The last decade or so has seen a spate of books and films about the days of British colonialism. While much of this outpouring has been critical of aspects of those days, it is hard to avoid the sneaking suspicion that underneath it all lurks a fair amount of nostalgia. And here lies the danger in much of this material: it is one thing for colonial survivors to feel nostalgic (as it is hard for people to discredit important actions in their own lives); it is another for them to lure readers into sharing that feeling.

For British imperialism was not a pretty era. At best, it was paternalistic and authoritarian. At worst, it was degradingly exploitative and violent. How, for example, could the Chinese forget that, less than 150 years ago, the British waged war to force them to allow imports of opium and thus make addicts of countless thousands? And, more immediately, why should Aborigines join in the 1988 celebration of a white migration which led to their oppression and, for many, death?