I get it. It looks bad. In 2017, the British foreign secretary during a working visit to Myanmar, a former British colony was caught on camera reciting one of the most famous poems of the Imperial laureate, Rudyard Kipling. After striking one of the massive Shwedagon bells, Boris Johnson almost in a transcendental state began waddling back and forth among his Burmese hosts, while reciting the well-known lines: ‘For the wind is in the palm trees, and the temple-bells: they say… come you back, you English soldier’.  The visibly flustered British ambassador quickly cautioned him moments later, advising that such a public recitation was ‘not appropriate’.

At the time, the press back in England went nuts. The Guardian, leading the charge of the nutters produced an article that highlighted a bunch of interviews about how Kipling’s poem was ‘insensitive’. The Independent also led with ‘Stunning Gaffe: Appalled ambassador stops Boris Johnson reciting colonial era poem’ and so on. I’d seen the video before, sometime in 2021 but hadn’t paid much attention to the criticism that trailed it. However, while re-reading Kipling recently and listening to some audio recitations of Mandalay on YouTube, I came across the clip again which made me reflect. Was Boris Johnson really trying to disrespect his Burmese hosts by reciting Mandalay? I hardly think so. Most likely, the then foreign secretary was so overwhelmed by the significance of the scenery around him that in an almost other-worldly state, the memories of Kipling’s Poem were evoked, and he couldn’t help himself.

Rather than simply seeking to insult his hosts by evoking memories of colonialism, what Boris showed was a deep reverence for the historic imagination that was inspired by the ‘temple-bells’. This is in some ways akin to a Christian or Muslim pilgrim, visiting an ancient holy site for the first time, and in an unconscious or transcendent moment, begins to recite their favorite verses from the Quran or Bible.  Moreover, was Mandalay really praising the empire or colonialism? Absolutely not. While it is true that Kipling did write poems that glorified the empire such as the white man’s burden, the theme of the nostalgic Mandalay was primarily romantic. In this poem, Kipling was reminiscing about his affections for a Burmese girl, not banging on about the glories of empire.  

Kipling, who was born in British India was clearly captivated with what was then known in the British Imperial imagination as the ‘east’. In the poem itself, Kipling was more scathing in his description of England while he praises the beautiful environment of Mandalay. The line ‘when the mist was on the rice-fields an’ the sun was droppin’ slow’ can be sharply contrasted with Kipling’s grim depiction of England’s ‘gritty pavin’ -stones’ and the ‘blasted English drizzle (which) wakes the fever in my bones…’. He was also withering in his remarks about English women, describing them as ‘beefy and grubby’ unlike his Burmese girl, who is portrayed as a ‘neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!’.

Essentially, Mandalay was an ode to the ‘east’ rather than its denigration. From my perspective, the controversial clip reflects better on Boris Johnson than is often acknowledged. In fact, it is hard to imagine a modern politician in this age of boring technocrats who could connect with poetry in such a profound way. As Tom McTague, one of Johnson’s finest Biographers wrote:

‘Johnson is nothing like the other prime ministers I’ve covered. Tony Blair and David Cameron were polished and formidable. Gordon Brown and Theresa May were rigid, fearful, cautious. Johnson might as well be another species. He is lively and engaged, superficially disheveled but in fact focused and watchful. He is scruffy, impulsive, exuberant. He is the first British leader I’ve seen who genuinely appears to be having a good time.’

 In that clip, Boris Johnson was simply ‘having a good time’. Yet, it is not entirely implausible to suggest that he was also experiencing some Nostalgia for the British empire. Given his upbringing and education, Boris Johnson would easily fit in as a foreign office or colonial office mandarin in the late nineteenth or early twentieth century. Despite this, I find it very hard to imagine anyone deeply familiar with Kipling’s work, visiting the site of the Schwedagon bells in Myanmar and not reciting bits of Mandalay. This is almost like a Harry Potter fan visiting Christchurch or New College, Oxford and not being tempted to recite fragments of the magic spells or whatever it is they did in Harry Potter.

Some have dismissed Boris Johnson’s fascination with classics and literature as mere showboating, but this view is not entirely objective. While it’s possible that he does showboat sometimes, the clip showed that he is also someone who deeply feels the sublime power of poetry and its ability to evoke the historic imagination. Remember when he recited the first lines of the iliad in ancient Greek at a festival in Australia? Some have said this was pure showboating but as Mary Beard; a professor of classics at Cambridge rightly pointed out, the ‘orality of the poem is the point’. The iliad like most ancient Greek poems was originally sung rather than written in a modern sense and what Boris was doing was reciting it in the way it was meant to be experienced.

Essentially, rather than insulting his hosts as the British media portrayed at the time, Johnson was actually paying homage to them. Kipling’s poem became iconic because he captured his vision of the ‘British east’ in six unforgettable stanzas. To, everyone like Boris who can appreciate and feel the beauty in the poem, I say, Cheers!. if I’m fortunate enough, like Kipling, to fall in love with a girl from Myanmar, I know what I’ll be reading to her on our first date. It will begin with, ‘By the Old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ lazy at the sea. There’s a Burma girl a-settin’ and I know she thinks of me’.