There still seems to be an enduring fascination with Britain's colonial history, a certain glamour and exoticism that survives despite the criticism and disapproval of the reasons for being there in the first place. This book fully exposes how little glamour and exoticism there actually was in the service of the Raj, how hard and gruelling the life of an Indian Civil Service officer (known as Civilians to distinguish them from the Army) could be, how lonely and isolating. Some men thrived, others sickened or went mad; some rose to the challenge, others were disorganised, inefficient and incompetent. Some were never promoted to the level they believed they deserved; others went all the way up to Viceroy.
David Gilmour's book follows the life of an ICS Civilian from recruitment to pension, charting the rise and fall of trends and empire-building, ranging from holidays at hill stations like Sinda and Ooty, to the 'frontiers' of the North-West Provinces, Burma and Aghanistan. It looks at the kind of men attracted to the ICS, how they were chosen, what their postings involved, the different roles and stations, their leisure time and personal lives. I could have done with more of a focus on the lives of their families, particularly the women - it must have been an incredibly lonely life for a new wife or mother. But the focus in this is very much on the men, not their dependants.
You wouldn't have thought a book about a civil service, even the Indian Civil Service, could be so interesting, but I thoroughly enjoyed this. Gilmour takes a very balanced approach, at no point approving of Britain's colonial past, but by the same token not condemning the men of the time by today's standards. The majority of the men in the ICS felt they were doing their very best for the people of India; some even went on to support independence. It would be unfair to dismiss all their motives as racist and self-serving, despite the inherent paternalistic oppression in the very nature of colonialism.