Years ago, a British journalist friend confessed something that revealed how the ghosts of the empire still linger quietly in British minds. He was travelling to Delhi to discuss a partnership with an Indian broadcaster. At Heathrow, the airline staff asked for his Indian visa. "Why would I need a visa for India?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. When told that he could not board without one, he laughed awkwardly and returned home.
Later, after travelling to India on a valid visa, he confessed to me upon his return to London that he took India for granted, as if it was still an extension of Britain. He was a nice bloke and loved India. But, in a condescending way, while he rolled a cigarette between his lips, he said, "I suppose we Brits still think of India as our playground." I was shocked to hear that but kept a straight face and teased him: "You have finally learned that the Raj expired decades ago." He admitted how reflexive those old assumptions were. That quiet entitlement, that ease of habit, had become almost instinctive. Some attitudes die not with age, but with awareness. And admittedly, awareness takes time.
That conversation comes to mind now because every so often Britain reminds us that its imperial instincts are still alive, only dressed in modern sensibilities. Just as Prime Minister Keir Starmer landed in India last week, hoping to renew a relationship built on trade and shared values, a senior Tory MP, Robert Jenrick, dragged the tone back to the Raj era. Referring to Handsworth, a largely South Asian area of Birmingham, he described it as "a slum" and said that during his 90-minute visit, "I didn't see another white face."
Those words were telling. They revealed a discomfort that runs deeper than prejudice. It was the voice of the empire speaking in a modern tongue. At times, I hear such voices in social interactions, casual conversations and serious debates even now.
India-UK relations are today passing through a phase of warmth and contradiction. Prime Minister Modi's visit to London in July to conclude the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA), followed by PM Keir Starmer's visit with the largest-ever business delegation to India, has brought visible optimism to a relationship once burdened by its past. "India and the UK are natural partners," PM Modi said in Mumbai. "Our relationship is built on the shared values of democracy, freedom and the rule of law."
He added, "India's dynamism and the United Kingdom's expertise together create a unique synergy." His words reflected confidence and generosity, but also a subtle reminder that India stands tall now, no longer the junior partner of the past.
Curse Of The Colonial Past
Yet, beneath the warm smiles and measured speeches, there lingers a familiar unease: can this new partnership truly be one of equals when so many in Britain still speak the language of cultural superiority?
Jenrick's remark exposed that unease. Handsworth is no slum. It is a mosaic of ambition and memory: sari shops and spice stores, gurdwaras and mosques, small businesses and cafés, all echoing the story of people who built lives from scratch. These are the very families whose labour helped rebuild post-war Britain, who drove its buses, staffed its hospitals, taught in its schools and kept its factories alive. Yet to Jenrick, it was alien ground, not English enough, not white enough.
Isn't it ironic that as Britain courts modern India with open arms, parts of its political class still recoil at the sight of brown faces thriving in its own cities.
Jenrick's words were not a careless slip. They reflected an enduring mental map of an empire that still divides the world into "civilised" and "other". His discomfort at seeing no white faces in a British street echoes the old anxiety that Britain is losing its cultural control, even as it preaches global inclusivity.
And yet, this is the same Britain that today needs India more than ever. The United Kingdom's economy is slowing, its manufacturing base hollowed out, its global influence diminished, particularly after Brexit. India, by contrast, is growing steadily, confidently, and with purpose. It is now among the world's top five economies, a technological powerhouse, a manufacturing hub and a democratic counterweight to China's rise. The truth, quietly accepted in London's corridors of power, is that Britain needs India far more than India needs Britain. But habit and history make it hard to say aloud.
Will Britain Ever Apologise?
As the two prime ministers toast their shared vision, one question still lingers, will Britain ever truly confront its colonial past? Will it ever apologise for the wrongs of the empire, for Jallianwala Bagh, for the engineered famines, for the systematic draining of wealth that impoverished generations?
Each time an Indian leader visits Britain, the question resurfaces: will London ever say sorry? Each time, it sidesteps, offering instead the language of "regret", as if the empire were an unfortunate misunderstanding rather than a deliberate exercise of domination. In many Indians' view, a formal apology would not be an act of humiliation; it would be one of fairness, of correcting the wrongs of history. It would recognise in no uncertain terms that the prosperity of one nation was built upon the suffering of another.
It leaps to the eye that when a modern democracy admits its moral failures, it grows in stature, not weakness. An apology from Britain would not erase the past, but it would dignify the present. It would tell the world that Britain is ready to engage with India not as an heir to the empire but as an equal partner in a new century.
Today, the tables of power have turned, haven't they? Consider this: India has what Britain once commanded - youth, scale, energy and the confidence of a nation whose time has come. Britain has what India still values: influence, networks and access to Washington's ear.
The Free Trade Agreement will open vast opportunities. Tariffs will fall, markets will open and mobility will increase. British whisky, Indian pharmaceuticals, shared fintech ventures and joint research centres are all part of this new architecture. But its symbolism goes beyond economics. It marks a reversal of history. The former colony extending a hand to the former empire to revive its fortunes, don't you agree?
Yet, trade without trust is a transaction, not a partnership. And trust cannot grow when senior British politicians still speak in the language of hierarchy, superiority and nostalgia.
Handsworth, in truth, is a metaphor for Britain itself - diverse, chaotic, vibrant, sometimes struggling but always alive. It is full of people whose grandparents once came from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and the Caribbean, bringing with them a fierce belief in hard work and dignity. To dismiss such a community is an insult. The MP has said he was not sorry for the statement he made. It is a reminder that for many in Britain's establishment, the people from former colonies were an unwelcome presence.
Closure, Not Revenge
Yet, India does not seek revenge. It seeks recognition. PM Modi's warmth toward PM Starmer, his outreach to the British monarchy and his insistence on forward-looking cooperation reflect a new maturity. India has nothing to prove. Its economy grows faster than Britain's. Its diaspora wields immense influence. Its culture - from cinema to cuisine - dominates British streets and screens. An apology from Britain would not be a gift to India; it would be a restoration of Britain's own moral compass.
The FTA will form the economic bridge between the two countries. But the moral bridge still waits to be built - over the ground of Jallianwala, across the silence of unspoken apologies. If Britain can find the grace to say sorry, not as a gesture of guilt but as an act of greatness, it will unlock a relationship no longer trapped by history but enriched by it.
As the former colony and its coloniser come closer than ever before, perhaps the real story is not about tariffs or trade. I think it is about time itself. A century ago, it was a British general giving orders in Amritsar. Today, it is an Indian prime minister setting the tone of global diplomacy. History appears to rebalance itself.
India no longer seeks validation from its old ruler. It seeks fairness, respect and acknowledgement. The FTA may bring trade and prosperity, but an apology would bring something more enduring - truth and justice.
(Syed Zubair Ahmed is a London-based senior Indian journalist with three decades of experience with the Western media)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
