The Commander Judged by Reputation

A commander’s reputation is often determined less by the complexity of strategy and more by political machinations and the ease with which his character can be maligned in the public eye. This enduring pattern demonstrates how the judgment of history is inextricably linked to political agenda and popular narrative, separating merit from context. Two contrasting historical examples, that of Governor William Bligh and Field Marshal Douglas Haig, illustrate the power of reputation, one destroyed immediately by a caricature, the other posthumously condemned by political rivals.

The accusation of cowardice or callousness often serves as the most effective political tool to justify a commander’s removal or condemn his legacy.

Bligh and the Tyranny of the Cartoon

Governor William Bligh, already infamous for the Mutiny on the Bounty, was deliberately appointed Governor of New South Wales in 1805 to curtail the power of the monopolistic New South Wales Corps. Bligh quickly earned the enmity of powerful civilian and military figures, such as John Macarthur, by aggressively enforcing trade rules and supporting the welfare of poor settlers, directly opposing the monopolistic practices of the Corps.

This conflict culminated in the 1808 Rum Rebellion, Australia’s only military coup, during which Major George Johnston arrested Bligh. Immediately following the arrest, a propaganda cartoon was exhibited publicly in Sydney. This watercolor depicts Bligh being dragged from underneath a servant’s bed, an image specifically designed to portray him as a coward. The rebels intended this image to declare that Bligh was not a gentleman and was therefore unfit to govern. This propaganda, powerful in its simplicity, contributed significantly to blurring the reality of the coup and damaging Bligh’s reputation.

Historical Verdict and Political Critique

Reputation, Propaganda, and Moral Slur

The political cartoon against Bligh provides a perfect example of a narrative weaponized to justify treasonous actions. While Bligh claimed he was hiding papers to thwart the coup, the public narrative of cowardice—portraying him as hiding under the bed—was highly effective. Bligh’s reputation was ruined by a public narrative constructed by his enemies to legitimize the arrest and subsequent military takeover.

This immediate destruction of reputation contrasts sharply with the political assault mounted decades later against Field Marshal Douglas Haig, who commanded the British Expeditionary Force in World War I. Haig’s legacy remains intensely controversial, with critics condemning him as “Butcher Haig” for the catastrophic casualties suffered under his command.

WWI Attrition and Post-War Politics

Haig’s immense casualty counts (approximately two million British casualties under his command) were seized upon by influential post-war critics like David Lloyd George, who accused him of incompetence and reckless waste of lives. Lloyd George’s influential War Memoirs, published after Haig’s death, scorned him as “intellectually and temperamentally unequal to his task”. Lloyd George’s memoir effectively provided the “energy, respectability, and authority” to the critical “Lions led by donkeys” school of thought.

However, Haig’s defenders argue that the immense casualties were inherent to the strategic realities of continuous trench warfare, and his strategy of attrition was the only viable path to wearing down the German army. Haig himself argued that the heavy losses were “no larger than were to be expected” given the need for continuous offensives, noting that a purely defensive attitude could “never bring about a successful decision”. Modern analysis suggests that high daily loss rates during major World War II battles like Normandy (1944) were comparable to Haig’s offensives in World War I, reinforcing that high casualties were intrinsic to the era of large-scale land engagement.

The Long Shadow of Judgment

Both commanders faced character judgments that obscured the complex context of their operational environments. Bligh’s fate was sealed by an image of alleged cowardice that justified his overthrow in 1808. Haig’s legacy was defined by perceived callousness, shaped by critics who ignored that the immense losses were arguably necessary to evolve the British Army into the war-winning force of 1918.

The ultimate burden of command is the acceptance of judgment, often fixed on a perceived moral failing—Bligh’s alleged lack of gentlemanly courage or Haig’s attributed callousness—rather than the strategic or political impossibilities they faced. As the military commander in the American Civil War, Ulysses S. Grant, demonstrated, sometimes success depends on a willingness to endure heavy casualties, a quality Haig was also judged to possess, though negatively.

The Fragility of Historical Record

The historical verdict on command is rarely purely objective, serving instead as a mirror for the judges’ politics or the era’s attitudes. The comparison between Bligh and Haig reveals that an enduring legacy depends on avoiding two traps: instantaneous, image-driven political propaganda (Bligh) and sustained, posthumous condemnation driven by political memoirs and cultural exhaustion (Haig). True historical understanding requires separating the necessary brutality of the era from the character slurs used to simplify complex moral and strategic decisions.