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Karl Kautsky

Socialism and
Colonial Policy

IX. Relapse into Barbarism

A more weighty objection to giving up the colonies than the one just dealt with is this: the fear that they would then lapse into barbarism. This objection can not be dismissed without consideration. It requires a more thorough investigation, with which we wish to conclude our explanation.

The disadvantages expected from giving up the colonies can be examined from two points of view: that of the mother country and that of the colony. From the first a point of view it could be feared that giving up the colonies would lead to a decline in their productive investments. In this way the mother country would lose an advantageous market for its industrial products and an indispensable supplier of raw materials.

Let us assume for the moment that the apprehended regression in production really occurred. Would the consequences really be so devastating? The significance of the colonies in the world market should not be exaggerated.

According to the Statistical Year Book for the German Empire, shares of trade were as follows:

If these colonies were given up, and as a result imports and exports were discontinued, less than 6% of world trade would be affected; and if German Africa were given up, not a thousandth part of this trade.

And their share of world trade is not increasing. Whilst Japan’s share rose between 1890 and 1904 from 0.6% to 1.4%; China’s from 1.5% to 1.7%; the United States’ from 9.1% to 9.8%; Argentina’s from 1.3% to 1.7%; Mexico’s from 0.5% to 0.7%; Canada’s from 1.2% to 1.9%, that of the tropical colonies, the exploitation colonies, which alone are in question here, remained static. The increase in several of the French colonies can be ascribed to an expansion of their territory.

But it would be quite monstrous to assume that the colonies will cease producing the moment they were freed and came under their own administration. For, even without the compelling power of the state, the compulsion exerted by economic forces is too great to be reversed and it will continue to be active, if perhaps in a different form. A few primitive colonies, such as Senegambia, may fail if freed. On the other hand a cultured country like India is far too advanced in commodity production to be able to dissolve its connection with world trade if freed. However, the lion’s share of world colonial falls to India; without that realm it would be a diminishing quantity.

Now it is possible to estimate the significance of the colonies otherwise than by their share in world trade. It is possible to consider their value to the imperialist idea, to the idea of creating an Empire, economically self-sufficient, sufficiently extensive to be able to produce all its own raw materials and to sell all its industrial products on its own markets, so that it is absolutely independent.

This aim has arisen simultaneously with the rise of cartels, new protective tariffs, the combination of militarism and marinism, and the new colonial era since the 80s. This aim is closely connected with all of these developments, and is the offspring of the same economic situation which has increasingly transformed capitalism from a means of developing the greatest productivity of labour into a means of limiting this development. The higher the tariff barriers between the individual capitalist states grow, the more each of them feels the need to assure itself of a market which no one can exclude them from, and to gain supplies of raw material which no one can cut off

But to say that this aim has deep roots in the economic situation is by no means to say that its success is assured. The productive forces continue to develop and grow in power under capitalism despite all restriction, and they smash not merely the tariff system, but also this aim of imperial economic independence. In spite of all the customs duties, world trade grows and its value increases even more rapidly than the total of duties. And the international division of labour takes on such dimensions that the most highly developed industries can less and less be limited to the markets of a single state, however extensive it is and however manifold its colonial possessions may be. The growth in the division of labour is so enormous that none of the advanced industries can manage with the raw materials of its own territory, however monstrous the empire it may try to create

Let us look at England, for example. No country disposes over colonial possessions even remotely comparable to hers. The population of India alone puts in the shade the total population of the colonial possessions of all the other powers put together, including any that they could still acquire. And in spite of this, England has long since been unable to supply her demand for cotton from her colonies, to take one instance. In 1905 she imported 2,204 million pounds of cotton. 58 million pounds of this came from British possessions and 2,146 million pounds from other countries, of which the United States alone provided 1,729 millions. The latter also furnish the most copper, 52% of world production; next comes Mexico with 11%; the tropical colonies produce almost none. The latter also contribute only a little wool. The main producers of wool are Argentina and Australia.

How could it then be made possible for a colonial empire to cover the entire demand for raw materials of a great capitalist state? It is simply quite unthinkable. But since the aspiration is so deeply embedded in the capitalist situation, the capitalist class obstinately resist this conclusion. The drive for colonial expansion by the great states is therefore not restrained, but remains unbounded; it can never reach a satisfactory limit. For this reason the mutual arms race must grow ever greater and the danger of a world war come ever nearer.

These are the only practical results which can be produced by imperialism. Against this it is able to secure neither a market, nor suppliers for its industry. Rather does it threaten that free trade with customers and suppliers on the world market which alone can now satisfy modern industry.

The capitalist class has its own good reasons for fostering imperialism. But the proletariat has equally good reasons for opposing it as a means of prolonging the exploitation of the proletariat at its own cost.

This noble object is no reason why social democracy should refuse emancipation to the colonies. But will the colonies not themselves suffer from being freed? This is feared for three reasons. The colonies could suffer because emancipation could bring about the collapse of the present colonial state structure and thereupon a worse kind of exploitation than capitalist exploitation could arise; and finally, the capitalist undertakings in the colonies would decay or even be directly destroyed.

The first fear need not detain us long. It is certainly correct to say that whilst every people is mature enough to govern itself, it does not follow that it is mature enough for every form of self-government. The democratic administration of a great state requires a series of preconditions – high level of popular culture, a strong press, lively trade in the whole of the area of the state – which exist only in a very few colonies. If they are given up by the Europeans they are threatened with disintegration into innumerable small communities, independent of each others But this misfortune may not be all that bad. A small democratic community can, and usually will, be better administered than an undemocratic gigantic state, and may accomplish far more, relatively. No one would wish to set Russia above Switzerland.

The second objection is, on the other hand, more serious: that giving up a colony would take it from the frying pan into the fire, would deliver it from one kind of exploitation or subjugation merely to submit it to a more evil regimes.

This danger doubtless exists Of course not in all cases. Class differences must reach a very advanced level before a state power can arise which is powerful enough to exert serious oppression. And even this oppression is at the beginning a relatively minor one for the mass of the people. One must not let oneself be fooled by the arbitrary rule and cruelty which some of these primitive despots exercise in their immediate environment. The masses usually have little experience of it, Livingstone, for instance, writes of the Central African natives:

Accurate observation of the natives of the Ulungu tribe leads me to believe that they are exceedingly polite. How this extraordinary mutual respect may have arisen, I am unable to understand; it does not seem to be stimulated by fear of each others. There was not even fear of the headmen and those hoary old platitudes that savages can only be ruled by fear seem to be unknown here; and yet they are in any event governed, and on the whole, not badly. (Letzte Reise von Dr. Livingstone in Zentralafrika, Vol.I, p.260).

India was already a very highly developed country with considerable class contradictions when it was taken into the possession of Europeans. They found there a powerful despotism and intense exploitation of the peoples. But all the oppression of native princes seemed small in comparison with that practised by England. Macaulay, certainly no ill-disposed enemy of the English regime, paints the following picture in his essay on Lord Clive:

Every servant of a British factor (agent of the India Company – K) was armed with all the power of his master; and his master rise armed with all the power of the Company. Enormous fortunes were thus rapidly accumulated at Calcutta, while thirty millions of human beings here reduced to the extremity of wretchedness. They had been accustomed to live under tyranny, but never under tyranny like this. They found the little finger of the Company thicker than the loins of Suraja Dowlah (‘the ruler of Bengal’, a very wicked despot whom the English had chased out – K]. Under their old masters they had at least one resource: when the evil became insupportable, the people rose and pulled down the government. But the English government roes not to be so shaken off. That government, oppressive as the most oppressive form of barbarian despotism, was strong with all the strength of civilisation. It resembled the government of evil genii rather than the government of human tyrants.

Since then the forms of English rule in India have certainly become more human, but the economic pressure of English rule still remains unbearable and leads to chronic poverty, whilst this rule is armed “with all the strength of civilisation”, against which every uprising has been in vain up to the present. Native despotism is today also less of a burden to the country than the liberal English regime. That was admitted in 1904 by Lord Salisbury in the English Parliament:

The British Government is never guilty of the violence and arbitrariness of the individual ruler. But instead of this it has its own particular faults which are much more innocent in intention, but far more terrible in effect.

That is confirmed by the facts. In a series of states, within India, where administration has been left to the native princes, the population finds itself more healthy, prospers better and is subject to less famines than the rest of the realm.

The taxes per head (in British India) are nominally lower than in the native states. In reality they are markedly more oppressive; for the population in the native states, which is much more wealthy, can bear payments easily and comfortably which would ruin the impoverished countryman in the British territory ... In the protectorates which have native home rule, during the time of a famine and for some time afterwards, either no taxes at all are collected, or only very trifling ones. In the British area of administration very little consideration is taken even in the very worst times, and if it is at all possible the full amount of taxes is exacted, Secondly, in the native territories, the peasant pays only one-eighth of the taxes due on cultivated land. In the British territory fallow and cultivated soil are taxed equally. That is a meaningful and important difference, which is for the most part to blame for the continual, deterioration of agricultural land in the British area. As the natives have to discharge the same taxes for the fallow land, they seldom leave a part of their small possession fallow; the land is continuously cultivated until it is totally exhausted. Thirdly, in the native states a peasant pays no tax on a well which he builds himself. In the British administrative area his taxes are immediately raised for such an improvement. Many such differences can be recounted. (Hyndman, Die Ursachen der Hungersnot in British-India (“The Causes of the Famine in British India”), Neue Zeit, Vol.XVIII, 2, pp.71 & 73)

It is clear that the “barbarism” into which India would sink if the British gave it up does not appear all that terrible. On the contrary, the English are hindering the rise, of India out of the barbarism of oriental despotism. With their overwhelming strength they guarantee the absolute regimes of the native rulers of the protectorates. It does not occur to them to have such rule limited by elected legislative Assemblies. For if despotism were to fall in the protectorates, their own despotism in the territories directly administered would be found even more unbearable. The casting off of the English yoke will clear the way for the defeat of the native princes as well.

For a while, a despotism of a different kind threatened to become dangerous for India if they threw off English rule: that of the Russian Tsar, whose regiments had already reached the Indian frontier. Whatever one may think of the British regime in India, a Russian one would without a doubt be worse. First of all, its need for money would force it to intensify the exploitation of the country whilst at the same time placing still more restrictions on the development of the productive forces. And all free political activity would be made impossible. At the same time it would signify an unprecedented increase in power for Tsardom. It should be remembered that England draws a round 700 million marks a year from India. What powerful resources that would provide for Russian despotism.

Russian despotism is the most evil and dangerous enemy of all human development. Every particular national interest has to be subordinated to the fight against it, however important and legitimate it be. For these reasons Marx and Engels in their time opposed the national uprisings in the Balkan states. For the same reasons the socialists of Europe could not, until recently, give their undivided sympathies to the efforts of the Indians to gain independence. The more far sighted Indians themselves did not, under these circumstances, demand complete independence, but only home rule under British protection: something like Australia or Canada, which are in fact independent, and which incur no duties but only advantages from the recognition of the dominion of the mother country without any reciprocal contribution they remain under the protection of its army and fleet.

But since Japan’s victory over Russia, the situation with regard to India has considerably changed. This victory has not merely overcome the illusion of inferiority of the Asians as against the Europeans and greatly raised their self-confidence. It has also made an end for ever of the Russian danger. However long the struggle between Tsarism and revolution may be drawn out, it has become unthinkable that Tsarism could ever again achieve the strength to conduct a great external war. Today that can only be done by a government which has the nation behind it. A strong Russia, capable of an external war, can only be created by the victory of the revolution. But such a Russia would be a democratic Russia. Whatever form its relationship to India may take, its expansion would no longer be a matter threatening all humanity. Today we no longer have the slightest ground for viewing Indian efforts for independence with anything but the greatest sympathy.

Even if there is no fear in this case of a relapse into barbarism, it would however be premature to assert the same about the freeing of every other colony. There are no doubt situations where the form of rule is still worse than that exercised by the English in India.

Oriental despotism becomes horrifyingly oppressive wherever it masters the instruments of power of European civilisation, but at the same time becomes the debtor of Europe. The need for money is so severe that such a state is even more avaricious than the capitalists with their mania for profits, but by the same token, it is deprived of the possibility of improvements, which are forced into existence by the capitalist profit motive, Furthermore, the resources of power borrowed by oriental despotism from civilisation, that is, the bureaucracy and army, make its rule as irresistible as that of capitalism. But since only external characteristics are imitated, the despots do not get the broad view made possible by civilisation, which has an insight into the most extensive and manifold conditions opened up to it by means of world trade and historical investigation. This kind of despotism brings to a peak the oppressive and degrading effects of capitalism, without developing any of its progressive qualities, and in the same way it develops only the oppressive characteristics of oriental despotism while destroying those aspects of it which soften its rule. It pairs despotism and capitalism in an abominable union.

Where capitalism takes power in backward nations in this way it usually has a more evil effect than the colonial system An example of this is provided by the Turkish regime.

Furthermore, unbearable conditions can be created where an agrarian people adjoin a nomadic people. The former are accustomed by their mode of production to a quiet, peaceful way of life, without weapons; whilst the mode of production of the latter, that is of equestrian peoples, engenders boldness, restlessness, desire for plunder and ruthlessness, which easily flares up into wild barbarity, plundering expeditions, acts of devastation which make all work impossible by the destruction of the most important instruments of production and even, finally, the carrying away of the best labour-powers into slavery – this is the state of affairs which results when cultivators and nomads adjoin. An example is afforded by the Kurds in Armenia or the Arab slave-robbers in Africa.

Assuredly, if the colonial rule of a European power is discontinued in order to make way for such despotism and rapine, no benefit would be afforded either to the inhabitants of the country, or to human development.

But foreign domination is not the only and not the best way of preventing such situations. The abominable form of despotism in question only draws its strength from the support given by European “civilisation”. It becomes untenable and collapses the moment this support is withdrawn. Europe has only to stop delivering money and weapons to the Turkish Sultan and his absolute regime will come to an end. If that has not yet happened, that is merely for the reason that Europe, that is to say, capitalist Europe, does not wish it. It sees the Sultan as its tax-gatherer who squeezes from his people the sums required by the European capitalists as interest on their capitals. For this reason, the authority of the Sultan can at most be broken where a European power wishes to replace him as occurred in Tunis or Egypt. It cannot, under any circumstances, be broken by the liberation of his subjects. But this capitalist practice is no reason for social democracy to see a colonial policy as the only alternative to such despotism.

What is required for the protection of peaceful agrarian peoples against warlike nomads is certainly not the driving out of the devil by Beelzebub, which would subject the peaceful agrarian people to foreign domination. The interests of the peasants would be far better protected if they were made capable of bearing arms, were provided with weapons and were instructed in their use. If the Armenians were treated in this way it would soon be seen how they got on with the Kurds. Of course the peasants might come upon the idea of using their military capacity against every exploiter and every attempt at exploitation – but social democracy cannot see this as any ground for accepting a colonial policy as the only alternative to nomadic rapine and slave hunting.

And there is a better way of bringing the robber nomads themselves to self-control and higher culture than by forcible subjugation. Rassel writes of this:

The changeover from a nomadic to a settled existence has only ever occurred in three ways. Either a wandering people has been restricted by force to such limited territories that there can no longer be any question of living by moving around with the cattle; or the herds are lost in a war; or finally, the people lives so near to a territory with a more stable and thus more secure culture that it voluntarily gives up its free but impoverished life in exchange for the peace an pleasures of a more stable existence. This last process is slower, but it is more fundamentally effective. It begins with the inclination, which exists also within these rough natures accustomed to hardships, for the enjoyment of culture and for the adornment of existence.

Trade is the most effective means towards this end.

Its effect under the conditions existing here is greater than the advancement of economic activity. Trade becomes a factor in politics, and eventually in culture, in that it satisfies those needs, stirs them up again, creates new ones until the nomad finally comes to the opinion that he is not able to provide for his needs as a narrow shepherd, and therefore goes over to agriculture or industry. (Völkerkunde (“Ethnology”), III)

Free trade, which increases needs and brings improved means of satisfying needs, is here also shown to be superior to the method of armed suppression. And yet Rassel is not considering the kind of trade aimed at civilising the nomads, but only at exploiting them. Friendly trade with no exploiting intentions would have an earlier and surer effect in settling the nomads and in ending their menace to their neighbours. The economic and intellectual superiority of modern civilisation over the barbarians must not be undervalued. It can work wonders in taming them – but of course, only if it is applied intelligently and patiently.

Where this is done, the ending of foreign rule over the nomads need not necessarily endanger their neighbours, that is, not if the neighbours are simultaneously made able to defend themselves.

However, the fears that the colonies would sink into barbarity do also have an economic basis. It is correct that every people is mature enough to take account of its own economic interests; that it requires no tutelage for this, and that it gets on much better without it. But that is not to say that every people is always mature enough for every mode of production. Now the capitalists at present export countless capitals to the colonies, with which they found great undertakings of all kinds; railways, canals, mines, cotton spinning, as well as cultivation of tobacco, coffee, cotton etc. What will happen when colonial political rule by the mother country ends? Will not all these undertakings be given up, and would this not be a massive technical step backwards for the colonies themselves, quite apart from the losses of the European capitalists?

We have already touched on this question whilst considering what harm is to be apprehended to the mother country from giving up the colonies, and need only to fill it out in one or two respects Where such undertakings rest upon forced labour, direct or indirect, there is indeed the probability that they will be given up if the colonies themselves are relinquished. But the disadvantages which could follow from this for the colonial population are fewer than those springing from forced labour. We expect that the freeing of the colonies will in this connection have similar consequences as the freeing of slaves. Production is temporarily damaged, but economic needs gradually revive it after the production process has been adapted to the new circumstances, The use of labour saving equipment may be advanced in the plantations. Where that is not possible the plantations may be broken up and transformed into small farms, which are worked by their owners themselves: which would likewise be an advance over forced labour.

The following figures apply to cotton production in the United States:

We can see that cotton production temporarily dropped considerably under the effects of the freeing of slaves, but then expanded all the quicker.

The situation is worse with hard to undertakings of trade and industry. These cannot, in case of necessity, be broken up and transformed into small holdings as in the case of plantations. They have to be continued as they are, or broken up.

But it is precisely undertakings of this kind which presuppose a free proletariat. They are carried on by free labourers who are either found on the spot, or come from outside – the directors and foremen always come from outside. To secure the other labour powers here it is only necessary to have the requisite increase in wages. Such enterprises, however, find the conditions of their prosperity predominantly in colonies which already have a higher economic and social development behind them. It is not to be feared that in such circumstances the advance of industry or railway undertakings will be in some way damaged by the freeing of the colony. If railways can be constructed in Turkey or China, they can be equally constructed in a free India or Egypt. The native states in India build railways just as jealously as the British Government. However, industrial undertakings in less developed colonies, which could be endangered by their being given up, are so rare that they cannot be taken into account. In such regions, only the railways are considerably developed, and it would be necessary to protect them. But what if this should only be possible by means of armed might? Formerly the caravan routes were made secure for travellers by the payment of tolls or tributes to the tribe whose territories they crossed. The railways could be secured in a similar way. It is not probable that, for instance, the negroes in the Congo, or on the Zambesi, would wish to disturb the operation of the railways in their territories, if they were free; they would be satisfied if they were left in peace and would finally come to feel affection for the railway if it no longer brought them armed rascals from the Congo state or Rhodesia, but only cheap tools and means of consumption. But if they should nevertheless place difficulties in the way of the conduct of the railways, their opposition could we overcome by giving them an interest in the railway, perhaps by paying a rent for the ground which they would collect. These peaceful methods are not merely more worthy, they could well turn out cheaper in the long run than the suppression and repression of the natives with armed force.

Giving up the colonies does not therefore mean giving up the technical advances which capitalism has brought to them, but only giving up the methods used up to the present to secure their use and replacement by other methods which are perhaps less convenient, and which would require more patience and understanding of the peculiarity of the natives, but which further the well-being and development of the natives much more than the methods of colonial conquest and possession.

After all of this, there can certainly be no doubt that we social democrats are everywhere obliged to advocate the release of the colonies. The grounds which have been advanced against this do not pose the question of whether they should be released but only of how. They only prove that the giving up of the colonies is no simple process – just as, for instance, giving up the system of protective tariffs is not easy; the making good of a stupid act is seldom a simple process – that usually, one cannot simply get out of the colonies, but that, just as with the relinquishment of protective tariffs, one has to prepare for the giving up of a colony, if it is to proceed without causing any damage.

It would however be highly unnecessary for us to worry our heads at present as to what would have to be done in each individual colony to prepare for its liberation. To seek a solution to this complicated problem, which would differ for each colony, would be to perform a quite superfluous labour, as the capitalist class will never voluntarily give up a colony.

This was talked about in the Manchester days, when capital still had a secure basis for its domination under free trade and the most rapid development of the productive forces. This was also the time when the freedom of India advanced most rapidly. But today, in the era of imperialism, the possession of every colony, however unfertile and costly, appears so priceless to the capitalists of every nation that they will fight tooth and nail any attempt to give up even a foot of any of them

The idea of giving up the colonies voluntarily can, therefore, so long as the rule of capitalism continues, only function for us like a compass which shows us the direction in which our policy on the colonies must tend, and not as a practical proposal on whose immediate implementation we must work. Its main practical implication for us is that we cannot agree to any extension in colonial possessions, and that we must work zealously for an increase in the self government of the natives. The native uprisings to throw off foreign domination will be always certain of the sympathies of the fighting proletariat. But the armed might of the capitalist nations is so immense that it is not to be expected that any of these uprisings could come anywhere near their aim. As much as we understand such rebellions, and as deeply as we sympathise with the rebels, social democracy cannot encourage them, just as it does not support pointless proletarian putsches in Europe itself.

But if it is not to be expected that the colonies will attain their independence in the capitalist era – not by force and still less by the benevolence of the ruling classes of the mother country – neither is it the case that the victorious proletariat will be much taken up with the question of giving up the colonies.

Whenever and however the proletariat may be victorious, its victory can only occur in a period of colossal shifts of power which result from long, embittered struggles and which shake all humanity to the core. Revolutions in Europe and North America cannot fail to affect the states in the rest of the world. The shifts of power between classes must be accompanied by shifts of power between races and states, just as it is probable on the other hand that internal revolutions are started off by external revolutions, world wars.

In this era of violent upturns, the nations which are already struggling for their freedom in the most advanced colonies must rapidly grow and find the strength to tear themselves away from the dominating countries whose state power will be totally absorbed by internal dissensions. India, the Philippines, Egypt, which at present already have such vigorous national movements, such a strong national, urban intelligence, and the beginnings of an industrial proletariat, will win their independence simultaneously with the proletariat of Europe and North America. Today there can no longer be any doubt of this. At the same time, however, the other colonial possessions must be influenced, even uprooted, by this great conflict. If Egypt is freed, then, the whole of North Africa and the Sudan, and also the rest of the black part of the world, must land up in the most vigorous turmoil. Following Egypt’s example, and under her influence, all these possessions must be spurred on to energetic insubordination against all foreign rule.

The same result must also follow the liberation of British India and the Philippines in the Island of Sound and in Polynesia. And these events, together with a Chinese uprising, must shatter European domination in the Indian hinterland.

The French Revolution and the consequent wars created the situation which enabled Mid and South American colonies to free themselves. The coming proletarian revolution will do the same for Africa and tropical Asia.

When the European and North American proletariat has conquered political power it will not be confronted with the question whether to pursue a socialist colonial policy or not, whether the colonial peoples are ripe for self-government or not; whether to grant them freedom or whether to exert tutelage over them and educate them in a patriarchal and well-meaning despotism. It will find that the most important colonies are independent states, and that the others are either under their influence or in complete uproar, and it will find that only one question will have to be decided: will it defeat the rebels in bloody war, will the European revolution forcibly smash the African or Asian revolution, or not?

And to this question the answer cannot for a minute be in doubt.

If we, therefore, are the opponents of a capitalist colonial policy – and the supporters of a socialist colonial policy never tire of telling us that they are, that they condemn it – then we are also opponents of every possible, if not – every conceivable colonial policy. A colonial policy which proceeds hand in hand with the education of the natives would have been possible in the democratic work colonies that existed in the 17th and 18th centuries. But since the 19th century this kind of colonial policy belongs irrevocably in the past. Therefore, the end of the present day capitalist colonial policy will mean the end of all colonial policy. The victory of the proletariat will of course find the most various kinds of cultural stages in existence in the world, and this victory will not make the spread of European technology, of European science and thought amongst the peoples of the tropics unnecessary – rather will it create the soil there for the most rapid dissemination of these things. But from this cultural mission no new relations of domination will arise. The victorious proletariat will not be the ruling class in the countries now possessed as colonies, but will forego all foreign domination.

The proletariat cannot free itself without freeing the whole of mankind. In this lies its greatness, its power of attraction, because of which its struggle for emancipation, its class struggle, has from the beginning drawn to it the greatest and most far-seeing spirits of all classes This is the sign under which it will be victorious.

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Last updated on 16.6.2004