logo
Brian Bond obituary: pioneering academic at war studies school

Brian Bond obituary: pioneering academic at war studies school

Times19 hours ago

English and geography once struggled to gain acceptance as degree subjects but war studies struggled longer. In 1966 Brian Bond joined the newly formed department at King's College London (KCL) as a lecturer, giving up his more 'respectable' post in the history department at Liverpool.
A department of military science had existed at KCL since the college's early years in the 19th century but it was not until 1962 that a separate, permanent department was established for the study of war and its impact on the world. Sir Michael Howard (obituary, December 2, 2019) was its founder and, thanks in the main to his support, Bond would go on to become reader and then professor of military history, writing numerous books and papers specialising in the late 19th century and the two world wars.
He was first encouraged in the subject by no less a figure than Sir Basil Liddell Hart, the former Great War soldier, interwar strategist and apostle of 'the indirect approach', although perhaps studied more in Nazi Germany than in Britain. While reading history at Worcester College, Oxford, in the late 1950s, Bond met Liddell Hart at home in Buckinghamshire, where the latter had recently settled and Bond's father had become his gardener. At Oxford, Bond had elected to take the special subject paper on Napoleonic military history taught by Norman Gibbs, Chichele professor of the history of war. Liddell Hart, impressed by his gardener's son's scholarship, gave him access to his library and private papers and introduced him to visiting prominenti including Howard, who encouraged him to take an MA in war studies. This he completed in 1962 while lecturing at Exeter and then Liverpool.
Brian James Bond was born in Marlow, Buckinghamshire, in 1936 to Edward Bond and Olive (née Sartin). He was an early beneficiary of the 1944 (Butler) Education Act, gaining a free place at Sir William Borlase's Grammar School in 1947. Leaving school in 1954 he elected to do his two years' National Service first, rather than deferring it to take up his place at Oxford, and was commissioned into the Royal Artillery. Although hardly the same as Howard's decorated active service in Italy with the Coldstream Guards, it did at least give him an insider's understanding of military culture and some credibility with serving officers looking to KCL for professional development. In 1962 he married Madeleine Joyce Carr. She died in 2023. They had no children.
Bond's first book, as the editor of Victorian Military Campaigns, with each campaign written by a different historian, including Sir John Keegan, was published in 1967. Next came a serious study of the Victorian army and the staff college before two books on the Second World War and a highly regarded study of British military policy between the wars.
He was disappointed not to be Liddell Hart's official biographer, the job going instead to one of his former doctoral students. Evidently Liddell Hart's widow, Kathleen, had wrongly believed that Bond had said that her husband had been a fascist. To an extent, honour was satisfied when, with the diplomatic intervention of Howard, he was allowed to write an interim study of Liddell Hart's ideas, but not touching on his life as a whole: Liddell Hart: a Study of His Military Thought (1977). Unfortunately, two reviews focused not on the book but on Liddell Hart himself — and disobligingly — which further upset his widow.
Bond then turned, as eventually all British military historians must, to the First World War and in particular to the Western Front, which meant Field Marshal Haig. Undoubtedly the pendulum had swung beyond all balance with the publication in 1961 of Alan Clark's The Donkeys, a book that Howard dismissed as being almost entirely worthless. Some rebalancing was needed but Bond's revisionism was considered by many to be almost as unbalanced as Clark's diatribe. It was ironic, too, that Bond's revisionism disputed Liddell Hart's own assessment of the British high command in the First World War. One review of Haig: A Reappraisal said that Bond wrote with blinkers on: '[His] Haigiography testifies to the power of British patriotism and loyalty into which, as a British general, Haig tapped. Bond's defence of Haig's asininity horsed cavalry convictions is only exceeded by defence of Haig when he was faced by the evidence that his major push into the Somme had failed.'
A later book, The Unquiet Western Front: Britain's Role in Literature and History (2002), which tried to unpick the myth, as he saw it, from the 'reality', brought a sharp retort from the other side of the Atlantic that Bond was trying to 'set up traditional military history in the mansion while relegating art to the little shed out back'.
Disappointed not to have become head of the war studies department, Bond knew that his strength lay principally in teaching, which he did at KCL for 35 years. He was also a visiting professor at the University of Western Ontario, visiting lecturer at the US Naval War College, visiting fellow at Brasenose and briefly at All Souls colleges, Oxford, and for 20 years was president of the British Commission for Military History.
In 2001 he retired to Buckinghamshire to watch cricket, a lifelong passion, to tend his garden and to visit country houses. He was, too, a strong supporter of wildlife conservation, especially of foxes, not a species usually thought to require protection, unlike Field Marshal Haig.
Brian Bond, pioneering war studies academic, was born on April 17, 1936. He died on June 2, 2025, aged 89

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

The ugly buildings we secretly love
The ugly buildings we secretly love

Telegraph

time28 minutes ago

  • Telegraph

The ugly buildings we secretly love

When news came last week that Liverpool's Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King – colloquially known as 'Paddy's Wigwam' – had been granted Grade I-listed status, it marked a long-awaited vindication for a building that has weathered its fair share of criticism. The design by Sir Frederick Gibberd, selected from 300 entries worldwide, took shape over five years (1962–67) and sits atop Mount Pleasant, overlooking the city with views stretching to the Mersey estuary beyond. Built quickly and cheaply – as many post-war buildings were – it has been described as 'a gargantuan concrete aberration from the Apollo space programme'. Even as recently as 2013, CNN named it one of the world's ugliest buildings. Inside, of course, the story is very different. Bathed in coloured light from the kaleidoscopic stained glass, the cathedral is an extraordinary space – one that has come to be cherished by Liverpudlians, Catholic or not. It is the latest in a long line of buildings that, though they didn't receive universal acclaim at first, have endured nonetheless. Scottish Parliament Building, Edinburgh The 1997 vote for Scottish Devolution meant a new parliament was needed, but its birth was, to put it mildly, a car crash. Ten times over budget and years behind schedule, Holyrood's construction became a dream story for the press but a nightmare for MSPs and civil servants, whose mistakes were broadcast daily. The image of the dour, thrifty Scot clashed with the flamboyance of the building's cost and design, hardly endearing it to the public when it opened in 2004. Questions were also raised about the practicality of the joint design by RMJM – one of the world's largest architecture and design firms – and Barcelona-based architect Enric Miralles, who avoided much of the controversy by passing away midway through the project in 2000. Yet opinions shifted after it won the 2005 Stirling Prize, the highest honour in British architecture. Scots, embracing a new era free from Westminster's control, came to see the building as a symbol of a renaissance north of the border. Today, visitors flock to marvel at its outré design. Hillingdon Civic Offices, Uxbridge Hillingdon Council's Ford Granada-driving apparatchiks wanted a new HQ, and what they got ended up defining over a decade of suburban style in Britain. If the Hillingdon Civic Centre reminds you of a supermarket, you wouldn't be far off – this became the signature look of Tescos and Safeways across the south. The bulky Civic Centre was designed by Andrew Derbyshire of RMJM and opened in 1979. 'Like any suburban orgy, it was more comical than sexy,' said the architecture journalist Jonathan Meades. 'It was the architectural equivalent of Benny Hill or Sid James: coarse, matey, blokeish, undemanding, unthreatening, accessible.' This building felt like the starting point of a backlash against the progressive and exciting modernism that had flourished during Britain's ' Les Trente Glorieuses'. Over the following 30 years, there was little but disdain for modernist achievements and a widespread retreat from ambition, with brick vernacular becoming especially fashionable in this new, cautious era. Nowadays, modernism and postmodernism have found a warmer welcome. While Hillingdon Civic Centre might not immediately evoke the wild, pastel-coloured tropical postmodernism of John Outram and others, it's certainly an uncle to those buildings. Now listed, it enjoys a bit more affection from the people of Uxbridge. University of East Anglia, Norwich The serpentine teaching block, dubbed the Lasdun Wall, snakes along a ridge where University of East Anglia (UEA) students study, while the eye-popping ziggurats tumbling down towards the River Yare are where they sleep. Space-age chic seems entirely at odds with sleepy Norfolk; architectural historian Elain Harwood called it 'the boldest architecture of any new university', and it became the backdrop to Malcolm Bradbury's novel The History Man. It's heartening that, despite the UEA's stark 1960s campus, it has gained more fans as it has reached middle age. It's not without problems – issues with the fireproof reinforced autoclaved aerated concrete (RAAC), widely used as a cheap material especially in roofs, have led to the closure of the ziggurats during remediation work. Meanwhile, new extensions to the university have sparked thorough debate. Architecture fans visiting can also explore the Sainsbury Centre next door. Designed by Lord Foster, it opened in 1978 and was hailed as revolutionary for its lightweight, high-tech design, influencing many airports and office buildings throughout the 1980s and 1990s. Southbank Centre, London London's Southbank Centre has long been at the heart of various culture wars. When Churchill's Tories won the autumn 1951 snap election, they sought to dismantle the remains of the Festival of Britain, viewing it as a thoroughly socialist project by Labour's Herbert Morrison – which, of course, it was. The futuristic Skylon was removed, but the Royal Festival Hall survived. The Southbank Centre was expanded in a brutalist style during the 1960s. Its maze of passageways and high walkways confused visitors, while its gruff exteriors offended many sensibilities. In 1988, the then Prince Charles famously likened Denys Lasdun's National Theatre (NT) to a nuclear power station. Today, attitudes have shifted. We now recognise the stark beauty in its complexity and surreal sculptural forms, and the restrained harmony of the theatre complex in particular. John Grindrod wrote in his 2013 book Concretopia that 'Lasdun's interiors have a rather cosy aesthetic,' echoing theatre critic Michael Billington's 1976 view that the NT is 'a superb piece of sculpture.' The entire Southbank complex was designed the way it was because planners insisted on roads and car parks, and even proposed building a heliport next door – hence the Queen Elizabeth Hall's thick, austere walls. Today, the terraces are bustling with diners, while the undercrofts have become a beloved haunt for skateboarders. Moseley Road Baths, Birmingham The residents of Balsall Heath in south Birmingham were certainly grateful when the baths on Moseley Road opened in 1907. Back in 1890, Birmingham was hailed as the 'best-governed city in the world' by Harper's Magazine – a claim that might raise a wry smile from today's locals still waiting for their bins to be collected. Its trams, housing, utilities and public baths were all part of a civic effort to lift the city from industrial slum to modern metropolis. But the baths were not universally loved, and have only narrowly escaped demolition, more due to luck than design. As the 20th century wore on and more homes welcomed bathrooms and washing machines, fewer people needed the bathhouse. And Birmingham (city motto: 'Forward'), spent much of the 1960s demolishing its Victorian and Edwardian architecture, including the grand Central Library and the original New Street Station, as tastes turned against the ornate. In recent years, however, a dedicated campaign has saved the arts-and-crafts building. Now Grade II-listed and undergoing careful restoration, the Moseley Road Baths are protected at last. Scarborough Grand Hotel, North Yorkshire Scarborough's grande dame was originally conceived as the Cliff Hotel, built at a time when the town was establishing itself as a premier seaside resort following the arrival of the railway on the Yorkshire coast. Visitors came to take the waters, and a grand hotel was needed to accommodate them. But throughout its life, the building has been a victim of its own scale – beset by fires, outbreaks of illness, and now, by its current management. Run as a tired, cut-price hotel, it was dubbed 'the shame of Scarborough' by Tory mayoral candidate Keane Duncan last year. When it opened in the 1860s, it was one of the largest hotels ever built – so large, in fact, that some wondered whether it was all a bit much for the once-sleepy fishing town. The Grand's story is closely tied to that of its architect, the exquisitely named Cuthbert Brodrick. A Hull native, Brodrick also designed Leeds' monumental Town Hall and Corn Exchange – buildings with a distinctive size and swagger that often clashed with the era's more restrained architectural tastes. Brodrick's overblown Oriental Turkish Baths on Cookridge Street in Leeds were unceremoniously demolished in the 1960s – by then, he had well and truly fallen from favour. That changed in 2007, when Jonathan Meades made a film about him for BBC Two, sparking a reappraisal of his work. Today, the Grand is a much-loved landmark on the Yorkshire coast. Blackpool Tower, Blackpool The Eiffel Tower is perhaps the most famous example of a building once heavily derided that has only grown in popularity with age. Blackpool's imitation, by contrast, was long dismissed as a poor copy aimed at entertaining the lower classes. Like Brighton's more recent i360 seafront tower, it was seen by some as overly tall and something of a white elephant. Today, it's a listed building, and its kitsch swagger has come to define the Blackpool seafront. We'd never dream of demolishing it now – nor its ballroom, the spiritual home of ballroom dancing. Yet in the 1920s, there was serious talk of tearing it all down. It may seem far-fetched, but that's exactly what happened to the similar-looking New Brighton Tower on the Wirral. Despite being even taller than Blackpool's, it had few defenders when it was demolished in 1919 after just 20 years. Its ballroom – where the Beatles played no fewer than 27 concerts – met the same fate in 1969, following a major fire. Strawberry Hill House, London A gothic wedding cake by the Thames, Strawberry Hill House is a singular and delightfully eccentric creation – perfectly in keeping with its owner, Horace Walpole. An unmarried enigma and gothic novelist who puzzled polite society, Walpole built his fantastical home in Twickenham as a whimsical homage to medieval cathedrals and castles. It was a world away from the architectural fashions of the mid-1700s and, at first, had few admirers. Slowly but surely, people began to visit, drawn in by the fairytale interiors and jaunty gardens, and Strawberry Hill House grew into an attraction. A century later, gothic revival (an architectural style) had become a full-blown Victorian obsession – just look at the Houses of Parliament – so Walpole's creation no longer seemed quite so outlandish. Architecture critic Ian Nairn once remarked that 'Walpole's stucco fancy' was 'prettier and less finicking than you'd expect'. A high-profile restoration in the 2000s, featured on TV, brought a new wave of admirers. Today, the house welcomes around 25,000 visitors a year. Buckingham Palace, London Like the face of an ageing celebrity, Buckingham Palace has had more alterations over the years than you can shake a Botox syringe at. Throughout its life, it has endured feelings ranging from antipathy to outright hostility from its residents. The original house, built in 1703 by William Winde, was – using the polite parlance of stately home design – 'improved' countless times. It was so often disliked that entire sections were torn down and rebuilt. John Nash's lavish 1820s redesign nearly bankrupted the Royal household, and he was promptly sacked. When Queen Victoria made it her primary residence in 1837, the palace still failed to charm – particularly Prince Albert. Albert tried to modernise it with plumbing, lighting and even toilets for servants. But, like many of his descendants, he preferred to be elsewhere. His own pet project, Osborne House on the Isle of Wight, was met with a lukewarm response thanks to its oddly Italianate style. The late Queen favoured Windsor and Balmoral; the current King prefers Highgrove and Clarence House. Yet today, tourists flock to the Palace's current form, fronted by Aston Webb's century-old Portland stone façade. More state venue than family home, it may have finally found its purpose.

Special needs crisis: Transporting SEN children to school is costing £1.5bn a YEAR as numbers with EHCP entitlements soar
Special needs crisis: Transporting SEN children to school is costing £1.5bn a YEAR as numbers with EHCP entitlements soar

Daily Mail​

time40 minutes ago

  • Daily Mail​

Special needs crisis: Transporting SEN children to school is costing £1.5bn a YEAR as numbers with EHCP entitlements soar

The cost of transporting children with special needs to schools in England spiked to £1.5billion last year, according to official estimates. The sharp increase comes amid mounting fears over pressures on the system from youngsters requiring additional support. Data released last week showed the number of children with education, health and care (EHC) plans - which allow them to access funding for special needs - surged by 10 per cent in the year to January. And provisional budgets have underlined the increase in the costs of helping people get to schools. Just over £1.5billion was earmarked for transporting SEN pupils aged up to 16 in 2024-25. That was up from £1.2billion the previous year - and around three times the level from 2017-18. The overall schools budget in England was around £64billion last year. Transport for mainstream pupils rose by around a fifth to £514million in 2024-25, although the rises have not been as pronounced previously. Local authorities are responsible for funding the support specified in EHCPs, which can include attending special schools further away. Previous research by CCN - the County Councils Network - has shown the average local authority in England was transporting 1,300 SEND pupils in 2023-24. That was 43 per cent higher than the 911 in 2018-19. The average cost per SEND pupil using transport has also increased by a third from £6,280 to £8,299. SEND is a slightly broader category than SEN, including those classed as having disabilities. Any child is entitled to free travel if the nearest suitable school is more than two miles away for under-eights - or three miles for older children. Department for Education (DfE) figures showed last week that there were 638,700 children and young people with an EHCP as of January this year. That was 10.8 per cent higher than in January 2024, when there were 576,474 children and young people with an EHC plan. An EHC plan is a legal document that sets out what support a child or young person requires for their special educational needs. The number of EHCPs has increased each year since their introduction in 2014. Local councils are responsible for ensuring that all needs set out in an EHC plan are met. Education Secretary Bridget Phillipson admitted earlier this month that the Government needed to 'think differently' about the system of EHC plans as it is 'just not working'. 'This is not about taking away support for families or children,' she told MPs. Ms Phillipson added: 'It is about making sure that there is much earlier identification of need and that support is put in place much more rapidly, including ahead of any formal diagnosis.' The data published last week showed 5.3 per cent of pupils in English schools now have an EHC plan, up from 4.8 per cent last year. There are now 1.28million pupils in English schools who receive special educational needs support without an EHC plan. That was an increase of 3.7 per cent from 2024. The most common type of need for those with an EHC plan is autistic spectrum disorder, DfE said. And for those with SEN support it is speech, language and communication needs. Funding for special educational needs and disabilities (SEND)in England is not allocated as a separate amount per pupil. It is instead part of the overall 'dedicated schools grant' allocated to each local authority. Council leaders have warned they are facing 'unmanageable' SEND deficits, which has left many town halls facing bankruptcy over the coming years. Parliament's spending watchdog has also criticised the 'chaotic' system for accessing SEND support in damning report earlier this year. The most common type of need for those with an EHC plan is autistic spectrum disorder, DfE said Stephen Kingdom, campaign manager at the Disabled Children's Partnership, told The Times that lack of appropriate school provision was the main factor behind the rise in transport costs. He said: 'Generally, children with Send travel further because the right provision isn't available locally. 'Transport also tends to cost more for disabled children. For example, wheelchair users may need specialist vehicles, and some neurodiverse children might require an adult to accompany them to travel safely. 'If the government gets its Send reform right … more children should be successfully educated in more local schools, which should naturally bring down the transport budgets.'

Manchester Museum asks visitors if Egyptian woman's body should be taken off display
Manchester Museum asks visitors if Egyptian woman's body should be taken off display

The Guardian

timean hour ago

  • The Guardian

Manchester Museum asks visitors if Egyptian woman's body should be taken off display

One of Europe's leading museums is asking visitors if it should continue to display the body of an ancient Egyptian woman 200 years after it was brought to the UK by cotton merchants, as it 'decolonises' some of its most famous exhibits. Manchester Museum, which in May was named 2025's European museum of the year, is running a consultation on the future of Asru, a woman who lived in Thebes, the ancient city in the location of modern-day Luxor, 2,700 years ago. A plaque at the museum asks: 'Should we continue to display the body of Asru?', inviting visitors to submit answers in a postbox underneath. It adds: 'Asru's mummified body was unwrapped at the Manchester Natural History Society in April 1825. She has regularly been on display for the two centuries since. In that time, we have also changed as a museum and are thinking more about how we care for people.' The story of Asru's body is one of several that show how the development of the UK museum sector benefited from colonialism and transatlantic slavery, at a time when the ethics of displaying human bodies and spoils from imperial expansion are being questioned. In March a report by MPs from the all-party parliamentary group for Afrikan reparations called for bans on selling ancestral remains and publicly displaying them without consent. Asru's finely decorated wooden coffin reveals a few biographical details. An affluent woman who was about 60 when she died, her father was called Pa-Kush, which means 'the Kushite', a Black man from modern-day Sudan. Pa-Kush worked as a scribe, a high-status role, when Egypt had Kushite pharaohs. Asru's name means 'her arm is against them'. In the 19th century, Asru's sarcophagus was acquired by Robert and William Garnett, the sons of a former trader in enslaved African people, who had followed him into the cotton industry, research by one of the museum's curators, Campbell Price, found. The Garnetts donated Asru's body to the Manchester Natural History Society, the forerunner to Manchester Museum. Alongside the Asru consultation, the museum has launched its Decolonise! Trail , named after the initiative in arts and culture that is being used to challenge stereotypical perspectives linked to empire and colonialism. The trail links displays of items from Africa and Asia, subverting traditional 'Eurocentric' narratives about them through artworks newly displayed alongside them. It is supported by a booklet that asks questions such as 'Should a desire for knowledge override the wishes of ancient cultures?', 'Do you know where the minerals in your technology come from?' and 'What is climate justice?'. Sign up to The Long Wave Nesrine Malik and Jason Okundaye deliver your weekly dose of Black life and culture from around the world after newsletter promotion Next to African spearheads – items that the booklet describes as having 'reinforced reductive and inaccurate ideas about African people' – is an LGBTQ+ comic strip story by the Congolese artist Edher Numbi. A mural by the British artists the Singh twins in the museum's south Asia gallery examines the link between enslavement and India's colonisation. It features a 1928 quote from the then UK home secretary, William Joynson-Hicks, who, speaking of India as a major export market for 'Lancashire cotton goods', said: 'We did not conquer India for the benefit of the Indians … We conquered India as an outlet for the goods of Britain. We conquered India by the sword, and by the sword we shall hold it.' Chloe Cousins, Manchester Museum's social justice manager, who created the trail, said: 'The trail is new but the concept of decolonising isn't new to Manchester Museum at all. Telling more accurate and nuanced accounts of the history of the collections is one of the ways we can care for the people and communities whose belongings, stories and histories are held here.'

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store