Let us dispense with the pretence that this is about justice. The demand by African and Caribbean leaders for a formal apology over slavery is a masterclass in moral extortion, a political theatre designed to extract maximum guilt from a West that has long since abandoned any sense of historical perspective. The Commonwealth, that venerable institution born of empire and now reduced to a talking shop for grievance, is preparing its formal response. But what exactly is to be apologised for? The slave trade ended two centuries ago. Britain itself abolished it in 1807, spending a third of its national budget to buy the freedom of slaves in the Caribbean. That is a historical fact you will not hear from the podium of the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting.
Yet here we are. The descendants of those who profited from the trade are expected to kneel before the descendants of those who were enslaved and murmur mea culpa. And why? Because the modern left has redefined history as a continuous crime scene where the dead can be put on trial and the living can be made to pay. This is not reconciliation. This is the construction of a permanent moral debt, one that can never be repaid, ensuring that the West remains forever on its knees.
The language of these demands is instructive. It is not a request for dialogue. It is a demand. And the Commonwealth, which once stood for the ties that bind, is now being used as a lever to prise open old wounds. But let us be honest: the leaders making these demands are not speaking for the enslaved. They are speaking for themselves. They want the apology because it is a currency in the global economy of victimhood. An apology from Britain, from the Crown, is a political asset. It can be cashed in for aid, for trade concessions, for a seat at the table. It has nothing to do with healing and everything to do with power.
If we are to engage in this farce, let us at least be consistent. Should we apologise for the Roman conquest of Britain? For the Viking raids? For the Norman invasion? Every civilisation has its sins. But the modern obsession with apology is a sign of intellectual decadence. It is the mark of a society that has lost faith in its own story and seeks absolution from its critics. The Victorians, for all their faults, would have laughed at the idea of grovelling to foreign leaders for the sins of their great-grandfathers. They understood that history is a tapestry of light and shadow, not a courtroom.
The Commonwealth should resist this demand. Not because slavery was not a crime – it was, and a monstrous one – but because this demand is not about justice. It is about leverage. It is about creating a permanent class of victims and a permanent class of perpetrators. That is not the path to a shared future. It is the path to permanent division. The only proper response to such a demand is a polite but firm refusal. If the leaders of Africa and the Caribbean want to move forward, they should stop looking backwards. The past is a foreign country. Let us leave it there.
