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17 CHAPTER 17: REASSESSMENT: COLONIAL MISSION OR CULTURAL BRIDGE?

**Learning Objectives**

By the end of this chapter, you should be able to:
– Critically evaluate the missionary enterprise in light of postcolonial scholarship
– Analyse the debate over whether missionaries were agents of cultural imperialism or cultural bridge-builders
– Understand the role of indigenous agency in shaping missionary outcomes
– Assess different metrics for evaluating the “success” of missionary work
– Draw lessons from Bailey’s life for contemporary intercultural engagement

### 17.1 The Missionary as Colonial Agent Debate

The assessment of Christian missionaries in colonial contexts has been one of the most contested areas of historical scholarship in recent decades. For much of the 20th century, missionary history was written primarily by missionaries themselves or by scholars sympathetic to the missionary enterprise. These accounts tended to celebrate the dedication and achievements of missionaries while paying less attention to the cultural costs of their activities or to the voices of those they sought to convert.

The rise of postcolonial scholarship in the latter half of the 20th century brought a radical change in perspective. Scholars influenced by postcolonial theory, by anticolonial movements, and by a growing sensitivity to cultural imperialism began to reassess the missionary record through a more critical lens. In this revisionist view, missionaries were not selfless servants of the gospel but agents of Western cultural domination, whose religious message served to undermine indigenous cultures and legitimate colonial rule.

The critique is powerful and cannot be dismissed. Missionaries arrived in India as representatives of a colonial power, even if they sometimes distanced themselves from colonial authorities. They brought with them cultural assumptions—about religion, about society, about knowledge—that they often treated as universal rather than culturally specific. They sought to change Indian society in fundamental ways, disrupting existing patterns of belief, practice, and community. And they did all of this from a position of relative power, backed by the prestige and sometimes the military force of the British Empire.

Yet the postcolonial critique, for all its force, can sometimes be as one-sided as the missionary hagiographies it challenges. It tends to portray missionaries as a monolithic group, ignoring the diversity of missionary attitudes and approaches. It often treats Indian communities as passive victims, overlooking the agency of Indians who engaged with missionaries selectively, accepting what they found useful while resisting or adapting what they did not. And it can underestimate the genuine appeal that certain missionary offerings—education, healthcare, a message of human dignity and equality—held for people who were marginalised or oppressed within traditional Indian society.

The assessment of Benjamin Bailey must grapple with these complexities. He was undeniably a figure of his time, shaped by evangelical certainties and British cultural assumptions that we may now find problematic. He participated in a missionary enterprise that was entangled with colonial power. He sought to change the religious beliefs and practices of Indian people. Yet he also made genuine contributions to Malayalam language and literature, to education, and to the material welfare of those among whom he worked. A fair assessment must hold both dimensions together, acknowledging the problematic aspects of his enterprise while recognising its benefits.

### 17.2 Bailey’s Approach: Respect for Culture vs. Transformation

Where does Benjamin Bailey fall on the spectrum from cultural imperialist to cultural bridge-builder? The evidence suggests a complex position that defies simple categorisation.

On one hand, Bailey shared the evangelical conviction that Christianity was the one true faith and that other religious traditions were, at best, incomplete and, at worst, false. He believed that conversion to Christianity was necessary for salvation. He worked to reform the Syrian Christian community in ways that reflected British evangelical norms rather than Syrian traditions. He produced tracts that criticised Hindu beliefs and practices. These aspects of his work align with the postcolonial critique of missionaries as agents of cultural transformation who devalued indigenous traditions.

On the other hand, Bailey’s approach to Indian culture was not entirely negative. His commitment to vernacular language—Malayalam rather than English—implied a respect for the linguistic heritage of the people he served. His educational work, while aimed ultimately at Christianisation, provided genuine benefits that were valued by Indians regardless of their religious commitments. His willingness to learn from Indian informants and to collaborate with Indian scholars implied a recognition of Indian expertise that was not always characteristic of colonial relationships. And his long residence in Kerala, his relationships with Indian colleagues, and his evident affection for the people among whom he worked suggest a more complex attitude than simple cultural superiority.

Bailey’s translation work is particularly revealing. Translation, by its nature, involves a kind of cultural humility. The translator must submit to the source text, seeking to understand it on its own terms rather than imposing meaning upon it. At the same time, the translator must respect the target language, finding within its resources the capacity to express new ideas. Bailey spent decades engaged in this dual submission—to the biblical text and to the Malayalam language. The result was a translation that, whatever its imperfections, represented a genuine meeting of cultures, a text in which Hebrew and Greek thought found expression in Indian language.

Perhaps the fairest assessment is that Bailey was a man of genuine goodwill who was limited by the assumptions of his time. He sought to do good as he understood it, and much of what he accomplished was indeed beneficial. But his understanding of the good was shaped by a cultural and theological framework that we can now recognise as particular rather than universal. He was, in this sense, both a colonial agent—an actor within a system of European domination—and a cultural bridge—a person whose work created connections between British and Indian worlds that outlasted the colonial era.

### 17.3 Indigenous Agency in the Mission Enterprise

One of the most important correctives that recent scholarship has brought to the study of missions is an emphasis on indigenous agency. The story of the Travancore mission is not simply a story of what Bailey and his European colleagues did to or for Indians. It is a story of what Indians did with the opportunities, resources, and ideas that the missionaries brought.

The Syrian Christians who engaged with the CMS mission were not passive recipients of missionary teaching. They were active agents who assessed what the missionaries offered—education, printing, political protection—and made strategic decisions about what to accept and what to resist. The Synod of Mavelikara, which rejected missionary authority while continuing to benefit from missionary education, was a powerful assertion of Syrian Christian agency. The missionaries had resources and influence, but they could not dictate outcomes.

The Indian assistants who worked with Bailey—the language informants, translators, teachers, and catechists—were also agents, not mere instruments. They brought their own knowledge, their own commitments, and their own goals to the collaboration. The Malayalam Bible, though it bears Bailey’s name, was in significant measure their work as well. They shaped the translation through their suggestions and corrections; they shaped the reception of the translation through their teaching and preaching; they shaped the mission as a whole through their daily decisions and interactions.

The converts who embraced Christianity, whether from Syrian or non-Syrian backgrounds, exercised perhaps the most fundamental agency of all. They made a choice—often a costly choice—to change their religious identity. The reasons for this choice were varied and complex, involving spiritual conviction, social aspiration, economic calculation, and personal relationships. But it was their choice, not something that was done to them by missionaries. Understanding conversion as an act of agency rather than passive reception is essential to a balanced assessment of the missionary enterprise.

Indigenous agency does not negate the power imbalances that structured the missionary encounter. Bailey and his colleagues held positions of authority and influence that their Indian interlocutors did not share. The choices that Indians made were constrained by the colonial context in which they lived. But agency, even constrained agency, matters. It reminds us that the history of missions is not simply a story of Western action and Indian reaction, but a story of interaction, negotiation, and mutual influence.

### 17.4 Assessing “Success”: Metrics and Meanings

How should we assess the “success” of Benjamin Bailey’s missionary career? The question is deceptively simple, for everything depends on what metrics we employ and whose perspective we privilege.

By the CMS’s own metrics, Bailey was an outstandingly successful missionary. He translated and printed the Malayalam Bible, fulfilling one of the Society’s core objectives. He established a network of schools that served thousands of students. He founded a printing press that became a self-sustaining institution. He contributed to the growth of an indigenous church that would continue long after the missionaries were gone. The CMS recognised his achievements during his lifetime, and his obituaries celebrated a life of exemplary service.

By the metrics of the Syrian Christian community, the assessment is more mixed. Bailey provided valuable resources—education, printed scriptures, political support—that benefited the community. But he also contributed to divisions within the community, as some Syrians aligned with the CMS while others resisted missionary influence. The legacy of these divisions persists in Kerala Christianity to this day. Was the schism a necessary cost of reform, or an unfortunate consequence of missionary heavy-handedness? The answer depends on one’s theological and communal standpoint.

By the metrics of Kerala’s broader development, Bailey’s work must be accounted a significant positive contribution. The printing industry he pioneered became a major economic sector. The educational institutions he helped to found contributed to Kerala’s remarkable achievements in literacy and learning. The Malayalam language was enriched by his translations and his dictionary. These contributions, while inseparable from the missionary context in which they were made, have been absorbed into Kerala’s common heritage, valued by people of all religious backgrounds.

By the metrics of contemporary ethical judgment, the assessment is inevitably complex. We can recognise Bailey’s genuine dedication and his lasting achievements while also acknowledging the problematic aspects of the missionary enterprise—its entanglement with colonialism, its assumptions of cultural superiority, its disruption of existing communities and traditions. A mature historical assessment does not require us to choose between celebration and condemnation. It allows us to see Bailey whole: a man of his time, capable of both genuine good and genuine limitation.

### 17.5 Comparing Missionary Models Across India

Bailey’s approach to mission was one among several models that operated in 19th century India, and comparison with other approaches illuminates the distinctive features of his work.

The Serampore model, developed by William Carey and his Baptist colleagues in Bengal, shared with Bailey a commitment to vernacular translation and printing. But the Serampore Baptists were more aggressive in their evangelism and more willing to challenge Hindu orthodoxy directly. They operated with less dependence on colonial authority and with greater openness to radical social experimentation. Bailey, working within the CMS framework and the political context of Travancore, was more cautious in his approach, focusing on institutional development rather than direct confrontation.

The Oxford Mission model, which developed later in the 19th century, represented a more Anglo-Catholic approach to mission, emphasising liturgy, sacraments, and the beauty of worship alongside education and social service. This model had a greater appreciation for Indian religious traditions and a less confrontational approach to conversion. Bailey, as an evangelical Anglican, shared some common ground with this approach—his translation of the Book of Common Prayer, for example—but differed in his emphasis on personal conversion and biblical authority.

The “mission of the intellect” model, associated particularly with Scottish missionaries like Alexander Duff in Calcutta, emphasised English education as the primary means of Christian influence. Duff believed that Western education would inevitably undermine Hinduism and prepare the way for Christianity. Bailey’s approach was different: while he valued English education for advanced students, his primary commitment was to vernacular education that reached a wider population and that respected the linguistic heritage of Malayalam speakers.

These comparisons highlight the diversity of missionary approaches in 19th century India. There was no single “missionary model” but a range of strategies shaped by theological conviction, local context, and individual temperament. Bailey’s approach—vernacular-focused, institution-building, patient rather than confrontational—was well-suited to the Travancore context and helps to explain both his achievements and his limitations.

### 17.6 Lessons for Contemporary Intercultural Engagement

What can the life and work of Benjamin Bailey teach us about intercultural engagement in the 21st century? The question is worth asking, for while the specific circumstances of early 19th century Travancore cannot be replicated, the underlying dynamics of cross-cultural encounter remain relevant.

First, Bailey’s life demonstrates the importance of practical contribution. His printing press was valued by the local community not because of the theology it promoted but because of the tangible benefits it provided: books, employment, literacy. Intercultural relationships are strengthened when they are built around genuine service that meets real needs. The credibility that Bailey earned through his practical work created openings for relationship and influence that preaching alone could not have achieved.

Second, Bailey’s translation work models a form of engagement that takes the other seriously. Translation requires deep attention to the other’s language, thought patterns, and modes of expression. It requires the translator to submit to the discipline of understanding before attempting to communicate. In a world of rapid, superficial cross-cultural contact, Bailey’s decades of patient linguistic labour stand as a reminder that genuine understanding takes time and humility.

Third, the collaborative nature of Bailey’s work challenges any simple narrative of unilateral influence. The Malayalam Bible, the dictionary, the schools—these were not products of European expertise imposed on passive Indians. They were joint creations, emerging from relationships of mutual learning and shared effort. Contemporary intercultural engagement should similarly prioritise partnership and collaboration over unilateral action.

Fourth, the tensions and divisions that accompanied Bailey’s work—particularly the schism with the Syrian Christian hierarchy—serve as a cautionary tale. Intercultural engagement, however well-intentioned, can have unintended consequences. The missionaries’ reforming agenda, which seemed so obviously right to them, looked like cultural aggression to many Syrians. Humility about one’s own cultural assumptions and sensitivity to the costs of change are essential in cross-cultural relationships.

Finally, Bailey’s life invites reflection on the relationship between conviction and respect. Bailey held his Christian faith with deep conviction, and this conviction drove his life’s work. Yet he also developed relationships of genuine respect with Indians who did not share that faith, and his work benefited people across religious boundaries. The challenge of holding conviction and respect together—of maintaining one’s own commitments while honouring the dignity and agency of those who differ—remains as relevant today as it was in 19th century Travancore.

### A Final Assessment

Benjamin Bailey was a printer from Yorkshire who spent thirty-four years in Kerala and, in doing so, changed the course of Malayalam literary history. He was an evangelical Christian who believed he was bringing saving truth to those who needed it. He was a man of his time, limited by assumptions he could not recognise, whose work had consequences—both positive and negative—that he could not have foreseen.

The printing press he established at Kottayam in 1821 set in motion a process that transformed the linguistic, educational, and cultural landscape of Kerala. The schools he founded educated generations of students and contributed to a culture of literacy that became a defining feature of modern Kerala. The Bible he translated gave Malayalam-speaking Christians access to their sacred text in their mother tongue. The dictionary he compiled opened the Malayalam language to scholarly study. These achievements deserve recognition and honour.

Yet the missionary enterprise in which Bailey participated was also entangled with colonial power, disruptive of existing communities, and dismissive of religious traditions that had sustained people for millennia. These aspects of his legacy must also be acknowledged, not to condemn but to understand the complexity of the historical reality.

Perhaps the most fitting assessment is that Benjamin Bailey was a human being—gifted, dedicated, limited, and complex—whose life intersected with a pivotal moment in Kerala’s history in ways that left lasting marks on the region and its people. To study his life is to encounter a story that is at once inspiring and cautionary, a reminder that the best of human achievements are mixed with limitation, and that the work of even the most dedicated individuals is shaped by forces they do not fully control.

The young printer who sailed from England in 1816 could not have imagined that, two centuries later, scholars would still be studying his life, or that his printing press would be remembered as the foundation of an industry, or that his Bible translation would still be read by worshippers in Kerala churches. He simply did the work that was before him, day by day, year by year, trusting that his labour would not be in vain. It was not.

**Key Takeaways**

– The debate over missionaries as colonial agents versus cultural bridge-builders is complex, and a fair assessment of Bailey must acknowledge both dimensions of his work.
– Bailey’s approach combined a commitment to Christian transformation with a practical respect for vernacular language and culture.
– Indigenous agency was central to the mission enterprise; Indian Christians and Syrian Christian leaders made active choices about how to engage with missionary offerings.
– Assessing Bailey’s “success” depends on the metrics employed: by CMS standards he was outstandingly successful; by other measures the assessment is more mixed.
– Comparison with other missionary models in India highlights the distinctiveness of Bailey’s vernacular-focused, institution-building approach.
– Bailey’s life offers lessons for contemporary intercultural engagement, including the importance of practical service, patient understanding, genuine collaboration, and cultural humility.

**Discussion Questions**

1. Was Benjamin Bailey primarily a colonial agent, a cultural bridge-builder, or something more complex than either label allows? Support your argument with specific evidence.
2. How should we weigh the genuine benefits of Bailey’s work (printing, education, literacy) against the cultural costs (divisions within the Syrian Church, disruption of traditional practices)?
3. What role did indigenous agency play in shaping the outcomes of the Travancore mission? How does attention to Indian actors change our understanding of this history?
4. What lessons from Bailey’s life and work are most relevant to contemporary efforts at cross-cultural engagement and international development?
5. Is it possible to make moral judgments about historical figures whose context and assumptions differed significantly from our own? If so, on what basis?

**Primary Source: Reflecting on a Life of Service**

*”When I look back upon the years I have spent in this land, I am filled with gratitude for the mercies that have followed me, and with humility at the imperfections that have marked my service. I have sought to do the will of God and to promote the welfare of this people. Where I have succeeded, the glory is His; where I have failed, the fault is my own. I leave the work that has been the labour of my life in His hands, trusting that He will continue what He has begun and bring it to completion in His own time and way.”*

*(Bailey’s final report to the CMS, written shortly before his departure from Travancore in 1850. CMS Archives, C I1/M15. Spelling and punctuation modernised.)*

**Further Reading**

Cox, Jeffrey. (2008). *The British Missionary Enterprise Since 1700*. Routledge. (Provides a balanced assessment of missionary activity in historical perspective.)

Sugirtharajah, R. S. (2002). *Postcolonial Criticism and Biblical Interpretation*. Oxford University Press. (Essential for understanding postcolonial perspectives on missionary activity.)

Stanley, Brian. (2001). *Christian Missions and the Enlightenment*. Eerdmans. (Examines the intellectual context of missionary activity and its relationship to colonialism and modernity.)

## EPILOGUE: THE PRINTER’S LAST PAGE

The story of Benjamin Bailey does not end with his death in 1871, nor with the assessments of scholars a century and a half later. It continues in every Malayalam book that rolls off a printing press in Kottayam, in every student who enters the gates of CMS College, in every worshipper who hears the words of scripture in the language of their heart. The legacy of a life dedicated to service is never fully captured in words; it lives on in the institutions, the communities, and the cultures that such a life helps to shape.

Bailey would perhaps have been uncomfortable with the attention this volume gives him. He was, by all accounts, a modest man who preferred to let his work speak for itself. He understood that the printing press he established was more important than the printer, that the Bible he translated was more important than the translator, that the schools he founded were more important than the founder. He was, in the best sense, a servant—of his God, of his mission, and of the people among whom he lived and worked.

We who study his life, two centuries after his birth, can honour that servant spirit by seeking to understand him fairly—neither as a saint beyond criticism nor as a villain to be condemned, but as a human being who, with all his gifts and limitations, sought to do good in his time and place. The record of his life, like the pages he printed, invites our careful attention, our critical engagement, and, perhaps, our gratitude.