May 2025

George Orwell’s 1936 narrative essay “Shooting an Elephant” is often read as a critique of British imperialism, due to Orwell’s use of irony and metaphor when describing the British Raj’s occupation of Burma. Despite Orwell’s explicit condemnation of colonialism, his essay betrays views that reinforce the very ideology he seeks to dismantle. Through his characterization of the Burmese people, his depiction of colonial power structures, and his emphasis on his own moral conflict, Orwell implicitly upholds notions of white superiority. While he presents himself as a reluctant oppressor, his narrative centers the struggles of the colonizer rather than the suffering of the colonized. Orwell’s perspective, as well as his use of imagery and metaphor in “Shooting an Elephant,” contribute to his implicit justification of imperialism, even as he outwardly critiques it. 

Orwell’s portrayal of his own lack of agency at the start of “Shooting an Elephant” shifts the essay’s focus on colonial oppression away from the suffering of the Burmese and onto the struggles of the white colonizer. He opens his essay by writing, “In Moulmein, in Lower Burma, I was hated by large numbers of people” (29). The first verb that Orwell uses in the essay is both in the first person and passive. Such syntax paints Orwell as the victim of “large numbers of people;” he likely refers to the Burmese, though he does not name them at the start of his essay. He further victimizes himself when he writes, “[The sight of the Burmese prisoners] oppressed me with an intolerable sense of guilt” (30). The Oxford English Dictionary’s catalogue of usage traces the verb “oppress” to have been used since c.1382 to describe power dynamics between tyrants and minorities. With this verbal diction, Orwell subverts the power dynamics between the colonizer and the colonized, and he frames himself as the victim of the people his own country, England, has colonized. This is made even more ironic by the fact that he is quite literally enforcing the British Empire by voluntarily enlisting as a sub-divisional police officer in Burma, a British colony at the time. Orwell’s guilt is overshadowed by his framing of himself as the victim by placing the blame on the Burmese for causing him to feel guilt through his diction. Orwell further absolves himself of agency in the British Raj when he describes himself walking to find the elephant. He remarks, “I could feel [the Burmese people’s] two thousand wills pressing me forward, irresistibly” (33). With the diction of “irresistibly,” Orwell again constructs a dynamic in which the oppressed appear to wield power over him. In an alternate reading, he frames himself as the champion of the Burmese against the elephant, since he is marching at the forefront of the crowd. 

Orwell’s use of theatrical imagery throughout his essay further emphasizes his lack of agency. When he describes the townspeople crowding to watch him shoot the elephant, he writes, “As I started forward practically the whole population of the quarter flocked out of the houses and followed me. They had seen the rifle and were all shouting excitedly that I was going to shoot the elephant” (32). By referring to the “whole population of the quarter,” Orwell constructs the shooting of the elephant as a spectacle and frames the Burmese as his audience, thereby emphasizing the performative nature of his power as a colonial officer in Burma. Orwell also characterizes the Burmese as a “flock,” which equates them to animals and a hive identity with no individuality. Further, by suggesting that the Burmese people engaged only when there was Orwell’s performance of violence to watch, rather than when “[the elephant] was merely ravaging their homes” (32), Orwell subtly reinforces the colonialist idea that native peoples existed solely as observers, rather than active participants in their own political realities. He goes on to describe the Burmese audience as “watching [him] as they would watch a conjuror about to perform a trick” (33). Orwell here likens himself to a stage magician--the simile implies that Orwell’s authority over the natives is an illusion, one dependent on the “magical rifle in [his] hands,” rather than inherent power. Perhaps Orwell critiques the British imperial system at large by asserting that his presence in Burma is fueled purely by his ability to entertain a crowd. He is a performer, not a ruler. Again, he is devoid of agency. 

When Orwell realizes that he must shoot the elephant in order to please the Burmese crowd, he again employs theatrical imagery and metaphor to depict colonial rule as a performance that entraps the colonizer within the expectations of empire. He sets the stage when he writes, “Here was I, the white man with his gun, standing in front of the unarmed native crowd” (34). The apposition Orwell uses for himself, “the white man with his gun,” lessens his culpability in the colonial system by likening himself to a mere figurehead, rather than an active, individual agent. Additionally, this apposition prompts an ironic juxtaposition, in which Orwell’s external role as a colonial officer is reduced to a façade of authority, while his internal struggle with the situation renders him powerless. He then describes himself as “seemingly the leading actor of the piece; but in reality, I was only an absurd puppet pushed to and fro by the will of those yellow faces behind” (34). Both instances of theatrical imagery, “actor” and “puppet,” further construct Orwell’s metaphor of colonial rule as a theatrical performance. He states that, on the surface level, he is a mere “actor,” a role which rids him of culpability by implying that it is not in his true nature to be a colonizer. He then describes himself as an “absurd puppet,” which suggests that he is an unwilling participant in the colonial performance. Orwell frames his  self-consciousness about the performative nature of colonial rule within his observation that “when the white man turns tyrant it is his own freedom he destroys” (34). The third-person construction allows Orwell to distance himself from his actions by referring to the “white man”; here, Orwell shirks any personal responsibility. He goes on to write, “[the white man] becomes sort of a hollow, posing dummy” (34). The participle “posing” again is an instance of theatrical imagery, as it implies that colonialism is an act and involves an audience or viewer of some kind. 

Orwell’s metaphor of the “mask” evokes the same sense of psychological corrosion as Frederick Douglass’ depiction of the slaveholder in his 1845 autobiography Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass. Douglass asserts that slavery poisons both the slave and the slaveholder, and he writes: 

       The fatal poison of irresponsible power was already in her hands, and soon commenced its infernal work.

       That cheerful eye, under the influence of slavery, soon became red with rage; that voice, made all of sweet

       accord, changed to one of harsh and horrid discord; and that angelic face gave place to that of a demon.

       (Frederick Douglass, 33-4)

In much the same way, Orwell writes, “In every crisis, he has got to do what the natives expect of him. [The white man] wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it” (34). Orwell’s implication is that the colonizer, like the slaveholder, is not untouched by the system of oppression that he upholds. Douglass’ and Orwell’s narratives converge in their audience but diverge in their respective purposes. Both were writing for white readers—perhaps Douglass included these remarks to appeal to them. Orwell, on the other hand, was white and uses the mask metaphor to exonerate himself from the wrongdoings he perpetrated as a colonizer.

Orwell’s anticipation of the crowd’s reaction further frames the shooting of the elephant not as an act of personal conviction but as a spectacle. Orwell describes the crowd’s reaction as a “devilish roar of glee,” a description that likens it to applause at a play's climax (36). This shift in focus from the elephant’s death to the Burmese crowd’s enjoyment migrates responsibility for the violence away from Orwell and onto the spectators. Thus, Orwell makes the crowd of the colonized complicit in the colonial system, and he shifts the burden of guilt from himself. He writes that he “did not hear the bang or feel the kick” of the gun while shooting the elephant (36). His sensory detachment suggests that he has dissociated from the act. He fancies himself an actor performing a role dictated by imperial expectations. 

Orwell’s use of color in “Shooting an Elephant” is almost exclusively to racialize the Burmese people. His fixation on color reinforces the notion of white superiority and suggests that he holds an implicit belief in racial hierarchy. He refers to the Burmese as “yellow faces” four times throughout his essay; he grants their physical traits precedence over their individuality. To Orwell, skin is race. He immediately frames the Burmese as antagonistic when he describes “the sneering yellow faces of young men that met [him] everywhere” (29). The color “yellow” suggests a tainted whiteness, a spoiled version of Orwell’s own race. Perhaps these were the racial stereotypes common in Western imagination, and therefore Orwell’s own imagination, at the time. This association establishes the Burmese as alien and inferior to Orwell’s own whiteness. His racialized perspective continues when he describes the crowd that gathered to watch him shoot the elephant as a “sea of yellow faces above the garish clothes” (33). The word “sea” implies an overwhelming, natural force that renders Orwell, the lone white man in the scene, miniscule by comparison. His description of their “garish clothes” further assigns them a perceived crudeness and lack of refinement. Through this diction, Orwell positions Western garb as superior. Even in his climactic moment of supposed self-awareness in his role as a colonizer, Orwell’s focus remains racialized when he writes that he is moved only “by the will of those yellow faces behind” (34).  Soon thereafter, Orwell writes again, “But even then I was not thinking particularly of my own skin, only of the watchful yellow faces behind” (35). Orwell’s repetition of “yellow faces behind” emphasizes their control over him while simultaneously keeping them in the background of his narrative with the preposition “behind.” 

The phrasing of the latter instance contains a Freudian slip—Orwell’s mention of “[his] own skin” suggests the author’s unconscious preoccupation with race. The phrase implies that Orwell was, in fact, thinking of his own skin; therefore, he links his sense of self-preservation not just to his physical body but to his skin color, or race by metonymy, as a white man in the British Empire. In a moment where Orwell presents himself as morally conflicted, his wording betrays the limits of his introspection. Even as he laments the pressure of empire, he remains fixated on race as the defining framework for his world. This Freudian slips reveals that Orwell’s supposed crisis is not about the ethics of British colonial rule, but about his own racial positioning within it. His fear is not of doing harm as a colonial agent; it is of being mocked by the colonized. 

Orwell’s repeated racialization of the Burmese in “Shooting an Elephant” as “yellow faces” parallels his treatment of Moroccans in his later essay “Marrakech,” published in 1939. In both essays, Orwell dehumanizes the colonized by focusing on their skin color as a way of marking them as other and inferior. In "Marrakech," Orwell describes the colonized people as having “brown faces” (44), a racial marker that echoes his earlier depiction of the Burmese with their “yellow faces.” Both descriptions emphasize physical appearance over individuality, and they reduce the colonized to their skin color rather than acknowledging their personhood. 

Orwell further dehumanizes them when he writes that they could be “merely a kind of undifferentiated brown stuff, about as individual as bees or coral insects” (45). Perhaps Orwell was being ironic and attempting to hyperbolize the colonizer’s perspective through his writing, but the effect is ultimately unsettling, as it fails to subvert the colonial mindset that he supposedly critiques. If Orwell intended to expose the dehumanizing views held by white colonizers, his use of the phrase “undifferentiated brown stuff” perpetuates these views, rather than challenging them. The irony, if it exists, would then lie in Orwell’s exaggeration of the colonizer’s perspective of the colonized as a homogenous mass, but Orwell does not position himself outside of this perspective. The ironic distance that might have separated Orwell from these views is absent; his language and tone instead reinforce a racial hierarchy that renders the colonized insignificant. While Orwell may be attempting to highlight the absurdity of such perceptions of people of color, he ultimately fails to provide a meaningful critique that disrupts or challenges the imperialist ideology. Instead of dismantling the colonizer’s perspective, Orwell becomes complicit in it. Despite his surface-level critique of imperialism, Orwell’s reliance on these racialized descriptions in both “Shooting an Elephant” and the later “Marrakech” reveals his deep-seated colonial and racist views. Orwell’s depiction of race is a subtle reinforcement of colonial power. In this way, he works against the very critique he is attempting to offer.

In “Shooting an Elephant,” the figure of the elephant serves as an ambiguous metaphor for imperialism, yet Orwell’s treatment of it ultimately reinforces colonial rule rather than challenging it. Upon first seeing the elephant, Orwell notes, “at that distance, peacefully eating, the elephant looked no more dangerous than a cow” (33). If the elephant represents imperialism, then Orwell frames imperialism as non-threatening unless provoked. He then writes that the Burmese told him that “[the elephant] took no notice of you if you left him alone, but he might charge if you went too close to him” (35). When interpreting the elephant as a metaphor, Orwell suggests that imperialism becomes violent when agents, be they internal or external, interfere unnecessarily. Orwell proceeds to kill the elephant, an action that mirrors the maintenance of the empire. The act is ostensibly regrettable, though throughout the essay, Orwell portrays it as necessary to preserve his authority as a white colonizer. What is striking about the happenings of “Shooting an Elephant” is that no Burman ever explicitly asks him to kill the elephant. Orwell’s decision to shoot the elephant follows the assertion that the elephant might charge if approached too closely; this assertion mirrors the historical imperial narrative that violence is a justified response to a potential threat posed by the colonized. He writes, “The owner was furious, but he was only an Indian and could do nothing. Besides, legally I had done the right thing” (37). This statement not only reflects the inherent power balance under colonial rule, with the Burmese owner powerless to stop Orwell’s action, but also reduces the question of empire to one of pragmatism rather than ethics. Orwell’s legal justification for the shooting sidesteps the deeper moral questions surrounding imperialism; therefore, he reinforces the idea that colonial violence is a necessary means of maintaining order. By killing the elephant, Orwell reasserts his authority, and in doing so, enforces colonial hierarchies rather than challenging them. 

George Orwell’s “Shooting an Elephant” offers a complex and ultimately contradictory critique of British imperialism, as Orwell’s racist and imperialist beliefs shine through much of his writing. Much like Rudyard Kipling’s 1899 poem “The White Man’s Burden,” which portrays colonialism as a noble but burdensome task, Orwell presents imperialism as an oppressive system that ensnares both the colonizer and colonized. Orwell’s framing of imperialism as tragic, rather than celebratory like Kipling’s, offers a comparatively more self-aware perspective on colonial oppression. Yet, despite his critiques, Orwell’s own narrative focuses on the suffering of the colonizer by emphasizing his own feelings of guilt and shame along with the performative nature of his authority. The direct suffering of the Burmese people fall by the wayside. As a result, his essay fails to fully dismantle the colonial mindset and instead reflects the enduring complexities and contradictions of an empire where the oppressor is both aware of their role and yet unwilling to spurn it entirely.

Works Cited

Douglass, Frederick. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave. Dover Publications, 1995.

Kipling, Rudyard. The White Man’s Burden. 1899.

Orwell, George. “Marrakech.” Facing Unpleasant Facts: Narrative Essays, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1939, pp. 44–52.

Orwell, George. “Shooting an Elephant.” Facing Unpleasant Facts: Narrative Essays, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1936, pp. 29–37.

Oxford English Dictionary. Oppress, v., Sense 3.a. Oxford University Press, Sept. 2024, https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/1037181714. Oxford English Dictionary.