Deconstructing Childhood

I came across a copy of R.M. Ballantyne's The Coral Island the other day. It was one of my favorite stories as a child, so I thought I'd re-read it. I remember getting a copy as a prize when I was in primary school. Before beginning, I tried to recall the story. Given that I probably last read it over 40 years ago, I did pretty well! First published in 1857, the story features three young English boys who are shipwrecked on a tropical island, somewhere in the South Seas. They have adventures exploring their island; they witness some violent behavior by indigenous people who turn out to be cannibals; and the main character, Ralph Rover, is caught and taken away by pirates. I still remember being entranced by the descriptions of the island, and of the underwater cave that was to become their sanctuary. I even remembered what happened to the old cat they found, which had been left behind by a long dead castaway. It's quite a story, in the glorious tradition of "ripping yarns' much loved by bored schoolboys.

What I did not remember was the racism. Coral Island is not an easy book to read nowadays. There is an imperialism about the tale which may have been acceptable in the days of empire, but today it is simply embarrassing. For example, shortly after arriving on the island, the boys debate how to get home. One solution they consider is to find local people and get involved in the running of their tribe. Being white, they reason, they will naturally rise into positions of leadership and will soon be able to dictate affairs to their advantage. The natives will be only too willing to help them, recognizing them as natural rulers. What nonsense! Ballantyne's ripping yarn is full of stereotypes and false value judgments that would make even the most uninformed person squirm. No school would think of giving it as a prize today; it's probably not in many school libraries, except as an example of racist prose.

And yet, there are other assumptions in the book with which I heartily agree. The boys are Christians. They count the days so as not to work on Sunday. Ralph tries to lead a repentant pirate to faith, dredging up Bible verses to bring comfort and hope to the dying man. Towards the end of the book, a native Christian leader is shown to be an honest, industrious, and brave man. The advantages of the Christian life are stressed, repeatedly. When the horrors of 'savagery' are contrasted to the effects of Christianity, there is no doubt in Ralph's mind that the islanders need to accept his religion. In place of violence and falsehood, Christianity brings peace and honesty. To Ralph, there is no doubt that religion is a civilizing influence, and that it is to be commended.

Modern secular readers of Ballantyne's story will doubtless reject his religious views along with his racism. Like others, they will probably talk about the 'noble savage' whose pristine way of life was corrupted by the moralistic views of Westerners intent only on raping the resources of the land. In fact, William Golding's book Lord of the Flies was written (in 1954) as a direct attack upon the themes of The Coral Island. In it, Golding's shipwrecked Europeans become the savages, destroying the paradise they have found as they destroy one another. But this, too, is nonsense. There was no paradise. Some South Sea Islanders were cannibals; many lived in poverty throughout lives that were "nasty, brutish and short." If the eradication of violence is the standard, then Christianity did have a profound influence for good. It's all very well for modern historians to object to the activities of the missionaries as defacers of indigenous culture, but to do so is to ignore the bravery of those who, very often, gave their lives for the furtherance of the Gospel and the release of the oppressed. And, while we must accept that the worldview of some of those Victorian pioneers may have been tarnished by racism, we are not obliged to judge their intentions as totally flawed. Perhaps more to the point, if their perceptions were clouded by their assumptions, is it not true that ours are also, as are those of the commentators who now sit in judgment upon them?

A broader view of the importance of missionary work will reject cultural imperialism, but it should surely emphasize the centrality of the saving work of Christ for all people. When we give our faith away, we should be careful not to wrap it in cultural assumptions. That was Ballantyne's mistake - he equated the vision and growth of Empire with the Great Commission. For the islanders to become 'civilized' they had to become both Christian and, well, British. Their huts had to be whitewashed and set in rows; their gardens had to be well-tended. He assumed that Christianity would make them behave like Westerners. He was wrong. But we need not to throw out his assertions of the benefits of Christianity, just because he failed to see that Samoan Christianity need not look like that practiced in Southend or Suffolk.

I wonder, sometimes, whether denominational officials do not continue to make the same mistakes. Will future generations re-read the pronouncements of Louisville and shudder at the arrogance and the imperialism that insists that our view is always right? We all wear blinders. We all have assumptions that we find it difficult to discern. That's why we must always bring ourselves, our worldview, and our society into the blinding light of Christ.

Download a free copy of The Coral Island at http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/646