A Culture of Bullies: An English Boys’ Boarding School Experience in the 1930s (article)

When my elder brother introduced me to sex when I was ten, we shared a guilty secret that bonded us together, but caused me also to feel ashamed. He had been introduced to sexual exploration at English boarding school. I must admit I made little objection to his actions at the time, which seemed like fun. I had no notion it had lasting consequences, or that some years later, when I followed him to the same school, I was to some extent already marked for discovery by masters who liked little boys.

The institution I attended was a modest but traditional private school founded on non-conformist Christian principles to teach middle class values to young people who were expected to achieve great things in later life. Theoretically free from the dogma and high church customs of Catholics and the Church of England, it still focused much effort on upholding religious belief. Like many other aspects of the school, the services conducted on Sunday were not exempt from double standards; they often seemed particularly hypocritical since the professed love, truth, and charity they preached were seldom to be found the moment Chapel was over.

By the time I arrived, there seemed to be a single educational belief that all authorities agreed upon: children are born with an evil nature for which the only correctives are discipline and punishment. Since our school prided itself on turning boys into men, it

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prescribed military-style parades, widespread corporal punishment, and a constant emphasis on competitive sports.

An immediate concern of mine, as a new recruit, was the school’s system of fagging. Each of the youngest new boys was assigned as a fag, or servant, to one of the senior students. On Sundays after Chapel, I had to cook and serve high tea (a full breakfast) to my adolescent master. If the fags did not do as we were told, we were routinely sworn at, roundly criticized, and given a few whacks with a cane for any clumsiness or hint of complaint. Cruelty was one of the first lessons we had to accept.

The attitude of many of the teachers was also a puzzle, as they gave us messages we found contradictory. On the one hand, I was told how lucky I was to belong to a superior class and to be attending one of the best schools in the country, but at other times I was publicly humiliated before my peers and sometimes beaten. Such acts were generally justified as “making a man of us” or “because we deserved it.” Even the few masters who did not rely on corporal punishment would put us down in other ways; they would frequently address us as “miserable sinners,” or assume we were lazy or stupid.

Despite these attempts, the boys’ personal conduct was not easily controlled in the dormitories at night. In those days, the school authorities seemed to believe that sexual ignorance was the ideal state. Sex was not to be mentioned, explained, or discussed. Sex was dirty; sex was sin. Though sexual ideas crowded the minds of the pubescent students, the teachers were uncomfortable talking about it and refused to answer questions.

I found one senior master who seemed genuinely different, however. Unlike the majority of teachers, he held degrees in both science and classics, and I truly believe he cared deeply for the young people he tutored. It was his kindness that attracted me to his inner circle. He treated us with the utmost respect, and his study provided a welcome refuge against the loud, bullying ethos of the rest of the school. I had no idea this highly respected man would be a pedophile in modern terms. But if he did damage, he also did good. Here I have to say something positive for at least some of the men who love boys. Boys need love. If boys are un-

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naturally confined within all-male institutions, so they can neither receive female love nor express loving yearnings in return, some will find solace where they can. We never received any instruction on how to treat women, or how to become sensitive husbands and fathers in preparation for living normal lives. Considering the influence men exert on their partners and children, I believe ours was a seriously dysfunctional education.

School did provide me with a practical education which has helped me to obtain relatively good jobs. However, its excessive use of punishment had a perverse effect: many of us were developing a false sense of being okay. On the surface we seemed to be strong, bright, well-adjusted young men. But underneath we were becoming deceitful. In order to escape humiliation, most of us became excellent liars and a code of silence prevailed much of the time. Rules were normally obeyed only when someone in authority was around. If caught in some misdemeanor, the boys tried to escape punishment by lying or by inventing ingenious excuses.

Unknown to me, this exposure to an unfeeling environment created subtle changes in my thinking which lasted long into my later life. Our school not only sanctioned bullying, it modeled it. Its whole sense of authority was based on controlling dissent through threats, punishment, and retribution. While I resented all the hitting and unfairness at the time, I didn’t understand that the constant exposure to threats and violence was fueling an anger that undermined our sense of decency. Some boys obviously enjoyed exerting power over others, but even the gentlest youngsters who started out as fags soon turned into bullies; and the constant need to defend ourselves against unprovoked attacks affected our self-esteem. Many suffered dark periods when they felt worthless and depressed. Deep down we wanted to hurt others as we had been hurt ourselves.

Since a tight lid was generally kept on the youthful emotions being suppressed by this system, a good deal of subversive energy was directed against the school. Breaking the rules without being detected was a recognized way of gaining prestige. Since many believed the only serious crime was that of being caught, those who rose to the challenge had to plan covert actions with the utmost caution. In fact, as I reflect on these memories, I can see I

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was lucky not to have been discovered by those in power. My rebellious spirit was making me a deviant. Although I only committed mischief, I shudder to think how easily I could have become entangled in the penal system’s net.

It is easy to dismiss this brutalizing treatment as just another tale about the trials of schooldays. But memories of this kind are not easily erased. Internalized feelings of shame and guilt have kept me silent all my life. Although I am over 90, I am still afraid of being judged for past events.

As I ponder my personal reaction after all these years, I am forced to think more broadly. If these events had such a powerful influence on me, surely they must have affected many others. The more I have studied the role of punishment, the more certain I have become that it distorts truth and confuses pain with justice. It robs young people of their ability to think straight and leads to the adoption of false beliefs. Of course, oppressive schools like mine were not confined to Britain, nor was brutality confined to the upper classes. Brutal schools were the norm in many parts of Europe and its colonies. This bullying culture, which believed in the supremacy of military force, not only helped justify the domination of distant nations, but also concealed how much of Europe’s wealth was gained at other people’s expense. I do not think it is an exaggeration to suggest that the collective grievances of suppressed populations helped spawn two world wars and even the Holocaust.

If society is to move beyond a constant pattern of wars and violence, the historical role of punishment needs to be addressed within the whole framework of international justice.

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