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The Prime Minister and the platypus: A paradox goes to war
Studies in History and Philosophy of Biological and Biomedical Sciences 43 (2012) 290–297
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The Prime Minister and the platypus: A paradox goes to war Natalie Lawrence 1 St. John’s College, Cambridge University, Cambridge CB2 1TP, UK
a r t i c l e
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Article history: Received 11 July 2011 Received in revised form 16 September 2011 Available online 22 October 2011 Keywords: Platypus Winston Churchill Second World War Menageries London Zoo Gifts
a b s t r a c t In February 1943, in the midst of the Second World War, Prime Minister Winston Churchill demanded that a live duck-billed platypus be sent from Australia to Britain. A vigorous male was shipped off but died shortly before arrival in Britain. This request can only be understood if placed in the context of Churchill’s passion for exotic pets as well as the rich history of aristocratic menageries and live diplomatic gifts. Obtaining an animal hitherto unseen alive in Europe would have been a great zoological achievement for London Zoo and secured British authority in heated historical taxonomical debates. This zoological triumph, coupled with accomplishing an extravagant enterprise in the middle of war-time austerity would have boosted public morale. Most importantly, despite its death, the platypus, served as a token for mediating the soured relations between Australia and Britain. Churchill’s platypus provides a unique case of animal collecting that incorporates effects on international diplomacy and public relations along with a great private eccentricity and passion. Ó 2011 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.
When citing this paper, please use the full journal title Studies in History and Philosophy of Biological and Biomedical Sciences
1. Introduction In February 1943, in the midst of the Second World War, Prime Minister Winston Churchill decided to indulge a life-long curiosity. Despite the threats from sea and air at home and further afield, he wanted a live duck-billed platypus to be sent from Australia to Britain for the first time. Unfortunately, although a vigorous male was trained up and shipped off, he died shortly before arrival. Churchill’s request might seem incomprehensible: the whole episode was called ‘gloriously quixotic’ by the naturalist Gerald Durrell many years after. If placed in the context of Churchill’s passion for exotic pets, however, as well as the rich history of aristocratic menageries and live diplomatic gifts, the request appears less eccentric. My examination of the ‘platypus operation’ and its significance in various fields demonstrates that this was much more than simply animal diplomacy or trophy-collecting. Obtaining an animal hitherto unseen alive in Europe would have been a great zoological achievement and secured British authority in historical taxonomical debates. Moreover, achieving such a difficult feat would have been a publicly defiant, morale-boosting gesture. Most importantly, the timing of Churchill’s request and the symbolic nature of the platypus had
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political importance, and played a part in mending the broken relations between Australia and Britain. Despite its failure, the platypus operation achieved a number of these ends and mobilised relations between different communities in the political and zoological fields. Just as platypuses appear to transgress biological boundaries, this individual acted as a boundary object between widely different social groups, demonstrating the politicisation of zoological science in a variety of ways. There are numerous examples of political zoological debates, and diplomatic animals gifts have been extensively used through history. Churchill’s platypus, however, provides a unique case, where the effects of zoological collecting had implications for international relations, British zoos and zoology, Churchill’s public persona and national morale. 1.1. Churchill’s beasts Some of Churchill’s personal characteristics make his request for an exotic animal unsurprising. Churchill was drawn to animal-keeping and growing plants throughout his life, beginning at his childhood home, Blenheim House. During his travels in India and East Africa in his early twenties he developed an interest in
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butterfly collecting and hunting exotic mammals.2 In 1922, Churchill bought Chartwell House and began to develop the gardens and keep a variety of animals there.3 He invested much effort into the acquisition and welfare of his Koi carp, exotic ducks, cranes and aviaries. He also corresponded extensively about his black swans, white kangaroos, and lion ‘Rota’. These were gifts from various individuals and organisations, such as Churchill’s friend Sir Philip Sassoon, who gave Churchill his first black swan in 1927, leading to decades of swan-keeping.4 When one swan went missing in 1954, a nationwide search ensued before it was eventually retrieved from Holland.5 The white kangaroos were donated by the Livestock Owner’s Association of Australia (LOAA) in 1945, as ‘a gesture of esteem and appreciation’ of Churchill’s ‘inspiring leadership of the Empire’.6 Churchill arranged for them to be lodged at London Zoo until they could be accommodated at Chartwell and they were a central summer attraction.7 The LOAA pressed for a large public presentation ceremony at which Churchill promised to ‘make a short speech to the kangaroos’. He did not though, as he had acerbically remarked beforehand, allow the press to photograph him ‘in the kangaroo’s pouch’ with his ‘legs all sprawling about’.8 ‘Rota’ the lion, was a gift given with an ulterior motive. He was presented to Churchill in 1943 by George Thompson, one of the fellows of the Zoological Society of London (ZSL). Churchill did not plan to keep Rota at Chartwell, unsurprisingly, but joked that ‘the zoo is not far away and situations might arise in which I shall have great need of him’.9 Churchill regularly corresponded about Rota’s welfare with Ververs, the superintendant at London Zoo.10 When Rota died 12 years later, it became clear that Thompson had mercenary intentions. Thompson had made the gift contingent on the dead body being returned to him, which he then had stuffed and displayed as ‘Churchill’s Lion’ to be sold very profitably. ‘Rota’ was discovered to be a German rotary printing machine export firm, of which Thomson was the sales manager. The lion’s name was essentially an unorthodox advertisement. Thompson had, furthermore, fuelled a media campaign slurring the Zoo’s treatment of Rota to keep the name in the press. By the end of the interactions, the Prime Minister’s initial levity at being the lion’s ‘possessor’ had soured considerably.11 1.2. Aristocratic menageries and colonial collecting Churchill’s animals highlight a number of prevalent themes in the history of European animal collections, which I will explore briefly to set his request for an animal from a British ex-colony in context. Firstly, aristocratic menageries and game parks had 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
Buczacki (2007, ch. 2, p. 32, ch. 14). Buczacki (2007, ch. 11). Buczacki (2007, p. 199), CHUR 1/58.A 31. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.A 45, 47. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.B 259. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.B 248, 247. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.A.198, 193. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.B.430-2; ZSL Council, pp. 254–255. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 418, 405, 161. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 395-6, 332, 329. Kisling (2001, p. 56). Kisling (2001, p. 58, 62). Baratay & Hardouin-Fugier (2003, p. 108). Baratay & Hardouin-Fugier (2003, p. 107). Sramek (2006, p. 659). Sramek (2006, p. 660). Baratay & Hardouin-Fugier (2003, p. 113). Koenigsberger (2007, p. xiii). Koenigsberger (2007, pp. 66–71), Eaton (2004, p. 816). Koenigsberger (2007, p. 39). Rothfels (2002), prologue. Kisling (2001, p. 100). ZSL Council (1930–1973, p. 283).
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been common since the medieval period. One prominent English example was the Tower Menagerie developed by Henry III. It was effectively the royal menagerie since the thirteenth century, housing animals such as polar bears, lions and elephants in its heyday in the eighteenth century.12 Many early Victorian noble collections flourished due to improved animal husbandry and transportation capabilities. For example, George IV’s collection at Windsor housed the first giraffe kept in Britain.13 One of the most extensive collections was the Duke of Bedford’s at Woburn Abbey, including a kangaroo park and vast aviary. After the 1700s, animal-keeping also percolated down the social scale, with aviaries and deer parks appearing in smaller houses and estates.14 From the eighteenth century, many large European menageries became public zoological gardens.15 Aside from offering exotic attractions and later scientific uses, animal collections symbolised imperial prowess. The acquisition of live animals served a similar role to ‘manly’ hunting in the nineteenth century. The ‘heroic explorer-hunter’ conquered the ‘wild and untamed’, demonstrating domination over other countries.16 For example, vast hunting trips in imperial India slaughtered animals like tigers, traditionally the quarry reserved for Indian rulers.17 Baratay and Hardouin-Fugier argue that the hunting, confinement, acclimatisation and psychological appropriation by training of animals all symbolise colonisation.18 Just as animal displays were status symbols for early modern European nobles and municipalities, the economic and political power demonstrated by owning large exotic animals made Victorian zoological gardens important sources of national pride. Koenigsberger explores British ‘colonial display’, concluding that ‘the exhibition of zoological exotica represents a . . . delineation, and construction of Englishness and empire’.19 Iconic animals have long been used to represent colonial countries, such as the tamed and sometimes mutinous elephant symbolising British India.20 More than just exotic spectacles, zoos offered the possibility of an ‘imperial whole’, allowing the vast expanse of the empire to be incorporated and perceived in one space.21 Many early zoos developed this symbolism in their display methods, housing animals in the iconic architecture of their country of origin, and even alongside human ‘natives’.22 For example, Berlin Zoo was early to adopt this ‘exotic style’ of architecture, building an Indian temple ‘Elephantpagode’.23 Despite zoos’ increasingly scientific and educational orientations, this colonial influence continued into the twentieth century. During the Second World War, the directors of London Zoo planned to re-stock their collections systematically from different colonised continents, beginning with Africa.24 Even in 1982, zoos
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Fig. 1. Image of Sir Lionel Walter Rothschild with his zebra carriage (Wikimedia Commons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:WalterRothschildWithZebras.jpg (accessed 11/ 09/11)).
were described as sites ‘marking the persistence of imperial frames of reference’ by Salman Rushdie.25 The contents of zoos across Europe have depended on countries’ colonial activities, not only because of the trade routes and regions they could access but also because of the use of animals in diplomatic exchanges. Many early animal collections, such as the sixteenth century collection of Ferdinando de’ Medici, were composed of diplomatic gifts. These animals were often the most significant parts of collections and gift-exchanges, and this practice has continued even into the twenty-first century.26 From the nineteenth century, public zoos were used as the receptacles for animal presents, especially if given in a diplomatic context. For example, as well as hunting big game on his tour of India in 1875–76, the Prince of Wales acquired a large exotic animal collection.27 These animals were housed at London Zoo and were a big public attraction. Animals have sometimes been donated directly to zoos, such as the collection given to London Zoo by Nepal in 1906.28 Eccentric private animal collectors still existed into the twentieth century, however. One of the most prominent examples was Sir Lionel Walter Rothschild (1868–1937), who built up the largest natural history collection ever gathered by an individual. He was frequently to be seen riding a carriage harnessed to his four Burchell’s zebra through London (Fig. 1).29 Within this context, Churchill’s request for an Australian animal is less out of the ordinary. Antipodean species were lacking from zoological collections, except for a few examples such as the Duke of Devonshire’s kangaroo park or the echidna ‘Daydream’ that London Zoo acquired in 1903.30 To this day, almost no animals have been successfully kept outside Australia. The platypus was an iconic species in Australia, both in Aboriginal culture and for white Australians, and there was a notable gap in the ‘imperial whole’ represented in British zoological collections.31 Churchill had also asked 25
for a very curious species, in-keeping with the long-standing penchant for exotica in European menageries and the early twentieth century crazes for exotic pets such as ant nests.32 On the other hand, the nature of the platypus and the efforts required to obtain it were unique in many ways. Therefore, I will tell the story of the 1943 platypus project before discussing further interpretation. 2. Operation Platypus In March 1943, Churchill sent a request to Australian Prime Minister John Curtin (1885–1945) for six platypuses to be sent to Britain forthwith.33 Seeing a live platypus had been a long-term ambition of Churchill’s, and live specimens had never reached Europe, partly because of a stringent Australian law forbidding the removal of the species from Australia.34 In this case, however, a notable exception was made (Fig. 2).35 Michael Fleay at Healesville Wild Life Reserve, Australia, was asked to prepare the animals for sending and given little chance to decline. He did manage to persuade officials that, while one platypus would be considerably challenging, there was no person nor institution that ‘could feed six platypuses’. In April, Fleay caught a suitable male and christened him ‘Winston’. At a time when zoos worldwide were struggling to find sufficient animal feed, no expense was spared in preparing Winston or building a custom portable ‘platypussary’.36 Despite this investment, the operation was kept top secret. This secrecy both circumvented the possibility of any objections from Australian zoologists about the export of the animal and safeguarded against the damaging effects on public relations of a failed mission. Winston’s training took until September 1943. In the interim, the Rt. Hon. Herbert.V. Evatt, Minister of Foreign Affairs (1894– 1965) sent Churchill a stuffed platypus named ‘Splash’ and a book about platypuses ‘on behalf of the Australian people’.37 Finally, on
Koenigsberger (2007, p. 186). Butters (2007, p. 256), Ferris-Rotman (2010): For example, in 2010 Bulgarian Premier Boyko Borisov gave Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin a Karakachan puppy during oil negotiations. 27 Blunt (1976, p. 189). 28 Ververs (1976, p. 49, p. 85). 29 Gray (2006, p. 18). 30 Blunt (1976, p. 130): This animal survived very well, named ‘Daydream’, living for 30 years. 31 Moyal (2010, pp. 195–197). 32 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 78). 33 I have chosen the term ‘platypuses’ as a plural of ‘platypus’. There is no officially accepted plural term, but scientists often use ‘platypuses’ or ‘platypus’, though ‘platypodes’ is the correct declension. 34 Fleay (1994, p. 53–54). 35 Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 313. 36 Fleay (1994, pp. 53–55), Kisling (2001, pp. 106–107), Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 121). 37 Churchill papers, CHAR 20/94.A 10. 26
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Fig. 2. Telegram from B. Brendan (Ministry of Information) to Churchill, discussing plans for the platypus and its housing (Churchill, CHUR 1/58.B 313).
the 21st of September, the M.V. Port Philip sailed from Melbourne, carrying ‘Winston’, a carefully trained cadet as platypus keeper, and ‘50,000 specially chosen worms’ (Fig. 2). Now that the animal was ‘really on its way’ preparations at London Zoo began. Having no precedent to work from, building a permanent platypussary was to be delayed until the portable example could be copied. It was planned to keep the animal ‘quiet and secluded’, and to limit public access to an hour a day, following the precedent of New York Zoo, which had possessed the only other ex-pat platypus in 1928.38 The flurry of telegrams between the zoo, Australia House (Australian High Commission) and Downing Street demonstrate how little was known about the husbandry of the species outside of Australia. Plans for keeping Winston in London Zoo were to be based solely on reports from New York Zoo’s unsuccessful example, the mobile platypussary and scant tips sent across from Australia. Churchill and Australia House forbade premature publicity, but wanted heavy publicisation when ‘Winston’ arrived. Ververs planned BBC broadcasts and drafted a press release that included a nationwide request for worms, to be sent in jars ‘packed in mould or moist tea leaves’ to satiate the platypus’s voracious appetite.39
38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
Though the journey through the Panama canal and across the Atlantic was risky, the voyage was uneventful, and Winston was always ‘lively and ready for his food’.40 Unfortunately, on the 6th November, four days from Liverpool, Winston was found dead in his tank after a submarine attack on the Port Philip.41 While Fleay blames the ship firing depth charges alone, first-hand reports suggested additional factors in the death. W.J.Enright, the ship’s master, revealed to the Port Line office that the ship had followed a longer route than planned, and the keeper-cadet admitted that he had rationed the usual 750 worms to 600 worms a day because of declining stocks.42 Australia House informed Churchill of their conclusions that ‘Winston’ had been weakened by lack of food, lowering his ‘vitality’ and making him susceptible to the vibrations of the ship’s depth charges (Fig. 3a).43 The electrosensory organs on platypus bills are able to detect ‘the delicate movements of a mosquito wriggler’. The shock from ‘man-made enormities such as violent explosions’ would have been unmanageable.44 The Royal College of Surgeons promptly requested the body and Churchill telegrammed Evatt in late November to inform him of this and express his ‘great disappointment’ (Fig. 3b).45
Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 303, Garden committee (1861–1947, p. 50) May 1943. ZSL council (1930–1973), p. 311 Nov 1943, Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 284, 285. Fleay, p. 55, CHUR 1/58.B 278. Moyal, p. 177: Ironically, Healesville managed to breed captive platypuses for the first time in 1943. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 223. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 277. Fleay (1994, p. 56). Churchill papers, CHUR 2/325 55.
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Fig. 3. (a) Telegram from Australia House to Churchill’s personal secretary reporting the findings of their investigation into Winston’s death; (b) Churchill’s telegram to Evatt telling him of the death of the platypus (Churchill, CHUR 1/58.B 273, CHAR 20/124 114).
3. Unraveling the paradox The platypus’s manifold appearance, seeming both mammalian and avian in nature had fuelled speculations ever since specimens reached England in 1799.46 Several elements of these events were similarly paradoxical. Firstly, the demanding husbandry of the animal, forestalling all previous attempts to export them, was to be attempted at a time when resources were stretched extremely thinly. Secondly, Churchill’s request stemmed from personal interest yet had wide public and political ramifications. Lastly, the form of a ‘gift’ was central to these ramifications, simultaneously implying submission and creating an obligation. If Churchill had simply desired an exotic animal, he would surely have done better requesting one likely to survive in Britain, or arrive at all. 3.1. National menageries and politicised science Menageries have long been sources of national pride, and London zoo was keen to retain its reputation as a world leader in husbandry and breeding, fighting to stay open during the war.47 In addition to being emblems of colonial domination, zoos symbolised competition for preeminence between Western rivals.48 A Europe-wide species debut would be a considerable triumph.49
The difficulties experienced by European zoos at this time, such as heavy bomb damage, would make keeping such a rarely-seen animal even more impressive.50 Even during peace, only one of the five platypuses New York Zoo requested in 1928 survived its journey. Churchill asking for six animals might have been with a mind to breeding them, as he had managed with his swans and attempted with the kangaroos. This would have been in-keeping with the greater emphasis placed on conservation practices by some zoos from the early twentieth century, demonstrated by the development of openenclosure parks, such as Whipsnade in 1931.51 The platypus was also far more scientifically significant than most historical animal gifts. Through the nineteenth century, heated debates raged between French and British natural philosophers over the reproductive biology and taxonomy of platypuses, making the ‘monotreme secret’ a matter of national pride. On the British side, Richard Owen (1804–18) argued that platypuses were oviviparous and should be included in the group Mammalia. Owen’s view was vehemently opposed by the French naturalist Geoffroy St. Hilaire (1772–1844).52 The debate was propagated by the limited availability of specimens, due to the practical difficulties of collecting platypuses and resistance to the export of Australian fauna from some colonial scientists.53 It was only through the direct observation of eggs in uteri and nests in the late nineteenth century
46 Moyal (2010, p. 150), Ritvo (1997, pp. 3–4): early interest focused on the ‘resemblance of a beak of a duck engrafted on to the head of a quadruped’, single uro-genital opening, apparent lack of mammaries, and uncertain oviviparity or oviparity; Myers (2008): Platypuses also have electro-receptors on their toothless ‘bills’, low metabolisms, venomous spurs, and 10 avian-like sex chromosomes. 47 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 72). 48 Ritvo (1987, p. 231). 49 Garden Committee, May 1943, p. 50; Blunt (1976, pp. 132–3). 50 Whipsnade Committee (1947–1958, p. 29); ZSL Council (1930–1973, p. 274). 51 Kisling (2001, ch. 2.10). 52 Moyal (2010, pp. 142–144, p. 152), Ritvo (1997, p. 3–4): George Shaw produced the first description of the platypus in Naturalists’ Miscellany (1799), yet even he doubted its genuine nature, checking one specimen for stitches with scissors. 53 Moyal (2010, p. 68, p. 148).
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that agreement was reached over platypuses’ oviparity and nippleless milk-glands. Even in 1886, the Illustrated London Magazine still referred to ‘the egg laying myth’. Though by the mid twentieth century the unusual life history of the platypus had been largely explicated, contentions still existed over the details and wild platypuses had never been observed breeding. The taxonomic place of the monotremes is still debated even today.54 The strange biology of the platypus necessitated the observations of live animals, and significant ecological and behavioural understanding was only achieved in Australia by field naturalists such as Henry Burrell (1873–1945).55 London Zoo prided itself on being a world leader in scientific research, and having a live specimen of this enigmatic animal would stamp British authority on the historical contentions over platypus taxonomy and life history. Though the animal never reached Britain alive and thus did not fulfill these scientific possibilities, the event provided an understanding of platypus husbandry and life history in Britain. For one thing, it was highly unlikely that a request for as many as six platypuses would be made again. London Zoo was an important public attraction throughout the war. For example, when the Aquarium was re-opened in June 1943 after bomb-damage repairs, it attracted 18,816 visitors in only 5 days.56 Crowd-pleasing ‘curiosities’, such as the ‘Chimp’s tea party’ or ‘Winnie’ the tame bear had been a major draw. The platypus would have fitted well into this role because of its ‘three fold nature’, at once mammal-like, bird-like and fish-like. This paradoxical nature fascinated both the public and scientists despite the platypus’s ‘sordid and far from attractive’ appearance. Stuffed platypus specimens and images had featured ‘in non-specialist contexts’ more than ‘any other exotic animal of similarly insignificant size’ throughout the nineteenth century.57 Though the New York Zoo animal was exhibited for only an hour a day during its 7-day life, it attracted long queues of visitors.58 Churchill may have initially wanted a platypus for this inherent ‘curiosity factor’, but this characteristic also would have made the animal valuable for London Zoo, which required ‘a steady diet of amazing novelties’ for the public.59 Zoological curiosity was combined with popular science and colonial messages in zoos. In the nineteenth century, similarly hard to acquire animals, such as clouded tigers and Indian rhinos, were advertised for their exoticism, extreme rarity, scientific value as ‘extraordinary productions of nature’, and as symbols of British colonial power. 60 The popularity of London Zoo made it an important public platform, used to full advantage in events such as a patriotic exhibition of ‘British reptiles’.61 Demonstrations were run on keeping animals for food and a great ‘Rat Exhibition’ highlighted the dangers of unsanitary conditions.62 Another type of practical use of animals was demonstrated in World War I, when London Zoo’s sealions were trained to locate submarines.63 Even the highly impractical nature of
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the platypus was to be utilised, however. Ververs had planned to involve the public in obtaining worms for the platypus, turning the difficulties of keeping the animal into a collective national effort. Achieving the apparently impossible task of sending a live platypus from Australia would be a victory for British national pride, and a defiance against the wartime situation. Other ‘heroic feats’ were attempted through the war by European countries, such as the lauded SS Tibet Exhibition in 1938–9, searching for ‘pure Aryans’ and new geographical and natural historical material.64 There had been another gallant attempt to retrieve live platypuses in 1832 by the naturalist George Bennett (1804–1893), who transported a pair on horseback across Australia. Neither survived to even start the sea voyage, but their bodies helped settle debates in Europe because one was a pregnant female.65 Whether Churchill was aware of these historical scientific debates or the platypus’s importance in zoo-keeping, success would undoubtedly have boosted public morale. There was already a lively public interest in Churchill’s animals and a history of public adoption of favourite animal as mascots, such as the bear ‘Winnie’.66 The potential public effect of success or failure of the mission was implied by the insistence on secrecy until success was assured. 3.2. Looking a gift-platypus in the mouth Most significantly, the platypus ‘Winston’ served subtle political ends, despite the failure of the mission. During 1942, relations between Australia and Britain became very strained. Australia faced increasing difficulty in resisting the Japanese in South East Asia and resented its exclusion from the War Council. While the War Council thought Japanese invasion unlikely, the Australian prime minister became ‘excessively alarmed’ about the threat.67 There were also feelings in Australia that Britain was more engaged in the war on its own doorstep than repaying Australia’s past military help. Arguably, Churchill was always more concerned with his relationship with the US and the war in the Atlantic than in the Pacific. These factors caused dwindling political attachment to Britain in Australia.68 Curtin had been a consistent critic of Churchill, and in 1942 wrote in the Melbourne Herald that, ‘Without any inhibitions of any kind, I make it quite clear that Australia looks to America, free of any pangs as to our traditional links with the United Kingdom’.69 He insisted on withdrawing Australian troops from Europe, despite continued dependence on British forces and arms.70 This was a matter of great concern to Churchill. He was very loyal to the idea of the British Empire, which was disbanded in the early twentieth century into a loose ‘Commonwealth of equals’. While Churchill did not want the heavy imperial hand of the nineteenth century, he wished for a ‘civic polity’ of ‘united, federated’ countries in the ‘shining constellation of the British Empire’.71
Moyal (2010, p. 154, p. 159). Moyal (2010, p. 155): he was also the first man to keep captive platypuses, and coined the term ‘platypusary’.Blunt (1976, p. 131): He had 5 animals before WWI in Sydney Zoo, whom it took 5 hours a day to find sufficient worms for. 56 ZSL Council, (1861–1947, p. 280). 57 Ritvo (1997, pp. 3–4). 58 Blunt (1976, pp. 132–3). 59 Ritvo (1997, p. 6). 60 Ritvo (1987, pp. 216–217). 61 ZSL Council (1861–1947, p. 267). 62 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 82, p. 121) 63 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 81). 64 Hale (2007), Prologue. 65 Moyal (2010, pp. 74–82). 66 Ritvo (1987, pp. 228–9). 67 Gardner (1968, p. 186). 68 Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 22–4, Best (2001, pp. 228–229). 69 Gardner (1968, p. 142). 70 Best (2001, pp. 228–229). 71 Emmert (1989, p. 98), Best (2001, pp. 106–107). 55
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The absence of a relationship of any sort with Australia would be worse still.72 Though after the 1942 parting Churchill had remarked that the Australians were of ‘bad stock’, he seems to have made efforts to regain the ties.73 Acquiring a platypus, an animal so symbolic and highly protected in Australia, could be a token way of symbolically re-staking British claim over Australia, after Curtin had publicly ended Australian reliance on Britain. ‘Winston’ was to become accustomed to ‘our climate’ and ‘British worms’, becoming a British platypus.74 This was not simply Victorian colonial animal collecting, however. The interaction was effectively diplomatic gift-giving, but with a unique twist in that the gift was solicited. Mauss depicted gifts as given within networks of relationships, in which giving placed a debt on the receiver.75 While these ideas have been contradicted by arguments for ‘true gifts’ free from obligation, they are applicable in many contexts.76 For example, Ferdinando de’ Medici actually gave six and a half times the thousands of gifts he received.77 Churchill’s request to Australia, asking them to suspend tight regulations, and devote significant effort and resources to delivering his pet, could be seen as exercising British authority, but alternatively could be interpreted as creating a debt in Australia’s favour. In 1943 Churchill finally heeded Australia’s numerous requests for military assistance by sending warships and more of ‘the latest type of tropicalised Spitfire’.78 Fleay himself wrote ‘might not the little animals be urgers for more planes and guns? Even Ornithorhynchus was entering the war effort.’79 Ironically, in some ways the platypus also held its captors in thrall through the copious demands of keeping it alive. Historically, gifts have been displayed to achieve their value in complex diplomatic relationships.80 The display of the platypus in London Zoo would have ‘activated and publicised’ the meaning of the gift, just as Churchill was advised to achieve the ‘public object’ with a demonstration of military assistance to Australia.81 Australia could conspicuously oblige Churchill’s whims, and he could fulfill the role of colonial benefactor. Laidlaw characterises gifts as an ‘exchange of inalienable objects between’ reciprocally dependent parties ‘that establishes a qualitative relationship’ between them, contrasting with exchanges of ‘alienable’ commodities between ‘independent parties’.82 Churchill’s telegram to Evatt asking him if he was sanguine about the disposal of Winston’s body suggests that ‘Winston’ had a degree of inalienability. Churchill also cultivated his personal relationship with Evatt with invitations and hospitality. Evatt responded far more positively than Curtin, who consistently demurred on invitations, precluding the personal type of relationship maintained between Churchill and Roosevelt.83 In response to Australian requests for ‘more intimate collaboration in military matters’, Churchill pushed for Evatt to be appointed the permanent Australian representative to the War Council in 1943.84 This was despite resistance from the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who argued that it would ‘be 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89
difficult to give Australia this privilege’ and not other ex-colonies as well.85 3.3. Networks and boundaries of knowledge These measures improved Australian-British relations considerably by 1944. Yet there was another unusual aspect of the interaction, in that the gift required a heavy reliance on ‘colonial’ knowledge. Whilst platypus taxonomy and physiology had been a matter determined in Europe in the nineteenth century, most behavioural and ecological knowledge came from and remained in Australia. This contradicted traditional images of the imperial country as the epicenter of scientific endeavour, disseminating knowledge, with colonial scientists as mere ‘fact gatherers’.86 In this case, unique knowledge was generated through field-work and experience in Australia and passed to Britain. This much more closely fits more recent models of colonial science, such as Chambers and Gillespie’s ‘polycentric communications network model’.87 The platypus’s demanding nature necessitated close interaction between zoological and political circles in mediating the transferral of this knowledge. There was a network of communication between Fleay, governmental officials in Australia, Port Line Shipping Company, Australia House, London Zoo and Downing Street. The platypus served the different aims of each of these parties, so acted as a boundary object between political and zoological groups. Bowker and Star characterise boundary objects as ‘plastic enough to adapt to the local needs . . . of the several parties employing them, yet robust enough to maintain a common identity’.88 They are ‘simultaneously concrete and abstract’, just as a platypus individual and platypus species is. Though Star and Griesemer describe primarily abstract models in different scientific communities, the platypus was ‘plastic’, yet retained its identity.89 Each ‘social world’ had different requirements of the platypus: scientific specimen, exotic curio, public attraction, national emblem or political token. The different forms the ‘platypus’ could take served these various meanings, whether a set of logistical operations, a captive or wild animal, a preserved specimen or emblematic representation. For example, zoologists required live or preserved specimens, live zoo animals attracted the public, and international interactions occurred through cooperation over logistical planning and emblematic gifts like ‘Splash’. Consequently, the failed operation still affected international relations, yet never realised the zoological and public potential. This failure was obliterated from the public eye with militant secrecy. 4. Conclusion Churchill’s request probably stemmed from curiosity, his penchant for interesting pets, and perhaps the need for a little light
Emmert (1989, pp. 92–94). Best (2001, pp. 106–107). Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 313. Mauss (1967), Introductory. Laidlaw (2000, p. 617). Butters (2007, p. 250). Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 1-3; Churchill, CHAR 20/93 31, CHUR 2/325. Fleay (1994, p. 53). Cutler (2008), describing early Islamic diplomacy p. 92. Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 13–15. Laidlaw (2000, p. 620). Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 12; CHUR 2/35 58, 56. Prime Minister’s Office, PREM 4/50/8 436; DO 35/1466 5; CHAR 20/110 11. Prime Minister’s Office, PREM 4/50/8 435. Harrison (2005, p. 56). Harrison (2005, p. 63), Chambers & Gillespie (2000, p. 223). Bowker & Star (2007, pp. 296–297). Star & Greisemer (1989, pp. 408–409).
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relief. The paradoxical nature of the mammal-like, fish-like and bird-like platypus and the logistical nature of his request meant that the operation had much greater implications. The animal’s scientific and taxonomical recalcitrance as well as very strange appearance, made it significant to zoological communities and intriguing for the public. Its difficult habitat and dietary requirements meant that no specimen had been seen alive in Europe, lending it great significance for London Zoo. The zoological triumph of obtaining the first live platypus, coupled with succeeding in an extravagant enterprise in the middle of the war would have boosted public morale and London Zoo’s prestige. Most important of all was way in which the platypus, a request as well as a gift, served as a token for mediating Australian-British relationships. It represented both the acquirement of traditional colonial dominance as well as effecting exchanges which helped bind Australia to Britain again, through the collaboration over a shared project and a debt willingly incurred by Churchill. Therefore, the platypus, both symbol and species embodied in ‘Winston’, acted as a boundary object between political, zoological and public worlds, requiring collaboration between them and serving the different needs of each. The extent to which these multifarious meanings were intentional on Churchill’s part is difficult to gauge, especially because ‘Winston’s’ death prevented most of this potential being realised. Nevertheless, these factors suggest far more than simply English eccentricity. Acknowledgements I would like to thank Nick Jardine for his considerable help in finding a direction for this project and suggesting many useful avenues of thought, as well as much help in proof reading. Many thanks to the staff of the Churchill Archives, London Zoological Society Archives, Royal College of Surgeons Archives and the staff at the Port Line association for facilitating my research and helping to locate source material. Thanks also to Geoff Williams at the Australian Platypus Conservancy, David Wylie from the Curtin Prime Ministerial Library, Tim Brant of the Merchant Navy Association, Cyril Simmons and Ian Farquar of Vintage Port, and Anne Moyal for their help in my initial research. References Baratay, E., & Hardouin-Fugier, E. (2003). Zoo: A history of zoological gardens in the west. Reaktion books. Barrington-Johnson, J. (2005). Zoo: The story of London zoo. Robert Hale Ltd. Best, G. (2001). Churchill: A study in greatness. Oxford University Press. Bowker, G. C., & Star, S. L. (2007). Sorting things out: Classification and its consequences. MIT Press, Inside Technology Series. Blunt, W. (1976). The ark in the park: the Zoo in the nineteenth century. Hamish Hamilton. Buczacki, S. (2007). Churchill & Chartwell: The untold story of Churchill’s houses and gardens. Frances Lincoln Limited. Butters, S. B. (2007). The uses and abuses of gifts in the world of Fernando de’Medici (1549–1609). I Tatti Studies: Essays in the Renaissance, 11:243–354. Olschiki, L.S. (ed.) s.r.l and Villa I Tatti, The Harvard Centre for Italian Renaissance Studies.
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Chambers, D. W. and Gillespie, R. (2000). Locality in the history of science: Colonial science, technoscience, and indigenous knowledge. Osiris, 2nd Series: Nature and Empire: Science and the Colonial Enterprise, 15, 221–240. Churchill, Sir Winston Leonard Spencer, (1874–1965), The Papers of Sir Winston Churchill: The Churchill Papers, GB/014/CHAR [files consulted: Public and Political: General, (1898–1945), CHAR 2/465; Official: Prime Minister, (1940– 1945), CHAR 20/93.B, 20/94.A, 20/110, 20/124]. Cambridge: Churchill Archives. Churchill, Sir Winston Leonard Spencer, (1874–1965), The Papers of Sir Winston Churchill: The Churchill Papers, GB/014/CHUR [files consulted: Personal, (1945– 1965), CHUR 1/58 A-B; Public and Political: General, (1945–1965), CHUR 2/325]. Cambridge: Churchill Archives. Cutler, A. (2008). Significant gifts: Patterns of exchange in late antique, byzantine, and early Islamic diplomacy. Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 38, 1. Dominions Office and Commonwealth Relations Office, (1915–1971), Dominions Office and Commonwealth Relations Office: Original Correspondence [files consulted: DO 35/1132, DO 35/1461, DO 35/1466]. Kew: The National archives. Eaton, N. (2004). Between Mimesis and Alterity: Art, gift, and diplomacy in colonial India, 1770–1800. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 46(4), 816–844. Emmert, K. (1989). Winston S. Churchill on Empire. Carolina Academic Press. Ferris-Rotman, A. (2010). All Russia Invited to Help Name Putin’s New Puppy’. Reuters UK. (accessed Jan 2011). Fleay, D. (1994). We breed the platypus. Boolarong. Gardner, B. (1968). Churchill in his time: A study in reputation, 1939–45. The Chaucer Press. Gray, V. (2006). Something in the Genes: Walter Rothschild, Zoological Collector Extraordinaire, Lecture to the Royal College of Surgeons. (accessed 10/09/11). Hale, C. (2007). Himmler’s crusade: The Nazi expedition to find the origins of the Aryan race. Castle Books. Harrison, M. (2005). Science and the British Empire. Isis, 96, 56–63. Kisling, V. N. Jr. (Ed.). (2001). Zoo and aquarium history: Ancient animal collections to zoological gardens. CRC press. Koenigsberger, K. (2007). The novel and the menagerie: Totality, Englishness and empire. Ohio State University Press. Laidlaw, J. (2000). A free gift makes no friends. Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.), 6, 617–634. Mauss, M. (1967). The Gift: Forms and functions of exchange in archaic societies. Norton library. Moyal, A. M. (2010). Platypus: The extraordinary story of how a curious creature baffled the world. Allen & Unwin. Myers, P. (2008). Interpreting shared characteristics: The Platypus Genome. Nature Education, 1, 1. Prime Minister’s Office (1916–). Records of the Prime Minister’s Office 1844–2010, [file consulted: PREM 4/50/8]. Kew: The National archives. Ritvo, H. (1997). The Platypus and the mermaid: And other figments of the classifying imagination. Harvard University Press. Ritvo, H. (1987). The animal estate: The English and other creatures in the Victorian age. Harvard University Press. Rothfels, N. (2002). Savages and beasts: The birth of the modern zoo. John Hopkins University Press. Sramek, J. (2006). Face him like a Briton: Tiger hunting, imperialism, and British masculinity in colonial India, 1800–1875. Victorian Studies, 48, 659–680. Star, S. L., & Greisemer, J. R. (1989). Institutional ecology, ‘translations’ and boundary objects: Amateurs and professionals in Berkeley’s museum of vertebrate zoology, 1907–39. Social Studies of Science, 19, 3.387–420. Ververs, G. (Ed.). (1976). London’s zoo: An anthology to celebrate 150 years of the Zoological Society of London, with its zoos at Regent’s Park in London and Whipsnade in Bedfordshire. The Bodley Head. Zoological Society of London: ZSL Council, (1930–1973), ZSL Council minutes. Vol. XXXII, GB 0814 ZDAA. London: Zoological Society of London Archives. Zoological Society of London: Garden Committee, (1861–1947), Minutes of the Garden Committee, GB 0814 PAA. London: Zoological Society of London Archives. Zoological Society of London: Garden Committee & Whipsnade Committee, (1947– 1958), Garden and Whipsnade Committee Minutes, GB 0814 PAB. London: Zoological Society of London Archives.
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The Prime Minister and the platypus: A paradox goes to war Natalie Lawrence 1 St. John’s College, Cambridge University, Cambridge CB2 1TP, UK
a r t i c l e
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Article history: Received 11 July 2011 Received in revised form 16 September 2011 Available online 22 October 2011 Keywords: Platypus Winston Churchill Second World War Menageries London Zoo Gifts
a b s t r a c t In February 1943, in the midst of the Second World War, Prime Minister Winston Churchill demanded that a live duck-billed platypus be sent from Australia to Britain. A vigorous male was shipped off but died shortly before arrival in Britain. This request can only be understood if placed in the context of Churchill’s passion for exotic pets as well as the rich history of aristocratic menageries and live diplomatic gifts. Obtaining an animal hitherto unseen alive in Europe would have been a great zoological achievement for London Zoo and secured British authority in heated historical taxonomical debates. This zoological triumph, coupled with accomplishing an extravagant enterprise in the middle of war-time austerity would have boosted public morale. Most importantly, despite its death, the platypus, served as a token for mediating the soured relations between Australia and Britain. Churchill’s platypus provides a unique case of animal collecting that incorporates effects on international diplomacy and public relations along with a great private eccentricity and passion. Ó 2011 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.
When citing this paper, please use the full journal title Studies in History and Philosophy of Biological and Biomedical Sciences
1. Introduction In February 1943, in the midst of the Second World War, Prime Minister Winston Churchill decided to indulge a life-long curiosity. Despite the threats from sea and air at home and further afield, he wanted a live duck-billed platypus to be sent from Australia to Britain for the first time. Unfortunately, although a vigorous male was trained up and shipped off, he died shortly before arrival. Churchill’s request might seem incomprehensible: the whole episode was called ‘gloriously quixotic’ by the naturalist Gerald Durrell many years after. If placed in the context of Churchill’s passion for exotic pets, however, as well as the rich history of aristocratic menageries and live diplomatic gifts, the request appears less eccentric. My examination of the ‘platypus operation’ and its significance in various fields demonstrates that this was much more than simply animal diplomacy or trophy-collecting. Obtaining an animal hitherto unseen alive in Europe would have been a great zoological achievement and secured British authority in historical taxonomical debates. Moreover, achieving such a difficult feat would have been a publicly defiant, morale-boosting gesture. Most importantly, the timing of Churchill’s request and the symbolic nature of the platypus had
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political importance, and played a part in mending the broken relations between Australia and Britain. Despite its failure, the platypus operation achieved a number of these ends and mobilised relations between different communities in the political and zoological fields. Just as platypuses appear to transgress biological boundaries, this individual acted as a boundary object between widely different social groups, demonstrating the politicisation of zoological science in a variety of ways. There are numerous examples of political zoological debates, and diplomatic animals gifts have been extensively used through history. Churchill’s platypus, however, provides a unique case, where the effects of zoological collecting had implications for international relations, British zoos and zoology, Churchill’s public persona and national morale. 1.1. Churchill’s beasts Some of Churchill’s personal characteristics make his request for an exotic animal unsurprising. Churchill was drawn to animal-keeping and growing plants throughout his life, beginning at his childhood home, Blenheim House. During his travels in India and East Africa in his early twenties he developed an interest in
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butterfly collecting and hunting exotic mammals.2 In 1922, Churchill bought Chartwell House and began to develop the gardens and keep a variety of animals there.3 He invested much effort into the acquisition and welfare of his Koi carp, exotic ducks, cranes and aviaries. He also corresponded extensively about his black swans, white kangaroos, and lion ‘Rota’. These were gifts from various individuals and organisations, such as Churchill’s friend Sir Philip Sassoon, who gave Churchill his first black swan in 1927, leading to decades of swan-keeping.4 When one swan went missing in 1954, a nationwide search ensued before it was eventually retrieved from Holland.5 The white kangaroos were donated by the Livestock Owner’s Association of Australia (LOAA) in 1945, as ‘a gesture of esteem and appreciation’ of Churchill’s ‘inspiring leadership of the Empire’.6 Churchill arranged for them to be lodged at London Zoo until they could be accommodated at Chartwell and they were a central summer attraction.7 The LOAA pressed for a large public presentation ceremony at which Churchill promised to ‘make a short speech to the kangaroos’. He did not though, as he had acerbically remarked beforehand, allow the press to photograph him ‘in the kangaroo’s pouch’ with his ‘legs all sprawling about’.8 ‘Rota’ the lion, was a gift given with an ulterior motive. He was presented to Churchill in 1943 by George Thompson, one of the fellows of the Zoological Society of London (ZSL). Churchill did not plan to keep Rota at Chartwell, unsurprisingly, but joked that ‘the zoo is not far away and situations might arise in which I shall have great need of him’.9 Churchill regularly corresponded about Rota’s welfare with Ververs, the superintendant at London Zoo.10 When Rota died 12 years later, it became clear that Thompson had mercenary intentions. Thompson had made the gift contingent on the dead body being returned to him, which he then had stuffed and displayed as ‘Churchill’s Lion’ to be sold very profitably. ‘Rota’ was discovered to be a German rotary printing machine export firm, of which Thomson was the sales manager. The lion’s name was essentially an unorthodox advertisement. Thompson had, furthermore, fuelled a media campaign slurring the Zoo’s treatment of Rota to keep the name in the press. By the end of the interactions, the Prime Minister’s initial levity at being the lion’s ‘possessor’ had soured considerably.11 1.2. Aristocratic menageries and colonial collecting Churchill’s animals highlight a number of prevalent themes in the history of European animal collections, which I will explore briefly to set his request for an animal from a British ex-colony in context. Firstly, aristocratic menageries and game parks had 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24
Buczacki (2007, ch. 2, p. 32, ch. 14). Buczacki (2007, ch. 11). Buczacki (2007, p. 199), CHUR 1/58.A 31. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.A 45, 47. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.B 259. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.B 248, 247. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.A.198, 193. Churchill papers, CHUR/1/58.B.430-2; ZSL Council, pp. 254–255. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 418, 405, 161. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 395-6, 332, 329. Kisling (2001, p. 56). Kisling (2001, p. 58, 62). Baratay & Hardouin-Fugier (2003, p. 108). Baratay & Hardouin-Fugier (2003, p. 107). Sramek (2006, p. 659). Sramek (2006, p. 660). Baratay & Hardouin-Fugier (2003, p. 113). Koenigsberger (2007, p. xiii). Koenigsberger (2007, pp. 66–71), Eaton (2004, p. 816). Koenigsberger (2007, p. 39). Rothfels (2002), prologue. Kisling (2001, p. 100). ZSL Council (1930–1973, p. 283).
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been common since the medieval period. One prominent English example was the Tower Menagerie developed by Henry III. It was effectively the royal menagerie since the thirteenth century, housing animals such as polar bears, lions and elephants in its heyday in the eighteenth century.12 Many early Victorian noble collections flourished due to improved animal husbandry and transportation capabilities. For example, George IV’s collection at Windsor housed the first giraffe kept in Britain.13 One of the most extensive collections was the Duke of Bedford’s at Woburn Abbey, including a kangaroo park and vast aviary. After the 1700s, animal-keeping also percolated down the social scale, with aviaries and deer parks appearing in smaller houses and estates.14 From the eighteenth century, many large European menageries became public zoological gardens.15 Aside from offering exotic attractions and later scientific uses, animal collections symbolised imperial prowess. The acquisition of live animals served a similar role to ‘manly’ hunting in the nineteenth century. The ‘heroic explorer-hunter’ conquered the ‘wild and untamed’, demonstrating domination over other countries.16 For example, vast hunting trips in imperial India slaughtered animals like tigers, traditionally the quarry reserved for Indian rulers.17 Baratay and Hardouin-Fugier argue that the hunting, confinement, acclimatisation and psychological appropriation by training of animals all symbolise colonisation.18 Just as animal displays were status symbols for early modern European nobles and municipalities, the economic and political power demonstrated by owning large exotic animals made Victorian zoological gardens important sources of national pride. Koenigsberger explores British ‘colonial display’, concluding that ‘the exhibition of zoological exotica represents a . . . delineation, and construction of Englishness and empire’.19 Iconic animals have long been used to represent colonial countries, such as the tamed and sometimes mutinous elephant symbolising British India.20 More than just exotic spectacles, zoos offered the possibility of an ‘imperial whole’, allowing the vast expanse of the empire to be incorporated and perceived in one space.21 Many early zoos developed this symbolism in their display methods, housing animals in the iconic architecture of their country of origin, and even alongside human ‘natives’.22 For example, Berlin Zoo was early to adopt this ‘exotic style’ of architecture, building an Indian temple ‘Elephantpagode’.23 Despite zoos’ increasingly scientific and educational orientations, this colonial influence continued into the twentieth century. During the Second World War, the directors of London Zoo planned to re-stock their collections systematically from different colonised continents, beginning with Africa.24 Even in 1982, zoos
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Fig. 1. Image of Sir Lionel Walter Rothschild with his zebra carriage (Wikimedia Commons, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:WalterRothschildWithZebras.jpg (accessed 11/ 09/11)).
were described as sites ‘marking the persistence of imperial frames of reference’ by Salman Rushdie.25 The contents of zoos across Europe have depended on countries’ colonial activities, not only because of the trade routes and regions they could access but also because of the use of animals in diplomatic exchanges. Many early animal collections, such as the sixteenth century collection of Ferdinando de’ Medici, were composed of diplomatic gifts. These animals were often the most significant parts of collections and gift-exchanges, and this practice has continued even into the twenty-first century.26 From the nineteenth century, public zoos were used as the receptacles for animal presents, especially if given in a diplomatic context. For example, as well as hunting big game on his tour of India in 1875–76, the Prince of Wales acquired a large exotic animal collection.27 These animals were housed at London Zoo and were a big public attraction. Animals have sometimes been donated directly to zoos, such as the collection given to London Zoo by Nepal in 1906.28 Eccentric private animal collectors still existed into the twentieth century, however. One of the most prominent examples was Sir Lionel Walter Rothschild (1868–1937), who built up the largest natural history collection ever gathered by an individual. He was frequently to be seen riding a carriage harnessed to his four Burchell’s zebra through London (Fig. 1).29 Within this context, Churchill’s request for an Australian animal is less out of the ordinary. Antipodean species were lacking from zoological collections, except for a few examples such as the Duke of Devonshire’s kangaroo park or the echidna ‘Daydream’ that London Zoo acquired in 1903.30 To this day, almost no animals have been successfully kept outside Australia. The platypus was an iconic species in Australia, both in Aboriginal culture and for white Australians, and there was a notable gap in the ‘imperial whole’ represented in British zoological collections.31 Churchill had also asked 25
for a very curious species, in-keeping with the long-standing penchant for exotica in European menageries and the early twentieth century crazes for exotic pets such as ant nests.32 On the other hand, the nature of the platypus and the efforts required to obtain it were unique in many ways. Therefore, I will tell the story of the 1943 platypus project before discussing further interpretation. 2. Operation Platypus In March 1943, Churchill sent a request to Australian Prime Minister John Curtin (1885–1945) for six platypuses to be sent to Britain forthwith.33 Seeing a live platypus had been a long-term ambition of Churchill’s, and live specimens had never reached Europe, partly because of a stringent Australian law forbidding the removal of the species from Australia.34 In this case, however, a notable exception was made (Fig. 2).35 Michael Fleay at Healesville Wild Life Reserve, Australia, was asked to prepare the animals for sending and given little chance to decline. He did manage to persuade officials that, while one platypus would be considerably challenging, there was no person nor institution that ‘could feed six platypuses’. In April, Fleay caught a suitable male and christened him ‘Winston’. At a time when zoos worldwide were struggling to find sufficient animal feed, no expense was spared in preparing Winston or building a custom portable ‘platypussary’.36 Despite this investment, the operation was kept top secret. This secrecy both circumvented the possibility of any objections from Australian zoologists about the export of the animal and safeguarded against the damaging effects on public relations of a failed mission. Winston’s training took until September 1943. In the interim, the Rt. Hon. Herbert.V. Evatt, Minister of Foreign Affairs (1894– 1965) sent Churchill a stuffed platypus named ‘Splash’ and a book about platypuses ‘on behalf of the Australian people’.37 Finally, on
Koenigsberger (2007, p. 186). Butters (2007, p. 256), Ferris-Rotman (2010): For example, in 2010 Bulgarian Premier Boyko Borisov gave Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin a Karakachan puppy during oil negotiations. 27 Blunt (1976, p. 189). 28 Ververs (1976, p. 49, p. 85). 29 Gray (2006, p. 18). 30 Blunt (1976, p. 130): This animal survived very well, named ‘Daydream’, living for 30 years. 31 Moyal (2010, pp. 195–197). 32 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 78). 33 I have chosen the term ‘platypuses’ as a plural of ‘platypus’. There is no officially accepted plural term, but scientists often use ‘platypuses’ or ‘platypus’, though ‘platypodes’ is the correct declension. 34 Fleay (1994, p. 53–54). 35 Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 313. 36 Fleay (1994, pp. 53–55), Kisling (2001, pp. 106–107), Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 121). 37 Churchill papers, CHAR 20/94.A 10. 26
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Fig. 2. Telegram from B. Brendan (Ministry of Information) to Churchill, discussing plans for the platypus and its housing (Churchill, CHUR 1/58.B 313).
the 21st of September, the M.V. Port Philip sailed from Melbourne, carrying ‘Winston’, a carefully trained cadet as platypus keeper, and ‘50,000 specially chosen worms’ (Fig. 2). Now that the animal was ‘really on its way’ preparations at London Zoo began. Having no precedent to work from, building a permanent platypussary was to be delayed until the portable example could be copied. It was planned to keep the animal ‘quiet and secluded’, and to limit public access to an hour a day, following the precedent of New York Zoo, which had possessed the only other ex-pat platypus in 1928.38 The flurry of telegrams between the zoo, Australia House (Australian High Commission) and Downing Street demonstrate how little was known about the husbandry of the species outside of Australia. Plans for keeping Winston in London Zoo were to be based solely on reports from New York Zoo’s unsuccessful example, the mobile platypussary and scant tips sent across from Australia. Churchill and Australia House forbade premature publicity, but wanted heavy publicisation when ‘Winston’ arrived. Ververs planned BBC broadcasts and drafted a press release that included a nationwide request for worms, to be sent in jars ‘packed in mould or moist tea leaves’ to satiate the platypus’s voracious appetite.39
38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
Though the journey through the Panama canal and across the Atlantic was risky, the voyage was uneventful, and Winston was always ‘lively and ready for his food’.40 Unfortunately, on the 6th November, four days from Liverpool, Winston was found dead in his tank after a submarine attack on the Port Philip.41 While Fleay blames the ship firing depth charges alone, first-hand reports suggested additional factors in the death. W.J.Enright, the ship’s master, revealed to the Port Line office that the ship had followed a longer route than planned, and the keeper-cadet admitted that he had rationed the usual 750 worms to 600 worms a day because of declining stocks.42 Australia House informed Churchill of their conclusions that ‘Winston’ had been weakened by lack of food, lowering his ‘vitality’ and making him susceptible to the vibrations of the ship’s depth charges (Fig. 3a).43 The electrosensory organs on platypus bills are able to detect ‘the delicate movements of a mosquito wriggler’. The shock from ‘man-made enormities such as violent explosions’ would have been unmanageable.44 The Royal College of Surgeons promptly requested the body and Churchill telegrammed Evatt in late November to inform him of this and express his ‘great disappointment’ (Fig. 3b).45
Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 303, Garden committee (1861–1947, p. 50) May 1943. ZSL council (1930–1973), p. 311 Nov 1943, Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 284, 285. Fleay, p. 55, CHUR 1/58.B 278. Moyal, p. 177: Ironically, Healesville managed to breed captive platypuses for the first time in 1943. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 223. Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 277. Fleay (1994, p. 56). Churchill papers, CHUR 2/325 55.
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Fig. 3. (a) Telegram from Australia House to Churchill’s personal secretary reporting the findings of their investigation into Winston’s death; (b) Churchill’s telegram to Evatt telling him of the death of the platypus (Churchill, CHUR 1/58.B 273, CHAR 20/124 114).
3. Unraveling the paradox The platypus’s manifold appearance, seeming both mammalian and avian in nature had fuelled speculations ever since specimens reached England in 1799.46 Several elements of these events were similarly paradoxical. Firstly, the demanding husbandry of the animal, forestalling all previous attempts to export them, was to be attempted at a time when resources were stretched extremely thinly. Secondly, Churchill’s request stemmed from personal interest yet had wide public and political ramifications. Lastly, the form of a ‘gift’ was central to these ramifications, simultaneously implying submission and creating an obligation. If Churchill had simply desired an exotic animal, he would surely have done better requesting one likely to survive in Britain, or arrive at all. 3.1. National menageries and politicised science Menageries have long been sources of national pride, and London zoo was keen to retain its reputation as a world leader in husbandry and breeding, fighting to stay open during the war.47 In addition to being emblems of colonial domination, zoos symbolised competition for preeminence between Western rivals.48 A Europe-wide species debut would be a considerable triumph.49
The difficulties experienced by European zoos at this time, such as heavy bomb damage, would make keeping such a rarely-seen animal even more impressive.50 Even during peace, only one of the five platypuses New York Zoo requested in 1928 survived its journey. Churchill asking for six animals might have been with a mind to breeding them, as he had managed with his swans and attempted with the kangaroos. This would have been in-keeping with the greater emphasis placed on conservation practices by some zoos from the early twentieth century, demonstrated by the development of openenclosure parks, such as Whipsnade in 1931.51 The platypus was also far more scientifically significant than most historical animal gifts. Through the nineteenth century, heated debates raged between French and British natural philosophers over the reproductive biology and taxonomy of platypuses, making the ‘monotreme secret’ a matter of national pride. On the British side, Richard Owen (1804–18) argued that platypuses were oviviparous and should be included in the group Mammalia. Owen’s view was vehemently opposed by the French naturalist Geoffroy St. Hilaire (1772–1844).52 The debate was propagated by the limited availability of specimens, due to the practical difficulties of collecting platypuses and resistance to the export of Australian fauna from some colonial scientists.53 It was only through the direct observation of eggs in uteri and nests in the late nineteenth century
46 Moyal (2010, p. 150), Ritvo (1997, pp. 3–4): early interest focused on the ‘resemblance of a beak of a duck engrafted on to the head of a quadruped’, single uro-genital opening, apparent lack of mammaries, and uncertain oviviparity or oviparity; Myers (2008): Platypuses also have electro-receptors on their toothless ‘bills’, low metabolisms, venomous spurs, and 10 avian-like sex chromosomes. 47 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 72). 48 Ritvo (1987, p. 231). 49 Garden Committee, May 1943, p. 50; Blunt (1976, pp. 132–3). 50 Whipsnade Committee (1947–1958, p. 29); ZSL Council (1930–1973, p. 274). 51 Kisling (2001, ch. 2.10). 52 Moyal (2010, pp. 142–144, p. 152), Ritvo (1997, p. 3–4): George Shaw produced the first description of the platypus in Naturalists’ Miscellany (1799), yet even he doubted its genuine nature, checking one specimen for stitches with scissors. 53 Moyal (2010, p. 68, p. 148).
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that agreement was reached over platypuses’ oviparity and nippleless milk-glands. Even in 1886, the Illustrated London Magazine still referred to ‘the egg laying myth’. Though by the mid twentieth century the unusual life history of the platypus had been largely explicated, contentions still existed over the details and wild platypuses had never been observed breeding. The taxonomic place of the monotremes is still debated even today.54 The strange biology of the platypus necessitated the observations of live animals, and significant ecological and behavioural understanding was only achieved in Australia by field naturalists such as Henry Burrell (1873–1945).55 London Zoo prided itself on being a world leader in scientific research, and having a live specimen of this enigmatic animal would stamp British authority on the historical contentions over platypus taxonomy and life history. Though the animal never reached Britain alive and thus did not fulfill these scientific possibilities, the event provided an understanding of platypus husbandry and life history in Britain. For one thing, it was highly unlikely that a request for as many as six platypuses would be made again. London Zoo was an important public attraction throughout the war. For example, when the Aquarium was re-opened in June 1943 after bomb-damage repairs, it attracted 18,816 visitors in only 5 days.56 Crowd-pleasing ‘curiosities’, such as the ‘Chimp’s tea party’ or ‘Winnie’ the tame bear had been a major draw. The platypus would have fitted well into this role because of its ‘three fold nature’, at once mammal-like, bird-like and fish-like. This paradoxical nature fascinated both the public and scientists despite the platypus’s ‘sordid and far from attractive’ appearance. Stuffed platypus specimens and images had featured ‘in non-specialist contexts’ more than ‘any other exotic animal of similarly insignificant size’ throughout the nineteenth century.57 Though the New York Zoo animal was exhibited for only an hour a day during its 7-day life, it attracted long queues of visitors.58 Churchill may have initially wanted a platypus for this inherent ‘curiosity factor’, but this characteristic also would have made the animal valuable for London Zoo, which required ‘a steady diet of amazing novelties’ for the public.59 Zoological curiosity was combined with popular science and colonial messages in zoos. In the nineteenth century, similarly hard to acquire animals, such as clouded tigers and Indian rhinos, were advertised for their exoticism, extreme rarity, scientific value as ‘extraordinary productions of nature’, and as symbols of British colonial power. 60 The popularity of London Zoo made it an important public platform, used to full advantage in events such as a patriotic exhibition of ‘British reptiles’.61 Demonstrations were run on keeping animals for food and a great ‘Rat Exhibition’ highlighted the dangers of unsanitary conditions.62 Another type of practical use of animals was demonstrated in World War I, when London Zoo’s sealions were trained to locate submarines.63 Even the highly impractical nature of
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the platypus was to be utilised, however. Ververs had planned to involve the public in obtaining worms for the platypus, turning the difficulties of keeping the animal into a collective national effort. Achieving the apparently impossible task of sending a live platypus from Australia would be a victory for British national pride, and a defiance against the wartime situation. Other ‘heroic feats’ were attempted through the war by European countries, such as the lauded SS Tibet Exhibition in 1938–9, searching for ‘pure Aryans’ and new geographical and natural historical material.64 There had been another gallant attempt to retrieve live platypuses in 1832 by the naturalist George Bennett (1804–1893), who transported a pair on horseback across Australia. Neither survived to even start the sea voyage, but their bodies helped settle debates in Europe because one was a pregnant female.65 Whether Churchill was aware of these historical scientific debates or the platypus’s importance in zoo-keeping, success would undoubtedly have boosted public morale. There was already a lively public interest in Churchill’s animals and a history of public adoption of favourite animal as mascots, such as the bear ‘Winnie’.66 The potential public effect of success or failure of the mission was implied by the insistence on secrecy until success was assured. 3.2. Looking a gift-platypus in the mouth Most significantly, the platypus ‘Winston’ served subtle political ends, despite the failure of the mission. During 1942, relations between Australia and Britain became very strained. Australia faced increasing difficulty in resisting the Japanese in South East Asia and resented its exclusion from the War Council. While the War Council thought Japanese invasion unlikely, the Australian prime minister became ‘excessively alarmed’ about the threat.67 There were also feelings in Australia that Britain was more engaged in the war on its own doorstep than repaying Australia’s past military help. Arguably, Churchill was always more concerned with his relationship with the US and the war in the Atlantic than in the Pacific. These factors caused dwindling political attachment to Britain in Australia.68 Curtin had been a consistent critic of Churchill, and in 1942 wrote in the Melbourne Herald that, ‘Without any inhibitions of any kind, I make it quite clear that Australia looks to America, free of any pangs as to our traditional links with the United Kingdom’.69 He insisted on withdrawing Australian troops from Europe, despite continued dependence on British forces and arms.70 This was a matter of great concern to Churchill. He was very loyal to the idea of the British Empire, which was disbanded in the early twentieth century into a loose ‘Commonwealth of equals’. While Churchill did not want the heavy imperial hand of the nineteenth century, he wished for a ‘civic polity’ of ‘united, federated’ countries in the ‘shining constellation of the British Empire’.71
Moyal (2010, p. 154, p. 159). Moyal (2010, p. 155): he was also the first man to keep captive platypuses, and coined the term ‘platypusary’.Blunt (1976, p. 131): He had 5 animals before WWI in Sydney Zoo, whom it took 5 hours a day to find sufficient worms for. 56 ZSL Council, (1861–1947, p. 280). 57 Ritvo (1997, pp. 3–4). 58 Blunt (1976, pp. 132–3). 59 Ritvo (1997, p. 6). 60 Ritvo (1987, pp. 216–217). 61 ZSL Council (1861–1947, p. 267). 62 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 82, p. 121) 63 Barrington-Johnson (2005, p. 81). 64 Hale (2007), Prologue. 65 Moyal (2010, pp. 74–82). 66 Ritvo (1987, pp. 228–9). 67 Gardner (1968, p. 186). 68 Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 22–4, Best (2001, pp. 228–229). 69 Gardner (1968, p. 142). 70 Best (2001, pp. 228–229). 71 Emmert (1989, p. 98), Best (2001, pp. 106–107). 55
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The absence of a relationship of any sort with Australia would be worse still.72 Though after the 1942 parting Churchill had remarked that the Australians were of ‘bad stock’, he seems to have made efforts to regain the ties.73 Acquiring a platypus, an animal so symbolic and highly protected in Australia, could be a token way of symbolically re-staking British claim over Australia, after Curtin had publicly ended Australian reliance on Britain. ‘Winston’ was to become accustomed to ‘our climate’ and ‘British worms’, becoming a British platypus.74 This was not simply Victorian colonial animal collecting, however. The interaction was effectively diplomatic gift-giving, but with a unique twist in that the gift was solicited. Mauss depicted gifts as given within networks of relationships, in which giving placed a debt on the receiver.75 While these ideas have been contradicted by arguments for ‘true gifts’ free from obligation, they are applicable in many contexts.76 For example, Ferdinando de’ Medici actually gave six and a half times the thousands of gifts he received.77 Churchill’s request to Australia, asking them to suspend tight regulations, and devote significant effort and resources to delivering his pet, could be seen as exercising British authority, but alternatively could be interpreted as creating a debt in Australia’s favour. In 1943 Churchill finally heeded Australia’s numerous requests for military assistance by sending warships and more of ‘the latest type of tropicalised Spitfire’.78 Fleay himself wrote ‘might not the little animals be urgers for more planes and guns? Even Ornithorhynchus was entering the war effort.’79 Ironically, in some ways the platypus also held its captors in thrall through the copious demands of keeping it alive. Historically, gifts have been displayed to achieve their value in complex diplomatic relationships.80 The display of the platypus in London Zoo would have ‘activated and publicised’ the meaning of the gift, just as Churchill was advised to achieve the ‘public object’ with a demonstration of military assistance to Australia.81 Australia could conspicuously oblige Churchill’s whims, and he could fulfill the role of colonial benefactor. Laidlaw characterises gifts as an ‘exchange of inalienable objects between’ reciprocally dependent parties ‘that establishes a qualitative relationship’ between them, contrasting with exchanges of ‘alienable’ commodities between ‘independent parties’.82 Churchill’s telegram to Evatt asking him if he was sanguine about the disposal of Winston’s body suggests that ‘Winston’ had a degree of inalienability. Churchill also cultivated his personal relationship with Evatt with invitations and hospitality. Evatt responded far more positively than Curtin, who consistently demurred on invitations, precluding the personal type of relationship maintained between Churchill and Roosevelt.83 In response to Australian requests for ‘more intimate collaboration in military matters’, Churchill pushed for Evatt to be appointed the permanent Australian representative to the War Council in 1943.84 This was despite resistance from the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who argued that it would ‘be 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89
difficult to give Australia this privilege’ and not other ex-colonies as well.85 3.3. Networks and boundaries of knowledge These measures improved Australian-British relations considerably by 1944. Yet there was another unusual aspect of the interaction, in that the gift required a heavy reliance on ‘colonial’ knowledge. Whilst platypus taxonomy and physiology had been a matter determined in Europe in the nineteenth century, most behavioural and ecological knowledge came from and remained in Australia. This contradicted traditional images of the imperial country as the epicenter of scientific endeavour, disseminating knowledge, with colonial scientists as mere ‘fact gatherers’.86 In this case, unique knowledge was generated through field-work and experience in Australia and passed to Britain. This much more closely fits more recent models of colonial science, such as Chambers and Gillespie’s ‘polycentric communications network model’.87 The platypus’s demanding nature necessitated close interaction between zoological and political circles in mediating the transferral of this knowledge. There was a network of communication between Fleay, governmental officials in Australia, Port Line Shipping Company, Australia House, London Zoo and Downing Street. The platypus served the different aims of each of these parties, so acted as a boundary object between political and zoological groups. Bowker and Star characterise boundary objects as ‘plastic enough to adapt to the local needs . . . of the several parties employing them, yet robust enough to maintain a common identity’.88 They are ‘simultaneously concrete and abstract’, just as a platypus individual and platypus species is. Though Star and Griesemer describe primarily abstract models in different scientific communities, the platypus was ‘plastic’, yet retained its identity.89 Each ‘social world’ had different requirements of the platypus: scientific specimen, exotic curio, public attraction, national emblem or political token. The different forms the ‘platypus’ could take served these various meanings, whether a set of logistical operations, a captive or wild animal, a preserved specimen or emblematic representation. For example, zoologists required live or preserved specimens, live zoo animals attracted the public, and international interactions occurred through cooperation over logistical planning and emblematic gifts like ‘Splash’. Consequently, the failed operation still affected international relations, yet never realised the zoological and public potential. This failure was obliterated from the public eye with militant secrecy. 4. Conclusion Churchill’s request probably stemmed from curiosity, his penchant for interesting pets, and perhaps the need for a little light
Emmert (1989, pp. 92–94). Best (2001, pp. 106–107). Churchill papers, CHUR 1/58.B 313. Mauss (1967), Introductory. Laidlaw (2000, p. 617). Butters (2007, p. 250). Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 1-3; Churchill, CHAR 20/93 31, CHUR 2/325. Fleay (1994, p. 53). Cutler (2008), describing early Islamic diplomacy p. 92. Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 13–15. Laidlaw (2000, p. 620). Dom. & Comm. Office (1915–1971), DO 35/1461 12; CHUR 2/35 58, 56. Prime Minister’s Office, PREM 4/50/8 436; DO 35/1466 5; CHAR 20/110 11. Prime Minister’s Office, PREM 4/50/8 435. Harrison (2005, p. 56). Harrison (2005, p. 63), Chambers & Gillespie (2000, p. 223). Bowker & Star (2007, pp. 296–297). Star & Greisemer (1989, pp. 408–409).
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relief. The paradoxical nature of the mammal-like, fish-like and bird-like platypus and the logistical nature of his request meant that the operation had much greater implications. The animal’s scientific and taxonomical recalcitrance as well as very strange appearance, made it significant to zoological communities and intriguing for the public. Its difficult habitat and dietary requirements meant that no specimen had been seen alive in Europe, lending it great significance for London Zoo. The zoological triumph of obtaining the first live platypus, coupled with succeeding in an extravagant enterprise in the middle of the war would have boosted public morale and London Zoo’s prestige. Most important of all was way in which the platypus, a request as well as a gift, served as a token for mediating Australian-British relationships. It represented both the acquirement of traditional colonial dominance as well as effecting exchanges which helped bind Australia to Britain again, through the collaboration over a shared project and a debt willingly incurred by Churchill. Therefore, the platypus, both symbol and species embodied in ‘Winston’, acted as a boundary object between political, zoological and public worlds, requiring collaboration between them and serving the different needs of each. The extent to which these multifarious meanings were intentional on Churchill’s part is difficult to gauge, especially because ‘Winston’s’ death prevented most of this potential being realised. Nevertheless, these factors suggest far more than simply English eccentricity. Acknowledgements I would like to thank Nick Jardine for his considerable help in finding a direction for this project and suggesting many useful avenues of thought, as well as much help in proof reading. Many thanks to the staff of the Churchill Archives, London Zoological Society Archives, Royal College of Surgeons Archives and the staff at the Port Line association for facilitating my research and helping to locate source material. Thanks also to Geoff Williams at the Australian Platypus Conservancy, David Wylie from the Curtin Prime Ministerial Library, Tim Brant of the Merchant Navy Association, Cyril Simmons and Ian Farquar of Vintage Port, and Anne Moyal for their help in my initial research. References Baratay, E., & Hardouin-Fugier, E. (2003). Zoo: A history of zoological gardens in the west. Reaktion books. Barrington-Johnson, J. (2005). Zoo: The story of London zoo. Robert Hale Ltd. Best, G. (2001). Churchill: A study in greatness. Oxford University Press. Bowker, G. C., & Star, S. L. (2007). Sorting things out: Classification and its consequences. MIT Press, Inside Technology Series. Blunt, W. (1976). The ark in the park: the Zoo in the nineteenth century. Hamish Hamilton. Buczacki, S. (2007). Churchill & Chartwell: The untold story of Churchill’s houses and gardens. Frances Lincoln Limited. Butters, S. B. (2007). The uses and abuses of gifts in the world of Fernando de’Medici (1549–1609). I Tatti Studies: Essays in the Renaissance, 11:243–354. Olschiki, L.S. (ed.) s.r.l and Villa I Tatti, The Harvard Centre for Italian Renaissance Studies.
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Chambers, D. W. and Gillespie, R. (2000). Locality in the history of science: Colonial science, technoscience, and indigenous knowledge. Osiris, 2nd Series: Nature and Empire: Science and the Colonial Enterprise, 15, 221–240. Churchill, Sir Winston Leonard Spencer, (1874–1965), The Papers of Sir Winston Churchill: The Churchill Papers, GB/014/CHAR [files consulted: Public and Political: General, (1898–1945), CHAR 2/465; Official: Prime Minister, (1940– 1945), CHAR 20/93.B, 20/94.A, 20/110, 20/124]. Cambridge: Churchill Archives. Churchill, Sir Winston Leonard Spencer, (1874–1965), The Papers of Sir Winston Churchill: The Churchill Papers, GB/014/CHUR [files consulted: Personal, (1945– 1965), CHUR 1/58 A-B; Public and Political: General, (1945–1965), CHUR 2/325]. Cambridge: Churchill Archives. Cutler, A. (2008). Significant gifts: Patterns of exchange in late antique, byzantine, and early Islamic diplomacy. Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, 38, 1. Dominions Office and Commonwealth Relations Office, (1915–1971), Dominions Office and Commonwealth Relations Office: Original Correspondence [files consulted: DO 35/1132, DO 35/1461, DO 35/1466]. Kew: The National archives. Eaton, N. (2004). Between Mimesis and Alterity: Art, gift, and diplomacy in colonial India, 1770–1800. Comparative Studies in Society and History, 46(4), 816–844. Emmert, K. (1989). Winston S. Churchill on Empire. Carolina Academic Press. Ferris-Rotman, A. (2010). All Russia Invited to Help Name Putin’s New Puppy’. Reuters UK.