British Colonialism in Somaliland and the Sudan

EDITORIAL

It is one of the delicious ironies of Arab literary history that the modern Arabic novel that has gained the biggest international acclaim, and that is most widely taught in European and American universities was not written by an Egyptian, a Syrian, an Iraqi or someone from the traditional intellectual capitals of the Arab world, but was written by al-Tayyib Salih, a Sudanese. The novel is Season of Migration to the North (Mawsim al-Hijrah ila al-Shamal), and some critics have drawn parallels between it and Conrad’s Heart of Darkness., except that this time the main character, Mustafa Said, experiences the darkness in the heart of Europe. Perhaps one of the main reasons for the success of this novel is that it creatively and convincingly portrays the encounter between the Arab/African world and the West.

Al-Tayib Saleh’s great ability to explore the intricacies, the tensions and the possibilities of the relations between East and West is not limited to his fiction, for he exhibits a similar uncanny ability in his non-fiction, too. For example, in a recent article entitled “Colonialism is evil, so how could something good come out of it (al-isticmar sharr.fa-kayfa yantuj canhu khayr?” he pondered the dilemma that British colonialism in Sudan poses for any fair-minded Sudanese. The dilemma is this: Although colonialism is bad in principle, the fact is that British rule in Sudan was much better than the Turkish-Egyptian administration as well as the Mahdi’s tyrannical theocracy that preceded it. al-Tayib Saleh does not base his judgment on sycophantic or emotional attachment to the British, but uses objective criteria. To make his case, he points out that both the the Mahdi and the Turkish-Egyptians used excessively harsh methods to extract taxes from the population, whereas the British took into consideration the people’s living conditions and their economic situation. He also highlights that when the British left the Sudan in 1956, they left behind an efficient and capable civil service, free educational system, free health care, a wide network of railways, and a small but strong army that had proven its mettle during the Second World War.

Many of the things al-Tayib Saleh said about the British administration of the Sudan are also true of the British experience in Somaliland. We are not saying this out of nostalgia for the colonial days, but because objectivity requires it. To show the level of commitment of the British administrators to Somaliland and its people, here is an extract from a first-hand witness:

“The Gu rains were almost over when one day a tall thin grey-haired Englishman turned up at our bungalow and enquired politely if he might borrow Jack’s Land-Rover and driver for a few days.

‘My wife is at El Afweina,’ he explained. “She’s become ill, so I must go and fetch her. I can’t take my car – I don’t think it would get through.’

Jack readily agreed, and the Land-Rover set out with Abdi and the Englishman. Some days later, they returned. It had been a grueling trip, through mud and tugs, over roads made non-existent by the rains. The Englishman was exhausted, but he thanked Jack courteously, and he answered our questions. Yes, his wife would be all right. He had taken her straight to the hospital, and the doctor said she would soon be recovering nicely.

The man who had gone over the flooded desert to rescue his wife was the top administrative officer in the country, the Governor’s second-in-command. His wife had been at El Afweina because she was working in the miskiin camp there. Miskiin means ‘desititute’. During the Jilal, the government had set up several of these camps in an effort to save some of the people who were dying of thirst and starvation. Allotments of water and jowari were sent to the camps, and after a while it was discovered that several of the Somali clerks who were in charge of distribution were selling the food and water instead of giving it to the miskiin. It was not easy to find government officers who could be spared from their jobs, so the Administrator’s wife had gone to take charge of the El Afweina camp.”

The Prophet’s Camel Bell, by Margaret Laurence, pp.22-23

Source: Somaliland Times

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