Shooting an Elephant

“For at that time I had already made up my mind that imperialism was an evil thing and the sooner I chucked up my job and got out of it the better.”

The narrator cannot show his support for the Burmese natives or easily leave his duties and responsibilities to the British military. The essay is the place where he admits his disgust for imperialism and his wish to no longer have any part of it. Readers are given a clear window into the persistent conflict he experiences between his position and his conscience.

“All I knew was that I was stuck between my hatred of the empire I served and my rage against the evil-spirited little beasts who tried to make my job impossible.”

Although the narrator hates his role as a British officer and the despotism that is connected to the ruling power he must obey, he is equally frustrated by the pressures of the natives, who often yell at and crowd around him. He is perpetually caught between two opposing forces, neither of which can he fully identify with.

“That is invariably the case in the East; a story always sounds clear enough at a distance, but the nearer you get to the scene of events the vaguer it becomes.” 

When masses of people are involved, it is difficult to get at the truth. In “Shooting an Elephant,” miscommunication is enhanced by the fact that the natives are from a different culture and perhaps not communicating in a way the narrator can understand; they are also eager for a show, for a spectacle of large proportions.

“They had not shown much interest in the elephant when he was merely ravaging their homes, but it was different now that he was going to be shot.”

The native people are excited about the shooting because they can win in two ways. If the narrator succeeds, the animal’s meat will be available. If he fails, he will be belittled in front of thousands who despise him. The Burmese are seemingly victorious in either case.

“It made me vaguely uneasy. I had no intention of shooting the elephant—I had merely sent for the rifle to defend myself if necessary—and it is always unnerving to have a crowd following you.”

Throughout the essay, the reader feels the encroaching crowd. Around the narrator’s growing internal battle, the crowd grows. Its power adds to the intensity of the circumstances.

“It is a serious matter to shoot a working elephant—it is comparable to destroying a huge and costly piece of machinery.”

The idea of value pervades the essay. Everyone’s identity is weighed in light of the setting and the British Raj. The Burmese are poor, uneducated, and lacking in resources let alone respect. The highly regarded elephant gains at least some social standing for them. which makes the scenario of the working elephant gone “must” all the more problematic.

“I looked at the sea of yellow faces above the garish clothes—faces all happy and excited over this bit of fun, all certain that the elephant was going to be shot. They were watching me as they would watch a conjurer about to perform a trick.” 

Violence as performance is a prevalent motif throughout the essay. The crowd knows it will gain the ultimate amusement when, no matter the outcome, the narrator becomes a pawn, at least for now, intended to entertain the native people.

“I perceived in this moment that when the white man turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys.”

Likely the most quoted line of the essay, the narrator realizes he is as much a plaything of the people as their ruler. The power of their numbers, and the narrator’s need to save face rather than follow his conscience, also makes him a victim of the imperial system. He should be in control given his position as a British officer, but the reality is quite different.

“To come all that way, rifle in hand, with two thousand people marching at my heels, and then to trail feebly away, having done nothing—no, that was impossible.”

There is no turning back for the narrator. No matter how much he laments that he does not want to do what is asked of him, his ego, mask, and public persona are at stake. He will do anything for the “hurrah” of the crowd.

“But I did not want to shoot the elephant.”

As if he must convince readers that he does not want to act as he does, the narrator repeats the line throughout the essay. In a continuous dialogue with himself, the narrator helps readers imagine the angel and devil on his shoulders as he questions his motivations for each step.

“The crowd grew very still, and a deep low, happy sigh, as of people who see the theatre curtain go up at last, breathed from innumerable throats. They were going to have their bit of fun after all.”

The narrator connects where he is from to the natives and the land he is in. Both groups revel in the drama and intensity surrounding a battle happening before their eyes. The narrator is shocked to realize that, rather than controlling the crowd, the crowd controls him.

“It seemed dreadful to see the great beast lying there, powerless to move and yet powerless to die, and not even to be able to finish him.”

The narrator finally shoots the elephant and does so again and again because he cannot bear how long it is taking for the beast to die. As if the elephant is controlling the narrator, the exaggerated slowness grates on the narrator’s conscience until he walks away.

“The older men said I was right, the younger men said it was a damn shame to shoot an elephant for killing a coolie, because the elephant was worth more than any damn Coringhee coolie.”

Demonstrating a divide between the older and younger members of the crowd, or perhaps between natives and immigrants to Burma from other areas of Southeast Asia, Orwell bears witness to yet another hierarchy between peoples and between humans and animals.