A History of the Twentieth Century in 100 Maps - Hardcover

Bryars, Tim; Harper, Tom

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 022620247X ISBN 13: 9780226202471

Publisher: University of Chicago Press, 2014

Synopsis

The twentieth century was a golden age of mapmaking, an era of cartographic boom. Maps proliferated and permeated almost every aspect of daily life, not only chronicling geography and history but also charting and conveying myriad political and social agendas. Here Tim Bryars and Tom Harper select one hundred maps from the millions printed, drawn, or otherwise constructed during the twentieth century and recount through them a narrative of the century's key events and developments.

As Bryars and Harper reveal, maps make ideal narrators, and the maps in this book tell the story of the 1900s--which saw two world wars, the Great Depression, the Swinging Sixties, the Cold War, feminism, leisure, and the Internet. Several of the maps have already gained recognition for their historical significance--for example, Harry Beck's iconic London Underground map--but the majority of maps on these pages have rarely, if ever, been seen in print since they first appeared. There are maps that were printed on handkerchiefs and on the endpapers of books; maps that were used in advertising or propaganda; maps that were strictly official and those that were entirely commercial; maps that were printed by the thousand, and highly specialist maps issued in editions of just a few dozen; maps that were envisaged as permanent keepsakes of major events, and maps that were relevant for a matter of hours or days.

As much a pleasure to view as it is to read, A History of the Twentieth Century in 100 Maps celebrates the visual variety of twentieth century maps and the hilarious, shocking, or poignant narratives of the individuals and institutions caught up in their production and use.

About this title

About the Authors

Tim Bryars is an antiquarian map and book dealer living in London.

Tom Harper is the British Library's Head Curator of maps. He is the author or coauthor of numerous books, including A History of the 20th Century in 100 Maps and Atlas: A World of Maps.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

A History of the 20th Century in 100 Maps

By Tim Bryars, Tom Harper

The University of Chicago Press

Copyright © 2014 Tim Bryars and Tom Harper
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-226-20247-1

Contents

Introduction, 
A Weary Titan? 1900–1918, 
Top Dog! 1919–1945, 
Bust to Boom to Bust. 1946–1972, 
Out of the Red and Into the Blue. 1973–1999, 
Postscript, 
Endnotes, 
List of Maps, 
Further Reading, 
Picture Credits, 
Index, 

CHAPTER 1

A Weary Titan? 1900–1918

'The weary titan staggers under the too vast orb of his fate' was Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain's appraisal of Britain, and Britain's role in the world, in 1902. On the face of it Britain was the world's pre-eminent power. Shades of red or pink used to denote the British Empire on maps, such as the Navy League map (p. 20), coloured a fifth of the world's surface, and in 1900 approximately a quarter of the world's people were subjects of the British Crown. Recent studies of the 'British world' equate the period that ended with the outbreak of war with 'the first wave of modern globalisation'.

To an extent, however, the homogeneous red on maps of the empire is misleading. The same shade is used on self-governing dominions such as Canada and Australia; colonies with a long and involved history of contact with Britain, such as India; and newly acquired and barely explored African colonies, which often attracted a low level of investment. The balance sheet of empire is a complex issue, but overall this sprawling and diverse entity was not necessarily profitable or sustainable: Chamberlain's remark was part of an appeal to the Imperial Conference for greater support in sharing with the British taxpayer the defence and administrative 'burdens' of 'the vast empire which is yours as well as ours'.

The Navy League map is also a reminder that there were new rivals, such as Germany, for command of the oceans. Major railway schemes such as the Berlin—Baghdad railway (see p. 52) were indicators that Britain had lost her industrial lead, and that British sea power was in any case increasingly obsolete in a world where armies could be moved by rail across continents. It was an era of relative decline which opened with the international humiliation of the Boer War (see p. 18).

And yet the empire rallied to the flag in 1900 and again in 1914. The souvenir map celebrating the Relief of Ladysmith (p. 26) is a reminder of the keenness with which the British public followed the Boer War; and the comic zoomorphic map showing the European powers as scrapping dogs (p. 46) is a British contribution to the general euphoria that gripped most of the belligerent nations on the outbreak of the Great War (we have also included a Franco-Polish example on p. 48). It would be glib to suggest that the pomp and pageantry that surrounded imperial events such as the Delhi Durbar (see p. 42) should be ascribed to hubris, pure and simple. It would have been impossible for contemporaries to predict the impact of two world wars, or to assume that isolationist America would take on Britain's role as self-appointed world policeman.

In 1900 much of the world remained unexplored, or at least unmapped. This was the heroic age of polar exploration, which concluded with the safe return of Shackleton's Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition in 1917 (see p. 44). It was not, however, only the most desolate, inhospitable terrains that were poorly mapped: despite four centuries of European interaction with southern Africa, the maps provided to troops during the Boer War (see p. 18) were some of the worst ever issued to the British Army.

By contrast, our Trip to the Continent board game (p. 16) illustrates how the world was opening up for leisure travel. New forms of mass communication, such as the postcard, were also being developed: A Map of the World, as Seen by Him (p. 30) of 1907 is a gently humorous optical illusion—a slightly distorted map of the eastern hemisphere that becomes a woman's face. The combination of map subject and postcard medium feeds into our discussion on the growth of map literacy in this period. Other maps in this section, covering subjects such as the drug trade, the immigration debate and the relationship between Ireland and the United Kingdom, are very much of their time, but they can inform our understanding of topics that remain controversial a century later.

In 1914 Europe stumbled, or rather marched headlong with cheering and flag-waving, into a new kind of conflict for which it was wholly unprepared—and it dragged the rest of the world with it. Four years of carnage and a poisonous post-war settlement scarred nations and individuals both physically and mentally, and cast a long shadow over the rest of the century. As with all the conflict maps in this book, we have juxtaposed those that were intended to inform or influence opinion on the home front, such as What Germany Wants! (p. 52), with those that were used on the front line, such as our trench map of the Gallipoli peninsula (p. 50). Above all, we have attempted to convey the scale of a war that caused over 37 million casualties, brought down four empires, and changed the map forever.

CHAPTER 2

1900: A Trip to the Continent: Edwardian tourism

ANY RULES SHEET for this Edwardian board game vanished many years ago, but it seems straightforward enough. There are no snakes or ladders to delay or speed up the journey: no lost luggage, missed trains or banker's drafts to be collected poste restante. Players choose one of three routes to leave London and race to Berlin, spinning a totem or rolling dice. The map on which the game is based is so crude that one can safely discount any serious underlying educational purpose (many cartographic games of this period incorporate the capital cities of Europe, backed with useful facts and statistics about population or exports for the edification of younger players). It does, however, successfully convey where Edwardian Britons liked to go on holiday, which is in itself quite surprising. A decade later a 'race to Berlin' would have carried entirely different connotations, but in the years leading up to the Great War, Germany was one of the top tourist destinations and German culture was celebrated.

In the century between the battles of Waterloo and Mons the British 'discovered' the Continent as a direct consequence of a new mode of transport: the railway boom made travel faster, safer and cheaper at a time of rising prosperity for the middle classes. Travel would never again be the preserve of a monied elite, and by 1900 many recognisable elements of the tourist industry were in place: increased hotel capacity and other dedicated facilities in resorts, mass-produced souvenirs, group tours and travel agencies. Some Britons were already seeking out unspoiled corners where they wouldn't hear another English voice, especially a 'cockney' or lower-class one; as Shaw wrote in 1912, 'it is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making some other Englishman hate or despise him' (Pygmalion). A clear distinction was also drawn between 'travellers' and 'tourists' that isn't unfamiliar today. Among their Continental hosts, the British gained a reputation for insisting on their own cuisine wherever they went and for a lack of linguistic ability that compelled anyone connected with the hospitality industry to learn some English ('the great educator ... the missionary of the English tongue', as Jerome K. Jerome described the English-speaker who 'stands amid the strangers and jingles his gold'). Some of these early tourists also displayed a regrettable lack of respect for local customs. There are abundant recorded examples of (mostly Protestant) British tourists disrupting (mostly Catholic) church services in their determination to take in the sights. They were also lampooned for their curious dress—or rather, for being underdressed. Going on holiday was a chance to wear casual clothes (loud checks were particularly favoured), but dressing for the country, whether cycling in Normandy or strolling along the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, was bound to invite comment.

This board game reflects turn-of-the-century travel. Entry to the Continent is via the three French Channel ports: Calais, Boulogne and Dieppe, already known for weekend breaks if not for day trips. Boulogne had also supported a thriving debtors' colony since the 1840s. The tracks unite at Amiens, passing through Belle-Époque Paris, and then cross north through Cologne, traversing a splash of blue that may represent the Rhine (with no detour for a cruise, although that had been one of the most popular pastimes a generation earlier); Berlin is the ultimate goal. Rome would have been the natural destination of the wealthy Grand Tourist of earlier times. The game also ignores Switzerland, which had been one of the biggest draws for Victorian tourists. Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty wrestle on the Reichenbach Falls because of what Conan Doyle did on his holidays (indeed, Holmes manages to enjoy a week-long walking holiday before the fatal struggle).

The popularity of Berlin as a holiday destination began to wane in the Edwardian period, as it became increasingly clear that Germany, rather than France or Russia, would be the enemy in the event of a European war. For an Englishman's view of Germany in 1900, however, we have Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men on the Bummel, the sequel to Three Men on a Boat, in which the three friends take a cycling holiday in the Black Forest. Jerome mocks neither his mildly inept middle-class tourists nor their hosts in anything but the gentlest manner. After commenting again on the German love of order, Jerome writes: 'The Germans are a good people. On the whole, perhaps the best people in the world; an amiable, unselfish, kindly people. I am positive that the vast majority of them go to heaven.'

CHAPTER 3

1900: 'Better than nothing at all': mapping the Boer War

THIS MAP OF the environs of Bloemfontein, capital of the Orange Free State, was published for use in the field during the second Anglo-Boer War (1899–1902). In contrast to the following map (which was printed to boost morale at home), this was for military use, despite the alarming phrase that appears in the margin: 'this map is not to be considered as absolutely accurate'. At the beginning of the twentieth century great swathes of the world remained relatively badly mapped, if mapped at all. The quality of maps available at the outset of the campaign forms a substantial topic in the Minutes of evidence taken before the Royal Commission on the War in South Africa (HMSO 1903) and they have retained their reputation of being 'amongst the worst maps ever issued to British troops'. Lessons were learned, but like many others learned at great cost in the Boer War—the British Empire's first conflict in half a century against a 'European' enemy armed with modern weapons—subsequent application was patchy and haphazard. With exceptions such as the Survey of India, Britain's most comprehensive programme of overseas mapping was undertaken in the twilight of the colonial era after the Second World War (see, for example, the 1978 map of Rhodesia, p. 176).

A local South African firm, Wood and Ortlepp of Cape Town, was entrusted with compiling 'the Imperial Map of South Africa' on behalf of the Field Intelligence Department. Thirty-one sheets on a uniform scale of 1:250,000 were compiled in the nine months leading up to January 1900, which were printed between January and April. It has been estimated that of 120,000 that were printed some 95,000 were distributed. After the war ownership was to revert to John T. Wood, and examples exist which were subsequently sold to the public. The maps were bound with whatever came to hand: canvas, linen, card or paper. However, there was a certain continuity of a very personal nature: many of the maps, including our example, do not open out naturally to the right, suggesting that they were mostly mounted by someone left-handed.

The Bloemfontein sheet was first published in February 1900 and the city was captured in March. Our example is revised to April, and the date 7/12/00 inked into the lower left margin suggests that it remained current later in the year. No attempt has been made to mark the location of either of the concentration camps established at Bloemfontein by the British. The first of these, the first camp in South Africa, opened in September 1900; within months its population outstripped that of Bloemfontein itself. It is known to have been located on a slope (to facilitate drainage) a couple of miles outside the city, and it has been suggested that it may have been near the dam marked on Bloemspruit farm, just to the east.

Our map belongs to the last phase of the war. Realising that the British were winning the conventional war through sheer weight of numbers, the Boers organised Kommandos who used their superior knowledge of the terrain to mount ambushes before melting into the civilian population. Faced with a guerrilla campaign which pinned down 250,000 troops amid spiralling casualties and costs, and growing condemnation at home and abroad, the British resorted to a scorchedearth policy—controlling the terrain from a series of blockhouses, moving between them in armoured trains, destroying crops and farms, and herding the population, both African and Afrikaner, into camps.

Concentration camps were internment camps. The English term was coined during the war (although the concept was not unique, as is evident in the near contemporary reconcentrados of the American—Philippine War, for example). However, subsequent associations with Nazi death and labour camps (such as the camps on Alderney: see p. 106) should not distract from either the nature of the Boer camps or the tremendous loss of life that occurred in them through overcrowding, malnutrition and disease.

CHAPTER 4

1901: A glue spread increasingly thin: the Navy League map

THE NAVY LEAGUE map is the archetypal British Empire map, a vast creation nearly 2 metres in width, published by W. &&&; A. K. Johnston in 1899 and updated in several editions up to 1925. It shows the world on Mercator's projection with the British Isles and the empire coloured in red. Smaller strategic points, such as Gibraltar, the Cape of Good Hope, Suez, Panama and hundreds of islands, are underlined in red. Around the edge and in the spaces in between are tables and statistics recalling Britain's proud naval heritage (beginning in 1588 with the defeat of the Spanish Armada), its naval strength and its financial yield. It is 'dedicated to the children of the British Empire'.

Recent analysis of British Empire maps has dwelt upon their artificial use of dominant colour and distortion to demonstrate and uphold the reality of imperial Britain's authority, and with the British Isles positioned firmly in the middle, the natural providence of Pax Britannia. There was value in maintaining the imperial world vision, particularly in the minds of the youth (and what an overpowering vision it must have provided). But behind this show of strength was a growing doubt.

The map was one of a number of works published for the Navy League, an imperialist pressure group of politicians, retired sailors and enthusiasts, established in 1894 to promote the continuing centrality of the Royal Navy in the minds of the British and dominion governments. Commissioned by them, and updated at significant cost, it was a valuable reminder in meetings and conferences, educational spaces and in national collections of the particular importance of the Royal Navy in the creation and maintaining of the empire.

The naval glue that bound together this array of territories and dominions, while maintaining the balance of power, was by 1901 spread increasingly thin. Britain's fleet was the world's largest, guaranteed by the 1889 Naval Defence Act (which decreed that it was to be at least as large as the next two biggest fleets combined). But in the face of rapidly expanding German and Japanese navies, choices had to be made over modernisation and where the fleet should be positioned. It couldn't be everywhere at once, and dividing it reduced its strength, hence the dilemma: was the navy to protect British waters or those of its colonies? Were battleships to be apportioned to each of the 'stations' into which the seas were divided? Choices were required over the exact terms of the replacement of aged ships with the new dreadnought class of battleship.

The plans made by the Admiralty and government were scrutinised and debated very publicly by the Navy League in literature, pamphlets and at events. The League argued for decisions about the Navy to be exempted from traditional party politics, yet provided a popular dimension to the debate that was equally political. In such a high-stakes game the wrong choice had potentially disastrous consequences, the political and naval decision-makers mindful of an empire too large to maintain, and wary of their outdated ships and confident enemies. Britain's answer to her decreasing influence in the Pacific was to forge an alliance with her chief threat there, Japan, in 1902. However, no such admission of the navy's limitations exists in this particular map, or in powerful propaganda later to be produced upon the outbreak of war in 1914 (see 'Hark! Hark!', p. 46).

Others were apparently not so convinced of the long-term survival of Britain's empire through existing naval strength. In a seminal lecture to the Royal Geographical Society in 1904, the geographer Halford Mackinder demonstrated the marginal nature of Britain's maritime power against the secure Central Eurasian 'pivot' zone, which he argued was impregnable from the sea. He was clearly stating that sea power was not the only kind of power; Navy Leaguers in the audience would have been less than amused. Whether or not Mackinder's aim was to arrest complacency and refocus British minds on the defence of empire ('Greater' Britain as well as the British Isles), the point enables an interesting perspective on the world image contained in the Navy League map. For attention truly to be focused upon the value of naval power, surely the seas should have been coloured red instead. Perhaps the map had missed a trick.

(Continues...)

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Edition details

• Publisher: University of Chicago Press
• Publication date: 2014
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 022620247X
• ISBN 13: 9780226202471
• Binding: Hardcover
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 224