Policing The Fall Of Empire
British Colonialism, The Boomerang Effect & A Flamboyant Policeman
By Stuart Logie
“It should never be forgotten that colonisation had a considerable boomerang effect on the mechanisms of power in the West… A whole series of colonial models was brought back to the West.” – Michel Foucault.
Sometimes it takes a trained eye like that of a fossil hunter to see the legacies of colonialism in the stones of the present day. Take free trade, for instance, the cornerstone of the modern global economy. The doctrine of free trade asserts, among other things, an economic notion that has its roots in a colonial model, called Comparative Advantage. In the theory of comparative advantage, commodities were exported while manufactured higher-value goods were imported. The theory was illustrated prominently by British classical economist David Ricardo in his 1817 publication The Principles of Political Economy and Taxation. The theory has since been harnessed to bolster the Doctrine of Free Trade where resources shift from high-cost to low-cost production, ultimately boosting productivity. To a cynical Asian or African trade economist, however, free trade is western economic colonialism without the violence. (1)
Well, perhaps we can breathe a sigh of relief then that at least the legacy of colonial violence remains firmly buried in the past. Or is it? Could it not be like Comparative Theory, something that quietly becomes integrated into the supposed “new order” and takes a trained eye to uncover? There is certainly enough violence going on in the current global order to justify an inquiry. Maybe we just don’t understand the origins of this violence. Maybe the colonial violence has become normalised. And if so, how did that happen?
The historiography of colonial violence makes for desultory reading that reminds us that all colonial regimes owed their legitimacy to the use of force. (2) Yet one should be clear here that increased brutality did not make for a more successful colonial power. The French, Germans and Portuguese ran brutal colonial systems and remained minor colonial powers. The most successful and least brutal colonial model of them all – the British – reached its heyday as the scientific and industrial revolutions supercharged their empire. Without a doubt, the use of violence was essential to its colonial growth as well – during the Victorian Era there were 228 armed conflicts and hundreds more frontier skirmishes across the Empire – but it was a violence increasingly contained by modern systems, mechanisms and institutions that would someday merge into our own and create the so-called boomerang effect. One institution at the core of this legacy of violence is the Police, which played a key role in constructing and maintaining colonial state sovereignty. (3)
The much-vaunted British rule of law in a colonial state was more performative than normative, and in this, the Police had a leading role in presenting sovereign power in the raw. The rule of law was frequently interrupted by “states of exception” that became the norm, giving virtually unchecked ad hoc power to security bureaucracies, like the Police. In the second half of the 19th Century, Police violence had been a means of managing the poorest and marginal of society, but by the early 20th Century it was applied to new segments of the population – the educated middleclass.
The Flamboyant Policeman
“Sir Charles Augustus Tegart (October 5, 1881 – April 6, 1946) was a rather flamboyant figure,” Professor Michael S Silvestri of Clemson University told me. Silvestri is the historian specialised in Modern British and Irish History who knows more than anyone else about Charles Tegart, an Irish Protestant College dropout who became a famous colonial figure present at three major anti-colonial rebellions at the time: The Bengal Rebellion, the Irish War of Independence and the Arab Rebellion. “The combination of his personality, and his long and varied imperial career would lend itself well to fiction,” he stressed.
Yet despite Tegart’s flamboyant character and propensity for being present at the right historical moment, there is no Netflix blockbuster being planned (yet), and he remains to this day a relative unknown outside the realm of British colonial historiography. When Tegart died a week after VE Day – the moment the western world order changed dramatically – his legacy seeped into the recesses of a colonial past where no one spoke his name.
Was this because of his professional relationship with violence? Tegart might have even preferred that way, to leave nothing behind, indicating perhaps some degree a remorse or guilt at the hurt he might have caused – but I doubt it. His legacy was never his concern; he was a man of the moment. He did not reflect; he acted. He did not even like to write. No penning a Colonial Police autobiography in retirement for him. Yet none of this can obscure the fact that Tegart had operated at the core of the colonial machine of violence. His historical narrative as a top colonial Police Officer has meaning that resonates in the present day.
Read: Charles Tegart & The Imperial Boomerang
Charles Tegart’s story is part of the greater story of the fading arc of British colonialism as it passed through the lives of those put into turmoil by its demise. Movements of liberation started to take hold, and the barometer of violence began to rise. One crucial example flowed from Lord Curzon’s decision to partition Bengal in 1905. The carefully built Hindu relationship with the British suddenly and with little warning frayed and broke down as a restless and paranoid European population barricaded itself behind armed sentries. Tegart’s attempts to crush these and other rebellious movements against colonial order became the basis of his reputation as an expert in counterterrorism from which he made a late brief career at the highest levels of British Government.
Training A Policeman
Eastern Indian city of Patna was Tegart’s first posting after training school. While Tegart would go on to shape the Kolkata Police, it was the Patna Police that shaped Tegart. Patna was in the Bengal Presidency, the beating economic heart of colonial India and a vast machine of wealth extraction that generated reams of information. Colonial policing, meanwhile, was not so adept at information gathering and processing. For instance, colonial detectives traditionally collected information that they retained personally and then destroyed when they retired. In Bengal, that changed with the work of Patna Police Superintendent Colonel H M Ramsay between 1874-1881.
Ramsay recognised the importance of information in policing. He understood that if you could gather, organise and distribute information, there were benefits not only in the prevention of crime, but also in a reduction in Police corruption and laziness. Ramsay’s new techniques, described in his 1882 book Detective Footprints, became the longest serving codification of Police knowledge in the common law world. (4)
Ramsay’s innovations did not immediately reverberate in London for a simple reason: his system depended on a high degree of invasive Police surveillance, informers and spies, and other tactics of information gathering that would not have been tolerated in the Victorian metropole, London. However, they were perfect for colonial Bengal and they became the foundation of modern “preventative” policing in the colonial context.
Tegart quickly learnt how to navigate this new security geography of “Political Policing”. He read and understood Ramsay’s innovations and took them much further with the Kolkata Police; they became fundamental lessons in his creation and management of a modern Political Police Force in the second largest city in the Empire. Shrouded in secrecy by the first ever Official Secrets Act, political policing consisted of surveillance and countersurveillance, spies and informants, witness relocation, signal intercepts, secret renditions and black operations, interrogations with systemic torture, preventative policing and administrative detention, remote prisons and secret detention houses, all of which have become the hallmarks of the state war on terror we are familiar with today. It was policing at a new level of sustained and controlled violence. (5)
In the process, Tegart became an expert in counterterrorism for the Empire. He lobbied for specific permanent criminal laws for counterterrorism, which gave the first contours to this new criminal behaviour. Terrorism was an extraordinary crime that had extraordinary consequences for the criminal: a divestiture of citizenship with no protection under liberal law, a liminal space reserved for those who were deemed to be exceptionally dangerous criminals. The Empire already had experience with such violent, organised gangs: the pirates who threatened their imperial trading routes, and the Indian thugs who robbed and strangled travellers. In the eyes of the Empire, these brigands operated “beyond the pale” of law and norms of civilised society. Thus, colonial authorities dealt with them by issuing temporary ordinances which deprived these pirates and thugs of the due process of law.
Read: Colonial India’s ‘Counterterrorism Expert’ In Palestine!
It was colonial executive power at its most naked – and Tegart wanted it. Almost a century after the thugs had been eradicated, Tegart needed such powers again to eradicate the current terrorist threat. The exceptional power granted by such ordinances became Tegart’s go-to tool against the Bengali revolutionaries, and the application of these terrifying new rules and procedures made Tegart the most feared and hated man in Bengal.
The Special Branch
Tegart and his newly created Special Branch for political crime investigation led the repression of the rebellion using Ramsay’s techniques for surveillance and information gathering. Information, however, was useless unless acted upon, which meant arrest and detention of suspected terrorists or their supporters. During major sweeps under one or another new ordinance, mass detention camps were created for most of the suspects and their families.
Without such powers, Tegart felt strongly that the system of justice was incompatible with his mission to eradicate terrorists. His formidable network of informants was useless if he had to go through due process: no one would step forward as crown witness. It only worked if he had the exceptional power to arrest and detain for an unlimited period of time, or until he had eradicated the threat. Wherever Tegart came in touch with lawmakers, he argued that counterterrorism did not work if you have to produce evidence for judicial scrutiny.
A determined and often ruthless Tegart took the Government to the dark side of counterterrorism. He manipulated the courts with planted evidence and deceits. He preferred torture and interrogation over patient investigation. And he championed the use of ordinances to fight the terrorists who operated “beyond the pale”. His goal was urgent: the complete eradication of the terrorist network – at any cost. Over time, he convinced lawmakers to treat terrorism with permanent counterterrorism measures, such as the Rowlatt Act of 1919 to be drawn down when needed.
Using the extraordinary powers of the Defence of India Act during the First World War, Tegart succeeded in smashing the rebellion in Bengal. However, he did not eradicate it. Indeed, rebels, like M N Roy, fled the country to continue the rebellion from without where they sought the support of Britain’s enemy, Germany, and then Russia. Thus, the rebellion became a global issue for the Imperial Police and it needed experts who could operate in this new dimension of counterterrorism. Charles Tegart was its leading expert in this rebellion, and so in 1917 he was transferred to London to become the Deputy Director of the shadowy India Political Intelligence (IPI) Bureau where he worked until 1923.
Tegart was really just one among many anonymous Imperial Police Officers working discreetly in this regard. Tegart’s Indian Police colleagues Godfrey Denham and David Petrie (who later would become the Wartime Director of MI5) both supplied Tegart with intelligence reports from the far-flung corners of the empire on the international movement of Indian revolutionaries, arms shipments, financial transactions and propaganda materials. There was even an attempt by Denham to execute an extraordinary rendition of M N Roy in Mexico. Unlike his colleagues, however, Tegart was based in London where he actively influenced the views of the leading political decision-makers in the empire. This influence cannot be underestimated particularly given the forceful personal nature of the man and his absolute devotion to eradicating terrorism.
The Police View
After spending six years in London, Tegart returned to India in 1923 to be the Police Commissioner of Kolkata where the terrorists were once again gaining the upper hand. This time, Tegart was even a more formidable adversary. He had established relationships with the top decision-makers in London, including Victor Lytton who was Parliamentary Undersecretary to the India Office when Tegart was at IPI, and then later become the Governor of Bengal when Tegart was Police Commissioner. Their friendship allowed Tegart to create the largest intelligence gathering operation in the empire, and to virtually direct the counterterrorism effort across all of Bengal.
Not everyone agreed with Tegart. Some decision-makers in London felt it was sometimes necessary to “rise above the police view” – but they did so at their own risk. When the terrorists attacked the Chittagong armoury and the Bengal Government offices in the Writers Building in 1930, suddenly the Police view became more important than ever. After an assassination attempt that nearly succeeded, Tegart was returned to London where the Police view now became a fixture in the India Office.
Tegart worked closely with the India Office for the next several years to develop global strategies to combat the terrorist movement. He gave advice to the Bengal Governor John Anderson, another top Government official he knew personally from London. He delivered lectures on his experience in counterterrorism and prepared a report that detailed the scale of his counterterrorism activities in Bengal, all of which suited the needs of the India Office. At that moment, the Secretary of State for India was negotiating with leading political figures (including Mahatma Gandhi) and Tegart represented a handy sharp-edged tool for negotiations.
In 1935, the Secretary of State for India negotiated a deal with the Indian political leaders and Tegart’s role as a counterterrorism expert in India came to an end. It was not, however, the end of Tegart’s career in counterterrorism. His next assignment would leave a particular lasting legacy – the Tegart Forts – and solidify his reputation as the leading counterterrorism expert for the British State.
A Militarisation Of The Police
In 1936, a rebellion broke out in Mandatory Palestine, a relic of the Ottoman Empire that Britain had controlled since shortly after the First World War when the League of Nations gave it the mandate to prepare Palestine for statehood. The incipient state had a wrinkle, however, called the Balfour Declaration, in which the British Government had called for the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people. By 1936, the Arabs of Palestine were in full revolt against the British and the Jews. (6)
The British sent in the military to pacify the rebellion in the largest movement of troops anywhere since 1918. The British also had a long-term vision of state security that would depend on the role of the Police. For that, they turned to their terrorism expert, Sir Charles Tegart, for advice.
Tegart was offered the post of Director of the Palestine Police. However, he turned it down. In his mind, the days of pitched battles with terrorists were behind him. He was now in a position to shape government policy given his personal connections at the highest levels of the state. A new state would eventually be created and he saw an opportunity to shape a new kind of Police force based on his experiences in Colonial India.
Tegart first needed to work with the military to subdue the rebellion. He drew on his expertise from India when he had collaborated with John Anderson, the Governor of Bengal overseeing the first concerted militarisation of the Police in Bengal. After the Chittagong armoury raid, the military and Police conducted joint cordon and search operations to track down the terrorists: the military would cordon off an area known to harbour terrorists, and then the Police would conduct the actual searches.
When this failed to produce intelligence results, the military supplemented the ranks of the Bengal Intelligence Branch Police with Military Intelligence Officers (MIOs). This new intelligence effort was bolstered by the 1932 Bengal Suppression of Terrorism Outrages Act, which imposed collective fines on villages found to have harboured terrorist subjects.
Almost immediately the flow of intelligence improved and the counterterrorism tactic of “good village and bad village” was born. It was a shinning moment for the military, less so for the Police. The presence of the military changed the nature of Police areas of information gathering, interrogations and investigations, and marked an important turning point in the militarisation of the Police. It was counterterrorism at a new level of violence.
Five years tater in Palestine, as Tegart worked as a liaison between the Police and the military, he proposed the “good village-bad village” strategy of population-centric pacification. The result of these village-based punitive actions was a dramatic increase in Palestinian and Jewish collaboration with the military and police intelligence – just like what happened in Bengal.
Tegart’s mandate remained Police-focused in this newly militarised zone of policing. Yet at the same time, he had to respond to the military who were ultimately responsible for all the public security and counterterrorism; they would someday soon hand over complete public security to the Police. Before that could happen and Tegart heard this from Major General Bernard Montgomery, the same who famously advised the Palestinian Police to shoot men with hands in their pockets; the Police needed a more accommodating and militarised base to provide public security. Security of the Police first and then security of the public.
So was born Tegart’s only known legacy, his crumbling chain of Police forts in the desert sands, while the true extent of his legacy remains buried beneath the sands of time.
This article has been penned by Stuart Logie, the author of two books: Tegart’s War, A Story About Empire, Rebellion, and Terror (2025) and Winging It, The Making of the Canadair Challenger (1993). One might say that they are the bookends to an unpleasant career as a telecom sales executive offset by a passion for mountain biking. But do not discount the possibility of a third book. Logie lives with his wife in Montreal.
Recent Release: Tegart’s War: A Story of Empire, Rebellion and Terror by Stuart Logie
Available on Amazon, Amazon India and Kindle
(1) Acemoglu, D, Johnson, S., and Robinson, J.A. (2001) ‘The Colonial Origins of Comparative Development: An Empirical Investigation’ in The American Economic Review, Vol. 91, No. 2, pp. 1369-1401.
(2) Heath, A (2021) Colonial Terror: Torture and State Violence in Colonial India, Oxford University Press.
(3) Go, J. (2024) Policing Empires: Militarization, Race, and the Imperial Boomerang in Britain and the US, Oxford University Press.
(4) Giuliani, E.M. (2012) Policing Knowledge: Surveillance in Colonial Bengal, 1861 to 1913, University of Queensland PhD thesis.
(5) Logie, S. (2025) Tegart’s War: A Story of Empire, Rebellion, and Terror, Holand Press, London.
(6) Hughes, M (2019) Britain’s Pacification of Palestine: The British Army, the Colonial State, and the Arab Revolt, 1936-1939, Cambridge University Press
Further reading suggestions:
Cahill, Richard (2018) Sir Charles Tegart: The ‘Counterterrorism Expert’ in Palestine, Part 1. Jerusalem Quarterly 74, 57-66.
Cahill, Richard (2018) The Tegart police fortresses in British Mandate Palestine: A reconsideration of their strategic location and purpose, Jerusalem Quarterly 75, 48-61.
Chatterjee, Partha (2012) The Black Hole of Empire: History of a Global Practice of Power, Princeton, Princeton University Press
Chattopadhyay, Tapan (1982) The Story of Lalbazar: Its Origin and Growth, Kolkata: Firma KLM Private Limited
Eidelson, R. J. (2023) Doing Harm: How the World’s Largest Psychological Association Lost its Way in the War on Terror. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press
Ghosh, Durba (2017) Gentlemanly Terrorists: Political Violence and the Colonial State in India, 1919-1947, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
Ghosh, Charan Kali. (1960) The Roll of Honour: Anecdotes of Indian Martyrs. Kolkata: Vidya Bharati
Heehs, Peter. (1993) The Bomb in Bengal: The Rise of Revolutionary Terrorism in India 1900-1910, Delhi: Oxford University Press
Horne, Edward (1982) A Job Well Done: A History of the Palestine Police Force 1920-1948, London: Palestine Police Old Comrades Benevolent Association
Kanungo, Hem Chandra (2015) Account of the Revolutionary Movement in Bengal. Kolkata: Setu Prakashani
Kolsky, Elizabeth (2010) Colonial Justice in British India: White Violence and the Rule of Law Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
McMahon, Paul (2008) British Spies and Irish Rebels: British Intelligence and Ireland, 1916-1945, London: Boydell Press
McQuade, Joseph (2021) A Genealogy of Terrorism: Colonial Law and the Origins of an Idea, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
Popplewell, Richard J. (1995) Intelligence and Imperial Defence: British Intelligence and the Defence of the Indian Empire 1904-1924. London: Frank Cass
Roy, M. N. (1960) Memoirs. Kolkata: Allied Publishers Private Limited
Roy, Subodh (2015), Chittagong Armoury Raid: A Memoir. New Delhi: LeftWord Books
Samanta, Amiya K. (1995) Terrorism in Bengal: A collection of documents on terrorist activities from 1905 to 1939. Kolkata: Gov. of West Bengal
Silvestri, Michael (2019) Policing ‘Bengali Terrorism in India and the World: Imperial Intelligence and Revolutionary Nationalism, 1905-1939. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan
Tripathi, Amales (1967) The Extremist Challenge: India between 1890 and 1910. Bombay: Orient Longmans, 1967.
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