In a job like that you see the dirty work of Empire at close quarters. As for the job I was doing, I hated it more bitterly than I can perhaps make clear. Theoretically – and secretly, of course – I was all for the Burmese and all against their oppressors, the British. For at that time I had already made up my mind that imperialism was an evil thing and the sooner I chucked up my job and got out of it the better. There were several thousands of them in the town and none of them seemed to have anything to do except stand on street corners and jeer at Europeans.Īll this was perplexing and upsetting. The young Buddhist priests were the worst of all. In the end the sneering yellow faces of young men that met me everywhere, the insults hooted after me when I was at a safe distance, got badly on my nerves. When a nimble Burman tripped me up on the football field and the referee (another Burman) looked the other way, the crowd yelled with hideous laughter. As a police officer I was an obvious target and was baited whenever it seemed safe to do so. No one had the guts to raise a riot, but if a European woman went through the bazaars alone somebody would probably spit betel juice over her dress. I was sub-divisional police officer of the town, and in an aimless, petty kind of way anti-European feeling was very bitter. In Moulmein, in lower Burma, I was hated by large numbers of people – the only time in my life that I have been important enough for this to happen to me. We rely on the generosity of donors, Friends and Patrons to maintain these free resources. The Orwell Foundation is an independent charity. Home / Orwell / Essays and other works / Shooting an Elephant Shooting an Elephant
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