In An Imperial Disaster: The Bengal Cyclone of 1876, Benjamin Kingsbury argues that the factors that made this cyclone particularly destructive had less to do with nature than with the exploitative and iniquitous structure of the British Raj. Drawing on a combination of government documents and newspaper records, Kingsbury builds an impressive body of data to demonstrate his point. The book sets the scene for the disaster by providing the reader with details regarding the natural landscape of southern Bengal, in particular the districts of Bakarganj, Noakhali, and Chittagong, and the islands of Dakhin Shahbazpur, Hatia, and Sandwip. Kingsbury goes into considerable detail discussing patterns of settlement and the evolution of a highly unequal society split between powerful proprietors and poor cultivators with limited tenancy rights. The picture that emerges is a classic one of colonial Bengal: a hierarchical social order with absentee landowners at the apex, a bewildering variety of intermediaries, and immiserated peasantry at the bottom. Two features of the landscape are unusual though: first, the presence of the colonial state itself as the largest zamindar, and second, the precarious ecological environment that made cultivating communities vulnerable to cyclones and storms. Specifically, the intensive commercial cultivation of formerly forested and sparsely populated lands destroyed many natural defenses that the region formerly enjoyed.

The cyclone of 1876 hit in October and drowned around 215,000 people. Kingsbury notes differences of gender and class having an effect on the victims. The flimsy homes of the poor and social customs that reduced the mobility of women disadvantaged both during the storm. Kingsbury's book, however, builds its case on the government's response to the cyclone. In particular, he contrasts the estimates of Ebenezer Barton, collector at Barisal, who requested 50,000 maunds of rice as relief, and those of his superior Frederick Peacock, the divisional commissioner of Dacca, who provided less than a tenth of that amount.

Peacock's response, however, appears most generous when contrasted with that of Richard Temple, the lieutenant governor of the province. Temple appeared to have gone out of his way to actively prevent any kind of relief from reaching the disaster-affected areas; he wrapped up all relief work and prevented the dispatch of additional assistance with an alacrity that was impressive by any bureaucratic measure. In fact, if there is a villain in the story it is Temple. Ironically enough, he had built himself a reputation of generosity by organizing a comprehensive relief effort during a famine in 1874. While his efforts successfully ended the famine, the colonial establishment in India and England ridiculed his efforts, insisting that there was no danger of a famine in the first place. Indeed, it had a devastating effect on his career. Temple appears to have taken the 1876 cyclone as an opportunity to rebuild his career by demonstrating how a government can avoid its obligations towards its subjects in a moment of crisis. Kingsbury makes clear that Temple was entirely successful. Not only did he effectively stop all relief measures, he even ensured that a cholera epidemic that followed the cyclone, and certainly connected to the disaster, did not receive any more than the barest minimum of government assistance. The epidemic killed a further 100,000. Temple's decisions rehabilitated his reputation, and as a reward, he received a promotion as delegate to Madras to deal with famine there. There is much in An Imperial Disaster that is reminiscent of Mike Davis's monumental Late Victorian Holocausts.Footnote ¹ In fact, Davis has much to say about Temple in that book, and his interpretation of Temple and the nature of the colonial state is much the same.

Kingsbury's book is a searing indictment of the British Raj and would be of interest to the public debate on the British Raj that seems to have gotten a new lease of life since Shashi Tharoor's viral speech at Oxford in 2015. For the specialist, however, there are other interesting questions in the book. For instance, the apathetic response of Bengal's elite is striking. With some notable exceptions, such as the Nawab of Dacca, most zamindars followed the state line of refusing assistance. The Bengali middle class centered in Calcutta too appear ungenerous. While the vigorous press attacked the colonial state for its apathy, relief collection efforts failed miserably. Kingsbury suggests that differences in caste and religion may have played a part in this apathy. Most of the victims were from underprivileged caste groups and/or Muslim communities. It is also possible, however, that zamindars and members of Bengal's intelligentsia may have seen an opportunity in the disaster. Kingsbury's own research demonstrates that the poor were weakened politically and socially by the twin disasters. In particular, he mentions terms of trade when it came to dealing with powerful intermediaries and zamindars. Perhaps Bengal's elite anticipated such a development and withheld assistance for strategic reasons.