDr Ene Nobbs, the Director of{\griculture and grandson ofJ.e. Brown.

Instead, his vision ofa National Park consisted in a wilderness (withoutic trees) I~xou.c. tree~ which w~uld.perrr,tit the residence of Mricans living in

tradI~lOnal ways. This object, In essence, was to recreate the idyllic,

~d~ll1c, landscape ~f Arbousset and Daumas. Two entirely differentVISIOns ofconservauon had thus emerged out ofthe writing ofBrown by

Ecology, Climate and Empire120

ii

the early twentieth century, one Darwinian and racist, the other evangeli­cal and atavistic. As the century progressed later struggles betweenpeasant and settler state, both in Rhodesia~~ and in Nyasaland'" (inforests and National Parks) tended to show that the more humanistic andevangelical part of the early Cape conservationist gospel could notsurvive alongside the ideologies of the colonial settler states."

Far from being simply 'scientific', the ostensibly rational accounts ofearly environmentalists in Southern Mrica concealed a whole collectionofdiscourses and tales. Many ofthese evolved aspart ofthe attempt madeby botanists, and by missionaries above all, to come to terms with arapidly changing semi-arid-environment and with indigenous societiesunder pressure from climatic turmoil brought about by a revolution innatural science. The narratives ofMoffat and Brown were confused andoften contradictory, and they were the product of an unprecedentedphilosophical dilemma in the context ofan arduous and rapidly chang­ing natural environment. Conservation ideas emerged as part of acomplex mental and physical programme to re-assert control amid theshifting sands of a debate about and a crisis in belief, God, descent,origins, time and desiccation. Attempts to protect or to recreate previousGolden Ages can be seen, perhaps, as a way of resolving personal andscientific crises. The project of controlling an intellectual as well asenvironmental disorder, in which previously accepted paraIV,€ters ofbeliefand natural process could all be questioned, led almost in~rablyto a.displacem~nt of the so~ial. pri,orities of the 'scientists'. and t~he co­option of their conservanorust Ideas by the state. ThIS process was

sust~ine~, especially after the publication of The Origin ofSpecies, by acontInUIng promotion, especially by John Croumbie Brown of. , conser-vation propaganda which both threatened further climatic change dpreached the virtues ofenvironmental intervention by the state P an. I ' . rogres-SIV~ y, In .the late years of the nineteenth century, the much-trumpeted~nIversa~1ty?fconservation was legitimated by reference to an interna­tIOnal. SCientific community. It was this, in particular, that allowed thecolonial state to use the righteous language of conservation and toconfine an~ regulate the activities of peasant farmers in the marginallands to which they were becoming increasingly restricted.

123Scottish Missionaries in SouthernAfricaEcology, Climate and Empire122

95 For a recent study of the use made by colonial officials ofconservationist arguments,to rationalise the expulsion of African farmers from unforested Forest Department landin Eastern Rhodesia seeJ,F, Mtisi, 'Population control and management; a case study ofNyamukwara Valley tenants at Stapleford Forest Reserve, 1929-1971', paper presentedto session on 'Conservation and rural people' ofAfrican Studies Association of the UKconference, Cambridge, September 1988.

96 The early development of forest protection in Nyasaland was also based on Capeexperience, Forest reserveswere instituted mainly for 'watershed protection', When theDzalanyama reserve, near Lilongwe, was declared several entire villages were forcibly'removed' [Malawi National Archives; Forest Department records; Central Region files].

97 This theme is developed more fully in Chapter 6,

between ENSO and the Indian monsoon. However a study ofthe 1791events is also of wider interest and implication for the environmentalhistorian and the historian ofSouthAsia. This is because 1791 stands outas the first occasion on which weather and agrarian observations made bscientific observers and others in the tropics were sufficiently elaborat~and sufficiently coordinated in new intellectual networks for some ofthefi~st s~eculations to be firmly made about global rather than regionalclimatic events. By 1816, for example, the 1791 events were identifiedby a number of authorities as having some collective or connectivesignificance. It was principally the institutional reach and complexity ofthe East India Company, with its newly founded botanical and medicalservices, that allowed a relatively sophisticated analysisofthe 1791 eventsto be made, not least through the prior existence of long runs ofconsisten t meteorological 0 bservations and the systems ofregular corre­spondence that had built up to service the new imperial botanic gardensand to regulate the relationship between the East India Company inLondon, its colonial scientists and the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew.Similarly rigorous observations ofweather and agrarian stress were alsobeing made by this time in the Caribbean, not least in Montserrat and~n St Vincent, the latter ofwhich was the site for the first botanic gardenIn the Western hemisphere. In India, St Helena and St Vincent thedrought experiences of 1791 led to an unprecedented interest in thepossibilities offorest protection asa means offorestallingfurther declinesin rainfall that were widely fearedlat the time. While a widespread andreasoned beliefin a relationship between rainfall and forest cover was byno .means new the 1791 global drought certainly encouraged fears ofregional and even global desiccation and even heightened apprehensions~hat ,man himself mig~t ultimately be responsible for damaging changeI~ climate. In East India Company territories at St Helena and in Bengal,BIhar and Orissa such anxieties even led, under the leadership ofWiIIiamRoxburgh, to widespread programmes of tree-planting for the expressp~rpose ofencouraging above-average rainfall, or ofconserving existingrainfall patterns. Furthermore fears about revolutionary climatic changemay have mirrored very palpable fears among the British that revolution­ary political change might engulfthe smaller colonial possessions or evenIndia itself, or that the two phenomena might be linked.

4

The East India Company, the Australiansand the El Nino: Colonial Scientists andIdeas about Global Climatic Change andTeleconnections between 1770 and 1930

Research by historical climatologists and oceanographers over the lastfew years has served to emphasise the very remarkable correlations andconnections between the strength of the El Nifio current and SouthernOscillation (ENSO) and the characteristics ofglobal climate, especiallyin terms ofthe variation in strength ofannual meteorological events, theoccurrence of droughts, monsoons, hurricanes and the occurrence ofextreme weather events. A close knowledge of the archival record over

, many centuries has been vital to uncovering the nature of the relationsbetween ENSO and global climate, but in many instances historicalknowledge has been inadequate in drawing firm conclusions about thenature ofglobal climatic teleconnections. From existing historical~ata

on the strength of the El Nifio since approx. 1500 AD we already ~owI:"

that particular years stand out as having experienced very severeEI ~ifioconditions. For most of these limited number ofyears, until recenri)r, ithas been very difficult to piece together the global impact ofa very severeENSO. In the course of this chapter some new evidence for the globalimpact of the ENSO of 1791 is examined. This evidence makes it clearthat the event gave rise to well-documented drought conditions inAustralia, Southern Mrica, South Asia, the Atlantic, the Caribbean andMexico. These droughts gave rise to severe famine conditions in someregions. Thevery distinctive evidence for the marked global impact ofthe1791 ENSO is of intrinsic climatological interest in demonstrating thecloseness of the connections between ENSO and globally occurringextreme climatic events, and more particularly in the connections

The EINifio 125

Two other general points might be made that relate to currentdebates in the history of imperialism and in the history of colonialscience. There have been some suggestions thatInconsidering the'empire of development' as one might term it; there were two majorphases. The first took place duringwhat Vincent Harlow called 'Britain'ssecond empire' between about 1763 (The Peace of Paris) and about1815. This was at a time when Britain inherited the revolutionaryphysiocratic thinking that had originated with the French but whichdied in France and in most French colonies with the Revolution. Thesecond phase, arguably, lasted from about 1880 (the end of the greatIndian drought of 1877-;-1879) until 1914 and saw a wide range of'development' policies and institution building take place in the British(and French) colonial empires. It also saw effective federation and nationbuilding in Australia and South Africa (which in turn spawned a rangeof institution building, especially in science and land-management).This chapter serves, I think, to provide material to examine the validityof this two stage thesis. Secondly it may shed some critical light on thetheories about colonial science originating in the workofLouis Pyenson.Pyenson, essentially, sees science in the colonies as having been deriva-

, tive, the handmaiden ofimperial capital, and scientifically imitative andunoriginal. I This is a notion sharply disputed in this chapter. On thecontrary I seek to show that science at the periphery, especially in Indiaand Australia, lay at the cutting edge ofnew knowledge and theoris~on.

>!/Colonial Science and the Indian Climate <~

The ENSO phenomenon links climate anomalies across the globe.2

During an ENSO (or warm event) a specific spatial pattern of climatefluctuations develops (e.g, droughts in Australia, Indonesia, India,Southern and North East Africa, heavy rains and floods on the Pacific

coast ofSouth America). So, because ofthe ENSO, climate fluctuationsin many localities can appear almost simultaneously. These climatefluctuations can be said to be teleconnected.

Climate fluctuations have the potential to cause suffering.Droug~ts, floods, storm surges and strong winds from tropical cyclonesm~y directly affect human health or lead to famines or epidemics.Cllll~a~e-related health problems, including famine, epidemics, deathand Injury from wildfire, flood or storm surge in areas affected by ENSOmay also be teleconnected. Aswith the climate anomalies themselves theclimate-related health impacts in various ENSO-related areas tend tooccur simu~taneously. ~or instance drought-related food shortages can~e a potential problem In several counries bordering the Indian OceanIn the same year; that is, the temporal and spatial distributions ofdroug~t-relatedfo~d shortages are not random. Similarly epidemics ofmosq.ulto-borne diseases and other diseases associated with widespreadfloodIng, may occur almost simultaneously in several countries.

. !h~re ~re i~portantconnections between the incidence ofdroughtIn India, institurional responses to it and the beginnings of modernu.nderst~ndingsofclimatic teleconnections between global scale tropicalcirculation and the strength of the Asian monsoon." The 1877-79~rough~and accompanying famine in India led to a flurry ofinstitutionalInnovations, a new famine code and a great deal of debate about theconn~ctions between deforestati~n and rainfall change, most of itcoordinated by Edward Balfour, $urgeon-General of India.? We nowknow that this 1877-79 event wa~ global in its impact.

Wha.t is interesting how~ver is that thinking about globalteleconnections and the chronological incidence of extreme climaticevents bringing about extreme health and economic consequences hadactually begun a whole century before the post mortem of the 1877-79

126 Ecology, Climate and Empire The EINiiio 127

1 See LewisPyenson, Culturalimperialism and exactsciences: Germanexpansion overseas1900-1930 (NewYork, 1985); and Pyenson, Empireofreason; exactsciences in Indonesia,1840-1940 (Leiden, 1989).

2 N. Nicholls, 'Historical EI Nifio/Southern Oscillation variability in the Australasianregion', in H. F. Diaz and V. Markgraf, El Nifio:historicalandpaleoclimatic aspects ofthesouthern oscillation (Cambridge, 1992).

3 G.N. Kiladis and S.K. Sinha, 'ENSO, monsoons and droughts in India', in M.V.Glantz,. R.W. Ka~ and N. Nicholls, eds., Teleconnectiom linking worldwide climate~nomalteS. (Ca~bndge, .1991), ?p. 431--458. See also G.N. Kiladi~ and H.F. Diaz,Glo~al climatic anomalies associatedwith extremesofrhe southern oscillation' ,journalofClimate, 2, 1069-1090.

4 ~e.e R.H. ~rove, Green Imperialism; colonialexpansion, tropical island edens and theorlgtmofenvironmentalism, 1600-1860 (Cambridge, 1995), ch. 8.

5 Transactions of theManchester Philosophical Society, 1784, pp. 373-377.

6 'A meteorological diary kept at Fort St George in the East Indies', PhilosophicalTransactions oftheRoyalSociety, 68 (1778), pp. 180-190, and 80 (1790). While assistantsurgeon at Fort St George Roxburgh took measurements three times a day, using aRamsden barometer and Nairne thermometers.

disaster began. The key, ofcourse, to thinking about the mechanisms ofclimate change and its impact was the collection ofmeteorological data,and exposure to extremes of climate change and exposure to its conse­quences. Frequent foreign travel and growing ease of informationexchange about diffferent parts of the world were further enablingfactors.

During the 1780s there was much speculation, in terms of basicmechanisms, about the connections between air quality, volcanoes andclimate. Visiting Paris in 1783 Benjamin Franklin (a good example ofawell-travelled scientist) was struck by the very wintery conditions of theFrench summer, in a year when it snowed in Paris in July. This wasfollowed by a very severe winter in 1783-1784. At this stage Franklinreached the conclusion that a global cooling in the temperate latitudescould safely be attributed to volcanic action. The cooling layers of dustthat could be observed in the skies ofFrance and the United States were,he thought, due to the vast quantity ofsmoke, long continuing to issueduring and after the eruption issuing from Mount Hecla in Iceland.Franklin wrote up his speculations, which by current scientific thinkingwere broadly accurate, in Passy, France in May 1784. They werepublished in the Transactions of the Manchester Philosophical Societyunder the title 'Meteorological imagination and conjectures'."

Equally important observations were being made at Madras andover a much longer period oftime. Meteorological observations h<lc~beenbegun at Madras at a relatively early date, in fact rather earlier ~~at incontemporary Europe, and had been made by German and p~nish

missionaries. It was against this background that William Roxl$urgharrived in Madras as a young surgeon in 1776. From 1778 he was basedat Samulcottah, in charge of a Company botanic garden on what hadearlier been the site of a Mughal garden. From the time of his arrival inIndia, however, Roxburgh kept systematic meteorological records, analysesofwhich he published in 1778 and 1790.6 These records were commu-

129TheEl Nino

William Roxburgh, Superintendent ofthe BotanicGarden, Calcutta,1793-1813.

Ecology, Climate and Empire128

7 Joseph Banks, 'Diary of the rain at Bombay from 1780 to 1787 and part of the year1788', Philosophical Transactions oftheRoyalSociety, 80 (1790), p. 590.

8 Note that neither Pierre Poivre on Mauritius nor AlexanderAnderson on St Vincentcollected discrete and systematic meteorological data, while Banks and Beatson onlycommenced collection of rainfall data on St Helena after 1811.

nicated to the society by Sir John Pringle. As such they consititute partof the meteorological movement stimulated by JosephPriestley's chap­ters of 1772. In this sense Roxburgh can .be gr~uped along withAlexander Anderson, Edward Long and Gen~ralMelville (all ofwhomworked in the West Indies) as enthusiasts of climatic mensurati~n

working allover the new colonial empire. Moreover Roxburgh's Indianobservations seem to have awoken an interest in Indian meteorology in

Sir Joseph Banks himself, for we know that in 1788 Banks presented a

seven year diary ofBombay weather observations for publication in theRoyal Society's TransactionsI u: may seem puzzling at first that Roxburghshould embark with such vigour on detailed weather observations sosoon after his arrival in India, But Roxburgh had been trained underJohnHope, the Linnaean experimental plant physiologist and curator of theEdinburgh botanic garden. Hope was himselfan enthusiast for the workof Stephen Hales and Duhamel du Monceau and had lectured exten­

sivelyon the climatic theories ofthese two men while Roxburgh had beenhis pupil at Edinburgh in the early 1770s. Hope had also broughtRoxburgh, as his star student, into contact with two important intellec­tual networks, those of the Royal Society and the Royal Society ofArts.From the Royal Society Roxburgh took up the contemporary enthusi­asm for systematic meteorology, while from Hope and the SocietyofArtshe also adopted a related and life-long interest in tree-planting.

As an East India Company surgeon Roxburgh integrated thesemeteorological and arboricultural programmes into a more sp~callymedical discourse, as part ofa programme ofinterventionist int~ctionwith the tropical environment which he developed after 1776. Finally hebecame a pioneer in the collection oftropical meteorological data, to anextent unrivalled elsewhere until the 1820s (except among indigenousChinese observers). It was this basis ofdetailed measurement over manyyears that facilitated Roxburgh's diagnosis ofclimate change and famineincidence as part of his more generalised critique of the colonial impacton the Indian environment 8

131TheEINifio

A m.ajor centre of calculation encouraging the collection ofmeteorological data was the Royal Society itself The society' _. . h s connecnons Wit systematic meteorology dated back to 1723 d .. . . an were, Inorigin, closely co~nected to the discoveries ofHales and the publicationof Vegetable Stattcks. In 1724 Junius Jurin, a close colleague of Isaac

Ne'"':t~n: ha~ .published Invitatioadobservationis meteorologicas communiconsilio institituendes. This appeal for data resulted in the submission oftemperature and rainfall records from as far apart as St Petersburg,Massachusetts and, ~ot least: Bengal, where some East India Companyse~ants had been directly Involved. While important for the Ro alSocIe~ as .an exercise in initiating a data collection network the warsYofthe mid-eighteenth century effectively disrupted these pioneering ef­forts." Hov;ever, after about 1770 an interest in meteorology andmet~or~logIcal networks arose again quite abruptly. This time them?tl;-atlon behind them was more directly connected with a widespreadshifi In ~urope t?wards the collection ofsystematic data as a part ofwidersta~e policy an~ It was more medically oriented. In essence, medical and

~gncul~ural .clImatolo~ became institutionalised as European statesincreasingly Intervened In matters ofpublic health and health welfare. InFrance, for example, a national network ofobservers was established in1778 under .the auspices of the Societe Royale de Medecine, whilecontemporanes spoke of meteorology as a 'new science'.

The work of two observ1rs contributed to the revival ofmeteor­ology after 1770. These were Jean Deluc's 1772 Recherches sur lesm.0dijications de l'atmosphere, and Joseph Priestley's 'Observations ondIffere~t kinds of air', also published in 1772. The dissenting andreformist connotations of Priestley's work meant that from 1772 _

ds Bririh' onwar s ntis meteorology involved a radical set of agendas at least as

s~rong a~ the climatic moral economy implicit in the ideas ofPoivre andhis Ph~sIocratic colleagues in Paris. Roxhurgh could not have avoidedthe SOCIal messages of this meteorological radicalism, and indeed seemsto have embraced them with enthusiasm in a tropical region wheremeteorological fluctuations were so much more extreme than in Europe

9 T. S. Fel~ann, 'Late enlightenment meteorology', in T. Frangsmyr, J.L. Heilbronn~;.R.E. Rider, eds, ThequantifYing spiritin theeighteenth century (Berkeley, 1990), p.

Ecology, Climate and Empire130

10 Quoted in Douglas McKie, 'Joseph Priestley and the Copley medal', Ambix, 9 (1961),pp. 1-22; see also Priestley, 'On the noxious quality of the effiuvia of putrid marshes',Philosophical Transactions ofthe Royal Society, 64 (1774), pp. 90-95.

(and often fatal in their consequences) and-where they might beinterpreted as signifYing more important social-lessons. Roxburgh, likehis Scottish compatrioton the island ofSt Vincent, AlexanderAnderson,became sharply aware of the new moral significance ascribed by theirjoint mentor, Sir John Pringle (President of the Royal Society), to theatmospheric function of Priestley's research findings. Pringle placedPriestley's pneumatics in the context ofthe aerial system offevers and alsolinked it with the model of a benevolent economy which Priestley hadbegun to map. 'From these [Priestley's discoveries] we are assuredthat...... every individual plant is serviceable to mankind if not alwaysdistinguished by some private virtue, yet making a part of the wholewhich cleanses and purifies our atmosphere'. Storms and tempests (i.e,extreme meteorological events) would shake 'the waters and the airtogether to bury in the deep those putrid and pestilential effiuvia whichthe vegetables upon the face of the earth have been insufficient toconsume'. 10 The importance of this line of thinking to the later develop­ment ofclimatic environmentalism can hardly be over-emphasised, as itbecame an essential part of the link made between the environment andthe reformist notions of moral economy among Scottish surgeons in theIndian medical services.

While on St Vincent Alexander Anderson had eventually fol­lowed the implications ofPringle's sweeping environmentalist dictumsby seeking to protect existing natural forests. Roxburgh, fort.J}is part,intended to go one significant stage further in India by cultiv~g newplantations and, implicitly, thereby serving humanity by pUri~ing theatmosphere and increasing the social virtues represented by the'survivalor renewal of vegetation. The gradual unfolding of of Roxburgh'sPriestleyite environmental programme (of course among many othermainly botanical activities) can be identified almost from the date ofhisarrival in Madras in 1776. In that year he began a series ofmeteorologicalobservations for the Coromandel coast (using a Nairne thermometer anda Ramsden barometer) which remained unbroken until his posting toCalcutta in 1793. Logic dictated that Roxburgh should send his obser-

vations bac~ to the Ro~al Society and he duly sent his records for 1777­?779 t~ SIr J~hn PrIngle; thereby reaffirming the theoretical andIde~loglcal b~sls for the observations and incorporating the Indianen:lronment I~to the ambit of the dissenting and reformist networks ofPrIestley and his associates. There were in fact great difficulties of ti

d . 1 . mean space.lnvo ve In prosecuting this policy and a letter from Roxburghto Banks In 1782 indicates that many of the records which he sent tPringle in London were lost en route. However Pringle ensured tharRoxb~rgh's first se~s ofw~ather records from the Madras Presidencywere

pro~ln~ntly published In the Philosophical Transactions of the RoyalSoctety, In 1778 and then much later in 1790.

During the first years of his residency in the Madras PresidencyRoxbu~~h spent much of his time as a surgeon at Nagore and insupervIsing the construction ofan acclimatisationand botanic garden atSamulcottah north ofMadras. Here he embarked on a long run ofplanttransfer and tree planting experiments very much on Physiocratic lines

It was while ~esidentat.Nagore between 1778 and 1780 that Roxburghfirst became Interested In the interconnections between drought, famine

an~ food sup?ly. I~ times ofscarcity he noted, the supply ofcoconurs (a~a)or food Item In the region) from Ceylon quickly dried up. Hetherefore advocat~d Company sponsorship of food-tree planting alongcanal banks and vdlage streets to secure supplies ofcoconuts, sago, datesand palmyra palms, as well as plantain, jackfruir, breadfruit and opuntiatrees. .

. Meanwhile Roxburgh's ~eticulous record keeping meant that heobtaln~d a very detailed empiri~alview ofthe local impact ofthe globallyocc~mng droughts that took place between 1788 and 1793 and whichpar~lcular1yaffected semi-arid zones in Australia, South Asia, Africa, theCaribbean and Central and SouthAmerica. These drought episodes werealmost certainly caused by an un usually strong El N ifio event in the flow~fthe ocean currents along the west coast ofSourh America. This currentIS now ~elie:ed to be the single most effective variable in controllingfluctuatIOns In the global atmospheric circulation and in particular in theSouthern Oscillation ofthe atmosphere. Through what is now known asENSO we can trace ve~ distinctive effects on, for example, the timingand strength of the ASIan monsoon and the incidence of droughts in

133TheEINifioEcology, Climateand Empire132

II

11 See W.H. Quinn and V.T. Neal, 'El Nino occurrences over the past four and a halfcenturies',JournalofGeophysical Research, 92 (1987), 14449-14461.

12 See Alexander Beatson, Tracts on the islandofSt Helena (London, 1816), p. 198.

13 See Edmund Burke, 'Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts', 28 February 1785,reprinted in P. Marshall, ed., Thewritingsandspeeches ofEdmundBurke(Oxford, 1981),

vol. 5.

14 William Roxburgh, 'Suggestions on the introduction ofsuch useful trees, shrubs and

many other parts of the world. In 1791 the El Nifio experienced one ofits strongest known episodes, and possibly the stronges~ episode knownin written history. II Already devastated by a famine in 1780 the Circarsof the Madras Presidency were again very badlyaffected by drought in .1789-1792 and many villages in the Godavery delta were entirely'depopulated. Alexander Beatson later reported that 'owing to a failure ofrain during the above two years, one half of the inhabitants in theNorthern Circar had perished in famine and the remainder were so feebleand weak that on report ofrice coming up from the Malabar coast fivethousand people left Rajahmundry and very few of them reached theseaside, although the distance is only fifty miles' .12 This information hadbeen culled by Beatson from a letter written by James Anderson, curatorof the Nopalry garden in Madras, to Robert Kyd, the curator of theCalcutta botanic garden. There is little doubt that this drought was oneof the severest ever to be experienced in India in recorded history.

The resulting famine was much discussed in Europe and EdmundBurke particularly referred to it. Roxburgh made a particular point ofpraising pre-colonial irrigation methods and, like Burke, believed thatthe Company was largely responsible for the decline in artificial irriga-

, tion and for the increased vulnerability to famine that resulted in periodsofdrought. While there is no proof that Roxburgh was actually aware ofBurke's critique ofthe Company in this respect there is no question thatboth men belonged to the same party in this case.P In fact, since ll82,according to Buchanan, rainfall levels had deteriorated steadily in s~h­east India. This decline had been noticed by Roxburgh and had, in~ct,led him to speculate on the periodicity ofdrought events and to co~parethe severity of the late 1780s rainfall deficit with those ofearlier periodsin history. The results of these investigations were reported to theCompany in 1793. 14 'There are but few, ifany', Roxburgh wrote, 'of the

ot~er plants as are d~emed th,em~st likely to yield sustenance to the poorer classes ofnat1v~s of these provinces during times of scarcity', report to the President's CouncilTamil Nadu State Archives, Privy Council Volume clxxxl, entry dt 8 February 1793 '

15 'Note', in Roxburgh, TNSA, PC Vol. clxxxl, 8 February 1793. .

G

135TheEINifio

lower Maritime Provinces ofIndia that are not subject to (I dare scarce:enture to say periodical, because our knowledge ofmeteorological factsIS but asyet very imperfect) visitations ofdrought, more or less accordingto unknown circumstances'. 'In recent years', he added, 'we have seen

and heard~\the dreadful e.ffects ofsuch droughts prevailing over manypar~s ofAsia'. It ;vas sufficient, he carried on, 'for my purposes to takenonce of that which has taken place in the Circars for no less than threeyears successively, to the dreadfull effects ofwhich I have been a constanteye-witness' .

Roxbu~gh's awareness of the unusual severity of the 1789-93droughts, a direct consequence of his long-term weather observationsled him in three dir:ctions. Firstly, he became interested in locating the1789-93 droughts In a comparative historical and chronological con­te~t. Secondly, he sought to blame the nature ofzamindari landlordshipas It. had been reconstructed by the Company for the seriousness of thefarnine th~t .resulted from the drought. Thirdly, the famine increasedRoxburgh s Interest in planting trees both to provide famine foods andto try to increase the incidence ofrainfall. This last concern would havebeen further stimulated as a knowledge of the passing on St Vincent ofthe Kings Hill Forest Act of 1791 started to permeate among East IndiaCom~anyofficials and among the members ofthe Royal Society ofArts,to which Roxburgh belonged.

By ta~ng an interest in therhistory ofIndian droughts, a logicaloutcome of his meteorological interests, Roxburgh soon became awareofa comparable .drought period 0* hundred years earlier, in the period1685-:-!688. ThIS drought, too, appears to correlate closely with a strongEl NIno event or couple of events. Roxburgh actively sought outdocumentary and oral evidence for these earlier droughts, finding a richs~urce of ~ateri~l in an informant whom he refers to as 'the Rajah ofPmenpore s famdy Brahmen';'? This informant had found among the'recor.ds ofhis grandfather an account ofa most dreadful famine whichprevailed over the northern provinces' during the years 1685 to 1687.

Ecology, Climate and Empire134

16 For further details of this see Roxburgh correspondence, British Museum (NaturalHistory), for 1787-1793,

17 H.D. Love, Vestiges ofoldMadras (London, 1913), vol. 2, p. 410.

18 Roxburgh, letter to Court ofDirectors, 7 March 1796, quoted in Love, Vestiges ofoldMadras, p. 230

During 1687, it was said, 'only one shower fell' and 'very few peoplesurvived these three years'. Roxburgh noted, too, the incidence oflesserfamines in other years, especially in 1737. But the severity of the 1680sand 1780s seem to have made a deep impression on him, much as the1770 famine had done on Robert Kyd in Bengaljan event that had led'Kyd to found the Calcutta botanic garden, in order to develop famineresistant crops). The scale of mortality involved meant, Roxburghthought, that the government would have to address the issue byreforming land-ownership and tree-planting. 'I fear,' he commented,'that no great deal ofgood can be done while the present sysremofrentingthe lands ofthese provinces prevails, viz., that the Sower scarcely knowswhether he will reap or not, and if he mends the bank ofa water courseor digs a well, he knows not but it may be for the benefit of another',Government would have to restore permanent title to the ryots, hethought, 'that we may hope soonest to see the resources for the poor,hitherto unknown in these parts, springing up', 16 In fact, at least onchapter, the Madras government approved these suggestions, resolvingto 'procure cocoanuts from Colombo, sago-palms from Travancore andbread-fruit from the Nicobars for sowing and planting'."

Shortly after submitting his famine report to the Madras govern­ment Roxburgh was transferred to Calcutta as director of the botanicgarden after the death of Robert Kyd. This meant that his policyinitiatives for food security, land reform and tree planting wereJQter­rupted on the Coromandel coast, Nevertheless there were ple~ ofopportunities to develop such physiocratic policies in Bengal. In pa~icu­lar Roxburgh set about improving on Kyd's teak-planting experimentsand expanding them into a fully developed plantation programme inBengal, Bihar and Orissa. To aid him in this he brought with him largesupplies of teak seeds from Rajahmundry." Between 1793 and 1813(when Roxburgh died) the plantation programmewas steadily expandedand continued to be enlarged by Nathaniel Wallich after Roxburgh's

19 Roxburgh, 'A table ofthe growth oftreesin the botanic garden at Calcutt ' Ni h ls 'Journal XVII (1807) 11 ' a, tc. 0 on s

. " pp. 0-111; Letters on various productions of the EastIndies'Mc~o~on~Journa!,XXVII (l810) pp, 69-76; 'Some account ofthe teak tree ofthe Eas;Indies .NicbolsonsJournal,XXXlII (1812) pp 358-354 [Thi "T . 'ISpaper wasreprinted In the1 ransactsons ofthe RoyalSociety ofArts, vol. 30].

20 See for example, Roxburgh, 'Remarks on the land winds and their causes' TransactionsoftheLondonMedical Society, 1 (181O),pp, 189-211. '

137The EINifio

_ Alexander Beatson and the Climate ofSt Helena and theWest Indies

Alexander Beatson, Governor oftge EIC territory ofSt Helena and laterauthor ofTracts on theIslandofSsHelena, (one ofthe books th t D '

k . h hi a arwmtoo w.1t rm on the Beagle) took a keen interest in forest-climatedynamics and long-term climate change as a result ofhis exposure to thedeeply degraded and problematic;: island of St Helena where he wasgovernor from 1808 to 1813, Beatson was extremely widely travelled andread, and thus well prepared to think in global terms. Moreover he was

death, As the first planted trees started to mature after about 1805Roxbur~h ,beg~n to write chapters dealing with their growth andcompanng it with the characteristics ofnatural teak stands. 19At least oneof these chapters was reprinted in the Tramactiom oftbe R IS' .1'A "" 'J . oya octety OJ

rts, and IS IndIcatIve of the close relationship which R b h ', . , , , ox urg maIn-~aIned WIth~~IS SOCIety, Its tree-planting campaigns and environmental-rst personalities. Roxburgh did not in fact drop his m t l' I' '" " e eoro ogicaInterests dunng this period, becoming particularly concerned with theprove~ance ofthe seasonal drying winds which caused so much agrarianhavoc In deforested landscapes. Significantly, he published the results ofthese researches in medical journals,20 There is no doubt th t R b h', 'h' th a ox urg sInSIg ts Into e mechanisms, chronology and scope ofdroughts in Indiawere far ahead of their time and were profound The out f hi ., . h . come 0 ISInSlg ts w.as more i,mportant in terms of tree planting and attitudes todeforestatIon than In terms of understanding glob I I' H, a c rmate. oweverthe East ,India Comp~ny continu~d to provide the setting for furtherprogre~s I~ understanding global cltmate interconnections and to stimu­late thinking about climatic dynamics in general.

Ecology, Climate and Empire136

21 Beatson, Tracts, p. x.

Beatson, then, was already alert to the possibility ofclimate change on a

grand scale and was ready to draw together material from many differentlocations to back up his theorisations. Thus in 1815, alluding to the

1791-1792 drought in St Helena, he wrote that 'the severe drought felt

here in 1791 and 1792 was far more calamitous in India. But those years,he added, were also 'unusually dry in Montserrat'. The sou~ forBeatson's remarks on the Indian drought are known with confnft:nce,

since he quotes letters from John Berry andJames Anderson, curat~rsof,

respectively, the botanic garden and the Nopalry garden in Madras.Beatson had compiled a secret report in 1794 for the EIC on the state of

Mauritius and his information networks were well developed. It isdifficult to establish the source of his remarks about Montserrat, al­though Alexander Anderson and Joseph Banks are possible candidates.An examination of the Montserrat Assembly records, however, demon­strates that the situation there in the EI Nifio phasewas, ifanything rathermore severe than Beatson implied. Thus on 13August1791, in a Petition

an enthusiast for the work ofAlexandervon Humboldt, who was a global

thinker and integrator par excellence. Beatson's reading of Humboldt

made him particularly open to notions of change in the environment

over time. Encouraged by Sir Joseph Banks, 'Beatson, like Roxburgh

before him, started a programme ofsystematic rainfall measurement on

St Helena, which was begun in 1811. Initially Beatson was anxious to

demonstrate linkages between forest cover and rainfall, which he pro­

posed to address (again, like Roxburgh) by a programme oftree-planting.

But it was his wide correspondence and reading that led him to more

complex notions of climate change. In his Tracts he notes

The stratum ofshells and muds on the hills ofAgrigentum, three milesfrom the harbour, and l20t) feet above the sea, the oyster shells foundon the high mountains ofJamaica, the fossil bones of elephants foundby Mr Humboldt in the Andes, 3420 yards above the levelofthe sea,andmany other instances that might be adduced, serve only to furnish themost incontestable proofthat this globe has undergone many surprisingchanges since it was first created."

a

139The EINiiio

to the King, William McKealy, a prominent Irish planter ofMontserratstated, on behalfof the Board (or Council) ofMontserrat the following:

That this ~ou~ faithful and loyal island for several years has very muchdecr~ased m Its crops, as your petitioners conceive, from repeatedhur~lcan~s. a succession ofdry weather and lately from the ravagesofthenoxIOUS Insect emphatically denominated the borer th t .. " . . .... a your pen-tlone~s sorely feel their inability to pay the high rate of interest ofB %at which monies are at present lent in this island. That willing to relievethemselves they did lately frame· a bill to reduce the said interest of B%

to 6%, but that your Majesty declined giving assent to the said bill.22

. On 6 August 1792 (a whole year later!) a reply was belatedlyreceI~ed. by the much-troubled Council of Montserrat denying their

app~ICatlOn~o~ help. The letter (dated 6 March 1792) had been sent bythe Commissioner of Council appointed for the consideration of allmatters relating to Trade and Plantations'. The letter declined thesubstance of the petition and added, quite callously:

It is not advisable in their Lordship's judgement to reduce the rate ofi~terest by law or to make any regulation for the purpose unless specialCircumstances could be stated to justify the same....further of opinion

, that the rate ofinterest should be regulated by the value ofmoney at themarket, and that to attempt to reduce it below that rate is as contrary tothe interest of the landowner as of the lender.23

~his heartless, response raises dhe question of exactly what 'specialCIrcumstances would have been severe enough to allow interest rate

reduction. But in fact, in Novdmber 1792 the Council tried a more

cr~fty, not to say threatening approach to the imperial centre. They

pOl~ted o~t that 'under the distress occasioned by various calamities

which we In common with neighbouring islands have experienced formany years by insects, bad weather and other events we are incapable to

bear any additional expense for the pay of troops for the necessary

22p" fhetinon 0 t e Council ?f Montserrat. laid before the board 13 August 1791;MontserratAssemblyProceedings, GovernmentArchives. PublicLibrary, CrownColonof Montserrat. y

23 Letter of 6 March 1792 received from Commissioner of Council to CouncilMontserratColony,laid before Council6 August 1792. •

Ecology, Climate and Empire138

140 Ecology, Climate and Empire TheEINino 141

protection of the islands'.24 This was no idle threat. As the MontserratAssembly Proceedings recorded a month earlier. the progress of theFrench Revolution had given great cause for alarm throughout Britishcolonies." Thus the Board ofMontserrat referred in their proceedings to'the very precarious and dangerous circumstances of the times occa­sioned by the enthusiastic spirit ofliberty which mistaken and impoliticzeal has raised'26 and to 'the present situation ofthe West Indies Islands,made perilous from mistaken and ill-informed ideas of Philanthropyprevalent in Great Britain',27On another occasion the Proceedings evenrefer to the fear felt by the planters of the 'wild and pernicious doctrinesofliberty and equality' that were rampant even in the West Indies."

In this way we can see, that the effects of the 1791 El Nifio werefeared all the more on account ofthe revolutionary situation, not just inFrance but, more particularly, in the erstwhile colonies of the WestIndies which so nearly neighboured British possessions. It has occasion­allybeen argued (and not without some justification) that the bad harvestof1789 and in succeeding years in France had some stimulative effect inprovoking the popular discontent that characterised the Revolution."But asfar as the Britishwere concerned the relationship between climaticand political turmoil was, in the main, only psychological, but no lesspotent for that. The fear that climatic disasters might bring about socialunrest and rebellion was a very real one, however, on St Helena whereBeatson, asGovernor, was responsible for putting down a major rWFtarymutiny in 1811 among a garrison and slave population tha~ereundoubtedly dissatisfied with their living conditions.l" With the ~dded

24 Montserrat AssemblyProceedings, 3 November 1792, Government Archives, PublicLibrary, Crown Colony ofMontserrat.

25 One of the most important anti-slavery campaigners of the time, Olaudah Equiano,a Yoruba from southern Nigeria, had himself been imported at the age of 11 intoMontserrat as a slave and had stayed there until the age of 18; his writings would havebeen well known by the authorities in Montserrat.

26 MAP, 6 October 1792.

27 MAP, 3 November 1792.

28 MAP, 29 December 1794.

29 See Simon Schama, Citizens: a history ofthe French Revolution (London, 1989).

30 It is no coincidence, of course, that 1811 was also the date that Beatson began officialobersvation of the islands rainfall.

apprehension of the French military threat, disastrous droughts, or thethreat of them, acquired a more than usually worrying connotation.Beatson's observations on the simultaneity and indeed teleconnectionb~twe~n dro~ghts in different parts of the world actually allows us topmpotnr the Impact ofthe 1791 El Nifio and look for evidence in a waythat would not otherwise be possible. Earlier analyses ofsevere climaticevents in the Caribbean (which have anyway tended to focus onhurricanes rather than droughts) have ignored much significant archivematerial. 31 Since El Nifio events have historically been shown to coincide;,it~ low hurr~cane incidence this is an important problem." Droughtincidence has, In general, tended to be at least as disastrous on some WestIndies islands (especially in the Leeward islands such as Montserrat) ashurricane in~idence but involves a more thorough and in-depth knowl­edge .of a~chIva.~ sources." The important point about the impact of theEl ~Ifio In India, St Helena and Montserrat is that a possible intercon­necnon between severe weather in those locations was recognised by atleast one relatively contemporary observer, Alexander Beatson. Therecords ofRoxburgh and Beatson give us an insight into the severity ofthe 1791 event. It is true that since 1987 collated historical evidence hasbeen made available through the work of Quinn and Neal, who havesuggested, at least, that the El Nifio of 1791 was 'very severe' in theirclassi.fic~tion; that is to say, that the 1791 ENSO has been equalled inseventy In the last three centuries only in 1720, 1728, 1828, 1877-78,1891, 1925 and 1982-1983.34 I

,

I31 See for ex~~ple, R. W~sh and A. Reading, 'Historical changes in tropical cyclonefrequency within the Caribbean since 1500', Wurzburger Geographische Arbeiten, 80(1991), pp. 199-240.

32 SeeW.M. Gray, 'Environmental influences on tropical cyclones',AustralianMeteoro­logicaIMa~azine, 36 (1988), pp.127-139; and W.M. Gray andJ.D. Sheaffer, 'EI Nifioand QBO Influences on tropical activity', in Glantz et al., Teleconnections, pp. 257-284.

33 Un~ortunately t~e archives in Montserrat, Dominica and St Vincent, to name onlyth.ree Islands, are In extremely bad condition. For further information on historicalraIn~alllevels s~e R.P.D. Walsh,.'The influence ofclimate, lithology and time on drainage~enslty and reliefdevelopmen t In the tropical volcanic terrain ofthe Windward Islands',In I. Douglas and T. Spencer, eds, Environmentalchange and tropical geomorphology(London, 1985), pp. 93-121.

34 W.H. Quinn, V.T. Ne:J and S.E. Antunez de Mayolo, 'El Nino occurrences over the

%",I~

past four and a half centuries',]ournal ofGeophysical Research, 92 (1:87), pp. ,t~449­14461;andW.H. QuinnandV.T. Neal, 'The historical record of'ElNino events ,mR.S.Bradley and P.D. Jones, eds, Climatesince 1500 (London, 1995), pp. 623-648.

35 La climade Lima (Madrid, 1815).36 Dr Sara O'Hara, Dept.ofGeography, University ofSheffield, personal communica­

tion.37 W.H. Quinn, 'A study ofSouthern Oscillation-related climatic activity for A.D. 622­1990 incorporating Nile River Flood data', in Diazand Markgraf, eds,El Niiio, pp. 119-

150.38 See J.G. Palmer and 1.0. Murphy, 'An extended tree-ring chronology for Java', inProceedings oftheKoninklyke Nederlands Akademievon Wetenschapen, Series C; Bio.andMed Series; 96 (1993), pp. 27--41. This paper analysesa period between 1531 and 1931and suggests the evidence for 50 year ENSO cycles.

There is compelling evidence to indicate; certainly in India, andpossibly in Australia, that the 1791 El Nino, w~s indeed, ~~e mostpronounced ofall these events. As such, it is perhaps not surpnsing thatits global consequences came to the notice of'contemporaries. There areother historical records ofthe severeconsequences ofthe 1791 event thatwere not known to either Roxburgh or Beatson. Thus J.H. Unanuerecorded in 1815 that floods (a characteristic ofstrong El Nifio events inPeru) were very serious in coastal Peru in 1791.35There is also consider­able evidence ofwidespread and apparently unprecedented drought andfamine in Mexico at the same period,36 while severe droughts wererecorded in SouthAfrica in 1791-1792. Nile Flood Records, as recordedsince as early as AD 622 on the lower Nile give a sound guide to rainfalllevels in the Ethiopian highlands. Quinn shows that a very low floodperiod lasted from 1790 to 1797 and that this can be verified by threeseparate sets of data; {weak Nile floods also occurred in AD 650, 689,694,842,903,967,1096,1144,1200, 1230,1450, 1641,1650,1694,1715, 1783, 1877, 1899, 1913 and 1972).37 Otherrelated records oftheseverity of the 1791 event can be demonstrated from parts ofNorthe~n

China and the East Indies.t" In terms of alarms sounded by colonialscientists, however, the records are much more limited. There is at leastone other important set of contemporary colonial records that are

relevant, however.

143TheEl Nino

39 These are drawings and paintings collected together in Timothy McCormick, FirstviewsofAustralia, 1788-1825; an early history ofSydney(Chippendale NSW, 1987).

The Australian Connection

The fear ofclimatic danger and popular rebellion was an issue in anothercolony severely affected by the 1791 El Nino, that is, the fledglingconvict colony at Port Jackson. Although Beatson was not apparentlyaware ofrainfall deficit in Australia we know now that it was substantialand quite prolonged. This is evidenced well by comparingearly drawingsofthe colony, in 1792, 1803 and 1804.39In November 1791 GovernorPhilip reported that what is now known as the 'Tank Stream' had beenentirely dried up for some months. As this was one of the main watersupplies for the settlement this was a serious matter. In November 1791,therefore, a series of large basins were hewn out of the sandstone, withgreat labour, in the hope that they would collect and conserve the littleremaining spring water. These basins were called tanks, after Indianirrigation practice, with which some of the colonists would have beenquite familiar. Henceforth the stream became' known as the 'TankStream'. The dried-up course ofthe stream is easily visible in a drawingof 1792; and there are even trees and shrubs shown growing in the bedofthe stream itself. In a later drawingofabout 1800 (engraved by F.Jukesand published in 1804), the new tanks are clearlyvisible and are carefullylabelled as such. By 1803 a drawing by G.W. Evans of the east side ofSydneycove shows a very considerable flow going down the tank stream.In fact all subsequent illustrations of the locality show a sizeable flow inthe tank stream. 1791-1793 was, therefore a quite exceptional period,and ensured that the colonists experienced conditions far more arduousthan those which would appear' to have been promised by the observa­tions ofhigh rainfall and lush vegetation made on the Cook expedition.In fact throughout the nineteenth century, and ever since, the process ofAustralian settlement has had to confront the consequences ofa series ofdeceptively lush conditions, punctuated by the arduous years ofsevereElNifio events. This was, of course precisely the same phenomenonencountered by the East India Company in its schemes of annexationand agriculural development in India, in which years ofexpansion werepunctuated by monstrous famine events. However it was not for some

Ecology, Climate and Empire142

Ij I"

11

40 E.g. seeCharlesDanversunpublished appendix to the FamineCommissionreport of1BBO entitled 'A century of famines',X classification, Top Floor,Edinburgh UniversityLibrary; seealsocopy in BM; IOL.

years that this very important comparison came to be made and, with it,the development ofa first true awareness ofthe the mechanisms ofglobalclimate fluctuation. Until the critical comparisonwas made betweenIndia and Australia, serious droughts tended to be blamed solely ongeotectonic mechanisms or on the effects of artificially-induced def~r­

estation processes. So how did the link between Indian and Australianclimate come to be made and with it an awareness of the potency of theENSO phenomenon?

In 1877 to 1879 a drought occurred throughout almost all ofIndia that was the worst in living memory and probably the mostpronounced since 179J. Up to 50 million people perished during athree-year period from its direct effects. Even before it had ended a panic­stricken colonial government began a flurry ofinnovative investigationsinto the causes of the severity of the drought and a number of bureau­cratic departures were made.t? The entire investigation of the droughtwas written up as the Reportofthe Indian Famine Commission of 1880.The Indian Meteorological Service was one ofthe resultant institutionalinnovations, along with a new Department ofAgriculture and a newForestAct (ofI878). Sir Henry Blandford, the first Director ofthe IMO,noted the very high atmospheric pressures over Asia at the time and,crucially (and in the manner ofBeatson) , requested pressure informationfrom other meteorologists around the world. Sir Charles Todd, theSouth Australian Government observer, in response to Bla\\9ford'srequest, included pressure observations from various Australian~.tions

"

in an annual series ofpublications recording monthly observatio~ madein South Australia and the Northern Territory. Pressures were highduring 1877 over Australia too, and much of the country suffered fromdrought that year. The coincidence of high pressures and droughts inIndia and Australia obviously stuck in Todd's mind. In 1888 Australiawas again struck by a severe drought. An extensive discussion between theGovernment observers from South Australia, New South Wales andVictoria, on the cause of the drought, was published in the Australasianon 29th December 1888. Todd suggested that Indian and Australiandroughts usually coincided; 'comparing our records', he wrote, ' with

Table 1. Coincidence ofAustralianand Indian droughts (after Russell)

145

1790-1792

1802-18041808-1813

1824-182518281832-18331837-1839

1856-1858

1865-1866

1875-1877

1884

Indian droughts

The EINiiio

1789-1791179317971798-18001802-18041808-18151818-18211824

1827-182918331837-18391842-18431846-18471849-185218551857-18591861-18621865-186918721875-18771880-18811884-1886

Australian droughts

those ofIndia, I find a close correspondence or similarity ofseasons withregard to the prevalence ofdrought, and there can be little or no doubtthat severe droughts occur as a rule simultaneously over the twocountries's"

By 1896, H.C. Russell, the New South Wales GovernmentObserver, was also convinced that Indian and Australian droughts oftencoincided.v Russell, in a chapter published that year, attempted to

41 SirCharlesTodd, Australasian, 29 December1BBB, quoted in N. Nicholls,'HistoricalEl Nifio/Southern Oscillation variability in the Australasian region', in Diaz andMarkgraf,eds,EI Nino, pp. 151-174.

42 H.C. Russell, 'Notes upon the historyoffloods in the riverDarling', paper read to theRoyalSocietyof New South Wales, 3 November IB96.

Ecology, Climate and Empire144

r:I

II

43 E.g. by M.A.J. Williams, D.A. Adamson and J.T. Baxter, 1986, 'Late quaternaryenvironments in the Nile and Darling basins', Australian Geographical Studies, 24(1986), pp. 128-144.

44 H.H. Hildebrandsson, 'Quelques recherches sur lescentre d'action de I'atmosphere',Konglica Svenska Vetenskapsakarkmiens Hand/ingar, (1897), pp. 29-33.

45 E.T. Quayle, 'Long range rainfall forecasting from tropical (Darwin) air pressures',Proc. Roy. Soc. o/Victoria,41 (1929), pp. 140-164.

demonstrate the periodicity of droughts but, almost incidentally, indi­cated the coincidence ofdroughts in the two countries (Table 1). Not alldroughts coincided but many did. This remarkable observation has sincebeen confirmed" and forms part of the set of climate teleconnectionsnow known as the Southern Oscillation (SO). .Other recent empiricalstudies have once again demonstrated that Indian and Australian droughtsboth tend to occur duringEI Nifio episodes. El Nifio-associated droughtsin both countries usually start around May. The discovery of the firsthints ofthe Southern Oscillation isusually attributed to Hildebrandssonin 1897. 44 Sir Charles Todd deserves some credit however for identify­ing, a decade earlier, the global scale of these teleconnections.

When Sir GilbertWalker ofthe IMO named and documented theSO in the early decades of the 20th century, its close relationship withAustralian rainfall quickly became apparent. Walkers's work indicatedthat north Australian summer rainfall could be predicted with an indexof the SO. In 1929 Quayle indicated that spring rainfall farther southcould be predicted in the same way.45After that, only a trickle ofchaptersdiscussed the relationship between SO and Australian climate, until themid 1970s when the worldwide attention on El Nifio led to a resurgenceof interest among Australian meteorologists. Subsequently climatolo­gists have become increasingly preoccupied with what they see as thedominating influence of the ENSO on world climate.

The central point remains, however, that the first steps t~wards

recognising such global influences and fluctuations were enabl)t andfounded upon the relatively sophisticated global networking i EastIndia Companyscientists and their post-I8S7 successorsand, in particu­lar on the colonial networking between Indian and Australian colonialscientists. Once again, it seems, (and to refute the assertions of LouisPyenson) the periphery provided both initiative and innovation inextending human knowledge.

146 Ecology, Climate and Empire

5

Chiefs, Boundaries and SacredWoodlands: Early Nationalism and the

Defeat of Colonial Conservationism in theGold Coast and Nigeria, 1870-1916

This chapter aims to assess some of the attempts made by the Britishcolonial states to introduce forest conservation programmes intoAnglophone West Mrica and to sketch out the nature of some of themore elitist indigenous responses to those attempts. In the course of thechapter I also aim to characterise the changing emphases and fashions ofconservationism in West Mrica and make some brief comparativeremarks about contemporary developments in other parts ofthe Empire.

. The s~oryofcolonial ~onserva~ion in WestMricawas inextricablybound up WIth the developing tension between two entirely differentagendas ofpower, one indigenous and the other governmental withinwhich the state attempted to ass~rt its own notions of enviro~mentalcontrol a~d lan~-u~e planning, r~flectingboth international changes inconservation thinking as well as dn empirical and institutional learning~ro~ess on the part of the local colonial apparatus. Simultaneously theIn~lgenous populations, or at least their leaders, learnt increasingly toadjust ~o the weaknesses ofthe colonial state as specifically manifested inan environmenrs] policy, seeking eventually to manipulate the agendasand mechanisms ofcolonial conservation to their advantage, often withsome success. This chapter then, sets out quite deliberately to questionthe assumption engendered in some quarters! that colonial conservation

I E.g.,.R.Guha, The~nq~ietwoods: ecologicalchangeandpeasantresistancein theHimalaya(D~I?I: Oxford Universiry Press, 1989); N.L. Peluso, 'Co-ercing conservation? Thepolitics ofstate resource control', GlobalEnvironmental Change, June 1993, pp. 21--42.

.....

148 Ecology, Climate and Empire Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands 149

was, throughout the imperial context, a vigorous and militarised instru­men t ofcolonial oppression. Certainly, in BritishWestMrica this was farfrom the case.On the contrary, the evidence indicates that, in the contextofwestern economic penetration, the general 'pattern ofland use changeand forest survival was dictated far less by the colonial state than byindigenous political interest groups in dose alliance with the interests ofmetropolitan capital. This analysis actually corresponds with -existingand highly insightful research by economic anthropologists?

To a greater extent than in other parts of the colonial world,conservation in West Mrica was affected by the distinctive conditions ofindirect rule and local autonomy. Far from succeeding in establishing anenvironmental hegemony, the conservation propagandists of the colo­nial state found themselves, from the outset, in an extremely weakposition and one in which any 'success' in their programmes was entirelycontingent on the support or acquiescence of the indigenous rulers andelites. Indeed, in the Lagos Colony Forest Ordinance of 1902 thisprinciple ofacquiescence was actually enshrined in law.As a result, whenmore broad-based popular resistance developed to the very realcommoditisation and sub-division of the landscape by the state and itscollaborators, it was manifested less in terms of direct clashes with thecolonial state and more in terms ofconflicts between indigenous groups,tribes and classesand, not least, between men and women. In otherwordscolonial conservation helped to intensify and internalise economic andpolitical struggles in terms both of gender and class. .~

The fundamental weakness ofthe colonial state in West J\frica inits conservationist guise was closely associated with the limits of thecolonial state in general, particularly with regard to the lack of control ­over land. This meant that the opportunities for social control andresource control which developed in some other colonies did not developvery far in the Gold Coast and Nigeria. Instead, especially in the GoldCoast, the struggle between rulers and ruled quickly developed into anopen arena for the testing of relative political strengths and the creationof political identities. Partly as a consequence of this the economic

2 E.g. P. Hill, Migrant cocoa firmers in southern Ghana: a smdy in rural capitalism(Cambridge, 1963).

ambitions of the colonial state were diverted far more quickly thanelsewhere into a discourse about 'development', asambitions for straight­~orward co?t.rol slowly foundered. This discourse had very early originsIn the policies of Alfred Moloney, a visionary and conservationistcolonial official. In both Ghana and Nigeria these ambivalent tendencieswere intensified by the close proximity of the biologically wealthy wetfo~es.t zones to the coastal trade routes and towns, the nature of pre­eXistIng trade patterns and the rapidly escalating commercial demandsfor tree and plantation crops. In this setting the fight for indigenouscontrol over land was fired by the desire to retain control over commer­cial potential and incoming capital. As we shall see, this led to aconsiderable contradiction, and one in which the colonial state founditself hopelessly enmeshed. .

The dynamics of external economic penetration as well as theexternally derived antecedents of colonial environmental attitudes dic­tated the environmental history ofthe region. In particular the environ­men tal histories ofthe Gold Coast and Nigeria were closely in tertwined.While they often diverged (especially in Nigeria where there were~mportant regional differences in the development of forest policy) theInter-colonial (even international) nature ofcolonial scientific expertisemeant that important cross-connections were retained in the develop­ment ofcolonial environmental policy. More importantly, the politicalnetworks of 'ecological resistance' became increasingly closely con­nected, particularly between the Gold Coast and the Lagos Colony.

iThe Mankesim Incident

The conflict between colonial European and indigenous Mrican viewsof nature had deep roots in West Mrica. Moreover, as time went by itbecame ~ st~adily ~ore complex social clash, complicated primarily bythe varyIng Incentives offered by capitalist penetration and the lure ofprofits to trading elites, bothAfrican and European. Indeed the identitiesand motivations of these interest-groups were often deeply intertwinedand united in opposition to colonial conservation policy.

To begin with, however, the story was a simpler one, and hadmore to do with clashes between different religious interpretations ofthe

3 W.E.F. Ward, A history oftbe GoldCoast (2 vols, London, 1948).

4The Basel missionaries were particularly active in promoting the spread ofnew varietiesofseeds and plantation crops, introducing coffee and cocoa and founding the some ofthefirst botanic gardens in the Gold Coast.

5 The Brafo is said to have been appointed by the God Bobiwisi ofWinneba Hill, as a'deputy' in local matters, andwas brought to Mankesim fromAshanti, where he had beenpointed out by local priests. The deity thus had an importance over a very wide area ofthe Gold Coast at the time.

environment rather than conflicts between different economic groups.A seriesofincidents that took place at Mankesim, near Cape Coast, helpsto illustrate this point.! Both the initial causeofthe conflict and thenature ofthe indigenous response to the problem were much constrainedby the influence of Christian missionary education. One of the majorcentres for this activity was at Cape Coast where both Basel missionariesand the Wesleyan church were active." An early Wesleyan school wasfounded during the 1840s at Asafa, a village near Mankesim, well inlandfrom Cape Coast. The foundation was thus very close to the shrine ofthegreat Brafo fetish at Mankesim. This shrine was, effectively, one of themost sacred religious sites of the Fanti peoples." The Brafo was believedto dwell in a sacred hollow iq the forest adjacent to Mankesim, and wasconsulted both by local people and by pilgrims, some of whom camefrom a great distance. Any movement of Christians to a point near theshrine would therefore be unwelcome. Local communal politics there­fore came to a crisis in late 1849 when Christian converts from Asafa feltthe need to abuse and ridicule the Brafo's worshippers. Finally, they evenwent so far as to clear the bush in the immediate neighbourhood of thesacred grove in order to make their farms and take advantage ofthe richunworked soil which was to be found there. This was much more thanthe priests were prepared to stand for and they called upon the chiefs andpeople to defend the honour of their god. They did not, however, take

more direct actio~, being convince~ that the Brafo wo.uldav:nge h!.m.. se~f

without human ald. It was not until they had been dlsappolnted~ thisand had seen unusually good crops growing in the Christian farm~ (andseen one ofthe invaders actually shoot a deer within the woodland', thatit was felt incumbent on the priests to do something more active. Acouncil was then held and it was agreed that the Fanti chiefs shouldcombine to defend the honour of the fetish.

151Chip, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands

A~u, King ofMankesim, was appointed the immediate guardianofthe shnne,. and proceeded to rally the support ofneighbouring chiefs.Soon after.this arrangement was made one ofthe fetish priests, ofa lessergrade, decided to join the Christians and, with others, entered the sacredgrove .and cut several poles there for building purposes. Hearing of thisthe pnests went to Adu and called on him to punish the miscreants. Aduthen collected his people, invaded the Christian village at night, burnt itto the ground, and carried away ten Christian villagers to Mankesim.Very soon afterwards, the Governor at Cape Coast came to hear of theincident and summoned Adu to Cape Coast.

A neighbouring chief, Amoku, King of Anomabu, was alsosummoned by the Judicial Assessor at the Castle and asked to interveneand prevail on Adu to comply with the Governor's summons which hehad initially chosen not to do. By now, however, the Fanti chiefs fromfurther afield were gathering and, to the Governor, all the makings ofavery troublesome rebellion appeared to be present. Moreover, a massacreofChristians was threatened, whileAdu threatened to have the turncoatpriest drowned. Suddenly, however, as quickly as the rebellion hadthreatened, the chaos started to die down. This was because a sufficiently!a~~e number of the chiefs summoned by Adu, many of whom hadI~1tlallysupported him, became far more concerned about the interrup­tion to trade and the increasingly disturbed state of the country. Theypreferred to ~ersuadeAdu to come to Cape Coast and, eventually, toreach an amIcable settlement with the Governor. The Christiansmeanwhile, were discouraged, apparently, from further violations ofthesacred woodlands ofBrafo. I

The Mankesim incident highlighted, in a microcosm, some oftheapparently contradictory factors that were to shape and constrain thestruggle between the Gold Coast Chiefs and the inroads of Christianculture, more especiallywhen the COntest involved European claims overforest. land long endowed with indigenous religious and customarymeanmg. Already though, at Mankesim, the increasingly attractivepriorities oftrade had already made themselves felt. Two important shiftswer~ t.o ~ake place in this dynamic. First of all the prosyletisers ofChrIstIamty and the products ofthe Cape Coast Christian establishmentwere to change sides, ending up as redoubtable defenders ofindigenoussacred sites and indigenous control of forests and lands. Anomabu had

Ecology, Climate and Empire150

152 Ecology, Climateand Empire Chief, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands 153

already, at Mankesim, indicated that an undisturbed hinterland for tradetook precedence over the moral economy of sacred woodlands, Whileapparently contradictory, these two developments, the advocacy ofnative land rights by the Christian educated elite and the growth ofAfrican capitalism, together sowed the seeds for.an incipient nationalistmovement in the Gold Coast and, within that, the basis for an increas­ingly strong movement against colonial conservation.

Without doubt, a marriage ofconvenience took place between thedefence of ancestral land rights on the one hand and the advocacy ofunrestrictedAfrican capitalism on the other. The contemporarystrengthofthe latter should not be under-estimated, as it formed, for example, theformative force behind the-dynamic growth of the indigenous cocoaindustry in the early twentieth century."

While the seeds of hostility to colonial environmental and landpolicy were already in existence at the time ofthe Mankesim incident, thebeginnings ofa real movement did not appear to take root for a furtherforty years. By then, the indigenous movement had to facea conflict witha forest conservation ideology that was both complex in its origins andcomprehensive in its ambitions for control of land. The multi-facetedroots of colonial conservation ideology are now beginning to be betterunderstood, and had oriental as well as western roots. The motivationsbehind conservation ideologywere far more than simply economic, and,arguably, it was the 'scientific' moral economy behind much of~l.onialconservation that gave it strength, and made it such a usefuI~ly ofcolonial control agendas in India and other parts of Africa.? I~WestMrica, however, this ideology encountered an equally complex andresourceful indigenous adversary.

Alfred Moloney and the Elements of British West MricanConservation Ideology.

The origins ofthe kind offorest conservation that colonial governmentsattempted to apply in WestMrica can be found in conservation strategies

6 Hill,Migrantcocoa farmers.

7 See Chapter 2; also, RH. Grove, Green Imperialism; colonial expansion, tropical islandEdens and theorigins ofenvironmentalism, 1600-1860 (Cambridge, 1995).

first worked out in Mauritius, India, Burma and the Cape Colony.8 Howwere ~hese str~tegies adap~ed to the purposes of the late-developingcolonial state In West AfrIca? Essential to the early development ofconservationism was the involvement ofa cadre ofprofessional botanistsnurturedin the medical schools of the Scottish Universities and thebotanic gardens ofParis and Edinburgh and, more latterly, at the RoyalBotanic Garden.s, r<..ew. O~e of the central figures propagandising stateforest cons~rvatlOn In India and South Mrica had been Joseph DaltonHooker.' Director ofKew for several decades." In his view the applicationofthe ki~d ofstate forestry that had developed in India was far too longdelayed In other parts of the colonial empire. In 1868, at the ParisE~ibition, he decried the fact that it was only in France, Germany andIndia that forest management and training was firmly established.'Wherever English rule extends', he wrote,

with the single exception ofIndia, the same apathy, or at least inactionprevails. In South Africa, according to colonial botanists' reportsmillions ofacres have been made desert, and more are being made desertannually, through the destruction ofindigenous forests ... 10

. . I~ was this account of the danger ofwidespread desiccation, withIts Implied threat to the economic basis of colonial rule, (lent further

. RH. Grove, 'Early themes inMrican conservation: the Cape in the nineteenth century',In D. ~derson, and R Grove, eds, Cdmervation in Aftica,' people, policies andpractice(Cambndge, 1987); Grove, Green imperialism.9 Al 'M. lan, TheHookers ofKew (London, 1967); Grove, 'Early themes'.

10 J..D. H?oke~, '~or:stty', Journal ofApplied Science, 1 (1872), pp. 221-223. Hecontinued m this vem: In Demerara the useful timber treeshave all been removed fromaccessibleregions, and no care and thought given to planting others; from Trinidad wehave the same story; in New Zealand there is not now a good Kundi (Kauri) pine to befound near the coa~t; and I believe that the annals ofalmost everyEnglish colony wouldrepeat the tale ofwilful wanton waste and improvidence. On the other hand in FrancePrussi~, Switzerland and Russia, the forests and waste lands are the subjects of devotedattentlo~ on the part of the government, and colleges,provided with a complete staff ofaccomplished professors, train youths ofgood birth and education to the duties ofstateforest.ers. Nor in the case of France is this law confined to the mother country. TheAlgenan forests are worked with scrupulous solicitude; and the collections ofvegetableproduce from ~he Frenc~ colonies and New Caledonia etc. contain specimens which,though not falhng technically under Class 87, abound in evidence ofthe forest productsbeing all diligently explored'.

II Hooker, 'Forestry'.

12 The result was compiled in Command Paper C. 1161 of 1875.

13The full list was:1. What are the kinds oftimber trees produced in the country, and to what uses are

they generally applied?2. AIe the forests or lands producing trees owned by the government or private

persons?3. What is the approximate extent oftimber-producing forestsor lands at the presen t

time?4. Is this area increasing or diminishing?5. If diminishing, from what cause?6. AIe any steps being taken for the prevention ofwaste or for replanting any area

which has been cleared?

credibility by Hooker's position as Director ofKew), that first encour­aged the Colonial office to contemplate some kind of unified environ­mental policy in the colonies. As we shall see.Hooker and his successorat Kew, Arthur Thistleton-Dyer, continued to act as a deftcto conserva­tion lobby, continually exhorting the Colonial Office and individ~al

colonial governors to pursue forest protection policies and to developofficial biological expertise, generally by founding botanic .gardens.Unlike in much ofIndia and Southern AFrica the manifestly rich WestAfrican coastal forests were, in the 1870s, as yet little affected bydeforestation. Desiccationwould both forfeit their commercial potentialand threaten more drastic climatic consequences. Hooker's Paris warn­ing was reprinted in theJournalofAppliedScience in 1872, thus reachinga much wider audience.'!

Within two years the Colonial Office had taken the decision toissue a Circular Despatch (along with a copy of representations made to

it, on the basis of Hooker's paper, by the English Commissioner ofWoods and Forests), to all the 'Officers Administering the GovernmentsofHer Majesty's Colonies'. A similar endeavour was made in June 1874by the Foreign Office, 'through Her Majesty's representative abroad,towards the collection ofinformation on the production and consump­tion oftimber in foreign countries'. 12 The Circular required answers toa long list ofquestions, drawing particular attention to rates ofdeforesta­tion and the threat ofclimatic change, aswell as the commercial R?.ltentialof forests. Particularly significant was the question; '~e the

d b h .~, 13 tforests.....owne y t e Government, or prrvate persons. ,~

7. What is the quantity of timber which might be fairly cut every year withoutpermanent injury to the forests?

8. What is the quantiry actually cVt every year?9. What is the proportion ofhome consumption and export?

10. What hav~ been the annual eJfPorts of each kind of timber during the last tenyears; stating the proportions ito each country, and the value ofsuch exports?

11. What are the reasons for or causes of the small exportations in comparison withthe capability of production? :

12. (Ifit be so), what are the the causes ofthe small exportations in comparison withthe capability of production?

13. Have any observations been made or conclusions arrived at as to the climaticinfluence of forests or the effect of their clearance on rainfall, floods etc.?

14. Forward any reports made by departmentsor societies, or any Acts of Legislaturebearing on. the s~bject [These two last points bear a strong resemblance to partsofa quesnonnarre sent out by the East India Company in 1847].

~4The responses were compiled by the Colonial Office in a Command Paper (No 2197)In 1878.

15 A. Moloney, Sketches ofthejimstry ofWestAfrica (London, 1887).

16 H. Cleghorn, Theforests and gardens ofSouth India (Edinburgh, 1861); G.P. Marsh,Man and nature (New York, 1864).

...

155Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands

Fairly rapid responses were made to these circulars by the CapeColonyand Natal, and by the African island colonies, above allSt Helenaand Mauritius. On the WestAfrican mainland, however, the onlyofficialresponse was one received from the Gambia. 14A fuller response from therest of West Africa had to await the appearance of a book written byAlfred Moloney, a Roman Catholic colonial official (later Governor ofLagos Colony), and an enthusiastic advocate offorest conservation. Hisboo.k, first published in 1887 and entitled Sketch ofthe Forestry ofWestAfrIca, formed the basis and the main stimulant for official conservationpolicy in the region, and also seems to have influenced the attitudes ofthe Colonial Office itself.15 Its constituent ideology is therefore worthyofsome attention.

More than most contemporary colonial administrators Moloneyhad had the opportunity to travel widely throughout WestAfrica and hewas especially familiar with conditions in the Gambia, Sierra Leone, theGold Coastand Lagos Colony. Two main influences seem to have movedMoloney to write his conservationist tract, a work which might becompared with earlier, and more widely influential, pieces by HughCleghorn and George Perkins Marsh. 16 Firstly, Moloney had long been

Ecology, Climateand Empire154

17 Moloney, Sketches, p. 90

a keen advocate of the development of the rubber industry in WestAfrica, Equally, he had become increasingly awar~, of its destructiveeffects, particularly in French West Mrica andonthe coast ofMozam­bique. 'In Gaboon', he wrote,

it iswellknown that there has been almost an extermination of the treethat produced this valuable article of commerce ... which has nowcausedit, I am told, to be excludedamong the exportsfrom that part ofWest Africa - how different it would have been had there been somesystemof forestconservancy or re-forestationor evenhad timelyadvicebeen tendered and advantageously followed as to the treatment of thetreesand the collectionof the rubber. This wasa regularcaseof killingthe goosefor the golden eggs and adds another instance ... of the resultbrought about by the reckless destruction of trees ... blind adherence toone industryisnot to beadvocated,aswasprovedthough somewhatlate,to the cost of many, in some of our colonies; but when wehave a goodthing we should treat it kindly and tenderly."

There was no reason, he thought, why such destruction should take placein 'Her Majesty's possessions on the Gambia, on the Gold Coast, and atLagos'. 'Let the sad experience here recorded', he added, 'be a lesson bothto buyers and collectors in Colonies named, that we may not have ..... tolisten to a tale ofwoe and to the cry of 'spilt milk', in consequence of thedestruction ofthe rubber trees'. Furthermore, he believed that large scalere-afforestation might be advisable and suggested the use of C'W!;arina~. ,

Moloneywas most concerned, however, with the likelihoo,L as hesaw it, that deforestation might cause rapid climatic change. The!ry andtreeless reaches ofthe Accra plains were early evidence ofthis, he believed.During the early 1880s he had actively propagandised this view, writingfrequent letters on the subject to the Lagos Times, ironically at a timewhen he was also actively supporting expansion ofthe rubber-collectionindustry, one ofthe chiefagents ofdeforestation in Lagos Colony and thephenomenon that eventually provoked the first forest legislation in thecolony. He quotedAlexander von Humboldt on deforestation, (who hadsaid 'by felling trees which are adapted to the soil ofthe sides and summitsofmountains, men, in every climate, prepare for future generations two

18 Moloney, Sketches, p.238; A. von Humboldt, Personal narrative of travels to theequinoctial regions ofthe New Continent, 1739-1804, trans. H.M. Williams (6 vols,London, 1819); M.J. Schleiden, Die Pflanzen undihr Leben: Populare Vortrage (Leipzig1848). '

19Thiswould, in fact, have been an opinion expressedin the writings ofJohn CroumbieBrown, the pioneering Colonial Botanist of the Cape Colony (Grove, 'Early themes').

20 See O. Omosini, 'The rubber exporter trade in Ibadan, 1893-1904', journal oftheHlstarica] Society ofNigeria, 10 (1979), pp. 21--42.

.,

157Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands

calamities at once, want of firewood and scarcity of water') and alsorepeate~ the pessimistic dictum of Schleiden that 'forests precede apopulation, and deserts follow it'. 18

With respect to the threat of desiccation and desertification thefield evidence which Moloney found most convincing consisted in theformal replies, published in 1878, that had been made to the Colonialand Foreign Office Circulars of 1874. He recorded approvingly that, atthe Cape Colony, 'the immunitywhich British Kaffraria enjoys from thedroughts so common in South Mrica is believed to be due to the~nfluence of the forests' .19 At St Helena and Mauritius, despite pioneer­ing attempts at state conservation, early uncontrolled deforestation hadbrought years of disastrous and alternate floods and droughts. Thelessons of this experience, he said, needed to be learnt in West Mricabefore it was too late. 'Let landlords', he exhorted, 'be influenced by thesuggestions briefly given in this chapter, and let them specially conserve,at least, such belts ofwooded land as cover for mountains or hills and theflanks ofrivers and streams.' He spoke out against'shortsighted greed forayard or two more ground for the production ofsugar cane or some otherplant when the price of sugar ....stood temporarily high - sheer selfishgr,eedfor immediate gain.' Sugar cane plantations had, ofcourse, nearlydestroyed the forests ofMauritius at an earlier period and the crop wasnot yet important in West Mrica. Nevertheless the commoditisation ofagricultural output and the penetration of European market demandwas, as Moloney hinted he kriew, largely responsible for what headmitted was a very recent incr1ease in rates of deforestation, as localfarmers and rubber collectors (rather than plantation owners) respondedto the growing market, especially, at this stage, in Lagos Colony, and tothe financial impositions of the colonial state. 20 The main message ofMoloney's book was that uncontrolled deforestation would lead to

Ecology, Climateand Empire156

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158 Ecology, Climate and Empire Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands 159

..,

uncontrollable declines in rainfall, and he quoted what appeared to be

convincing figures from the far more deforested colony ofSierra Leone.

Such rainfall declines would lead to famine, he; said,'and 'it would be well

to takewarning from our Eastern allies, profiting by their experience, andput a stop to this unlimited practice of shaving the forest of timber.F'Moloney remained unspecific as to the methods by which forest conser­vation might be introduced into West Africa. This was partly because he

was clearly aware of the problems of adapting traditional land-holdingarrangements to the threat posed by the new economic situation. Sellingof concessions by Gold Coast and Yoruba chiefs to timber cutters wasalready widespread by the 1880s. One solution, he thought, might be toimpose conditions of re-planting on the concession holder. Moloneywas, perhaps surprisingly, verywell informed about the environmentallystabilising impact of the religious importance attached to certain treesand woodlands in Yorubaland, a region which he had already come to

know well. 'I may mention', he said,

that I am aware of the superstitious respect that attaches in the Yorubacountry to the Oroko, Afon, Araba, Ashori, and other large trees, and tothe consequent immunity they enjoy from the axe, as also the under­standing that palm trees on allotted sites are preserved and remain theproperty of the landlord.P

But more than this was now necessary, he considered, and it would be tothe landholder's commercial advantage to adopt conservation ~,thods,

'notwithstanding he will surely be ready to increase the valU'e of his

recognised vested interest by the adoption of my suggestions\as theystand, or in some modified, yet advantageous form.'

To sum up, Moloney's conservation message, as outlined in his

book, exhibited some unusually sophisticated views about the socialrealities involved in controlling environmental change, particularly in a

book intentionally published in 1887 to celebrate such an obviously'imperialist' event as Queen Victoria's GoldenJubilee. Much ofthe bookwas consciously development-oriented, particularly in its prescriptions

for the establishment ofModel Farms and Botanic Gardens, and for the

21 By'our Eastern allies', Moloney presumably meanttheG~vernment ofIndia.22 Moloney, Sketches.

introduction of new crops, specifically for local production on small­

h~ldi~gs. Itwas also, however, intended to panic colonial administrators,with, Its constant references to the dangers of climatic change i td I . c ' no

ec anng new wrest laws. There was'no time to be lost', he cajoled. 'Letus take time by the forelock', he suggested,

in the older colonies, such as the Cape of Good Hope C I. . , eyon,Maunt~us,Canada, New Zealand, South Australia, lawsand regulationsnow exist for the conservation of their forests. There it was not that'necessity~ad no law', but rather law became an absolute necessity,andlegalrestraints had to be exercised. It wasin some instances almost a caseofshutting the stable door after the horse had got out.

Traditional land-use practices would have to be overridden, he implied,f~r the ~reatergood. Furthermore, Moloney recommended the revolu­tlona~.ldea that African natives should be fully trained for service astechnicians and forest conservation experts. He quickly put this intopr~c~iceand in 1889 Thomas Dawodu and George Leigh proceeded totrammg at Hope Gardens, Jamaica and the Royal Botanical Gardens at

Kew. They later took control of the Ebute Metta horticultural station

and in.the 18~~s toured the whole ofYorubaland promoting agriculturale,xtenslOn.p.oltc~e~and providing expertise." In 1897 Dawodu and Leighwrote a critical joint paper highlighting the serious deforestation in Ijebuand Ib~danclose to ~agos. 24They also made constant pleas, significantlyemulating Moloney s colourful Imagery, that indigenous rubber tappersshould not 'kill the goose that 11Ys the golden eggs'. Their expertise wasuseful ammunition for the governmenr and was quickly utilised.

As we shall see, once Moloney's notions and his staffing policieswere taken up by alarmed (or opportunist) colonial governments, thescene was set for complex conflict.

23 00 .. 'B k. mos~m, ac groundt? theforestry legislation inLagos colony andprotectorate,1897-1902 ,Journalo/the HIstorical Society o/Nigeria, 9 (1978), pp. 45-69.

24 F.E.R. Leigh andT.B.D~wodu 'Report onNigerian Forests', 28 July1897, PROCO879165, No. 635, quoted III C.W. Newbury, British policy towards WestAfrica: selectdocuments 1875-1914 (Oxford, 1971).

25 This section draws heavily on D. Kimble, A politicalhistory ofGhana:the rise ofGoldCoastnationalism, 1880--1963 (Oxford, 1963).

26 Kimble, Politicalhistory ofGhana.

The politics of conservation in the Gold Coast 1887-1902

To some extent, the conflict between indigenous .landholders andcolonial restrictions on land-use had already emerged in the Gold Coastwell before Moloney's book was published in 1887.25 Initial protestswere provoked by the conditions of the Public Lands Ordinance e~actedin 1876. By 1886, King Tackie, a chief of Usshertown, Accra, objectedto new boundaries drawn by the government under the Act for construc­tion purposes on the edge of Accra. His protests were successful and,when the government sought to strengthen the Act, the request wasturned down by the Secretary of State for the Colonies in London.P

By 1889 Moloney's views had become well known and we~eclearly reaching official ears in Accra. In that year the Governor, SirBrandford Griffith, proposed a remedy to all the gathering arguments onstate versus chiefly land control, by proposing that the whole colonyshould be taken over as 'Crown land' and administered to 'greateradvantage than the inhabitants could do it for themselves'. This was not,of course, quite what Moloney had in mind. Conservation argumentswere, often, in this way, twisted to the advantage ofa colonial executive.The Colonial Office itself remained more cautious and asked for moredetailed proposals. However, the hidden agenda of the government inAccra was now on open display as far as the chiefs were concerned.Already apparent, too, was the clearly different view taken in London.These differences soon became even more apparent. \

During 1891 the ChiefJustice ofthe GoldCoast,J.T. Hutchlhson,was asked to consider a proposal for taking over all 'waste lan&' asgovernment 'property'. He immediately warned that 'the impo~t~nce.ofthe chiefs and heads offamilies would be reduced and a sense ofinjusnce

and consequent hostility to government would be created in the mindsofthe people'. This was a prophetic statement, and made byalawyerwhoalready realised the very weak legal position ofthe governme~t. Instead,Hutchinson suggested, the Crown might take control of minerals and'unused or unoccupied forest land'. Brandford Griffith was not satisfied

with this, however, and, at the suggestion of his son (significantly acolonial administrator in Jamaica), proposed the introduction ofa landtax which, if not paid, would render lands forfeit to the Crown. Inresponse to this Hutchinson pointed out that there were two verypractical obstacles to such a policy. Firstly, the country had never beensurveyed (as, by contrast, the whole ofIndia had been by this period) andlacked any fences and boundary marks. Secondly the chiefs, who hadnever accepted the principle of trusteeship, were already selling land tospeculators and to each other, often utilising English property law; suchtransactions could not, retrospectively, be undone. By late 1893 theGovernor was forced to try another tack and announced that 'the rapidexpansion of the timber trade would make legislation necessary at nodistant date; in order to ensure fair play (sic) to landowners and to preventthe loss ofvaluable resources'. At this stage the Secretary ofState for theColonies, Lord Ripon, was now seriously worried about the apparentlyhigh rate of loss of the timber resource, almost certainly alerted (asBrandford Griffith had been) by Moloney's warnings, as well as by whathe was learning about plans for a timber railway, to be constructedbetween Elmina and Cape Coast.

Pressure from London during 1894 then resulted in the drafting,in 'Accra, ofa Lands Bill designed, contrary to Hutchinson's consistentadvice, 'to vest waste lands, forest lands and minerals in the Queen'. Bythis measure an end would be pjut to the system whereby rural chiefscould conclude mining or timber rights over vast and ill-defined areas ofcountry. Receiving the draft bill in London the Colonial Office agreedthat the government should be Jble to prevent the lands of the colonyfalling into the hands of (European) concession mongers for a bottle ofrum or a case of gin'. This patronising attitude (in fact large sums ofmoney were involved in concession salesl) foreshadowed a severe under­estimation of the reaction of the population to the 1894 Lands Bill.Almost immediately after the first reading of the Bill in the LegislativeCouncil protests began to coalesce and gather strength, initially aroundAccra itself. Soon newspapers such as the Gold Coast Methodist Timestook up the issue, foreshadowing both the later involvement ofthe CapeCoast Methodist lawyers in the forest issue and the critical part played byAfrican newspapers in popularising it among the educated classes. The

161Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred WoodlandsEcology, Climateand Empire160

first petitions to the Legislative Council argued that the Public LandsOrdinance of 1876 was already quite powerful ~nollgh for the govern­ment's purposes. The real intention ofthe Go~ernor, t~ey feared, was t~deprive the chiefs of their 'lands, their gold mInes,~heir gum tre~s, theirrubber trees, their kola trees and everything that is w~rth having andwhich descended to them from their remote ancestors. There ~as, thepetitioners argued, no such thing as 'waste land' as ~lland v.:as ownedby Kings, chiefs or private individuals'. This assertion was, In fact, far

from the truth.In late 1894 the Attorney-General and Colonial Secretary both

returned to the Colony after an absence to find the issue well ablaze.Though having somewhat different views oft~e ma~ter, both me~werehighly critical of the concept of the Lands Bill, which had been Intro­duced while they had been on leave. Hodgson, the Colonial Secretary,was especially concerned about casual and illegal annulment of allexisting ownerships ofvast tracts of so-called 'unoccu~ied' forest la~d.He believed, too, that such heavy-handed interventions were qu~te

unnecessary. The governmen t would profit itself far ~ore,.he wrote Withperspicacity, by safeguarding 'the interests of the Inhabitants and the

capitalists'. . . . .At this point Brandford Griffith, the or~gm.ator of ~he Lands Bill,

left the Gold Coast for good. Meanwhile the agitatiOnS which he had firstprovoked continued to grow, having now spread as far away frqr..,.1Accraas Tarkwa and Anomabu, towards the South-West. European~mpa­the tic to the native view, such as James Drew, now pointed outtat the1876 Ordinance had, as the chiefs had realised, already secure y con­firmed and legitimised their land rights. The Gold.Coast, Drew asser.ted,was in quite a different position from other. colomal protectorates, smceit had not been acquired by conquest, cession or treaty. John Maxwell,the Governor succeeding Brandford Griffith, does not appear to haveaccepted this critical difference. Instead, in ~he first ofmany appeals to'legal' precedents established in other colonies, he argued for the adop­tion in the Gold Coast of the system applied on the ~a~ay States,whereby land sales concessions by chiefs would only be vahd if counter­signed by British authorities. This too proved unworkable under the

terms of the 1876 Ordinance.

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By 1895 there was an additional factor in the situation, in theform ofa new Colonial Secretary, Joseph Chamberlain, an arch-advocateofnon-intervention and ofbusiness interests. It was this latter preference,as well as his desire to maintain good relations with the chiefs ofthe GoldCoast and Yorubaland, that set the scene for the subsequent episodes ofresistance against forest policy in both regions. The issues in the two areascontinued to be seen as interconnected, particularly as far as Chamber­lain was concerned. He felt, however, that some legislation was necessaryin order to prevent indiscriminate felling, but refused to be hurried intoa decision that could prove politically damaging, in direct contrast to thelocal governments in Accra and Lagos. In October, 1895, therefore,Governor Maxwell decided to drop the Lands Bill and focus on a newerand narrower Bill. The chiefs, with the effective aid ofChamberlain, hadtherefore achieved an extraordinary initial victory.

The protesters' complaint was not only about the disruption oftraditional land-use claims and family identity. It also concerned a morebasic racial theme. The implication of the Governor's Bill was, essen­tially, that Mrican claims were not as valid as imposed European legalprinciples. The English-language newspapers recognised this as anunacceptably racial matter. OneJournal, Truth, commented with heavy

, irony that 'the native's untutored mind does not grasp the idea that thecolour ofhis skin justifies the confiscation ofhis property'. This was theissue in a nutshell. On the other hand, the efficacy ofopposition to theLands Bill was related, abovd all, to the close involvement of Mricanlawyers from both Accra, and, more particularly, from Cape Coast,where the early institution ofsecondary schooling by Wesleyan mission­aries had produced, by the mid-1890s, a considerable crop ofLondon­trained lawyers and potential campaigners, manyofwhom were thinkingin increasingly nationalist terms. Indeed, in 1895 an exasperated Maxwellwas led to complain that opposition to the Lands Bill was 'fostered andfed on every conceivable occasion by Mrican lawyers'. The lively GoldCoast newspapers added their literate voice, with sometimes increasinglyShakespearean hyperbole. The GoldCoastMethodist Timescommented,for instance, that the Lands Bill was 'pregnant with fell and butcherlystratagems....byan erroneous, mutinous and unnatural hypothesis, landof economic importance' was being 'diplomatically enveloped in the

164 Ecology, Climateand Empirer

Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands 165

term "waste" so that it could be wrested from its.owners', a procedurewhich the newspapers termed 'unusual robbery and British Brigandism!'

The more restricted Lands Bill of1897 sought only to 'administerwaste and forest lands and not to vest them irr'theQueen'. However itmet with equally determined resistance, as the mechanisms it proposedfor concessions threatened the wholesale conversion oftraditional rightsto rights sanctioned by European law. The arrival back in the Gold CoastofJ.E. Casely-Hayford, later a prolific writer and nationalist, also servedto encourage the protesters, who had, to some extent, already tastedsuccess.Resistance to the 1897 Bill, after it had been put to the LegislativeCouncil, now gave rise to a new movement. This was based on the Fantiassociation known as Mfantsi Amanbuhu Fekuw, an established group­ing at Cape Coast. In April 1897 this was now re-named The Gold CoastAborigines' Rights Protection Society (or ARPS).27 The ARPS was, ofcourse, led by an elite group closely allied, especially at Cape Coast andAxim, with more militant members of the Wesleyan Church. Howeverthe relations with the church could be quickly used as a network toconvene meetings and'educate' the Chiefs ofmanydistricts as to the stateof play on the forest issue. From hindsight it can be argued, quitecorrectly, that the ARPS was supporting the interests of incipientindigenous land speculators and capitalists, many ofthem in league withEuropean capitalists and traders. However, this does not detract from thesincerity of the movement, which was quickly finding that\t hadpowerful and perhaps unexpected allies abroad. Already, the Li~ool

, :.

,~

27 The society's opening public statement ran: 'Whereas in former times, all measuresintended by the government for the whole Protectorate were brought before a meetingof the various Kings and Chiefs of the Protectorate convened for the purpose, and whoin turn communicated them to the people of their respective districts by gong-gong. AndWhereas this time-honoured and effective custom has for some time been set aside andsuperseded by the Gazette And Whereas a very large majority of the population of theGold Coast Protectorate are still unable to read And Whereas even the greater part ofthose able to read cannot well comprehend the meaning ofthe Billspassed from time totime by the government, the above society ofwhich natives and residents alike can bemembers has been formed to discuss various Bills intended to be passed by theGovernment from time to time with a view to fully understanding the meaning purportobject and effect thereof that every person may have the opportunity of understandingthe same.

J1_

and Manchester Chambers ofCommerce had expressed their dislike ofthe Gold Coast land bills and other proposals to restrict forest use.

. Joseph Chamberlain, himself a highly successful Birminghambusinessman, as well as radical politician, clearly took the same kind ofview.A decisive moment came inJune 1897 when aDispatch was draftedto the Gove~no~ in. Acc~a, .war~ing ~im that 'alarm and uncertaintyamongst capitalists In Britain might dIscourage enterprise in the GoldCoast'. The ARPS was also finding useful ammunition from otherofficial sources. In 1895 Governor Maxwell had commissioned a studyof Gold Coast land tenure systems." He had hoped that this wouldstrengthen the hand ofgovernment (assimilar studies had done in India).However the report was inconclusive and unhelpful as far as thegovernment was concerned. TheARPS, however, found that it could be~sed to support th~ir case.The report confirmed that'every piece oflandIn the Gold Coast had an owner. Only on the failure of successors, itpointed out, did it fall back into the common land ofthe village, subjectto control ofchiefs and elders. 'Not only are the bonds of society to besnapped, but family ties are to be broken and family relationshipsd~stroyed', wrote Mensah Sarbah, a lawyer ofthe ARPS. The report, hesaId,. s~owed that the Bill 'refers to the whole land of this country,depriving the aborigines of their right in the soil of their native land'.29

Chamberlain's June 1898 draft Despatch to the Governor indi­cated how the tide had turned rin favour of the ARPS. Thus althoughCasely-Hayford, in 1898, led ,a deputation of lawyers and chiefs to~ondon to protest against the 1897 Bill, the Colonial Office had alreadyItself conceded to the opposition and determined to have the Accragovernment drop the Bill. Instead a 'Concessions Ordinance' wasbrought forward and passed through the Legislature in 1900. To avoidunnecessary argument this Bill was actually drawn up in consultationwith the solicitors of the ARPS in London. It merely restricted the sizeof concessions and made no claims to public lands or interference inMrican ownership. Finally, all clauses relating to forest protection hadbeen removed.

28 Reportuponthecustoms relatingto thetenureoflandon the GoldCoast, London, 1895.

29 The Gold CoastMethodist Times, 30 June 1897.

Ultimately, then, the colonial government, pursuing an agendawhich combined conservation aims with a desire for greater control overland (as well as political control over chiefs, one may surmise), wasdefeated by what was eventually a very multi-fac~tedalliance of chiefs,lawyers, British business interests and radical politicians, personified byJoseph Chamberlain, Casely-Hayford and Mensah Sarbah. A somewhatconcealed element in the story relates to the political instability on' theborders ofYorubaland, caused by apprehension about French territorialambitions. This was a matter that was actually uppermost in Chamber­lain's mind in 1897, and from which the Gold Coast anti-Land Billmovement dearly benefited. Chamberlain was in fact now even moredetermined not to upset the political economy ofYorubaland and theLagos Colony.

Opposition to Forest Conservation Proposals in the Lagos Colony

The progress and success of the opposition to the 1897 Lands Bill in theGold Coast had an immediate impact in the Lagos Colony where, inNovember 1897, a Bill had been introduced that was aimed primarily at'controlling the wave of forest destruction being caused by the kind ofuncontrolled rubber-tapping which Moloney had previously warnedagainst. 30 This bill, intended to become law on 1 January 1898, wouldhave made it unlawful for any person to cut or remove trees or timber(except for firewood or building) or to collect fibre, gum or ru~r,without a licence from a District Commissioner, Travelling Comi}is­sioner or ChiefMagistrate. Although the bill aimed, on the basis of'ttheGold Coast experience, to avoid land tenure matters, it still evoked animmediate tide of opposition, encouraged by local newspapers whichwere, as in the Gold Coast, very prominent in raising issues and bindingopposition forces together. 'The forests ofYoruba' , the Lagos Standardtrumpeted, 'are not government property, nor are they subject to anyalienation to any foreign power [sic]. It is to be presumed, therefore, thatconsidering local considerations and feeling, the proposed Ordinance

166 Ecology, Climate and Empire r1:.

Chiefs, Boundariesand Sacred Woodlands 167

will be withdrawn and nullified'." The Lagos Weekly Record was moregeographically ambitious and added:

forest lands in Mrica compose lands allowed to be fallowed and everyforest has its owner. To demand that an owner should first obtain alicenceand pay a royaltybeforehe can collect the products of his ownland is arbitrary to say the least; while it will be more arbitrary still todecl~re that no ownership attached to such forest lands and therebydepnv~ th~ nativeof his legitimaterights. Nor would it be less arbitraryand objectionablefor the governorto bevestedwithpower to determinebyproclamationwhen aman could collectthe produce of his own land,and when he could not.....the billovershootsthe mark and is calculatedto cause trouble and vexation rather than to confer benefits. 32

The Bill had, in fact, been framed on the basis of an Indian forestconservation model, after Sir Ralph Moor, the High Commissioner, hadproposed to the Colonial Office that the Indian forest system was ideal~or the Lag~s Colony. This marked one of the first of many attempts to~mpose Iridian land-use models on the region, a concept finally discred­Ited only as late as 1938, with the publication of the LeverhulmeCommission on West Mrican Agriculture.

By November 1897 the campaign against the 1897 Lands Bill inthe Gold Coast was reaching a climax, and this caused Sir HenryMcCallum, the Lagos Governor, to withdraw the Lagos Forest Bill fromt~elegislature in 1898 with unusfal speed, almost before local opposi­tion had got off the ground. The Colonial Office acted with even morehaste, demanding that the Bill should be withdrawn completely. Notonly had the extent ofthe Gold Coast opposition become apparent in thecritical six months between March 1897 (the date of the Gold CoastLands Bill) and November 1897, but the threat from the French had alsogrown greater.

31 'The Forest ordinance', Lagos Standard, 10 November 1897, quoted in Egboh,'Background to theforestry legislation'.

32' The proposed Forest Ordinance', Lagos Times, 17 November 1897.

30 Omosini, 'Background to theforestry legislation', 'Therubber exporter trade'; E.O.Egboh, 'Background totheforestry legislation inLagos Colony andProtectorate, 1897­1902', journal o/the Historical Society ofNigeria, 9 (1978), pp,45-69.

168 Ecology, Climate and Empire Chiefi, Boundaries and SacredWoodlands 169

The Trouble at Ijebu-Ode

The apparent willingness on the part ofgovernment to placate opposi­tion by the Lagos Colony chiefs to the bill was furr,hersupplemented inearly 1898 by the explosivepolitical impact ofa clash between guardiansof a traditional religious site and Christian converts; very much on thelines of the Mankesim incident in the Gold Coast of fifty years previ­ously. Considerable loeal unrest had been caused at Ijebu-Ode, (north ofLagos), when Christians had violated a sacred Oro woodland and carriedaway a pig. The matter came to a head when the Police Inspector­General, Mitchell, arrived at Ijebu-Ode to investigate the matter, andordered the Awujale, the local king, to be sent for. When theAwujale didnot respond, Hausa soldiers wert sent in the fetch him. Fighting brokeout, and some chiefs were wounded.

The matter was only finally resolved when the Governor ap­pointed a Commissioner to deal with the situation. The Commissionerappreciated the harm that was done and the Awujale received an officialapology. George Denton, the Acting Governor, also authorised the Kingto collect a heavy duty on all rubber collected in the area. This effectivelydrove a coach and horses through the provisions ofthe 1897 Bill. Denton~inuted that:

At thepresentjuncture I am desirous that thegreatunrestwhichhasjustbeentidedover,should not againbe resuscitated at a timewhen foreign

d;

politicsareso much more important than domestic politics, especially i\.as the government.is in such matters dependent upon the active~assistance of the natives....

Chamberlain reinforced this argument, writing that, 'the bill should bedropped notwithstanding the fact that the destruction ofrubber trees is

t: • '33so serious as to call ror prompt measures to stop It.

One immediate result of these political concessions to the Yorubachiefs was that deforestation continued unabated. A copy ofa report onthe level of destruction eventually reached Thistleton-Dyer, JosephHooker's sucessor as Director ofKew. Itwas, ofcourse, Thistleton-Dyerwho had encouraged Moloney's enthusiasm for the rubber trade. Now

33 Colonial Office Minute, 8 Feb., 1898, C0147/121/314

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he was seriously alarmed at the consequences of the trade and put theLagos government in an embarrassing position by calling for immediateaction to stop timber-cutting. Chamberlain reluctantly agreed to sup­port some measures and, in January 1899, draft Forest Rules werecirculated. On this occasion the Director of Kew made the innovativesuggestion that the chiefs and local authorities should be made respon­sible for forest management.

This suggestion was immediately taken up by Chamberlain as away out ofhis dilemma. MacGregor, the new Governor, was vehementlyopposed to this notion, and horror-struck at the degree of power thatwould thereby be conferred on the chiefs. Nevertheless eventually evenhe agreed that there was no alternative way out of the problem.Essentially, by July 1899, the onus of responsibility had been handedover to the chiefs, leaving the governmentwith only an advisory capacity.Although this situation did not persist without alteration for long animportant principle had been conceded, largelyat the behest oIThistleton­Dyer and Joseph Chamberlain. It amounted to the beginnings of a farmore conciliatory policy than that whichwas to prevail in the Gold Coastwhere the power ofthe chiefs in terms offorest management was retainedlargely through (albeit successful) prolonged resistance and confronta­tion. In Lagos Colony the principle ofloeal management was to developinto the formalised system ofNative Administration Forest Reserves, adevice designed by Sir Fredericf Lugard to recognise the de factosubmission ofthe colonial government to the ecological, land tenure andreligious claims of the Yoruba chi~fs.

The concessions to the Lakos chiefs in 1899 did not mean, ofcourse, that the majority of the rural population were happy with thearrangement. On the contrary, they now had to pay fees to the chiefs forproduce that had, until now, been freely available. The compromise wasthus one that benefited the (senior) chiefs and benefited the colonialgovernment, which could remove itselffrom unnecessary confrontation.On the other hand this policy now displaced serious conflicts aboutchanging mechanisms of resource allocation into a series of disputesbetween those privileged by the colonial state and those who had been,effectively, restricted or impoverished as a result. In fact, in this context,and for the next sixty years, disputes over forest use in Nigeria often

170 Ecology, Climate and Empire Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands 171

involved, (through this process of social distortion), the making ofappeals to officers of the colonial state against the chiefs. Such appealswere, characteristically, made by shifting cultivators, migrants, and, notleast, deputations of women, the latter protesting against agreementsmade between the indigenous patriarchy and the Forest Department. Inthe Gold Coast, where land was generally passed down through thefemale line, such disuputes were less common. It was only in the .lare1920s and 1930s that the government again found itselfin conflict withthe higher echelon of chiefs, as a direct consequence of changes inconservation policy.

In 1899 a report written by Dr Cyril Punch for Thistleton-Dyeron the forests ofLagos Colony had indicated that the rubber industry wascontinuing to cause serious damage. On receiving his copy ofthe reportin May 1899 Chamberlain expressed a further apparently unorthodoxview; he thought that it 'might be practicable to educate the indigenouspopulation to act more wisely in future' with respect to forest resources.This was a logical further step to supplement the principle of controlbeing handed over to the chiefs. Unfortunately the development ofsuchinteresting notions was disrupted by Denton, the Governor, whodeclared an arbitary ban on rubber collection, thereby destroying anyobvious economic incentive the chiefs might have for preventing defor­estation, through fee income. In fact Denton's measure actually servedto re-awaken opposition and, moreover, to bring in the Liverpool.tndManchester Chambers ofCommerce on the side ofthe chiefs, just asli\t.d

<l

happened in the Gold Coast. .~Once more, under pressure from Kew, a new Forest Ordinance

was brought forward by Governor Denton in October 1900. He foundhimselfsupported by Kew. Thistleton-Dyer had by this time changed hismind and decided to opt for a system ofdirect government control.34The

34Thus he wrote in Febuary 1900; 'At first I was under the impression that these forestswere so considerable that the risk ofexhaustion was oflittle moment compared with thedirect benefit from the export trade. But it is now evident that this is not so and that animportant natural asset is being rapidly used up .... the ultimate result will be for the landto become naked and dispossessed of its natural resources. It scarcely requires argumentto show that such a state ofaffairs is eminently undesirable and would not be creditableto the British administration'; Kew Gardens to CO, dt 21 Feb 1900 PRO: C0879/651635/146.

-r-.

-,-~ ,

>::!

new Bi!lled to mass meetings in Lagos on September 19th 1901 and tounrest In Egbaland a week later. TheAlake and his chiefs then visited SirGilbert C.arter, the new governor. At the meeting the Egbas pointed outth~t.thebill transgressed all the premises ofthe 1893 Egba treaty with theBritish. Once more, aswith the 1876 Gold Coast Ordinance, the Britishwere hoist by their own legal petard. Subsequently, opposition devel­oped among a whole variety of elite groups. Moreover, the level of~pposition to the Forest Bill in the Lagos colony was faithfully reportedIn the Gold Coast Globe and AshantiArgusand in WestAfrica.

Eventually, Chamberlain was once again forced to intervene to

acce~~the local p~otesters' view that the proposed legislation transgressedtraditional land rights. The Colonial Office therefore forced an amend­ment to the ~orest ~iIl by stipulating that the Governor might applyf~res.t regulations subject only to the consent ofany Mrican rulers in thedistricts affected. This was, of course, a major concession, and markedthe effectiveness of the popular and business pressures that had beenexerted against the Lagos government. Furthermore, by requiring chieflyconse~t. to forest regulations, the Colonial Office effectively defusedopposrnon to the Forest Bill, which was passed in an amended form onMarch 11th 1902. It also ended most organised opposition to state forestconservation, at least in South-West Nigeria, and laid the basis forLugard's special treatment of the Yoruba chiefs, formally notified in thecontext of the Nigerian Forest Ordinance of 1916.

The Native Administratiob Forest Reserves, a concept designedby Lugard, (and at first unique to,Nigeria) were a belated recognition ofthe extent to which real power over forests had been conceded to theYoruba chiefs. However, the successofthe resistance movement affecteda much wider area than Yorubaland and even ensured that in some areasparticularly in the Delta and Calabar regions of Southern Nigeria, nogovernment forest reserves were declared at all, for fear of arousinguncontrollable political turmoil.

By 1916 the extent of structural adaptation of a colonial forestco~s~rvation system to the realities of Lugardian indirect rule, to thereligious and political significance ofthe Southern Nigerian forests, andto successful pressure-group tactics, was being tacitly admitted bygovernment. This became especiallyapparent in Lugard's own Memoson

3l F. Lugard, Political memoranda, ed.AH.M. Kirk-Greene (London, 1970), pp. 430­455.

Further Resistance in the Gold Coast, 1911-1916 ~-:

Meanwhile, in the Gold Coast, the government had been faced with~e

almost entire collapse of their forest conservation plans. Between 19bo

(the date ofthe Concessions Ordinance) and 1916 the Accra administra­tion made a series ofattempts to resurrect forest control legislation andto found a forest department. All of these failed ignominiously, so that,by 1916, the chiefs and their European timber-trading collaborators

were left in effective control ofthe forest estate. The fact that, after 1916,the cocoa industry, with its associated agricultural migration and forestclearance, was becoming increasingly potent, only set the seal on what

was described in the Gold Coast Blue Book of1923 as an 'utterly useless'

173Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands

situation, ~s.fa~as fore~t.conservation was concerned.36 Perhaps the singlemost humtlIa~IngdeCISIOn forced on the government during this periodwas that which brought about the closure in 1917 of the ForestDepartment, which had been set up by Indian Forest Service staff in

1909. What were the historical roots of this fiasco, unrecorded in anyother colony?

The ARPS had continued to oppose all legislation affectingforests, often assuming, wrongly and naively, that the economic interests

ofthe chiefs were identical with those ofthe rural population as a whole.The forest issue had, in fact, become the political core, ifnot raison d'etre,ofemergent Gold Coast nationalism, in a way in which it had never donein Nigeria. The rise to prominence oftheARPS and the forest movementas jointvehicles ofnationalism was due, in part, to the abilities ofCasely­

Hayford as a charismatic leader, writer and lawyer. It was also due to theextraordinary 'Magna Charta' statement made by Chamberlain, under

some pressure, on the occasion of the ARPS deputation to London in

1898,37 As it turned out, the forest issue lay largely dormant for a few

years, until raised again by the introduction ofa new Forest Ordinance

in 1907. On paper, this measure prohibited the cutting of immaturetrees, but it was entirely ineffective. Then, in 1908, the ChiefConserva­

tor ofSouthern Nigeria, H. N. Thompson (earlier of the Indian Forest

Service and previously, in 1880, a consultant to the Mauritius Govern­

ment) vjsite~th~ Gold Coast an~fecom~endedth~ introduction oftheSouthern Nigerian system. ThIS. gave rise to the Introduction of yet

another Forestry Bill. The ARPS was quickly goaded into action, one of

its firs~ actions being to telegraph the Colonial Office in protest, thus

bypassing the local authorities. Suddenly appreciating the nature of the

gathering political storm, the Conservator of Forests (in charge of a

Department that was less than two years old) arrived in Cape Coast to

try to convince the ARPS of his case. He was effectively ignored, while

36 Hill,Migrant cocoa[armers, Gold CoastGovernment, 'BlueBook'for 1923.

37Ch:unberlain had state~; 'I think I cangive youthe assurance youwish.... I amwillingthat,In allcaseswherenatives areconcerned, thenativelawshall remainandprevail. ...withregard to thedevolution ofland.And I amalso willing that theCourtwhichis to decideupon these questions shouldbeajudicial court'Reportoftheproceedings ofthedeputation,Accra 1898.

Ecology, Climate and Empire172

Forestry inNigeria, published as part ofa more general treatise on colonial

government in 1918:

The conditions which prevail in the Oyo and Abeokura provinces are tosome extent different from those obtaining elsewhere in Nigeria. TheseprogressiveYoruba-speaking Provinces formerly asserted a quasi-inde­pendence by treaty. They are exceedingly tenacious ofthe tribal or familyownership of the land (including forests), and their proximity to theColony of Lagos, and the influence ofnative lawyerswho have becomeimbued with European ideasofland tenure, have combined to introduceamong them the beginnings of a conception of individual ownership ­though this conception is fiercelycombatted by the conservative chiefs.For the reasons given in Para. 4, I favour the creation of forest reservesowned by the state, which (while providing for all the requirements ofthe localcommunities, which participate in their control, and share theirprofits) will add to the General Revenue, and thus decrease taxation ....in viewofthe special circumstances in the two provinces to which I refer,and to their great forest wealth, I am not averse to the creation in themofone or two 'NativeAdministration Forest Reserves'asan experimen talmeasure.... the Native Administration will undertake not merely theirprotection, but also their management.....it may be found necessary toapply some of these principles to some of the Reserves in the theNorthern Provinces.P

the principle of conservingforests is not unknown to the peopleof thiscountry. The chiefsnowand againset apart certainpartsof the forestforthe preservation of game, the collectionof forestproduce and assacredgroves. This has beendone from time immemorial to the presentday,sothat, apart from the taking by the timber industry and the miningindustry of timber for fuel, the forests would be in a state of good

• 39 'kpreservation. ...~.,Belfield's own studies actually bore out the truth ofthis statement. It~sonly when the spread ofthe cocoa-farming industry was well under waythat blame for substantial deforestation could really be attached toindigenous rather than European activity." Incidentally, it could beargued that the situation before about 1916 in the Gold Coast differedconsiderably from that found in Lagos Colony, where deforestation wasundoubtedly severe aswell as largely indigenous in its dynamic. Further­more the evidence produced for the Belfield Commission was politically

Casely-Hayford set about writing a major propaganda piece on the newBill, entitled Gold Coast Land Tenureand the Forest Bill.38

Although the Forest Bill was passed in the Legislative Council inJanuary 1911 it continued to run into opposition from theARPS and theHead Chiefs ofAccra and Osu, Casely-Hayford, meanwhile, prepared tolead another delegation to London. It was this plan which finallyprovoked the Colonial Office into despatching a Special Commissioner,H.C. Belfield, to report on the controversy. Belfield spent three monthsdutifully gathering evidence and holding enquiries at different centres,to which Casely-Hayford, the chiefs and the ARPS all made copiouscontributions. In the course ofso doing, even the 'Lagos' option (that is,as in the 1902 Lagos Colony Ordinance), in which regulations wouldremain subject to a total chiefly veto, was rejected. Going even further forthe opposition, Casely-Hayford and his colleagues specifically rejectedthe whole concept of'scientific forestry'. Moreover they asserted, possi­bly in an attempt to avoid being seen as specifically anti-conservationist,that,

174 Ecology, Climate and Empire

rIj--'J

...!IL

Chiefi, Boundaries and Sacred Woodlands 175

decisive. While the government in Accra still pressed for the 1911 ForestBill to be implemented on the basis that 'injury that is irreparable withinany reasonable period is being done to the Gold Coast forests', theColonial Office itself took the quite different view that, 'because landtenure questions are now under detailed consideration' the chiefs shouldsimply be told 'to stop felling trees indiscriminately'Y In other words,the Colonial Office did not wish to pursue the matter further. The Accragovernment had thus, for the moment, entirely lost the support ofWhitehall.

Between 1912 and 1917, when the Office of Conservator ofForests ofthe Gold Coast actually had to be abolished, no forest reserveswere created at all in the colony, as the government did not possess thenecessary statutory powers. To this extent Casely-Hayford, the chiefsand the ARPS had achieved their professed objective. Significantly,though, some prominent chiefs still expressed the need to protect forests,especially in the face ofthe rapid clearance which the cocoa industrywasstimulatingY In 1915 ChiefOforiAta ofAkimAbuakwa, for instance,was the first ruler to publish bye-laws controlling deforestation in hisdistrict. Such bye-laws, all passed at the initiative ofthe chiefs, prohibitedcultivation of cocoa or food crops on all the outstanding hills in thedistrict (thus, ironically, closely following the dictums ofMoloney andthe 1908 Thompson Report), and included a list of the forest trees thatcould not be fel.led without ~ermisfion.The pattern established by 1915never substantially altered In the Gold Coast itself and the colonialauthorities remained embarrassed.until independence at their failure tocarry out the kind offorest conseJation objectives that were considerednormal in India or Burma, for' example. This position was neatlysummed up by Major F.M. Oliphant in a report made to the Gold Coastgovernment in 1934. The situation, Oliphant complained bitterly,

appeared to be largelygovernedby the fact that the domesticand exporttrade isin the hands ofAfricans, the lackof organisationbeingsuch thatthewholemonth might wellhavebeenspent in examining that position

38 J.E. Casey-Hayford, Gold Coastland tenureand theForest Bill (London, 1912).

39 Ibid.40 Hill, Migrant cocoa farmers.

I

41 Di~patch No. 747 of30 November 1912 from Harcourt to Bryan, Ghana NationalArchives.42 Hill, Migrant cocoa farmers.

Conclusion

43 F.M.Oliphant, Reportonthecommercialpossibilitiesand developmentoftheftrestsoftheGold Coast(Accra, 1934).

44 1 deal wirh this in an essay currently under preparation.

45 AT. Grove, Land useand soilconservation in parts ofOnitsha and Owerriprovinces(Zaria, 1951), and personal communication, 1994.

alone. On the question of supplies, I found that .the measure ofGovernment control over the forests was so small, .destruction wasproceedingso rapidly, and, for reasons givenlaterin this report, both thepresent and future situation were so uncertain that'no reliable opinioncould be formed without a verysearchingenquiry and detailed inspec­tion of forest areas."

Chiefi, Boundariesand Sacred Woodlands 177

current concerns much more sharply than is generally appreciated.Specifically, then, in this paper we can highlight the extent to which thepr.actitioners offorest conservation, bothMrican andEuropean, chose toreject or were compelled to reject the colonial land management modelswh~ch they had institutionally inherited or had thrust upon them, andwhich had earlier found favour in the Indian and Southern Africancolonial context. We can also trace the way in which colonial rulers wereforced to select regionally adapted models of conservation that moretruly reflected the weakness ofthe colonial state in West Mrica, particu­lar~y as regards the relatively successful retainmenr of power by localchiefs and rulers vis-a-vis the state, amidst a context in which Europeansettlement always remained a low priority. This pattern of adaptationwas probably not limited to the Gold Coast and Nigeria, but we wouldneed further detailed local research in theMrican con text to come to suchcon~lusions. In particular I believe that we need to seriously question thenot~on ofa homo~eneous kind of 'colonial state' as far as the history ofenvironmental policy was concerned. In fact it seems that the differencesbetween colonial state policies were very much greater and more signifi­cant than the similarities. Even in India, where the forest department hadlong been considered by its harshest critics46 as a formidable oppressor oft~e pe~~le,.it is now ~eing~stablishedthat there were enormous regionaldisparities In the way In which policies were actually adapted to real socialconditions on the ground." In colonial British and Francophone Africah di . . al It e isparrnes were most certainly far greater. The way ahead, there-

fore, will be to construct mud} more detailed local environmentalhistories, both at government arid village level, taking care to discardmost prec~nceptio~sabout colonial environmental policy along the way.At first this task will not be easy since, arguably, environmental history

46 E.g:, M. Gadgil and R. Guha, Thisfisured land: towards an ecological history ofIndia(Deihl, 1993). .

47 ~. Rangarajan, 'Production, desiccation and forest management in the Centralprovinces 1850-1930'; A. Skaria, 'Timber conservancy, desiccationism and scientificforestry; rhe Dangs region, 1840-1920s', in R. Grove, V. Damodaran, and S. Sangwan,eds, Nature and the Orient:essays on theenvironmentalhistory ofSouthand SoutheastAsia(Delhi: Oxford Universiry Press, 1997).

IJ

i. I

I

·1·.··'1., II'I!

Ecology, Climate and Empire176

By 1916, both in Nigeria and the Gold Coast, the conservation debatehad come full circle. At least temporarily, indigenous interest-groups,with the aid of some unusual allies, had been successful in re-assertingcontrol over forest landscapes which, still imbued with social ~nd

religious meaning, were now increasingly significant in an econo~c

sense. This did not mean, of course, that the tension between n~weconomic development pressures and traditional management methodswere resolved. They had simply been displaced into a new dispensationof power, but one in which European conservation models had had tosuffer a severe adaptation.

To a marked degree, I think, the environmental debate andstruggles ofthe 1890-1916 period in WestMrican history foreshadowed

In Nigeria, by contrast, the colonial government was briefly able,during the period between 1919 and 1939, to establish a more draconianforest conservation policy, thus incurring considerable localised resist­ance, particularly from women opposing reserve policies jointly con­cluded by male chiefs and colonial administrators.t' After 1945, how­ever, the situation was transformed by the influence of returning WestMrican troops, many ofthem thirsty for political change. Thus, NigerianGeological Survey staff during the early 1950s well knew that theirresearches and plans for conservation would only be tolerated in somedistricts; and they were forced to curtail their survey plans accordingly. 45

I

6

In most historical analyses of the colonial impact on indigenous ruralsocieties there has been until recently an almost exclusive preoccupationwith arable systems. The startling neglect ofthe non-arable landscape hasbeen unfortunate since, in many societies, the ability to exploit marginal,non-arable land and forest has been critical to survival and the capacityto do so has become steadily more constrained as resources have beendevoted to commodity production. Colonial rule has been particularlyimportant in this respect. Colonialism and its successor states havebrought about a transformation in the nature ofthe tenurial relationshipsbetween people, forest and other non-arable land. This has involved, inessence, a transition away from locally evolved man-land relationstowards direct private property ~tatus or to direct state control. Thesechanges have often involved a growing exploitation of the landscape forcommodity production and a corresponding erosion in customatycontrols and common property~ightsor conventions.' The ecologicaltransition has largely, although by no means exclusively, followed uponthe spread of a European capitalist system over the globe with thecorresponding penetration of a Western economic process beyond aswell as within the colonial context."

Colonial Conservation, EcologicalHegemony and Popular Resistance:

Towards a Global Synthesis

r:Ij

Ecology, Climate and Empire178

48 See O. Omosini, 'Alfred Moloney and his strategies for economic development inLagos colony and hinterland, 1886-1891',Journal ofthe Historical Society o/Nigeria,7(1975), pp. 657-677;.Omosini, 'Background to the forestry legislation', 'The rubberexporter trade'; Egboh, 'Background to the forestry legislation'.

49 See Chapter 6.

in Sub-Saharan Mrica outside Nigeria'" and the bounds of the whitesettler states ofSouthAfrica, Southern Rhodesia, Tanganyika and Kenyais still very much in its infancy. .'

In much of South Asia and southern and eastern Africa it isprobably true that the failure of the colonial state_ to heed indigenousvaluations and uses of the environment, as well as the failure of thecolonised population to effectively resist colonial land-use ambitions,meant that social pressures were stored up for what were eventually farmore explosive political outcomes, of the kind that finally provoked theMau-Mau rebellion in Kenya or the Naxalite revolts in post-independ­ence India", In the course ofsuch a storing-up ofstructural disadvantagethe possibility of the widespread application of indigenous knowledgeand the chances of a conservationist local response to the impact ofcapital penetration were often largely obliterated. By contrast the sub­stantially different pattern which prevailed in some parts of southernGold Coast and Nigeria set the scene, one might argue, for a morecreative context for the development of indigenous land-use methodsand tenures in the contemporary period.

I See Garret Hardin, 'The tragedy ofthe commons', Science, 162 (1968), pp. 1243--48.

2 For a broad analysisofthe kinds ofenvironmental changes that have followed the spreadof Western industrial culture see T. Weiskel, 'The ecologieallessons of the past: ananthropology ofenvironmental decline', TheEcologist, 19 (1989), pp. 98-103. Weiskeldoes not consider the history or impact ofcolonial conservation.

I

180 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 181

This chapter is primarily concerned with the political economy ofWestern ecological systems, and the consequences of their extension tothe colonial periphery, particularly in forms of forest' conservation.However, it also seeks to underline the importance to the latter task ofunderstanding the evolution ofnew forms ofecological control, particu­larly at state level, at much earlier stages in the development of themercantile maritime states,at a time before the growing resourcedemands of these states were exported from Europe. While the mainemphasis is here upon the political economy of colonial forest and soilcontrols the societal response to other major forms ofecological interven­tion also deserves a more thorough examination than is possible here. Inparticular, the gazetting of game reserves, the enclosure of commongrazing lands, the draining ofm~rshlands,the destruction ofindigenousirrigation systems and the creation of new ones have all interacted in asignificant way with social change, social exclusion and the dynamics ofpopular protest. Until recently however too little has been known aboutthe minutiae of the relations between people and their environment toaddress historical problems in this fashion. Indeed, even in arable or non­forest contexts the ecological details ofdirect colonial intervention in theproduction process have received remarkably little attention,"

However, there is little doubt that it was in the imposition ofnewforms of land-designation, as between private and public and in theinterruption of customary methodologies of interaction with forest,pasture and soil that colonial states (and post-colonial states effecti~y

"modelled on them) have exercised the most intimate and often opp~ts-

siveimpact on the daily livesand waysofproduction ofthe rural majontythroughout much of the (especially tropical) world. This has beenimplicitly borne out by the apparent frequency ofepisodes of resistanceto this species of colonial impact that have taken place throughout the

3 There are some significant pioneers in this field, however, mainly among Africanisthistorians. See especially Christopher V. Hill, 'San thai bataidars in Purnia district:ecological evolution of a sharecropping system', Economic and Political Weekly, 22August 1987. For eastern Africasee H. Kjekjus, Ecology controlandeconomic developmentin EastAfticanhistory: thecase ofTanganyika 1850-1950 (London, 1977). For a valuablemicro-study seeE. C. Mandala, 'Capitalism, ecology and society: the Lower Shire valleyofMalawi, 1860-1960' (Ph.D. thesis, University ofMinnesota, 1983).

J

period ofthe expansion ofthe capitalist forms ofeconomic and politicalcontrol. It is the forms of colonial ecological control, particularly'conservation' structures and the circumstances of resistance to suchcontrol, that are the focus of this chapter." The complexities of theirpolitical role, I argue, have been very much underplayed.sRecent studiesofepisodes of,resistance'.particularly by the 'Subaltern School' ofIndianhistorians, have emphasised a largely autonomous notion of peasantresistance quite separate from the mainstream of the political economyof elitist resistance.f It would be easy to offer a critique of this view, inadvocating a 'rounded history' that integrates elitist and subalternapproaches. Instead the dynamic I wish to draw attention to relates to thecritical importance ofecological constraints in stimulating and guidingboth phases ofacquiescence and phases of ,resistance' to the developinginterventions of capital and the colonial state in the lives of a variety ofdifferent classesofindigenous rural people and, in some instances amongcolonial settlers themselves. To date, because ofthe lack ofconsiderationof the ecological context, the significant linkages and synchroneities, ona global scale, between these forms of resistance have been neglected."This task has now been given an added incentive and feasibility both bythe current environmental crisis in much of the tropics and by anemerging body of work on and understanding about the history and

4 This chapter is necessarily limited in geographical scope. The emphasis here is on theBritishcolonial context. Ideallycomparabl~developments in Lusophone and FrancophoneAfrica and in South America would nee~ to be considered more extensively.

5 However, see P. Blaikie, The political economy ofsoil erosion in developing countries(London, 1985), for a contemporary approach.

6 E.g., Ranajit Guha, Elementary aspects ofpeasantimurgency in ColonialIndia (Delhi,1983); and papers in the Subaltern Studiesseries (Volumes 1-5, Delhi, 1983-88).

7 See]. C. Scott, Weapomofthe weak: everydayfarms ofpeasantresistance (New Haven,Conn., 1985); and his The moral economy ofthe peasant: rebellion and subsistence insoutheastAsia (New Haven, 1979). Surprisingly, in both these major works Scott skirrsthe critical part played byecological pressures in guidingpeasantacrion. WhileM. Gadgiland R. Guha, in 'State forestty and social conflict in British India', Pastand Present, no.123 (1989), pp. 141-177, have attempted a pioneering India-wide analysis of theecological bases of social conflict, their conclusions have been distorted by an over­narrow geographical and temporal concentration. At another level, they have notunderstood the nature of the environmental anxieties and political motivations behindearly colonial conservarion policies.

182 Ecology, Climateand Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 183

mechanisms of colonial ecological change and control. Until recentlymost studies have been compartmentalised by sub-continent, state orcolony, particularly in the work ofStebbing, Brascamp '(the pioneer inthe field)," Tucker, Gadgil and Guha in South Asia and Stebbing andBeinart in Southern Mrica.9 In my own work I have recently attemptedto stress the global common denominators ofmethodologies ofcolonialecological control as they have developed over the three centuries sinceabout 1640 and the synchroneity in the emergence ofscientific rationalesfor control. It has become clear that the technical and colonial discoursesof conservation have operated for much longer than is often realised,throughout the imperial context, This phenomenon alone, I think, helpsand in fact demands an equivalent inspection of modes of popularresponse to the effects of that discourse. 10 One can now begin to exposethe extraordinary vigour with which conservation programmes, inparticular, were pursued after the early nineteenth century, and tounderstand the technical agendas and powerful motivations behindthese programmes. Principal among these motives were a deep insecurityabout the prospects for the long-term survival of the colonial state anda deep anxiety about the consequences ofclimatic change and environ­mental deterioration.

Both these concerns were particularly prevalent in India andsouthern Africa between about 1835 and 1880. From a present-dayviewpoint the latter anxiety, now very familiar, but whose antecedent~oback to the mid-seventeenth century, might be thought to have haetftsmerits, particularly in view of current preoccupations with notions~f

• See Brascarnp's articles in TijdschriftvoorIndische TaalLand en Volkekunde, all issues1921-31.

9 E.P. Stebbing, ThefOrests ofIndia (3 vols, Edinburgh, 1922); Theforest: ofWestAfticaand the Sahara: a studyofmodernconditions (London, 1937); Gadgil and Guha, 'Statepolicy and social conflict'; R. Tucker, 'The depletion of India's forests under Britishimperialism: planters, foresters and peasants in Assam and Kerala', in D. Worster, ed.,Theendsoftheearth:essays in environmentalhistory(Cambridge, 1988), pp. 118-141. Seealso papers in D. Anderson and R. Grove, Conservation in Africa:people, policies andpractice(Cambridge, 1987).

10 See Chapter 3, also R.H. Grove, Greenimperialism: colonial expansion. tropicalislandEdensand the origins ofenvironmentalism, 1600-1860 (Cambridge, 1995), and 'Earlythemes in African conservation: the Cape Colony in the nineteenth century', inAnderson and Grove, Conservation in Africa, pp. 21-39. I

I

sustainable development.'! Significantly, however, the conservationstructures which evolved from early notions of the limitability ofresourceswere frequently just as destructive or oppressive in their effectson indigenous societies as direct ecological destruction and appropria­tion ofenvironments and common rights by private capital. The vigourand extent ofthe resistance movementswhich rose to these new forms ofecological control both deserve their own narrative and may serve as anobject lesson for more contemporary advocates of conservationist pre­scriptions to global environmental problems.

Colonial ecological interventions, especially in deforestation andsubsequently in forest conservation, irrigation and soil 'protection',exercised a far more profound influence over most people than the moreconspicuous and dramatic aspects ofcolonial rule that have traditionallypreoccupied historians. Over the period 1670 to 1950, very approxi­mately, a pattern of ecblogical power relations emerged in which theexpandingEuropean states acquired a global reach over natural resourcesin terms of consumption and then, too, in terms of political andecological control. 12 It is tempting to conceptualise this process in termsof the 'European system' set out by Immanuel Wallerstein, 13 However,in some respects, the notion of a European-centred system fails as anexplanatorydevice, particularly in Western India and WestMrica, whereseveral indigenous states are now known to have developed extensivesystems ofecological control and sfate resource monopoly.l" Instead it is

II. For.a global appro~ch to the history Jf ideas about climate and artificially inducedclimatic change and risk see C. Glacken, Traces on the Rhodian shore: attitudes to naturefrom classical times to 1800 (Berkeley, 1967).

12 For some details of this see R. Tucker andJ.F. Richards, Globaldejorestation and theworld economy (Durham, NC, 1983); and D. Albion, Forests and British seapotoer,(Cambridge, Mass., 1926).

13 1. Wallerstein, The modern world system: capitalistagriculture and the origins oftheEuropean world economy in the 16th century(New York, 1972).

14 For details of pre-colonial afforestation and control seeK. Pelzer, PioneersettlementintheAsiatic tropics: studiesin land-useand agriculturalcolonisation in SoutheastAsia (NewYork, 1948). The forest management systems ofthe Maratha state and the TravancoreCoc~i~ an? Malabar rajas are still a largely uninvestigated field. In Yorubaland a majo;transrnon III state forest control took place during the 1830s when the Ibadan statedecr~ed that the forest belts that traditionally surrounded cities were no longer required;TOYIll Faiola, personal communication.

15 See Grove, Green imperialism, ch.8.

possible to postulate a periodised model which is relatively simple instructure and which, between 1670 and 1935, resulted in the incorpo­ration ofmuch ofthe forest and non-arable land ofthe ~~rld under twomain control systems. These were developed first on tropical islands andthen in India (largelyin forest control) and SouthAfrica and the southernUnited States (largely in soil conservation). By the beginning of thetwentieth century the Indian model had become dominant, and waschallenged only completely in Anglophone Mrica by North Americannotions ofsoil control and a game-reserve ideology. In FrenchMrica andSouth East Asia a forest system very dose to the Indian model prevailed.In main taining this dominant pattern a coterie ofhighly mobile scientificexperts, again dominated by Indian colonial expertise, steadily grew ininfluence.

At least three essential kinds ofmotivation in the construction ofcolonial agendas for conservation need to be considered. Firstly, one isdealing with notions of control and with the wish to appropriateresources first for private capital and then for the needs ofthe state. Theselast two have not alwaysconstituted identical interests. In fact, in the longterm the environmental concerns of the state have tended to be atvariance with short-term capital interests. In this way ecological con­straints have thus had an exceptional impact on what one is accustomedto think ofas the economic priorities ofthe colonial state. Secondly, oneis concerned with the emerging interest of states in preventingjorlocalising environmental degradation or climatic change that wo~threaten their economic or political viability, either directly throu$hthreatening production in drought periods or indirectly through thesocial disorder which drought and famine might incur." A third moti­vation, and by no means an insignificant one, relates to motives ofaesthetic or ritual concern. Particularly during the period 1660-1860 atleast part of the early development of colonial environmental concernwas connected with the mental location of'Edens' and 'Paradises' withinvarious parts of the tropical landscape. At first this imposition ofdesiredenvironment was limited to paradisal or utopian perceptions of tropicalisland environments. Later, however, such idealist and, indeed, 'oriental-

16See Grove, Green imperialism; and]. Prest, TheGarden ofEden: therecreation ofparadisein thebotanicgarden (New Haven, Conn., 1981) for discussion ofEdenic constructionsofnature; for an analysis of the history and ideology of colonial game preservation see].MacKenzie, The empire ofnature: hunting, conservation and Britishimperialism (Man­chester, 1989).

185Towards a Global Synthesis

ist', notions became bound up closely with perceptions of the 'tropical'in general and with taxonomies of natural history and concerns aboutspecies rarity in particular. During the nineteenth century the emergenceofan ambiguous philosophyofgame reservation combined such 'Edenic'constructions with a more blatantly class-orientated interest in retaininglarge animal species for exclusive European delectation, for commercialprofit or for recreational hunting purposes." The overarching process,however, was characterised by a process ofdrawing lines and boundaries.These both articulated the new assertion of control and arrogated theecological realm to the state. In the case of the forest reserve the case for, ,

state control was very significantly strengthened by the co-option of thearguments ofscientists and early conservationists. Without massive stateintervention, these arguments ran, climatic and environmental cata­clysm might result. Effectively then, the increased credibility accorded tostate science gave the colonial state carte blanche and a vast new role inclaiming control and justifying its stewardship over non-arable land. Bythe 1890s in India this new role reached an extraordinary degree ofdevelopment, with up to 30 per cent of the area of some provincescoming under forest department control. A broad sociological analysis ofthe impact of this process is long overdue, although not within the scopeof this chapter. This kind ofstate intervention was highly contradictoryin nature. In particular it was relatively hostile to the profit-maximisingactivities ofprivate capital in timber production and to expansion in thearea of arable land. Instead the state and science collaborated in re­shaping the landscape according; to a particular new set of 'scientific'agendas. I

However, not all the motivations involved were scientific or evenimmediately economic. For example, it is now becoming dear that theorigins of the colonial game or forest 'reserve' and the concept of the'native reserve' were functionally and politically interrelated, particularly

Ecology, Climate and Empire184

, I

186 Ecology, Climateand Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 187

in Southern Africa, central India and the western United States. I? Giventhe great expansion in the land-control ambition of the Europeanempires during the colonialperiod it is surprising that scholars who haveexplored the symbolism ofboundary-making have tended to neglect the .influence of forest and land boundaries on the pre-colonial patterns ofsocial life in forest, pasture or arable land. A part of the explanation forthis may lie in the general absence ofmuch significant research upon.pre­existing systems of environmental knowledge and indigenous environ­mental religion, as well the general failure, by historians at least, toinvestigate the dynamics of the social relations between pre-industrialman and his ecological constraints. Some recent micro-studies, mainlyin Africa, are notable exceptions to this general rule. These are beginningto show that Golden Age notions of pre-colonial 'common rights' and'common property resources' are largely mythical. Instead, higWy com­plex ecological power relations often subsisted by which those in author­ity sought to retain or reinforce their power in terms of their claims toparticular parts ofnature. These were sometimes sanctioned by particu­lar environmental cosmologies and religious beliefs.!" Only when thisarea of neglect begins to be substantially filled will one really be able toexpect a thorough understanding of the social effects of the confronta­tion between emergent colonial ecological or conservationist systemsand the social lives of the people upon whom they were imposed. Untilthat time, it may be suggested, discussions will normally be confine,~:to

defining the nature ofcolonial discourses ofscience, nature and co~r­

vation and to the fairly empirical reporting of episodes of resistanc~ornon-resistance to the practical impact ofcolonial ecological interventionin local society.'?

17 See Chapter 3 for the working of this functional connection.

18 E.g., Jack Stauder, The Majangir: ecology and society ofa Southwest Ethopian people(Cambridge, 1971). An important recent attempt to investigate 'indigenous conserva­tion' and its connections with environmental aspects of religious belief in detail is B,B.Mukarnuri, 'Local environmental conservation strategies: Karanga religion, politics andenvironmental control', EnuironmentandHistory, 1 (1995), pp. 297-311. See alsoA.H.Pike, 'Soil conservation among the Matenge tribe', Tanzania Notes and Records, No.6(1938), pp. 79-81.

19 See A. L. Stoler, 'Rethinking colonial categories: European communities in Sumatraand the boundaries of rule', Comparative Studies in Society and History, 1 (1989), pp.

The Evolution of Systems of Ecological Control andConservationism, 1200-1960

The major shift from common property to private or state control wasnot exclusively confined to the colonial context after 1600. The begin­nings of this process can be identified very much earlier, particularly inthe internal colonialisms of Britain, France and Japan. Significantly, itwas in the process ofconquest that the Normans imposed new notionsoffeudal control in England, marking offgreat tracts ofland for the king.This imposition involved the re-inventing or fabrication ofa tradition ofroyal tutelage over forest and waste land which had never existed in SaxonEngland or had only done so in the very loosest and relatively non­controversial terms.P Despite high rates of deforestation in sixteenth­century England, it was not until the reign of Charles I that the stateattempted to intervene again so extensively in forest control. Even thenattempts made by the king to secure firmer control over forests took placemore for the sake of his own business interests than on behalf of stateneeds. Nevertheless, the increased interest shown by the state at thisperiod in carving up and improving marshland and forest reflects a moregeneralised development taking place in Europe at the period in whichincreased appropriation oforganisms, parts of the environment, societyand even the individual person were signalled by a whole variety ofmethodologies ofboundary-making and classification. In the Fen-landsof eastern England large-scale capital-intensive drainage projects wereembarked upon, while new ideas.about furmalised and efficient ways oflaying out land after drainage were developed." As far as English forestswere concerned the fall ofCharles I marked at least a temporary end tosuch projects, many ofwhich had provoked extensive political opposi­tion at a variety of levels. In essence, the availability of capital and newmarket demands for raw materials meant that such programmes had to

134--61. In this connection, Stoler notes, quoting Mernrni, that 'colonialism createsboth the coloniser and the colonised'. In forest terms, this can certainly be applied. Therigidity ofcolonialist land-use categories was not to be found in contemporary England.

20 J.e. Cox, The royalforest: ofEngland (London, 1905).

21 R.H. Grove, 'Cressey Dymockand the drainingofthe Fens', The Geograpbicalfournal,147 (1981), pp. 27-38.

188 Ecology, Climateand EmpireTowards a GlobalSynthesis 189

be transferred elsewhere. It meant, for example, that the failure of the~ommon:,ealth and then the Restoration state to develop a forest policyInternally In England (although there was a different and more colonialdeforestation story in Scotland) led to the development of a huge andrigidly defined forest reserve system in New England after 1691 organ­ised under a Surveyor-General." When this system broke down after1776 the same concept was transferred, very loosely at first, to westernIndia." In France, in contrast, where the state was faced with the sameproblem of strategic naval timber supply, a form of internal forestcolonialism developed first under Colbert in the framework ofthe ForestOrdinance of 1669 with the creation of Departernents des Eaux etFor~ts.2~ ,

Until about 1770, then, the objectives of the continental systemsof ecological control were strictly related to naval timber requirementsand the other lesser raw material needs of the imperial despotisms. Asimilar rationale dictated .the forest policies of the expanding Marathasystem after about 1710.25 While these objectives remained importantuntil about 1850, other quite different and innovatory forest manage­ment considerations were also emerging in the early eighteenth century,although at first only in the early oceanic .island colonies. These origi­nated in a kind ofenvironmental concern which had not been importantin Europe." The experience ofintroducingEuropean plantation systems

~22 J.]' Malone, Pine trees and politics: the naval stores andforest policy in colonia~~ewEngland, 1691-1775 (Oxford, 1966). A parallel development took place in the ~tchcontext. The first formal colonial forest reserve system was set up in Java in the midseventeenth century. In this sense, the need to find alternate sources of timber for thegrowing Dutch economy was even more urgent than in England or France. See P.Boomgard, 'The Dutch colonial forest system in Java after 1650' in J. Dargavel, ed.,ChangingtropicalfOrests (Canberra, 1989).

23 Grove, Green imperialism.

24 J.e. Brown, The French Forest Ordinanceof1669 (London, 1879).

25 For details of this see Reportofthe BombayForest Commission, vol. 1 (1887), pp 22­30.

26 Grov~, Gree~ imperia/i~m. The critical importance of the colonial island periphery in~ro~otmg notions of environmental anxieryisan ideasignallyomitted byKeith ThomasIn his survey of the development ofenvironmental ideas at this period in Man and thenatural world(London, 1983).

I

on islands such as Barbados and St Helena quickly gave rise to therealisation that rapid environmental degradation was taking place. Thissoon led; in turn, to the idea ofpreventative control, so that formal forestreservation and soil erosion prevention measures became a part ofthe roleofthe colonial state in Barbados and otherWest Indian islands after 1670and on St Helena in 1709. Similar developments took place in Japan inthe late seventeenth century." Here too, forest protection was begunwith the express purpose of preventing soil erosion. Allied to rhis newnotion was the re-emergence among European natural philosophers andcolonial settlers of a 'desiccation' theory linking deforestation withrainfall change and generalised climatic change." This theory, which hadlain dormant since its first formulation by Theophrastus in ClassicalGreece, was revived between about 1590 and 1700. It has now beenconfirmed as a valid theory, to some extent, by recent findings about thenature of the carbon dioxide cycle and by micro-climate studies in theAmazon basin.

Mter 1767 the desiccation theory provided the main motivationbehind the introduction ofa forest reservation system in Mauritius underthe new Physiocratic regime which had been installed on the island at thebehest of the Due de Choiseul, after the collapse of the Compagnie desIndes.ltwas thus in Mauritius that a new kind ofrationale for state forestcontrol was first elaborated and put into practice as the earliest exampleof a system that was to become global in application. The systemdeveloped on St Helena also played an important linking role in thisdevelopment. The East India Company first became aware of thedesiccation theory in about 1784 and embarked on a deliberate pro­gramme of tree planting in St Helena to counter the climatic threat thatwas believed to exist. By 1836 it was thought that this programme hadbeen successful in reversing a decline in rainfall. The observations on thissubject made by DrJ.D. Hooker, later Director ofKew Gardens, becamea major factor in promoting the introduction of forest conservancy inIndia after 1847.29 .

27 R.S. Troup, Colonialforestadministration (Oxford, 1940), P: 446.

28 Grove, Green imperialism.

29 Ibid.

190 Ecology, Climateand Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 191

The environmental consequences of a colonial agrarian systemfirst made themselves clearly felt on islands, where the notion ofwidespread desiccation provided a very compelling argument for stateintervention. However the logic of the desiccation argument was notapplied in Africa or India until the 1840s. The relative delay in thediffusion of the technical notion of desiccation can be partly explainedby the initial shortage ofecological information and by the fact that evenwhere deforestation was very rapid, as it was in Western India between1815 and 1840, the consequences only gradually became apparent.Instead an indirect consequence of deforestation, the silting of majorriver estuaries and ports, provided the first hard evidence to whichscientists could point in attempts to gain state intervention.

From as early as the 1770s one can also start to trace theinvolvement ofprofessional scientists with their own agendas, and withan increasingly powerful technocratic hold over the colonial state,unparalleled in Europe. Indeed, the very concept ofa'state scientist' wasone that first emerged in the conditions ofthe colonial periphery, ratherthan in the European metropolitan context." The combination ofunpredictable physical conditions and a powerful state apparatus intimi­dated by the thought ofsocial unrest meant that a relativelysmall numberof scientists were able to wield a great deal of practical control overcolonial land-use policy, although much earlier in French than Britishterritories. This culminated, during the period 1837-47, in a prqtf... ss bywhich a handful ofscientists in the East India Company medical'rvicewere able to propagandise connections between deforestation, d~ughtand the threat ofeconomic and social breakdown. These ideaswere basedlargely on the writings ofAlexander von Humboldt, whose work at thisperiod was becoming frequently quoted in the new Indian scientificjournals. They proved sufficiently convincing to coerce the East IndiaCompany into initiating a rigid forest conservation policy of a kindwhich it had, until that time, consistently resisted. An essential elementofthis new policy consisted in the systematic exclusion ofprivate timberinterests from the state forest reserves." Furthermore, a growing alliance

30 Ibid.

31 Ibid.

between navy and medical lobbies, with their own priorities, made thecasefor state forest control irresistible. The mindset ofthe critical decadebetween 1837 and 1847 deserves close attention since the programmeevolved at that time became a model for forest conservation throughoutmost of the rest of the imperial context. It was a policy which served asa cover for a complex agenda. This included aesthetic notions, speciesdepletion concerns, public health worries, fear offamine, fear oftimbershortage, fear ofdrought and above all fear ofcatastrophic regional andcontinental climatic change. ~2 Itwas the ability to articulate convincinglythe latter possibility (with all it meant, to borrow the terminology ofMary Douglas, in terms of death, money and time) that was mostimportant in policy terms even though at later stages the desirability ofthe colonial state being able to guarantee a sustainable supply of timberfor itselfbecame more frequently voiced asa motive for monolithic forestreservation.P Moreover, the colonial social critique of tribal forestpeoples was already becoming extensive in the 1840s. 34When environ­mental damage started to be seen as a product of the agrarian systems ofthe forest dwellers, the environmental critique helped to reinforceexisting social prejudice, and viceversa. It is no coincidence that politicalpressure for serious ecological controls in forest areas in India built up atthe same time, in the late 1830s, as early 'tribal' anthropology began,35and as pioneering attempts were made to curb female infanticide andprevent Meria sacrifice. The development of scientific rationales forforest protection helped, too, Jo justifY the drive to gather informationon the tribes. Moreover, forest policy and tribal policy were both seen atthis time as necessarily involving the geographical demarcation of'reserves' both to exclude unwanted elements and economic activities,and to control others.

One early result of this mixed social agenda, which developedalongside simpler environmental fears, was an early preoccupation with

32 Ibid.

33 M. Douglas, 'Environments at risk', in Essays in theSociology ofperception (London,I~~. .

34 E.g., seeJohn Wilson, An anthropology ofthetribes ofWestern India (Bombay, 1846).

35 Ibid.; and F. Padel, 'The evolution of the colonial discourse on the tribes ofIndia,1800-1947', (D. Phi!. thesis, Oxford University, 1988).

36 F~r a useful survey of the effects of shifting cultivation see P. Vitebsky, 'Policydilemmas for unirrigated agriculture in Sri Lanka: a social anthropological report onshifting and semi-permanent agriculture in an area ofMane ragaladistrict', Report to theODA, London, 1984.

37 Alexander Gibson, appointed the first Conservator of the Bombay Forest Service in1847, soon discovered that the opposition of timber merchants and landowners to forestconservation was so effective that he had to restrict himself to seeking controls onprobably the least damaging set of forest-clearers, the shifting cultivators. However, healso pioneered the official concept of the 'village forest', a Forest Department categori­sation significantly abandoned later in the century.

38 H. Cleghorn, The[arest» and gardens ofSouth India (Edinburgh, 1861).

39 Reportofthe Bombay Forest Commission, vol.I (l887), pp. 22-30.

critiques ofshifting cultivators and their agronomies during the 1840s,

a critique which quickly developed into an obsession. In part, shiftingcultivation was an inherently autonomous activity whose participantswere not easily amenable to social control. Local terminologies for theactivity, such asjhum Of koomri, were soon adopted to colonial catego­ries.They could easily(and, from scientific hindsight, generally wrongly)be faulted in environmental terms/" Furthermore, particularly in thefirst two decades ofthe Bombay Conservancy in 1847-67, the activitiesofshifting cultivators presented a much softer political target than the farmore damaging activities of timber operators with their allies in highplaces.V Even so, in these first two decades the basic needs ofvillagers inand near forests were taken int? account far more sympathetically thanwas later the case. Hugh Cleghorn in particular (a medical surgeonappointed Inspector-General to the Madras Forest Service in 1856)developed astrikingchange ofheart in his attitudes to shifting cultivationduring the 1850s; so that during this period he tended to overlook orpermit extant shifting cultivation, transferring his critique instead to thedepredations ofillegal commercial fellers, plantation owners and railwaybuilders." In general the powers of the Bombay Forest Department,which the state attempted to legitimate on Maratha precedents, were fartoo weak to prevent continuing and rapid deforestation.l? It was thisrealisation that helped to bring about the far more oppressive regimes ofthe post-1865 period, when German forestry 'science' replacedjtheMaratha, Scottish and French methods which had been favoured ea~erand which continued to be important in the Madras Presidency. ~e

40 The first two decades of state forest conservation policy have been set aside in theanalysisby M. Gadgil and R. Guha, in 'State forestry and social conflict'. One reason forthis is that the climatic risk rationale for the precocious foundation ofthe Bombay ForestDepartment cannot easily be adapted to the simplistic nationalist critique ofstate forestcontrol which these authors adopt. A more rigoroushistory would reveal the need for aless doctrinaire analysis than that set out by Gadgil and Guha.

41 See Chapter 3.

42 Grove, 'Early themes in African conservation'.

43Cleghorn, Forests and gardens ofSouth India.

44 J. W. Thirgood, Man and theMediterranean forest(London, 1981). See also articlesin all issues of Revuedeseaux etftrets, of 1877.

193Towards a GlobalSynthesis

basic infrastructure for forest conservation was in place, however, wellbefore 1865. 40 Similar developments took place at the Cape, where thenotion ofthe forest reservehad become avery convenient vehicle for statesocial control." Early conservation programmes at the Cape failed whenstate conservationists started to promulgate the unpopular view that theactivities ofEuropean farmers were as important in explaining environ­mental deterioration as the activities of Mrican farmers.P This was apoint made too by Cleghorn in connection with the activities ofEuropean planters who were, however, a much weaker lobby in Indiathan were settler farmers at the Cape.P

From 1872 methods of forest conservation developed in Mauri­tius, the Cape and India on the one hand and Algeria on the other weretaken on in one colony after another, as well as outside the colonialempires. As a result of their pioneering work in France and Algeriascientists of the French forest service were invited to advise on the forestadministration of the Ottoman Empire. These experts visited andreported on:, for example, in 1872. 44 This transfer ofthe colonial forestcontrol system from regional sub-bases to a global context was achievedmainly during the period 1870-1920. Some individual scientists standout as having played a disproportionately influential part in this process:Hugh Cleghorn, D.E. Hutchins and H.H. Thompson being cases inpoint. Between them, they set up or reorganised the forest conservationsystems of dozens ofcolonial territories. As early technical or 'develop­ment' consultants employed on a ~orld-wide basis, they encouraged theimposition of a relatively homogeneous ecological ideology that lasteduntil the end of the colonial period, particularly in South East Asia,

Ecology, Climateand Empire192

194 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a Global Synthesis 195

throughout sub-Saharan Mrica and in Central America. 45 Even theUnited States Forest Department owed much to the Indian model priorto the era ofprogressivist conservation." However, although the Frenchand Indian models of management became dominant, other colonialtechnical models also emerged. In southern Mrica the more locally'derived conservationist ideology ofDr John Croumbie Brown with histechnical emphasis on grass-burning prevention and irrigation develop­ment became influential, especially in SouthAfrica and RhodesiaYMterthe 1920s the influence of the American dustbowl philosophy becamemore widespread among colonial officials, a development that can berelated in part to the increased intervention ofWhitehall in ecologicalmatters, the waning influence ofIndian expertise in Mrica and the lackofemphasis in Indian colonial conservation thinking on pastoral and soilerosion problems." However the didactic manner in which soil conser­vation policies were pursued in the period 1930-55 in Anglophone

45 One of the first exports of Indian forest service expertise was represented by theenlistment ofG. Storr-Lister in the Cape Forest Department in 1875. Cleghorn visitedand gaveadviceabout Cyprus during the 1870s. D. E. Hutchins, formerly ofthe MadrasForest Department, was taken on by the Eastern Cape Conservancy in 1881 and also

. reported on the Cyprus forests in 1889. Indian and Cape forest officialswere employedto advise on policy in the following territories: Cyprus (1879, 1909,1930); Mauritius(1880, 1903); Jamaica (1886); British Honduras (1886); Tobago (1887); Trinidad(1887); Leeward Islands (1887); Antigua (1888); Malaya (1900); Southern Rh~desia

(1896,1902); Gold Coast, (1908); Uganda (1912); Kenya (1922); Northern Rh~ia(1927); Tanganyika (1930). Forest officers from India were seconded in B9tishHonduras, Ceylon, Gold Coast, Kenya, Malaya, Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Trin~ad,

Uganda and Burma among other territories (Troup, Colonialforest administration; thisis by no means an exhaustive list).

46 See Grove, Green imperialism; F.B. Hough, ed., 'Report of the Committee on thePreservation ofForests', House Report no. 259, 1stSession,43rd Congress, WashingtonDC, 1874. Hough makes specific reference to the precedent set by the Madras ForestService.Similarly,Hugh Cleghorn was influential on the work ofGeorge Perkins Marsh,an early ideologue ofAmerican conservationism.

47 The 'Forest and Herbage Protection' Acts ofthe Cape Colonywere simply transferredwithout alteration to Southern Rhodesia, much as Indian Forest Law was transferreddirectly to Natal and the Gold Coast. T.R. Sim, conservator of the Eastern Cape and adisciple ofJohn Croumbie Brown, conducted one ofthe first surveysof and reported onpolicy for the Rhodesian forests in 1902.

48 For an analysis of the impact of American 'dustbowl' conservation ideologies insouthern Africa seeW. Beinart, 'Soil erosion, conservationism and ideas about develop-

Mrica led, as had happened in India, to the imposition of land controlpolicies which often involved a forced-labour component and other lessdirect forms ofcoercion, and policies which in political terms were evenmore provocative.t?

The Social Response to Colonial Conservation and other EcologicalInterventions

'Famine always lies at the bottom of an insurrection,' Louis Madelinwrote ofrural France in 1789. Behind most rural resistance movementsin the colonial context has lain a threat to a margin ofecological survival,a margin nurtured through years of custom and experience. However,ecological controls imposed in the metropolitan as well as the colonialstates have often caused discontent among a whole variety ofclassesandgroups and not simply among 'tribals' or 'peasants'. Indeed SumirSarkar's notion ofa'primitive rebellion' isvery difficult to sustain in thiscontext.l"

Instead, many low-level movements responding to ecologicaltrauma have, on the contrary, been highly complex in the sensitivity oftheir response and in the shifting nature of their allegiances. Suchresistance movements have not been confined to particular classes.Rather, they have frequently involved 'baronial', bourgeois or land­owning resisters as well as subsistence resisters; and occasionally, as inWynaad, Kerala, in 1805, or th~ Bombay Presidency in the 1870s,strategic alliances between the two. The connections between notions ofecological survival and threats td spiritual and cultural order or well­being have often been very sigpificantY Partly for this reason the

ment: a Southern African exploration 1900-1960' ,journalofSouthern AfricanStudies,11 (1984), pp. 52-83.

49 There is as yet no satisfactory overall history offorest and soil conservation policy foreither colonial Africa or India. .

50 Sumit Sarkar, 'Primitive rebellion and modern nationalism: a note on forest satyagrahain the non-cooperation and civil disobedience movements', in K.N. Panikkar (ed.),Nationaland LeftMovements in India (New Delhi, 1986).

51 Similarly, post-SecondWorld environmental movements in Europe, India and NorthAmerica have involved awhole range ofpeasant/working-class/middle-classlintelligent­sia alliances as well as alliances between notions of physical and 'spiritual' survival.

52 B.N. Woo~, 'Mrican peasant terrorism and Augustine's political thought', in F.Krantz, ed.,Historyftom below: studies inpopularprotestandpopularideology in honourofGeorge Rude (Montreal, 1985).

53 Cox, Royalforests, p. 6.

involvement of millenial, religious or totemic .movements has oftenprovided a central uniting influence and motivating force behindecological resistance movements. This has .long been the case. Forexample, in some. of the earliest recorded 'resistance movements toimperial ec~logicaldispositions, in the Roman Empire, the dispossessionof pastoralist and peasant farmers in Tunisia by colonial plantation

~ettlers.p~oduced its ~~n ;igo~ous counter-movement, inspired by a.D~n~tJst cult ofChr~stJamty.5 The material on such early movementsIS limited. Far more IS known, however, about the social context ofpeasant ~esistance to ~eudal notions offorest control in medieval Europeand particularly medieval England, where population growth increasedpressure on marginal common property resources. Furthermore the'b~ronial' cla~ses also found post-Conquest forest policies oppressive. Inthis conne~tJon, the ~orest Charter of 1217 which followed MagnaC~r~a was Import~nt In the sense that it started a process whereby thea.bIh.ty of the state In England to curtail customary forest rights becamesignificantly constrained in comparison to other parts ofEurope or the

I lonial . 53ear y co om .empires. In 1215 King John was compelled to agree, byone of the articles ofMagna Carta, to the 'disafforesting' ofall the landsofcountry which had been'made forest' during his reign. By the Charterof1217 it was provided that all the forests which Henry II had afforestedshould be 'viewed by good and lawful men' and that all that had beenmade forest, other than his own royal demesne, was forthwit1» to bedeforested. In accordance with this Charter special perambulation~ereordered to be made before 1224-25 by twelve knights elected f4r thepurpose to ensure compliance with the Charter.

Widespread de~orestationin connection with rises in population,state-sponsored c~lomsation, state-building and urbanisation in manyparts of the world In the early 'medieval' period after aboutAD1200 hasfrequently involved the progressive over-running of 'forest tribes' inplaces as far apart aseastern Germany or the Gangetic plain. For example,many of the wars between the Hindu and non-Hindu groups in India

54 C. Marsh, Churchill College, Cambridge, personal communication. This materialemerged in the course of Dr Marsh's work on the 'Family of Love' communities inHuntingdonshire.

55 B. Sharp, In contempt ofall authority: ruralartisans and riots in the WestofEngland,1586--1660(Berkeley, 1980).

56 The 'resistance' here consisted mainly in bank-breaking and widespread crop burning,asat Epworth, Lincolnshire, in 1645; K. Lindley, Penlandriots and theEnglish Revolution(London, 1982).

were specifically framed in terms of disputes about political control offorest regions, where expanding and disforesting states have encounteredresistance from groups trying to prevent encroachment. In England, theearly phase ofresistance to the growing ecological dominance ofthe stateand major landowners which had subsequently diminished in the wakeof the population decline caused by the Black Death, only reallyrecommenced with the abrupt liquidity ofthe land market occasioned bythe dissolution ofthe monasteries. This defacto privatisation threatenedcommon rights in many areas. In Huntingdonshire in 1569, for exam­ple, the extinction of woodland rights by a new owner led to severalviolent clashes and the subsequent intervention ofthe Chancellor in thedispute on the side of the common-right holders and against thelandowner. 54 Such popular opposition to state intervention intensifiedduring the period between 1580 and 1660, particularly as the richergentry sought to impose closer control over woodlands in westernEngland. Increases in availability offloatingcapital and the simultaneousemergence ofthe early joint-stock com panies gave rise, after about 1600,to extensive land-development projects both domestically, in EasternEngland, aswell as in the West Indies and as part ofEast India Companyplantation activity, all ofwhich involved large-scale ecological and socialimpacts and which quickly provoked local resistance." In the Fenlandprolonged local resistance to the Merchant Venturers' drainage projectswas a natural consequence of the considerable trauma which suchschemes implied to long-established grazing regimes and commonrights.56 Indeed this opposition w~s so effective and prolonged, particu­larly in areas such as the Isle ofAxhJlme, that it constituted a major factorin the distribution ofsupport for the Parliamentary interest during thecivil war, while the 'projectors' .themselves generally supported the

-1"'I

II

197Towards a Global SynthesisEcology, Climate and Empire196

198 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a Global Synthesis 199

Royalist cause. Furthermore on severaloccasions Cromwell himselfwentso far as to activelyand specificallychampion the cause ofthe commonersin the Fens. At another level, Lilburne, Wildm~n, 'and other Levellersbe~ame involved at various stages with the 'ahtiprojector' fen drainageresisters, Large-scale enclosure ofpreviously commonable fens fell intothe same category as ship money and other expedients which under­mined properry rights and demonstrated absolutist tendencies in centralgovernment. Considerations ofsocial justice and harmonyswiftly evapo­rated if they conflicted with fiscal imperativesY The problem did notend, ofcourse, with the fall of the King. Instead, the seizure ofRoyalistland during the Commcmwealth period provoked an earlyexcursion intoplanning for state naval tim~er reservesalongside major rivers in the late1640s. However, these efforts aswell as related attempts to acquire closerstate control over naval timber in the Forest of Dean quickly sparkeddisturbances among the very commoners who constituted such anessential part of the political constituency of the Commonwealth. Eventhe Restoration state could not politically afford to ride roughshod overthis interest group. In this way, by about 1685, effective large-scale stateintervention in forest control came to be abandoned domestically by theEnglish state.58

57 Lindley, FenlandRiots. Camden, in Britain (1637), asserted that the fenmen were 'akin~ ofpeople according to the nature of the place where they dwell, rude, un4yil, andenvious to allothers, whom they call Uplandmen' .Another writer in 1629 noted;?hat the'generality oft~e fen peopl~ ~ere very poor, lazy, given to much fishing and idl~ess '"very much agalnsr the draining because they found their conditions should be worse,which thing was abour impossible' (Lindley, p. 2). Such a belittling discourse paved theway for the drainage developers to ignore the interests of the fenmen, a rype of use of'ethnological' discourse which later capitalist manipulators oflandscape in the colonialcontext were also quick to adopt.

58 J Thirs~ (ed.), Theagr~rian history ofEnglandand Wales, vol, V.ii (Cambridge, 1985),p. 376. Riots broke our In 1680 and 1688 in the Forest ofDean even though far moreparliamentary time was spent discussing the Forest ofDean than any other royal forest;C.E. Hart, The commoners ofDean Fomt,(Gloucester, 1951), pp. 52-71,74-5. Theproblem did not end there, however. A century later renewed pressure to enclose Deanfor ~he state both for timber and coal led to episodes ofactive resistance culminating inthe Involvement ofthe Forest ofDean in the Captain Swing Revolt in 1831. The criticalrole played by this region in the Chartist agitations (for which several forest men weretried at Monmouth in 1841) can be traced back to forest grievances too. See R. Anstis,Warren Jamesand theDean Forest riots(Coalway, Glos., 1986).

Ironically, then, it was the relative success of sectional and low­level opposition to the growing ambitions of the state for internalecological control and for land-use 'planning' that led directly to the veryprecocious and geographically very extensive colonial forest policyembarked on in New England by the English after 1691.59 The fact thatthe French were not com pelled by successful popular protest to seek suchfresh resource fields at such an early date may explain much of the latersuperiority in British hold over global forest resources as a dynamicstrategic factor. However, colonial forest policy in New England also leddirectly to the loss of those colonies. It stoked the fires of settleropposition and nascent separatist tendencies in direct and non-directways. A whole sub-culture ofcivil disobedience was created from about1710 right through to 1776, in which forest regulations were continuallybroken by individual settler and timber interests alike, with the criticaland growing connivance ofthe colonial courts and much of the colonialestablishments.GO In this way, grievances over oppressive imperial forestpolicy became, effectively, as important as any other more short-termfactors in the development of the American Revolution, particularly inthe way in which an entire subversion of imperial legitimacy wasgenerated by the connivance of the legislative arm. Law-breaking, at aninsidious level,had been the norm for sixtyyears by 1776. The revolutionwas thus very much stimulated by the collusion and collaboration of avariety ofclassand commercial interests resisting colonial forest policy. 61

British assertion ofcontrol over fo~ests at the Cape, and then in Malabarand Burma, was a direct result of the loss of the North American sourceoftimber supply and the consequent strategic crisis in naval demand forraw materials in the context of the wars with the French between 1793and 1815.62

The French Revolution itself, in its rural and agrarian aspects, wasalso dynamically connected with the growing and vice-like grip of thestate and its rural allies over the common ecological rights of the

59 Malone, Pine trees and politics.

60 Ibid.

61 For a later account ofrural American resistance to state control seeJ.Garentin, Powerand powerlessness: quiescence and resistance in an Appalachian valley (Oxford, 1980).

62 See Grove, Green imperialism.

200 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a Global Synthesis 201

peasantry. However, the class dynamics of this conflict were ratherdifferent from the American situation although the context was arguablyequally colonial, a matter ofthe urban class interest extending a resourcesearch out into the countryside. The effects of this process were muchexacerbated by the monolithic character of Colbert's 1669 ForestOrdinance and the apparatus ofcontrol that went with it. This apparatusgrew steadily in power during the eighteenth century, assisted by thegrowing crisis over ship timber.

The steady erosion of the element ofmarginal land flexibility inFrance during the eighteenth century dramatically increased the vulner­ability of the peasantry to economic and climatic pressures. Regionalfuelwood shortages became acute, while the crop failures of the early1780s became especially significant. Both before and during the revolu­tion incendiarism and illegal wood-gathering became widespread weap­ons against the growing controls and shortages. 63 In some villagesin ruralsouth-west France long-running battles over common accessto marshes,woodlands and fishing rights were fought out between peasants andlandlords in the second halfofthe eighteenth century. R.B. Rose, in hisrecent study of Davenescourt has shown how the originally relativelyweak position of the peasantry in the guerres des arbres was criticallyredressed in the years after 1790.64 In the long term, the degree to whichthe majority ofthe population gained in these terms from the Revolutionis questionable. Initially relieved by the events of 1789-92 the ~~volu­

tion.eventually betrayed the ecological basic needs ofthe rural pea;\ntry,particularly as urban elements used the fluidity of the new situalFjon tofurther bolster their control over the countryside. Nevertheless, overall

63 A.B.Cobban, Thesocialinterpretation oftheFrench Revolution, (Cambridge, 1964), pp.100-101. See also the allusions made to illegalwoodgathering in the 1830s by Honore!de Balzacin Lespaysans and in his letter to P.S.B. Gavault, quoted in Scott, Weapons ofthe weak: 'The rights of pasturing their cows, the abuse ofgleaning grapes, had gottenestablished little by little in this fashion. By the time the Tonsards and the other lazypeasants of the valleyhad tasted the benefits ofthese four rights acquired by the poor inthe countryside, rights pushed to the point of pillage, one can imagine that they wereunlikely to renounce them unless compelled by a force stronger than their audacity,'

64 RB. Rose, 'Jacqueries at Davenescoun in 1791: a peasant riot in the Frenchrevolution', in F. Krantz, Historyftom below: studies inpopularprotestandpopularideologyin honourofGeorge Rude (Montreal, 1985):

accessto resources did improve, even ifir was at the expense oflong-termecological balance. In fact, the evidence seems to indicate that by about1798 the net ecological result of the Revolution consisted in an uncon­trolled ransacking of forest land and mountain slopes, particularly insouthern France. Soil erosion in the south-east and Basses-Alpes,alreadybad, became catastrophic." Indeed, in the course of trying to cope withthe hydraulic consequences of deforestation at this period, a wholegeneration of French engineers specialising in soil-erosion preventionemerged, whose writings became influential among later colonial scien­tistS.66

The two revolutionary phases in North America and in Francewere distinctly different in context from the phases ofresistance againstthe systems of 'scientific conservation' that were emerging in the earlyisland colonies of Britain and France. These were based on newconceptualisations of catastrophic resource depletion, where the estab­lishmenr's commitment against environmental'crime', especiallyagainstillegal tree-cutting and over-grazing, was becoming quite marked. Thuson St Helena, as early as the 1745, transgressions against forest rules bysettler common-right holders had already started to preoccupy the localgovernment to an unprecedented extent. The government even threat­ened to treat such offences as illegal goat-grazing as 'capital' crimes, butwas prevented from doing so by the intervention of the East IndiaCompany Directorate which at (this stage did not see the logic inenforcing anti-soil erosion legis~ation as strongly as the St Helenagovernment precociously did. Thf resulting conflicts mirrored to someextent the basic conflicts among commoners, the state and private capitalwhich were going on in England. In the colony, however, the emergingenvironmental issues underlying the conflict were quite different. InOctober 1745 Thomas and Henry Greentree {sic} were arraigned forrefusing to impound their goats when ordered to do so. The officialrecord stated:

to deter others from daring to offer the least contempt for the futureordered that eachof the Greentrees should be finedTen pounds ... we

65 See the chapter on soil erosion in France in P. Blaikie and H. Brookfield, Landdegradation and society (London, 1987), especiallypp. 129-136.

66 See especiallyJ.A.Fabre, Essai surla tbeorie des torrents et des riuieres (Paris, 1797).

202 Ecology, Climate and EmpireTowards a Global Synthesis 203

told them that they ought to look upon this fine as a very mildpunishment for so great a crime ... that disobeyinglawfulauthority wasmuch the same as resisting it and resisting authority was the beginningof a Rebellion which was a capital crime.

When the Directors heard ofthis exaction they-rook a critical view ofthe

Governor's action and the island Council had to backtrack, blandlyreporting to the Directors that 'we have repaid the Messrs Greentreestheir fines according to your orders, as you're ofopinion that the Goatsare more use than Ebony they shall not be destroyed in future'.67

Initially, then, the metropolitan authorities themselves resistedthe operation ofearly conservation laws in some limited contexts againstthe wishes oflocal government, if they perceived short-term profit to bethereby put at risk. At another kind of level, a comparable antagonismdeveloped when Pierre Poivre introduced a set of new and draconianforest protection rules on the lie de France (Mauritius), after 1767, basedboth on 1669 French Forest Ordinance precepts and on a coherentdesiccationist philosophy. These measures encountered stiffoppositionfrom settler landowners as well as iron foundry interests. Later, sugarplantation owners vigorously resisted state laws against forest clearanceuntil as late as the 1850s under British rule. 68The general point here isthat, having espoused the role ofenvironmental arbiter, the colonial stateimmediately found itself confronting a whole variety of classes and

economic factions with varying interests in either resisting any a~>eckonresource depletion or resisting imposed methods of control in far asthey threatened customary management. While the state in Brit .n was,in general, not able to embark on the kinds offorest controls that evokedsuch bitter opposition in France and New England the vigour of the

enclosure and emparking movement which it sanctioned for private

landowners during the eighteenth century had analogous, although farmore fragmented, effects. Enclosures of commons and parks tended toaffect rights to game more than woodland rights.69

67 St Helena Records; Government Diary, October 1745, p. 83. Govt. Archives, StHelena.

68 R. Brouard, The woods andforestofMauritius (Port Louis, 1963).

69G. Shaw-Lefevre, Thegamelaws(London, 1874).

Such measures helped to criminalise a growing sector of the

population, although without evoking the kinds ofintensified resistance

that could actually threaten the security of the state.?" Moreover, for the

state itself, opposition to ecological control was now only significantoutside Britain, where colonial sources of timber were acquiring increas­

ing importance.At the outset ofBritish territorial expansion in the west ofIndia

the rapid extension of political control immediately raised the issue offorest management, ownership and the social control offorest- dwellers.Some early attempts at resisting colonial forest control in this contextoccurred shortly after the assumption of East India Company rule.

However such episodes were not entirely new since the Company hadinherited a dynamic situation in which the successor states to the Mughalempire, with their growing resource and political ambitions, werealready in constant conflict with forest 'tribes'."! More importantly,some ofthe successor states to Mughal rule had been quick to embark onmonopolist policies towards timber resources. After annexation theintensification ofimperial timber demands with the onset of the Napo­leonic wars exacerbated these tensions; particularly as the British weredisposed, after 1792, to allocate forests to private or to state control,ignoring any kind of customary right. While in so doing they differedlittle from their indigenous state predecessors, East India Companyoccupation quickly provoked the emergence ofalliances between rulingand 'tribal' groups.72Thus betweeh 1796 and 1805 Kurichians and othershifting cultivators found themselves uniting to fight a war against the

I

70 D. Hay, 'Poaching and the game laws in Cannock chase', in D. Hay and E.P.Thompson, eds, Albion'sptal tree: crime and society in eighteenth century England(Harmondsworth, 1977); E.P. Thompson, ed.,Whigs andhunters: theorigins oftheBlackAct (Harmondsworth, 1977); J. Broad, 'Whigs and deer srealersin orher guises;a returnto rhe origins of the Black Act', Pastand Present (1988).

71 Chetan Singh, 'Conformity and conflict: tribes and the "agrarian system" ofMughalIndia', Indian Economic and Social History Review, 23, 3 (1988) pp. 320-340.

72It should be pointed out that the onset ofBritish rule in India was not alwaysinitiallyto the disadvanrage of 'tribal' groups. After the massive de-population of West Bengaloccasioned by the 1770 famine, for example, the Santhals were able to sprea~ .out to

occupy areas where they had never previously been known. How far the conditions ofBritish rule allowed this it is hard to say.

204 Ecology, Climateand Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 205

new occupiers alongside the forces of, for example, Kerala Varma, Rajahof Kottayam." Between 1815 and 1842 the developing East IndiaCompany state on the west coast found itself continually in conflict withthe Bhil tribes from Sind in the north to North Canara in the south.Control offorests thus became synonymous withthe political control ofdissent, leaving aside notions of resource control or conservation."

Throughout the west coast of India, where the forests played acritical part in the early formulation of the scientific conservationideology of the East India Company, programmes for resource controland conservation were increasingly frequently used to justify politicalcontrols for which no other easy rationale could easily be found.Attaching blame to forest tribes for ecological aswell as political trouble­makingwas a logical development at this stage and one that could be usedto justify far more oppressive controls than might otherwise havedeveloped, and in particular to allow any customary land-rights to beignored. The political 'bargain' struck by the East India Company withthe Dangs Rajah can be seen in this light: Alexander Gibson, the firstForest Conservator of the Bombay Presidency, commented that 'theannual payment made to the chiefs is the ... most satisfactory outcomethat could be devised to keep the peace in that wild country'.

Despite the political advantages endowed by forest control, theupper echelons of the Company were eager to contest such notions ofstate intervention. This helps to explain why, when the Bomb~;Forest

Department was founded in 1847, it was explicitly justified~?, theCompany Directors on the basis of the climatic threat posed b}\defor­estation, rather than on the timber-need arguments which it hadconsistently rejected." What was more, the British fell back uponMaratha methods of forest reservation and state rights over particulartimbers as part of the legal rationale for wresting control of forest lands

73 P.R.G. Mathur, 'Political awakening among the tribes ofWynaad', in KS. Singh,Tribal movements in India, (New Delhi: Manohar, 1982).

74 For the strategic aspects ofthis policy see K Ballhatcher, Socialpolicy andsocialchangein Western India, 1817-1830 (London, 1957).

75 Although it should be said that between 1837 and 1845 forest reserveswere frequentlyadvocated by local and naval timber agents to gain control of the forests in northernGujerat in the Dangs and Panch Mahals districts.

back out of the landowning hands to which they had been formallygranted in the opening years of the century.

During this period developments closely parallel to those inwestern India were taking place in southern Mrica and in Algeria. Toaccount for this simultaneity, and for the extraordinary haste with whichthe British and French colonial states took on their new conservation andcontrol role in the 1840s and 1850s requires an appreciation of the wayin which environmental anxieties (which were certainly a concern ofthestate) also provided a heaven-sent opportunity to deal with moregeneralised resource demands, crisesofindigenous resistance and fears ofloss of control." Both in India and, to a much greater extent, in SouthMrica these fears stemmed partly from an awareness of populationpressures and fear of famine. Apart from the case of Sind, all the firstforest reserves in western India and the Cape were founded in closeassociation with popular unrest and military confrontation.77 It was alsoat this period, during the European crisis of1848, that grievances againstnew systems of 'scientific' forest controls became part of the agenda ofrural 'jacqueries' in south-west Germany where peasants and sometownspeople were united by common attempts to reappropriate thewealth of forests.78 There had been other more isolated and short-livedinstances ofthe revival ofpopular opposition to state forest ambitions inEngland in 1830-31 in association with the Captain Swing riots" andin France against the new Forest Code of 1827. In the latter case

Iopposition to the Code built up particularly in the Midi and in Corsica.In the Ariege region of south-western France peasants waged the long

I

76 See Chapter 3.

77 The Sind (Scinde) case is somewhat different. Here, between 1842 and 1848, forestreserveswere established on the sites ofhunting reserveslong established by the SindhiRajahs. In this case formal establishment was welcomed by local farmers since theyimmediately gained access to pastures and arable land from which they had previouslybeen excluded. See Capt. J. Scott, Reporton the canalsandforestso/Sind(Bombay, 1853).

78 P. Linebaugh, 'Karl Marx, the theft of wood and working-class composition', in T.Platt and P. Takagi, eds, Crime and socialjustice(London, 1981), pp. 85-110.

79 Ansris, Warren James and the Dean ForestRiots. The most deep-seated and extensivepart ofthe Captain Swing movement took place in the Forest ofDean, building on long­held resentments against the enclosure activities of naval timber interests. So too, theForest contributed the greatest single number of transportees to Tasmania.

206 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a Global Synthesis 207

!

drawn-out War of the Demoiselles, so named because men dressed aswomento avoid recognition. Such movements can be treated ascontinu­ing and striking instances ofresistance to the impact ofinternal coloni-alism.f" ' .

These European rebellions were a clue to what would happen alittle later in India where a German-influenced system supplanted lessformalised forest-management models after 1878. 81 There are other,more direct, connections to be made between the historical developmentofrevolutionary political philosophy and the alienation ofpeasants fromforests during this period. In particular, Marx's first political essaysandthe self-confessed stimulant to his first attempts at serious analysis ofsocial process stem from his concern with the criminalisation of thepeasan t by new forestlaws in the 1840s. The youngMarx objected, aboveall, to the new development offorced labour in the forest asa punishmentfor forest crime." It may come as no surprise, therefore, to find that thebeginnings oforganised resistance to the new, monolithic kinds offorestcontrol can be traced to the same period, both in central Europe and inIndia. Early murmurings of resistance specifically against formal forestcontrols in India began as early as 1842 when the first timbercontractswith the Dangs chiefs, in Northern Gujerat, were made. From that timeonwards it is probably fair to say that almost all the major episodes ofcoordinated popular resistance to colonial rule in India especially in1856-57, in 1920-21 and the early 1930swere, almost baromet!'allY,preceded byphases ofvigorous resistance to colonial forest control.' .orneofthese episod~s were directly linked with the more urban-based p testepisodes, while others were not. 83

80 See Eugen Weber, Peasants intoFrenchmen (Stanford, 1976); especiallypp. 485-492,where he applies Frantz Fanon to nineteenth-century France. For a case study of corkworkers who took over and ran their own enterprises asproducers' co-operatives duringthe Second French Republic seeMaurice Agulhon, Lartpubliqueau village (Paris, 1970),pp.126-145,305-360.

81 See Gadgil and Cuha, 'State forestry and social conflict'.

82 K. Marx (1847), Proceedings of the Sixth Rhine Province Assembly, Third Article;Debates on theLaw ofthe TheftofWoodin K. Marx and F. Engels, Collected Works (NewYork, 1975), vol. 1.

83 For a useful recent discussion of the connections between 'Gandhian hegemony andrural forest protest movements see Atluri Murali, 'Civil disobedience movements in

In 1851, only three years after the Bombay Forest Departmentwas established in 1847 on a 'climatic anxiety' basis, more organisedforms ofresistance started to appear in direct response to the impositionof timber fees which could not be related by any stretch of the imagina­tion to anycustomary system. The negotiating skills ofSurgeon Alexan­der Gibson, the first Forest Conservator of the Bombay Presidency,successfully defused this early confrontation and it should be noted that,by and large, the forest departments founded by the Company in theirbrief span between 1842 (when the first reserves were founded in Sind)and 1865 were more sensitive to the possibilities of rebellion and morewilling to recognise and discriminate between the different kinds ofsocial forces causing deforestation. In the 1851 confrontation forestlandowners in the Thana district ofthe Presidency formed a convenient'alliance' with the Varli tribal group and actually persuaded them tomarch in protest into Bombay aswell as stimulating agitation within theforest itself84 The Indian forest department system at this stage was, asyet, by no means monolithic and was able to adjust pragmatically to whatwas, as Alexander Gibson saw it, legitimate protest. This was at a timelong before an oppressive bureaucratic framework had armed itself witha ~ore inflexible scientific ideology of forestry. The fact that the earlyForest departments in the Bombay and Madras Presidencies were run byofficers of the Medical Service helps to account for this. In the MadrasForest Department, for example, founded in 1856 by Hugh Cleghorn,the senior officers ofthe servicewere all Indians until 1865 , aswas ChaturMenon, the planner of the pioneering Nilumbur teak plantations. Theindigenous element was still significant. Furthermore, in Madras theearly hostility to shifting cultivators became diluted in a significant waybetween 1856 and 1870 by Hugh Cleghorn's recognition that thedepredations of invading lowland cultivators, timber interests andrailway builders were far more destructive than the recurrent effects of

Andhra, 1920-1921; the nature ofpeasant protest and the methods ofCongress politicalmobilisation', in Kapil Kuman, ed., Congress and classes (New Delhi, 1987). Muraliasserts that, while Congress may have gained from the forest movements, their originswere relatively autonomous. While accepting the 'Gandhian hegemony' the localCongress leaders often took the lead from the autonomous articulation of local forestgrievances rather than the other way about.

84 See Reportofthe Bombay Forest Commission, vol.I (1887), pp. 22-30.

------_ .. _-----------------------------------.....

208 Ecology, Climateand Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 209

koomri or shifting cultivation. Instead, the principal problem in theNilgiri hills, as Cleghorn identified it in 1866, was that 'capital' wasflowing into the area, largely in the form ofplantation investment. Thiswas, he thought, an inherently destructive process,

Nevertheless, in spite of this element of flexibility, the earlynationalist movement in the Bombay area was able to use grievancesagainst the forest department to motivate rural support. From. about1870 onwards the BombayAssociation and the Poona People's Associa­tion actively sought out a broader constituency among the forest usersand dwellers ofThana district. This meant that by the end ofthe decadethe Poona People's Association and the new Thana Forest Associationwere able to act as the main spokesmen for protests against increasinglyrestrictive forest rules, deriving a considerable political constituencythereby. The strength of these new movements eventually impelled theauthorities to set up the Bombay Forest Commission to investigate andreport (in 1887) on forest grievances in a comprehensive, althoughultimately ineffectual, fashion.

The steadily growing restrictions on forest rights and disposses­sion ofcustomary rights particularly after the passing ofthe 1878 ForestAct had, in fact, ended any notions offlexibility. The rebellions in Bastarin 1876 and the Rampa rebellion in the Godavari conveniently mark thebeginning of this period." The incorporation of pre-colonial forcedlabour practices, such as begari, in which labourwas traded simply s?r theright ofresidence, served to legitimate forest control by the reinv~ting

of a tradition in a surprisingly insidious fashion. The history of ~dig­enous rebellions and forest satyagraha against the Indian Forest Depart­ment after 1878 has been extensively documented elsewhere." Existingaccounts, however, have largely ignored the scarcity of forest rebellionsbefore 1878 while simultaneously neglecting the growing complexity ofthese resistance movements after Indian independence, since when theIndian government has pursued a forest policy little different (indeed)

"5 See D. Arnold, 'Rebellious hillmen; the Gudem Rampa uprisings, 1839-1922', inRanjit Guha, ed., Subaltern Studies, 11 (1982).

86 SeeGadgil and Guha, 'State forestry and socialconflict'. SeealsoR. Guha, Theunquietwoods: ecological change and peasantresistance (Delhi, 1989).

from that of the colonial period. The two most potent forces ingenerating resistance after independence, it may be said, were thecontinuing and increasing restrictions placed on shifting cultivation andthe sale of forest produce coupled with the alienation of tribal peoplefrom their land as a result of debt transactions. The period after 1940seems to represent a new phase in this development, and a date far moresignificant than 1947. Rates ofeviction increased dramatically after thattime with the large-scale transfer ofvillages to absentee landlords.87 Thenbegan what one may term the 'disillusion phase'. This started whenpeasants and tribals realised thatzamindariabolition would generally notbenefit them and that indigenous rule did not imply any freedom in theforests.88 The illicit peasant invasion ofzamindariforests in north Biharin 1946 was an important precursor of this phase." In Madya Pradeshthe kinds ofresistance movement which first appeared during the 1920s

reappeared with redoubled vigour in the late 1950s, especially under theleadership ofKangha Manjhi in 1959-62. This insurgency was quicklysucceeded by the movements in Andra Pradesh in 1960-64. The latterwere significant in so far as they provided a fertile ground for Naxaliteagitation in the period up to 1970. With recent research it is becomingclear that the Naxalite movement itselfwould not have acquired momen­tum had it not been successful in finding deep roots in grievances againstthe Forest Department and its restriction on shifting cultivation innorthern West Bengal, in the D~rjeeling area and in the Srikukulamregion of Orissa." In this respect the ecological origins and ruralconstituency ofthe Naxalite movement, in terms ofthe way it drew upongrievances against state agriculturdI and forest policies, have mirrored the

,

"7 K.S. Singh, 'The Gond movements', in Tribal movements in India, pp. 177-83.

""lbid.,p.18I.

"9 See V. Damodaran, 'Betraying the people: popular protest, the Congress and theNational movement in Bihar 1938-1948', (Ph. D. thesis, University of Cambridge,1989), chapter 5.

o 90 P.K.M. Rao and P.c.P. Rao, 'Tribal movemenrs in Andhra Pradesh', in Singh, Tribalmovements in India, pp. 354-72. See alsoSamanta Banerjee, In the wakeofNaxalbari:ahistory ofthe Naxalite movementin India (Calcutta, 1980); Sohail Jawaid, TheNaxalitemovementin India: originsandfailureoftheNaxaliterevolutionary strategy in WestBenga41967-1971 (New Delhi, 1979).

character ofboth the embryonic nationalist movement in Zimbawe andthe Mau Mau rebellion in Kenya.?' ,

The development ofthe Bhil movementaround Dhulia in 1972­74, led by Ambarsing Surarwanti, once again ~elated to large transfers ofland out of tribal hands and the growth in what were effectively forcedlabour or begari regimes exploiting dispossessed tribal people." Over amuch longer period, in Chotanagpur, the Jharkhand movement hasalways been closely associated with, if not entirely reliant on, forestresistance movements. In 1978-79 parts of the movement found aparticular focus in resistance to the planting of teak." This becamecentral to the resistance movement and to opposition to the activities ofa local Forest Development corporation typical of the kind that sproutedall over India during the period 1969-80. The concessions achieved bythese last movements have generally been trivial. Their character andtheir agendas need to be carefully distinguished from the developmentofthe Chipko movement" Even so the central issueoflocal control overland and vital common property resources has been a critical commondenominator." Overall it is striking to observe how the Indian forestryestablishment, in terms of practical policies as distinct from the politicsofWhite Papers, has steadily strengthened the forces alienating peoplefrom their forest resources, in a forest estate being gradually whittledaway by the unleashing of often blatantly corrupt commercal forces in

.~!

91 For the ecological basisofthese movements see (on Southern Rhodesia) G. P4more,'The native land husbandry policy', (chapter 5 ofPh.D. thesis, University ofRhodesia,1979); G. Passmore, 'Rhodesia: a documentary record of policy failure', (unpublishedMS paper); and (on Kenya) D. Throup, Economic and social origins ofthe Mau Mau(London, 1988).

92 D.S. Kulkarni, 'The Bhil movement in the Dhulis district, 1972-1974', in Singh,Tribalmovements in India. '

93 KS. Singh, 'Tribal secessionist movements in Chotanagpur', in his Tribalmovementsin India.

94 Although Chipko has also concerned itselfwith distinguishing the relative demerits ofteak asagainstother tree species,especially' sal'.The much greater involvemen t ofwomenin prominent positions in Chipko is a further distinguishing feature.

95 Ani!Agarwal, 'Ecological destruction and the emerging patterns ofpolicy and popularprotest in rural India', SocialAction, 1 (1985), pp. 54-80.

96 For an account of the effects of the expansion of these commercial forces see W.Fern~nd~ and Geeta Menon, Tribal movements and forest economy: deforestation,exploitation and status change (New Delhi, 1984).

97 BBC World Service, Interview with jocasta Shakespeare ofJersey Wildlife Trust, 28May 1989. See also Tim McGirk, 'Going to the cats', Time, 10 March 1997.

the forest sector."The real ecological priorities ofthe post-independenceIndian government are perhaps best summarised by the killing ofsixteenpeasants in early 1984, slaughtered as they led their cattle on to pasturethe rights over which they disputed with the management of theBharatpur Wildlife Sanctuary. More recently Baiga tribespeople havecontinued to be evicted in large numbers from the new national parksand game (tiger) reservations in Madhya Pradesh." Thus the continuinghuman cost ofwildlife conservation in India, let alone forest conserva­tion, has been a high one.

Forest resistance movements in India were and are largely autono­mous in origin and mobilisation. However, they were harnessable bymore elite nationalist formations and, more recently, by contemporaryradical leftist movements. Most significantly, they have provided muchof the impetus behind separatist movements in India in the post­independence period. This impetus has depended, however, on theexistence of dynamic links between the rural protest movements andradical urban-based groupings. Even in predominantly arable parts ofrural India, it is difficult to underestimate the critical part played by'ecological grievances', particularly those relating to wood supply, accessto grazing and local irrigation, in provoking the kind ofwidespread ruraldiscontent upon whch 'national' political movements have depended fortheir constituency. In Bihar, for instance, during the 1920s and 1930s,peasants were caught between, on the one hand, the increasinglyawkward administrative obstacle~ placed by the state on access to forestreserves,and on the other by the ~teadily more rapacious depredations oflandlords encroachingon grazing lands and common rights. The strikingirony is that, far from assisting the poorer peasants in their struggle toloosen this ecological stranglehold, the Congress governments newlyelected to power after 1937 and again in 1946 actually connived with thelandlords, at least in Bihar, in enabling the continuing erosion of

211Towards a Global SynthesisEcology, Climate and Empire210

212 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a GlobalSynthesis 213

common property resources." This kind of political betrayal by thenationalist movement helps to explain the intensity ofecological resist­ance movements in the post-independence era in India.

The ecological controls originated in col~nial India, particularlythose developed in the name of forest conservation, have evoked similarpatterns of response in most of the other territories in which they havebeen applied. Thus the British annexation of Cyprus in 1878 was soonfollowed, in 1879, by the passing of a forest law based directly on theIndian Forest Act of 1878. Indian colonial 'experts' such H. Cleghorn,B. Madan and D. E. Hutchins regularly advised on management of theCyprus forests."? Australian species were imported and activereafforestation commenced. Incendiarism, which had taken place almostevery year until 1965, became a regular feature of the rural response toforest reservation and planting. Forest reservation presented a strongimpediment to rural pasture needs, especially for those herding goats.Repeated floods of propaganda failed to ameliorate the problem. As inIndia a phase of disillusion after independence about the absence ofchange in state forest policies sparked renewed incendiarism. To add tothe problem, communal struggles between Turkish and Greek Cypriotswere also characterised by the use of incendiarism as a familiar weaponof protest and conflict. One conservator, Chapman, was led to ask in1966, 'how much longer, one wonders, will it be before the forest can bedissociated from political disturbances and before forest incen~ismceases to be a stick to beat the government?'IOO -:

A remarkably similar pattern ofresponse to forest reserve d~lltroldeveloped in Algeria, another ex-Ottoman territory, during the colonialperiod. In this case the French Forest Code of1827 was imposed almostunaltered. Here too, resistance generally took the form ofincendiarism.

98 See Damodaran, 'Betraying the people', ch. 2. Damodaran's conclusions are similarto those espoused by Murali in Andhra, namely that the institutional connectionsbetween the Congress and much more radical local protest movements preventeddisillusion with the Congress (in actually dealing with ecological grievances) escalatinginto a complete break. Even the Kisan Sabha in Bihar was unable to bring itself to makesuch a break before independence. Political co-option therefore, allowed ecologicalimpoverishment to continue unhindered in large parts of India.

99 Thirgood, Man and the Mediterranean ftrest (London, 1977).

100 Ibid.

Theconflagrationsof1859, 1863,1870,1876,1881, and 1892 'becameliterally engraved on the collective colonial memory, that is, theycomprised an element ofcolonial political culture then in the process offormation';'?' In Algeria, the new forest controls effectively interrupteda long-established pattern of indigenous transhumance, land use andtrading patterns in forest products long established in the Beni Salah andEdough mountains. Initially Arab lands were seized and sold to tradingcompanies, many ofthem English,102 before the process was bolstered bya forest reserve system. Annual firing was already practised by the BeniSalah farmers in the course ofKusar agriculture and was easily adaptedto more active incendiarism. The most destructive fires occurred in1881, the turn ofthe Islamic century and the year ofthe Sudanese Mahdi.An investigative commission pointed to the influence of a revolt in thecity ofOran and the French invasion ofTunisia in the same year as factorsencouraging the incendiarists. The great fear of the French on thisoccasion, however, was that the real force behind the fires was theresurgence ofSufi agitation and Pan-Islamic propaganda. A millenarianand Mahdist influence was almost certainly involved. Behind it all,however, remained the economic attack on the Algerian way oflife. Asone Algerian author commented in 1881, 'the fires in our canton mustbe 'attributed to the motive of revenge against the forest companies' .103Simultaneously, at the other end ofAfrica, serious resistance to colonialforest policy began in Natal afterr1882, where, once again, a version ofthe Indian Forest Act was put in place under the tutelage of D. E.Hurchins.l?' Under this Act the ¥rians were progressively criminalised

101 David Prochaska, 'Fire on the mountain: resisting colonialism in Algeria', in D.Crummey, ed., Banditry, rebellionand socialprotest in Africa (London, 1986).

102 For example, the London and Lisbon Cork Wood Company which purchasedconcessions in 1865.

103 Prochaska, 'Resisting colonialism in Algeria', p. 243. Resistance to French colonialforest policy was not confined to Algeria. In Madagascar, too, the installation of forestreserves after 1896 was stiilly resisted. The full history of these episodes remains to bewritten. I am indebted to Professor Maurice Bloch of the London School ofEconomicsfor this information.

104 T.R. Sim, Forests andftmtf/ora o/the Cape Colony (Cape Town, 1907). D. E.Hutchins had originally been employed in the Madras Forest Service.

105 Report ofthe Conseruator ofForests, CapeTown, 1889,p. 303.106 J. Carruthers, 'Game protection in the Transvaal, 1846-1921' (Ph.D. thesis,University of CapeTown, 1988).107 J. Carruthers, 'Creating a national park, 1910-1926',JournalofSouthern AfricanStudies, 2 (1989), pp. 188-217.108 G. Shepperson, Independent African: John Chilembwe and the origins, setting andsignificance oftheNyasaland Risingof1915 (Edinburgh, 1958).109 See Linebaugh, 'KarlMarx, the theftof wood'.

and 'forest crime' rose every year until 1898. Hutchins wrote that he

believed that

Forestproperty [sic] issimilar to game, it.iswidelydispersedand difficultof protection. It is easyfor a Kaffir to slip into a forest, cut a sapling andsell it as a pole at the nearest canteen, as for a poacher to knock over apheasant ... forestpolicyshould be pursued ... againstforestdestructionas firmly as other moral evilsare faced.IDS

Between 1858.and 1888 game reservation policies were being pioneeredin the Transvaal and then in Natal, Southern Rhodesia and Nyasaland.In essence, these policies were aimed at ex~ludingallMricans from gamereserves and banningMrican hunting. lOGIt has recently been argued thatthe first game reserves and national parks in SouthMrica effectively tookon a role as symbolic vehicles for Mrikaner nationalism. 107 As a corollaryof this the discriminatory effects of the reserves and their extraordinaryclaims over land can also be firmly be linked to nascent Mricannationalism. Even where this symbolism was lessclearcut, asin Nyasaland,the new hunting regulations played a prominent part in evoking thekinds ofgrievances articulated in the first nationalist developments northof the Zambezi, and particularly in the Chilembwe rising in 1915.108

The increasingly political response to colonial land-use policies in

Africa did not take place in a theoretical or comparative vacuum. By the

early 1920s, for instance, the example of the Russian Revolution beganto seep on to the political agendas ofearly anti-colonial struggles.'~ere,too, it should be remembered that actual peasant involvement iIYpre­1917 rebellions was primarily motivated and constrained by ecol~gicalmarginality. Thus during the massive agrarian unrest of 1905-07 the

illicit cutting ofwood constituted the main part of mass actions againstlandowners.l''? Lenin had written, 'the lumber industry leaves all the old

110 V.1. Lenin, Thedevelopment ofcapitalism in Russia (Moscow, 1899).III See M. Pertie, 'The Russian peasant movement of1905-1907, itssocial compositionand revolutionary significance', Pastand Present, 57 (1972).112 NationalArchives ofZimbabwe, GFfiles on 'grassfire' 1912-20;seealso Environmentand History, 1.3 (19%), special issue on Zimbabwe.113 Mukamuri, 'Local environmental conservation strategies'.114 SeeM.Gadgil andV.D.Vatala, 'Sacred groves ofMaharashtra: an inventory', inS.K.Jain,ed., Glimpses oftheethnobotanyofBombay (Oxford, 1981); P.C. Hembram, 'Returnto the sacred grove', in Singh, Tribalmovements in India, pp. 87-91.

215Towards a Global Synthesis

patriarchal way oflife practically intact, enmeshing in the worst forms ofbondage the workers who are left to toil in the remote forest depths'. 110

In fact truck payments and extra-economic forms of bondage had

prevailed in Russia not as mere remnants from a pre-capitalist social

formation but as terms ofexploitation guaranteeing stability to capitalist

accumulation. HI The analogy.with colonial forest policy, especially in

central India and Southern Rhodesia, was a close one. In both, erstwhileshifting cultivators and pastoralists were co-opted as 'forest serfs', and

permitted to reside in forest areas only on condition they provided partofa permanent labour pool for the reserve system. In southernAfrica too,

as in Algeria, incendiarism became a major ecological weapon, although

not one employed exclusively by Mrican farmers. In Southern Rhodesiaactive incendiarism of grasslands in Matabeleland accompanied theannexation of land by European farmers and the effective agriculturaland ecological marginalisation of the Ndebele. Much of the firing,

however, as local officials discovered, was in fact carried out by European

farmers anxious to pin blame on Africans and thereby to secure theireviction to reserves.I'? The religious importance ofparticular parts ofthetree cover and landscape played a role, too. 113 Much opposition had beensparked in south-west India to forest policy when sacred woods weretransgressed upon.U" So too, opposition to the Matopos National Parkin Southern Rhodesia focused on the religious significance ofparticularparts of the Matopo hills. Later; during the late 1940s, the Ndebelepursued their case against their exclusion from the national park throughlegislative means. The details of ;this legal battle, which are copiously

documented, highlight the confronration which had developed between

Ecology, Climate and Empire214

115 See T. Ranger, 'Whose heritage? The case of the Matobo National Park' ,journalofSouthern Aftican Studies, 2 (1989), pp. 217-249.

116 Malawi National Archives, Zomba, Malawi; Forest Department files, 1920-40.

117 For references to resistance to forest policy initiatives in Nigeria in 1900-20 see E.E.Enabor, 'The future of forestry in Nigeria', in The challenge ofdefirestation in Nigeria(Ibadan, 1986); and AH. Unwin, WestAfticanfirestsandfirestry (London, 1920).

118 Troup, Colonialfirest administration, pp. 323-327.

119 J.Brown Wills, Agricultureand landuse in Ghana(Oxford and Accra, 1962), pp. 229.

the confident and exclusionist claims of'scientific ecology' and the basicpolitical and religious claims of an indigenous people. 1

15

After 1918 renewed fearsofthe consequences'ofdrought through­out southern Mrica, encouraged particularly by'the report of the SouthMrican drought commission in 1922, led to a spurt of forest reservedeclarations in Nyasaland and the Rhodesias designed ostensibly toprotect watersheds, avoid regional climatic change and prevent soilerosion. Large-scale removal ofvillages from new forest reserves such asthat on Dzalanyama mountain in central Nyasaland were one result.!"At first these evoked little in the way oforganised resistance. In contrast,the response to similar efforts at introducing Indian forest policies inAnglophone west Africa, and particularly to the Gold Coast and Nigeria,promoted a vigorous prorest.!'? First attempts were made to install aforest department and forest legislation on the Indian model in the GoldCoast in 1909. 118 The project was an immediate failure. Most of theaffected chiefs objected strongly, legally armed, as they were, by the factof their holding far more freehold rights than did their indigenouscontemporaries in East and southern Africa, I 19 Only in 1928 were forestreserves established in the Gold Coast. Even then, establishment tookplace only after a long propaganda campaign and process ofnegotiationbetween chiefs and the state. When the Forest Department was resusci­tated in 1928 wholesale concessions were made to indigenous rights,involving a strong element of local self-management. Most fJi theimported Indian foresters were sent home during the 1920s, appalJi bythe almost entirely successful efforts of the Gold Coast chiefs to to~edo

their plans. They were succeeded by far more pragmatically minded andflexible military officers who were quite happy to make the desiredconcessions. Of course, the element of white settler agriculture was

122 D. Anderson, 'Managing the forest: the conservation history of Lembus, Kenya,1904-1963', in Anderson and Grove, Conservation in Aftica, pp. 249-265.

123 Beinart, 'Soil erosion', and 'Introduction: the politics of colonial conservation',JournalofSouthern Aftican Studies, 2 (1989), pp. 143-163; Throup, 'Economic andsocial origins ofMau Mau'; A Thurston, Smallholder agriculture in colonial Kenya: theofficialmindand the Swynnerton Plan (Cambridge, 1987).

217Towards a Global Synthesis

120 The contrast with de.velopments in ~a1aysia in the same year, 1928, is remarkable.In the Trengannu rebellion of that year, sparked by new forest and land tax laws, Lebaiabdul Rahman led a force of 1,000 rebel~. The revolt was put down savagelyafter a fewweeks by the colonial authorities, with many casualties resulting. This revolt marked thefinal stage in acquisition of full control of the Malay states by the British. For details ofthe rebellion see Daro Seri Lela di-Raja, 'The U1uTrengannu disturbance, May 1928',Malaysia in History, vol. 12, no. 1 (1968). The brutal tradition ofstate suppression offorest-dwellers has, ofcourse, been consistently reinforced in the post-independence era,particularly in Sarawak.

121 Government of the Gold Coast, Annual Reports of the Forest Department, 1909­40.

largely absent in the Gold Coast so that political pressures to bolsterconservation policies as a maskfor discriminatory land policies were farless.12o The same could hardly be said of conservation policies furthersouth in Africa,I21 In Kenya, the introduction of a forest policy on theIndian model after rhe turn of the century provoked a graduallyintensifying conflict between the colonial authorities and peasant farm­ers and pastoralists over access to lands and woods that were essential tosurvival in drought periods, particularly as competition from Europeanlandowners increased. The Tugen people, in particular, had becomelargely successful, by the early 1950s, in sabotaging many of the pro­grammes ofthe Forest Department, 122 Resistance to post-1940 compul­sory soil conservation and terracing in East Africa proved an even moreexplosive political issue since these schemes are inherently more sociallyinvasive and geographically ambitious in conception than forest policy.Early soil conservation concepts developed in the Cape Colony in the1860s were reinforced by North American precedents in 1920s and1930s and then imported into Rhodesia, Nyasaland and Kenya between1930 and 1955.123In each ofthese territories, from about 1942 onwards,compulsory soil conservation programmes, often involving forced la­bour and other legal sanctions, sparked determined resistance move-

Ecology, Climateand Empire216

124 There is as yet no useful published history of the colonial forest and soil protectionprogrammes ofAfrica, An early attempt to survey the field in Africa is D. Anderlln andA.C. Millington, 'Political economy of soil erosion in Anglophone Mrica',q?A.C.Millington, S. K,. Mutiso and J. A. Binns, eds, AfricanResources (Reading, 199~, vo!.2, 'Management'. '

125 1. Vail and Landeg White, 'Tribalism in the political history ofMalawi', in 1. Vail,ed., Thecreation oftribes in southern Africa (London, 1989). For details of resistance tosoil terracing policies in Nyasaland and associated mass actions and riots in the widercontext of the 1959 emergency in Nyasaland see ReportoftheNyasalandCommission ofInquiry (London: Colonial Office, 1959); and W. Beinart, 'Agricultural planning andthe late colonial technical imagination; the Lower Shire valley in Malawi, 1940-1960',in Malawi:an alternativepattern ofdevelopment (Edinburgh, 1984). According to E.C.Mandala ('Capitalism, ecology and society'), the soil terracing policies were not univer­sallyunpopular; some farmers voluntarilycontinued the practice after independence. Seealso R.1. Rotberg, The rise ofnationalism in centralAfrica: the making ofMalawi andZambia, 1873-1964 (Cambridge, Mass., 1966), pp. 171-199.

126 G.c. Passmore, 'Rhodesia, a documentary record ofpolicy failure', manuscript, pp.3-5.

ments, both violent and non-violent, many of which were enlisted tosupport the emergent nationalist movements. 124" In each case, then,resentment against conservation controls fed directly i~to the embryonicnationalist movements, probably far more potently than had been thecase in India. Indeed, Vail and White have recently shown how, i~

Nyasaland, in the political turmoil that surrounded the creation of thenew Federation (of Rhodesia and Nyasaland), no other issue generatedsuch mass resentment as compulsory soil conservation terracing.P?

In Southern Rhodesia soil and forest conservation measuresbecame inextricably bound up with peasant resistance and with the riseof the nationalist movement over a much longer time-scale than inneighbouring territories. Evictions and resettlement under the LandApportionmentAct in the 1940s laid the foundation for a radical peasantnationalism, which was to come fully into the open only with theguerrilla war after 1965.126 Coming on top of resentment alreadyaroused, the effects of the Native Land Husbandry Act, introduced in1951, were nothing less than calamitous. The measure had been intro­duced in response to alarmist estimates of soil erosion losses, the resultof the systematic over-populating of the native reserves. The Act de­manded reallocation ofholdings on an 'economic' basis, often involving

127 Ibid., pp. 5-7.

128 D.Martin and P. Johnson, Thestruggleftr Zimbabwe:theChimurenga war (London,1981).

129J. Mtisi, 'Population control and management; a case study of Nyamukwara Valleytenants at Stapleford Forest Reserve, 1929-1971', paper presented to session on'Conservation and rural people in Zimbabwe' at African Studies Association of the UKconference, Cambridge, September 1988.

219Towards a Global Synthesis

wholesale movements and resettlement ofpopulation, with little regardto ancestral ties. These movements were literally carried out with therigour of a military exercise, using army transport and personnel.Heightened regulations for destocking and conservation were vigorouslyimposed. The suffering and hostility to which the scheme gave rise wereaccentuated by a five-year plan for its acceleration, launched in 1955. Ithad been anticipated that those who could not be allocated land wouldfind employment in urban areas. The threatened break-up ofthe CentralMrican Federation, however, resulted in heightened unemployment,exacerbating resentment both in towns and on the land. The report oftheMangwende Commission in 1961,which had enquired into the unrest,confirmed the fierce resistance which had been mounted to 'landhusbandry measures' inside one reserve. The commission found thatunrest was related directly to landlessness resulting from the 1951 Act,which in some areas, because ofthe workings ofthe Act, had reached 50­60 per cent. Widespread arson and other destruction had been provoked.The report of the Mangwende Commission led to some lessening in therigour with which the Act was applied.F? Despite this response Martinand Johnson, in their chronicle of the Zimbabwe Mrican NationalUnion (ZANU), have confirmed that the Land HusbandryAct providedthe final catalyst for concerted nationalist resistance. 128 Moreover, duringthe period 1957-72 resistance to Rhodesian forest policy grew steadilyin the Eastern Highlands, ma9ifested mainly in incendiarism andresistance to the vagaries of a colonial soil conservation policy, thetechnical agendas of which were constantly changing. 129 The deeplydestabilising effect of these policies on the tenants-at-will of the ForestDepartment helped to provide a fertile ground for the progress ofinsurgency from Mozambique in the early 1970s.

-------------

Ecology, Climateand Empire218

130 The diffusion of ideas between the colonial powers on conservation policies by thisperiod was rapid; for a complere survey see A Harroy, Afrique, terre qui meurt(Brussels,1949),

131 To date there is no surveyofpopular resistance to colonial forestpolicy in West Mrica;however, Unwin, West African ftrests and ftrestry, is a useful basic guide to thedevelopment of forest conservation in West Africa, providing some perhaps unwittinginsights into indigenous responses,

132 AT. Grove, Land useand soil conservation in parts ofOnitsha and Owerri Provinces(Zaria: Geological Survey of Nigeria, 1951),

133 Ibid.

A series ofattempts were made after 1945 to.introduce the kindsofsoil conservation programmes which had been developed in southernAfrica into both Anglophone and FrancophoneW~stMrica, and espe­cially to Nigeria.P? Once again the contrast with the course of policy inthe white settler states was striking. Efficient activity by urban nationalist .'workers sent out to village areas in Northern Nigeria, particularly during1948, quickly quelled any hopes the Colonial Office may have had forsoil conservation and most programmes were abandoned by the end ofthe year.P' As one Nigerian Geological Survey officer remarked whenreporting his survey ofOko village in Awa division, 'Measuring the landaroused suspicion so that only rapid survey methods could be used andattempts made to elicit information from individuals were hampered bythe interference ofirresponsible elements from outside the village.132 Anadditional reason why, arguably, imposed soil and forest conservationstrategies were pursued less determinedly in the colonial Gold Coast andNigeria than in other parts of Anglophone Africa was the growingawareness developed by the younger post-war generation ofexperts thatindigenous land-use methods actually possessed merit in conservationterms. The protection afforded by sacred groves in Eastern Nigeria to

, otherwise highly erodable water catchments was noted on at least oneoccasion as meritorious.P"

Such a developing sensitivity to indigenous land-use practicesstands, in fact, in stark contrast to the monolithic darn-building.andirrigation projects pursued, under the tutelage of ex-patriate engi~ersby, for example, the independent Nigerian government durin~the

1960s and 1970s. These projects have often involved the large-scale

134 Probably the most violent episode ofresistance to a 'development' project in Nigeriawas that at the Bakolori Dam site in 1980, This is described in an important case studyby W,M, Adams; 'Rural protest, land policy and the planning process on the BakoloriProject, Nigeria', Africa, 58 (1988), pp. 315-336.

135 KL Pelzer, Pioneer settlement in the Asiatic tropics: studies in land utilisation andagricultural colonisation in southeasternAsia (New York, 1948), p. 233.

136 M. Gamaleddin, 'State policy and famine in the Awash valley of Ethiopia', inAnderson and Grove, Conservation in Africa, pp. 327--44.

-I221Towards a Global Synthesis

eviction oflocal farmers and their compulsory resettlement in unsuitableareas. Such schemes have themselves, not surprisingly, evoked stronglocal resistance in recent times by farmers who clearly understood thelocal ecological constraints better than state-employed 'experts' .134 In­deed peasant communities, particularly in the colonial context, haveoften been made painfully aware of the superiority oftheir own knowl­edge by the sheer degree ofvacillation over time in the kinds of'scientificadvice' offered for colonial and post-colonial land-use prescriptions.Pelzer records the tale of an off-duty Dutch official who fell intoconversation with a tani working his ricefield. When the Netherlanderasked the Javanese how he liked the local Dutch administrators, thepeasant good-humouredlyvoiced his irritation at their constant interfer­ence; 'One week they come and tell us to hoe with our backsides towardsthe sun and the next week they tell us we should be hoeing with ourbacksides away from the sun.' InJava, in particular, such attitudes helpedto explain indigenous hostility to government-sponsored migrationschemes. However, a more general lesson can be drawn about the natureofindigenous resistance to imposed notions ofland management based

, ., 135 S f hi' II d 'on expertise. ome 0 t e more recent eco oglCa y amagmg andcapital-intensive 'resource conservation' and 'development' projectsactually owe their original concept and inception to late colonial'development' schemes, many ofwhich were actually put forward as sopsto deflect nascent nationalist pro~ests about low levels of local invest­ment. The Shire Valley Project in'Malawi and the Jonglei canal schemein the Sudan have been examples of this phenomenon. In Ethiopia, theAwash Valley Development Project actually helped to bring to life theseparatist movements in Tigre and Eritrea, as local pastoral regimes weredangerously interrupted. 136 While ostensibly'conservationist', all these

Ecology, Climate and Empire220

schemes have proved ecologically unwieldy and highly invasive to local,evolved relationships between subsistence farmersllnd pastoralists andtheir respective environments. All have evoked bitter conflicts betweenlocal people and the state. 137

In recent years the media have accustomed. us to the spectacle ofindigenous peoples vigorously resisting the depredations of state forestconcerns, timber developers or dam-builders on lands vital for subsist­ence. However, as the above account should make clear, historicallyresistance to other more controlled forms of ecological transition hasbeen opposed equally strongly. Since the mid-eighteenth century theemerging discourses of natural science have played a major part in thisdynamic. As they have been .adopted by states in the course of thediffusion of capitalism, especially in the context of colonial rule,suchdiscourses have been utilised to justifY and promote unprecedentedacquisitions of control over large parts of the landscape, above all insouth-eastAsia and Africa ..In these regions forest reserves, game reservesand soil protection schemes have served to erode indigenous 'rights' andaccess to previously loosely defined or 'common property' resources. Tosome extent it may be possible to argue, for example in the case ofIndia,

, that colonial forest conservation, as an early form of'sustainable manage­ment', prevented what might have been an even more disastrous transi­tion under an unbridled capitalist regime of resource extraction. How­ever, since the systems of knowledge and even the more ideaJi~tic

conservationist agendas used to justifY colonial ecological control .realmost entirely externally derived, their impact on indigenous pe<j>leshas been almost entirely negative. Ignoring often long-evolved relation­ships between people and nature, the effects of 'conservation' havetended to profoundly threaten traditional mechanisms of subsistenceand thereby to threaten and alienate whole cultures from their environ­mental contexts. One should not be surprised, then, to find that attemptsto oppose the forces of capitalist ecological manipulation have been

frequent, although rarely effective in terms of restoring traditionalecological relationships. Equally, it is clear that the more closely oneinvestigates episodes of rural resistance to capitalist or monolithic stateambitions, the more one is likely to uncover the political significance ofthe ecological element in the motivation of the resister.

222 Ecology, Climate and Empire Towards a Global Synthesis 223

137 It should not be thought, however, that colonial conservation ideologies have had atotal monopoly in the stimulation ofresistance to overbearing attempts at managing thelandscape. There is a growing body of evidence to indicate that a whole series of soilconservation initiatives in Communist China have been abandoned since the early I%Osin direct response to widespread popular opposition.