Already a subscriber? Log in
It was Smith who stirred up Europe, starting at the Congress of Vienna, in opposition to the age-old ruthless slave trade organised by Algerian and other Arab rulers, whose sea-borne raids had terrorised the Mediterranean coastline and coastal villages as far afield as southern England and Ireland for centuries. Hence all those pretty walled towns where one has drunk one’s glass of wine. But once, not so long ago, Ramatuelle’s walls were not for decoration.
Pocock, who comes from a distinguished naval family himself (one forebear was a famous naval painter), tells the story with panache. He does not labour the modern parallels, though there are some. Activists at home, both religious High Tories and liberal progressives, demanded the imposition of European norms on Muslim rulers little inclined to accept them — particularly in relation to women’s rights. Realpolitik collided with ethical foreign policy, over Turkey above all, where the British ended up propping the Sublime Porte against invasion by Mehmet Ali from Egypt because although they wanted the Ottomans to survive (as a block to Russia) they did not want them to be as strong as they might become if led by Ali. This led to another successful battle at Acre, in defence of Turkey against Egypt, where my elderly great-great-grandfather commanded HMS Revenge, sitting on his quarter deck in an armchair with a boy holding an umbrella over him against the sun.
The contradictions all fused into one decisive, accidental battle at Navarino Bay which liberated Greece, the embodiment to northern European romantics of enslaved Christendom, or enslaved Peri-clean Athens, or both. They ignored the savagery meted out by the Greeks both to captured Turks and to each other. Navarino was a brilliant fleet action by Admiral Codrington, who got no thanks for it from a Foreign Office which had given him orders so contradictory that they make the Balfour Declaration seem a masterpiece of clarity: roughly, he had to prevent the Turks suppressing the Greeks, without siding with anyone, and preferably without firing a shot. Finding that difficult, he instead sank the combined Turkish and Egyptian fleet.
Throughout, the Navy had to operate as diplomat, deterrent, enforcer, and sometimes scapegoat. It even had to contend with a rogue Princess of Wales cruising the Mediterranean in a yacht with her lover. In spite of all, when it comes to suppressing slavery in the Mediterranean as well as elsewhere, the Senior Service ensured that Britain’s role was one of which we need not be ashamed.
Also in Book Reviews
Latest
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in