Zulu Victory or British Defeat?: Analysing the Battle of Isandlwana, 1879

Zulu Victory or British Defeat?: Analysing the Battle of Isandlwana, 1879


On 22nd January 1879 the army of the Zulu king, Cetshwayo kaMpande, clashed with a British force encamped on the rocky slopes of a hill known as Isandlwana. The battle that followed would go down as the greatest defeat suffered by the British army against a technologically inferior foe. It was the outlier, the aberration, the anomaly within the highly efficient machinery of British colonial expansion. Indeed of almost any colonial nation’s pursuit of territory overseas. The battle of Adwa, fought in 1896, between the expansionist army of Italy and an Ethiopian army seeking to defend its independence was arguably Isandlwana’s closest cousin. Here, African troops not only defeated their European invaders, but brought the Italian war of conquest to a close.  Isandlwana, on the other hand, was merely a setback, albeit a substantial one. Within days of the news of the battle reaching London, officers and men on furlough were recalled in order to bolster the ranks and avenge the reverse at Isandlwana.

The idea of such a shocking defeat of British troops by a native force went against the usual pattern of imperial conquest. Successful campaigns had been conducted against the Ashanti on the Gold Coast of West Africa, and Sudan had been brought under British control following the battle of Omdurman in 1898.  When setbacks had occurred, such as when a British force had advanced against the Ashantis in 1864, it had been disease brought forth by the rainy season that had taken half of the troops out of service, as opposed to enemy action.  The scale of the defeat at Isandlwana also marked it out as different. Of the force of roughly 2,000 men stationed at Isandlwana, nearly 1,400 were killed by the enemy.  They had faced a Zulu army numbering approximately 24,400 warriors and been destroyed.  This paper will seek to explore the reasons behind such a comprehensive Zulu victory, including the military development of the Zulu nation, as well as the composition of Zulu society. It will also examine the British approach to war with the Zulus in order to determine which factors were crucial in bringing about such a catastrophic defeat. Prior to this, the historiography of the battle and its fallout will be looked into, beginning with the Court of Enquiry that was convened less than a week after the battle, up to more recent work built on new evidence. Ultimately, this paper will attempt to answer the question of whether Isandlwana should be seen as a Zulu victory or a British defeat.

The invasion of Zululand by the British was based upon a desire to recreate the confederation scheme that had been implemented in Canada. Confederation was essentially the uniting of separate states into a single political entity.  In the case of South Africa, it would bring Boer and Briton together, with the Zulus an issue that needed dealing with.  Angling for a war that could remove the threat of the Zulu army, the British Commander in Chief in South Africa, Sir Henry Bartle Frere, reacting to a report by a Boundary Commission over the Transvaal-Zululand border, affixed completely unacceptable terms to an ultimatum presented to Cetshwayo.  The terms included demands such as the disbanding of the entire Zulu army.  Indeed the ultimatum had been deliberately designed to be rejected and to provide justification for a war. To agree to such demands would have been akin to the abandonment of the Zulu way of life.  

Upon the expiration of the ultimatum, a force of some 18,000 men crossed the Buffalo River from Natal into Zululand, split into five columns.  Lieutenant-General Frederick Thesiger, 2nd Baron Chelmsford (hereafter referred to as Lord Chelmsford), attaching himself and his staff to Colonel Richard Glyn’s No. 3 Column, was in overall command of the invasion force.  Having recently brought to a satisfactory conclusion the Ninth Frontier War against the Xhosa, Chelmsford felt that the Zulus could be dealt with in a similar manner.  Arthur Harness, an officer in the Royal Artillery who had been part of the invasion force, noted how little regard there was for the martial qualities of the Zulus, especially after the war with the Xhosa, who lacked the military inclination of the Zulus.  As Harness states, it was, fatally, only after Isandlwana that the discipline, bravery and disregard for life that the Zulus possessed was realised.  With this idea of the Zulus as an adversary clearly planted in Chelmsford’s mind, he was eager to avoid a repeat of the protracted campaign in the Cape, where it had been difficult to corner the Xhosa warriors.  In order to do this, Chelmsford departed from the camp established at Isandlwana with around half of the available troops, in an effort to hunt down the main body of Zulus.  The camp and its defence was left in the hands of Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Pulleine. It was unimaginable to Chelmsford that Pulleine would see any action during this period, or that the camp was in any danger of being attacked by the enemy.  The discovery of a large number of Zulus five miles from the camp by a mounted patrol changed that.

Witnessing a column leave the camp earlier that morning had convinced Ntshingwayo kaMahole, the commander of the Zulu impi (army), that this was the time to strike.  Ntshingwayo deployed his army in the traditional horns of the buffalo formation.  This tactic involved two wings, or horns, that encircled the enemy as the main body of troops attacked head on, with the loins forming the reserve.  In doing so, Ntshingwayo exposed the limitations of the British troops at Isandlwana, who were tasked with not just defeating their enemy, but also with the defence of the camp and all that remained there, including supplies and ammunition for the whole column.  This task, of defending the camp, was made even more difficult by Lieutenant-Colonel Anthony Durnford and his mounted units extending the frontage of the camp by galloping off to find the Zulus, forcing Pulleine to deploy a company of infantry to support him.  The rest of Pulleine’s infantry held up the Zulu advance with volleys, pinning them down several hundred yards from the camp. As the Zulu right horn began to fan out around the blindside of Isandlwana, and with Durnford’s troops falling back, exposing the infantry sent to support them, the tide of the battle irreversibly turned.  Pulleine’s decision to withdraw his men closer to the camp was seen by Ntshingwayo as the cue to begin a drive at the centre of the British position.  With the British camp engulfed with Zulus, small squares of men attempted to stave off the inevitable.  Wearing these clusters down, the Zulus launched throwing assegais, as the men of the 24th Regiment ‘braced their bayonets and stood stoically at bay’.  The last of these groups had fought its way onto a rocky shelf halfway up Isandlwana. The officer at the head of this group, Captain Reginald Younghusband, led a suicidal charge down the slopes of the hill, his sword whirling above his head.  At this group’s demise the battle was over, with not a single redcoated solider surviving.  More British officers had been killed at Isandlwana than had died at Waterloo.

Much of the early material concerning Isandlwana seeks to find reasons for the British defeat, or to apportion blame to a particular individual. By the time of the Court of Enquiry, held on 27th January and restricted to investigating ‘the loss of the camp’ rather than the ‘circumstances of the disastrous affair’, Frere was already of the opinion that the camp had fallen because Durnford had overruled Pulleine.  The issue of who was in command of the camp is central to the laying of blame. Major Francis Clery, Glyn’s Adjutant-General, had written a note to Pulleine confirming that, upon Chelmsford’s departure, ‘[Pulleine] will be in command of the camp’.  Rather confusingly, Chelmsford’s notes on the enquiry state that it was Durnford who had been ordered to take command. Perhaps, in an effort to rectify this lack of clarity, and to deflect some of the blame placed on him by the War Office, Chelmsford turned to Glyn as his scapegoat. Stating that ‘any neglect of details connected with the command of No. 3 Column’ was not his fault, Chelmsford was clearly trying to distance himself from the defeat at Isandlwana.  What is apparent, however, is the need at the time to find somebody who was chiefly responsible.

The other side of this debate saw robust defences, particularly of those who had died during the battle. Edward Durnford, brother of Anthony, and Frances Colenso, Anthony’s romantic interest, noted how ‘undisguised attempts…have been made to throw the blame on the dead’.  In their opinion, it had not been the responsibility of those that had perished to choose the location of the camp, or divide the force, amongst other factors, clearly pointing the finger of blame in Chelmsford’s direction.  

Ian FW Beckett notes that by the 1880s, with the onset of war in Afghanistan and the First Boer War, interest in the Zulu War had waned.  Beckett states that the conflict being studied by a professional historian for the first time was a turning point in popular interest. This was Sir Reginald Coupland’s Zulu Battle Piece, published in 1948.  While Coupland does recognise the British underestimation of the Zulus’ fighting capabilities, he also begins to state reasons for Britain’s defeat, such as a failure to laager  wagons and the infantry firing line running out of ammunition.  A further lull in interest after the publication of Coupland’s book was perhaps down to the decolonisation that was occurring after the Second World War, when imperial themes lost their appeal to military historians.  It was the serendipitous arrival of both Donald Morris’ The Washing of the Spears in 1965, hot on the heels of the hugely successful film Zulu the year before, that saw an explosion of renewed interest in the subject.  

If earlier works on the battle of Isandlwana had dealt with blame, the next wave of literature sought reasons for the defeat, with a strong Anglocentric focus. Morris’ account was massively successful, selling over 200,000 copies and being printed in seventeen languages, but it further obscured the truth about what actually happened on the battlefield.  One such suggestion made by Morris was that it was a slow and laborious task to open ammunition boxes, requiring the removal of six screws from the lid in order to access the packets of bullets inside.  As Beckett points out, however, it was only one screw that needed extracting before the lid could be removed.  It has also been pointed out that in drastic circumstances, such as those facing the British Quartermasters at Isandlwana, a sharp blow from the butt of a rifle could smash the lid of the box open.  Another reason for the British defeat put forward by Morris was that a unit of the Natal Native Contingent, infantry battalions raised from the local black population, had broke, causing a gaping hole in the British firing line which was exploited by the Zulus.  According to Morris, ‘they rose as one man, cast aside their weapons, and fled’.  Both Tony Pollard and Mike Snook note that this was the position taken by the official enquiry and the official history of the war.  To Snook, this is an attempt to ‘account for the unaccountable’; the defeat of a regular British force by a ‘primitive’ enemy. By blaming the NNC, it shifted the responsibility onto Britain’s black allies.  Snook laments the fact that such a ‘feeble official interpretation’ was picked up on and continued by writers like Morris.  Pollard and Snook take similar paths in order to refute Morris’ claims. Pollard’s paper is a preliminary statement on an archaeological study concerning the battlefields of the Zulu War.  Being preliminary, it is Pollard’s hope that enough debris remains on the battlefield to allow for an archaeological assessment than can scientifically dispel the popular images and myths associated with the events at Isandlwana.  Based on a similar archaeological study of the Little Big Horn battlefield in Montana, the investigation was able to draw certain conclusions, such as the ammunition shortage being a myth.  According to the report, there was ample evidence of a constant supply of ammunition reaching the infantry throughout the battle.  Snook’s How Can Man Die Better treats the battle like a cold case investigation. He attempts to reconstruct the battle using ‘military logic and a professional soldier’s eye for ground’ to allow for his contentions to carry weight.  His companion piece, Like Wolves on the Fold, that deals with the battle of Rorke’s Drift, fought roughly 10 miles from Isandlwana later on the same day, also contains further thoughts on the earlier battle. It is Snook’s opinion that ten companies of regular infantry would have been needed to defend the camp.  Clery had established the camp at Isandlwana, spanning some half a mile in length from the foot of the hill, under the impression that twelve companies would be available to defend it.  Once Chelmsford made off from the camp, leaving just six companies behind, a fatal flaw had been exposed, in Snook’s mind. What becomes increasingly apparent when delving into the historiography of the battle of Isandlwana is the hugely Anglocentric nature of much of the scholarship, despite claims that the historiography of the war was complete by 2006.  In order to gain a more complete understanding of how the Zulus were able to triumph over their invaders, it is necessary to examine the evolution of Zulu society and its development into a devastating military force.

Even by the time of its last king, Cetshwayo, the Zulu kingdom remained the most politically sophisticated and militarily powerful black state in southern Africa.  Prior to this, small and scattered tribes, split over loyalty to various sons of tribal leaders, littered Southeast Africa from the sixteenth century.  When disputes between tribes arose, a meeting would be arranged whereby these issues would be resolved by combat.  Lining up 100 yards apart, rival warriors would hurl insults and then their spears at each other until one side decided to flee.  Wounds suffered in this type of combat were seldom fatal and casualties low. It was prisoners, that could be ransomed, and goods, particularly cattle, that were the main spoils of war.  One tribal leader, Dingiswayo, was able to defeat over thirty rival tribes using this style of fighting by simply increasing organisational efficiency, such as arranging his men into regiments.  

It was, however, Shaka, an officer in Dingiswayo’s army, that became the catalyst for changing the way that battles were fought.  Shifting from ritual shows of force that generally decided little, Shaka implemented wars of annihilation, with survivors of the defeated force incorporated into their victor’s military.  His method of doing this centred on a radical change to the weaponry and tactics used on the battlefield. Around 1810, Shaka invented the short, broad-bladed stabbing spear to replace the javelin.  This new weapon would be called the assegai or iklwa, supposedly due to the noise it made when withdrawn from a body.  To increase mobility, which would be fundamental to the success of his new tactics, Shaka also discarded his sandals.  Known as the izimpondo zankomo, or the horns of the buffalo, Shaka’s tactics used four distinct sections to carry out an elaborate envelopment manoeuvre.  While Dingiswayo refused to adopt this new tactic, due to the higher casualties it would bring, he assisted Shaka in becoming a chief in his own right.  By diplomacy and military conquest, Shaka subdued huge swathes of land, creating a powerful kingdom that incorporated 250,000 people.  As the methods of fighting changed, from ‘battles of subjugation’ to ‘battles of conquest’, so too did the mindset of the Zulu army.  Shaka had successfully implanted an aggressive approach into the army, that sought out its enemy and destroyed it. As the young men gathered in the countryside following the British invasion, their desire to carry out this aggressive approach would be key to its continued use.  And it would be this way of fighting that fatally undermined the British troops at Isandlwana.

If the effectiveness of the horns of the buffalo had led to the demise of the garrison at Isandlwana, less effective was the Zulus’ use of firearms. Firearms were first encountered by the Zulus in the late 1820s. Visitors to Zululand spoke of having discussions with both Shaka and his successor, Dingane, about the merits of Zulu and European arms, and methods of combating an enemy armed with guns.  Even though Shaka backed conventional Zulu tactics against guns, believing that even against volley firing, Zulu numbers could cope with the losses sustained, by the time of the war in 1879, it was estimated that the Zulus possessed around 8,000 firearms.  This refusal to divert from traditional tactics was exposed in 1838 when they clashed with Voortrekkers at Blood River.  This battle against the Voortrekkers, Boers journeying from the Eastern Cape in search of new land, demonstrated the power of muzzle-loading muskets and the effectiveness of a defensive laager.  Despite being given a first-hand exhibition of the capabilities of firearms, when engaging British troops the Zulus did not alter their tactics in order to make the most out of their guns.  It is argued that the largely obsolete weapons possessed by the Zulus may have been a contributing factor in this.  Coupled with this, there may have been an element of conservatism from within the Zulu hierarchy, such as Mnyamana kaNgyengelele’s desire to adhere to traditional ways of dealing with the British invasion.  This inability to further evolve their battle tactics, having previously done so when changing from ‘duelling battles’ to Shaka’s ‘battles of conquest’, meant that victory at Isandlwana came at a cost, and one that was much too high to be maintained over the course of the whole war.  As many as 2,000 warriors died at Isandlwana, while wounded men dragged themselves off to die elsewhere.  On hearing of such heavy losses, Cetshwayo said, ‘an assegai has been thrust into the belly of the nation’.  It was, though, a wound that healed with time. The distress experienced by the Zulu people during the British Invasion had been so all-encompassing that it engendered a renewed sense of national consciousness, pride and unity.

It was Britain’s attempts at creating a different kind of unity that eventually led to war. The confederation policy that had been employed in Canada was seen as the solution to security issues in South Africa. Under this system, the disparate states, being Boer, African and British, would be amalgamated into one unified British entity.  It was Frere’s belief that Cape security was reliant on the foundation of a Pax Britannica, as Britain was sucked further into the interior in order to try and control food supplies. Doing this was pivotal to controlling the sea route to India, which in turn was achieved by controlling ports such as Cape Town and Durban.  A properly conducted war with the Zulus would remove a major threat to Cape security, according to Frere. Defeating them in battle was, to Frere, ‘the only practical tactic’.  

Justification for invading Zululand had been achieved by the deliberately inflammatory ultimatum issued to Cetshwayo.  Frere’s ‘strong hand’ would then be enforced by Lord Chelmsford and nearly 18,000 men.  Of this force, only 5,746 were British regulars.  In spite of this, the British still expected their firepower to prevail, providing the Zulus did not get near enough to engage at close quarters.  While Chelmsford felt that the Zulus could be dealt with in a similar manner to the Xhosas, the bulk of his force did not have the same level of training as the regulars.  Captain (occasionally recorded as Lieutenant) Walter Stafford, of the NNC, recounted how an African non-commissioned officer had approached him to ask how to adjust the sight on his rifle. This was done with the battle unfolding around them and the Zulus a mere 800 yards away, showing how ill prepared and poorly trained the NNC was.  Some NNC men had little difficulty adjusting their sights, such as Durnford’s mounted Basutos, yet during the battle Durnford was pressed into service clearing jammed carbines. This must also tell of a lack of training, given that an officer with only one functioning arm was more capable of clearing stoppages.  The bulk of the NNC troops carried assegais and cowhide shields, meaning the faith of British commanders mostly rested on their infantry and its use of the Martini-Henry rifle.  A powerful weapon, a round could travel through one man with enough force to kill another stood behind, it was liable, due to its high rate of fire, to become jammed after prolonged use.  It may well have been the unique circumstances at Isandlwana further negated the advantages of what was an excellent rifle for the time.  These circumstances may have included the terrain of the battlefield, the speed of the Zulu attack, and even the ballistic properties of the Martini-Henry bullet.  

If the belief placed in the men and materiel by an expectant colonial administration was perhaps overstated, their deployment in the subsequent invasion may have further reduced their effectiveness. Chelmsford’s Regulations for Field Forces in South Africa, 1878 made it clear that camps were to be entrenched. Yet several factors played a part in this task being overlooked at Isandlwana.  Given the fact that these instructions had been somewhat open to interpretation, and that fortification building was rather irregularly carried out on the Cape frontier, it was not particularly surprising to see no defensive precautions taken at Isandlwana, it being merely a temporary site rather than a long-term base.  The hard, stony ground also made it difficult in any case to dig into. This would not have totally prevented the building of extemporised stone sangars, akin to those made elsewhere in Zululand by other elements of the invasion force.  Perhaps the scale of such fortifications needed to protect the camp was the ultimate factor. A trench around a thousand meters across the front of the camp alone would have been an arduous undertaking, particularly for a temporary camp.  Another factor, put forward by Ian Knight, was that Chelmsford’s hubristic arrogance meant that the camp was not fortified, because he did not believe the Zulus to be capable of attacking it.  It is possible that a barrier between the British troops and the Zulus may well have changed the outcome of the battle, in the way that it had for the Voortrekkers at Blood River and for the other British troops stationed at Rorke’s Drift, however it always seemed an unlikely eventuality.

Chelmsford’s orders extended to how troops should be set up prior to engaging with the Zulus. Writing a year after the war, Harness, perhaps seeking to defend his commanding officer, stated that had the force at Isandlwana been ‘formed for defence’ as instructed by Chelmsford, then the Zulu army would have been defeated.  A copy of Chelmsford’s Instructions…for the Consideration of Officers Commanding Columns when Entering Zululand was found on Durnford’s body after the battle. They showed how ‘remarkably similar’ the British dispositions at Isandlwana had been to those suggested by Chelmsford, thus rendering Harness’ view less insightful than first thought.  Harness was also of the opinion that there had been sufficient troops left at the camp, something that Snook plainly disagrees with.  Chelmsford receives further support from other quarters. It is the opinion of some that Pulleine’s failure to strike the tents, as per standing orders, would lead Chelmsford to believe that the camp was not under serious threat.  Striking the tents was done to clear fields of fire and prevent an enemy using them as cover.  It may have been the power and control wielded by Chelmsford, alongside his ‘slipshod generalship’, that ultimately played a hugely influential role in the outcome of the battle, even when the actions of others are considered.

The defence of Rorke’s Drift provided Chelmsford with the ‘perfect smokescreen for Isandlwana’, with the thought of emphasising the heroism that had been displayed already occurring to him.  In all, eleven Victoria Crosses were awarded for the action at Rorke’s Drift.  Chelmsford was right to be worried about the fallout from the battle at Isandlwana. By early February, the press in Britain was reporting on a ‘defeat with terrible loss’, and how this loss had ‘caused the utmost consternation in the colonies’.  It was also noted that the hangover from Isandlwana reduced the élan and vigour of British troops in the field, even carrying over to the Boer Wars at the end of the nineteenth and start of the twentieth centuries.  

The desire to find a reason for such a devastating blow to Britain’s colonial prestige maintains a focus on British actions. What must also be considered is the discipline of the Zulu army. Being essentially a standing militia, rather than a professional army like Britain’s, this made the control exerted by Ntshingwayo even more impressive.  In spite of their discovery prior to being ready for battle, the Zulus showed great ‘discipline and dexterity’ across such a large force.  Even after several regiments reacted to the sight of British troops before orders were given, Ntshingwayo and his commanders were able to rearrange their formations in order to execute the horns of the buffalo.  Indeed, some regimental commanders were able to maintain order simply by the force of their personalities.  This level of control and organisation over such a massive army of nearly 25,000 troops should not be understated.

Isandlwana was a shocking piece of news to the Victorian public. Having become accustomed to straightforward colonial victories in Africa, such as those against the Ashanti and the Xhosa, the defeat of a British force by the Zulu army caused much concern to those in the colonies and back in Britain.  This is shown by the swiftness in which a Court of Enquiry was convened, and the volume of material being published almost immediately after the battle, whether that be from those who had been part of the invasion but missed the slaughter at Isandlwana, such as Lieutenant-Colonel Arthur Harness, to those connected to somebody who had been killed and wished to exonerate them from blame, as in the case of Lieutenant-Colonel Anthony Durnford. Further scholarship latched onto several soon to be debunked myths associated with the battle, such as the accessibility of ammunition boxes.  What many of the investigations into the battle attempted to do was find reasons as to why a professional, modern army equipped with the latest in military technology could be defeated by an enemy lacking such weaponry. What this Anglocentric focus fails to appreciate is the effectiveness of the Zulu military, and the way in which the development of Zulu society allowed for the rise of an army capable of defeating a European invader. Shaka’s creation of the assegai along with the use of the horns of the buffalo altered the way in which the Zulus fought.  The use of Shaka’s newly developed ideas saw ‘duelling battles’ become ‘battles of conquest’.  

With these tactics firmly embedded into Zulu military doctrine by the time of the British Invasion, they were given the perfect opportunity to demonstrate their effectiveness thanks to the decisions made by Lord Chelmsford. His preconceived ideas about how the invasion should be carried out based on previous campaigns in Africa, along with a belief in the superiority of his army’s ability to overwhelm the Zulus with firepower fatally undermined the invasion force.  Critically, the Zulus were not the Xhosa. Fearing a prolonged campaign, similar to that in the Cape, Chelmsford departed the camp at Isandlwana with half of his force in attempt to draw the Zulus into a battle, believing them to be incapable of attacking it.  This lack of regard for the martial abilities of the Zulus would be shown up within hours of Chelmsford leaving.

This paper demonstrates how the actions of both sides involved in the battle of Isandlwana were responsible for its outcome. Some of the factors could be traced back to the early nineteenth century and the impact made by antecedent individuals of influence, like Shaka.  The past also shaped British policy in southern Africa, and the mindset of those who led the invasion of Zululand. It is too simplistic to place the blame or credit at the feet of one person, however. A multi-layered, nuanced answer is required to the question of whether Isandlwana was a Zulu victory or British defeat. While much of the literature is heavily focused on British shortcomings, some are happy to clearly state that ‘it is on the whole more constructive to think of Isandlwana not as a British defeat but as a Zulu success’, however this author believes in a more pluralistic answer.  What the factors that influenced the result of the clash of arms at Isandlwana also show is how unique an outcome it was. Victory at Isandlwana cost such a high number of casualties that were too great to be sustained over the course of the entire war, and as such it must be labelled a pyrrhic victory.  Isandlwana would not be the forerunner to Adwa, but a costly setback that saw the second British Invasion eventually defeat the Zulus at Ulundi in July 1879, before capturing Cetshwayo in August.  Despite the reverse at Isandlwana, the British had restored, what would be to them, the natural order of colonial expansion.

Wow, the question is where to start?  I suppose at the beginning.  From the first paragraph you write of "British colonial expansion" and your last words talk of restoring "the natural order of colonial expansion". So it's clear that you take this attitude as a given, as the parameters within which to place your arguments.
If indeed you believe those attitudes were truly the case, have you ever considered why at the end of the Zulu War (for example), Zululand was not made part of the British Empire?  Why did it not become a crown colony or a trust territory?  Why was it not garrisoned by an army of occupation?  Why was it handed back, albeit in a pacified demilitarized state, for local Zulu chiefs to rule?  How can the term "expansionism" be applied in this case? I wonder whether you've ever read Robinson & Gallagher's 'Africa and the Victorians' and their theory of imperialism, how it applies to the Zulu War, and what you think of it.

Thanks for your reply. The question I’m looking at is less about geopolitics and colonialism more broadly, but more the way in which Isandlwana is viewed. The points you make are probably more my framing the question within the context of imperialism, expansion and the way of the world at the time and are beyond the range of my essay. It’s certainly an interesting set of questions you raise. To answer one of your questions directly, I’ve had brief interaction with R&G’s work but only fleetingly and not enough to really have an opinion on it.

Thank you for your honest answer - and a fair one.
Let me therefore focus on one aspect of Isandhlwana that you do cover. You are quite specific about the reason for Ntshingwayo's attack on the 22nd - that he saw the column leave early in the morning and decided that THIS was the day to attack. Yet nowhere is there any evidence for this. In fact all the Zulu sources give the opposite opinion: that the 23rd was the day set for the attack and that the impi was 'discovered' by the British (Raw's NNH) on the 22nd which made the attack inevitable. The level of wider generalship and strategic thinking which you ascribe to Ntshingwayo and the Zulu simply wasn't there. Why go out on a limb in this way?

Because my essay was a secondary source exercise, I’ve drawn from sources such as Lock and Quantrill, Knight, Snook and others to piece together my argument. One aspect missing from my work is sources from the Zulu perspective, but given the essay was secondary based this was likely to be the case. My formally submitted essay is fully referenced, unlike on the forum, which may answer some of your queries and I’d be happy to send you over a copy if you would like me to.

Thanks again for the honesty of your answer.  No need to send over a copy; I understand now the basis of your essay.  
One last thing for you to consider is the notion of Rorke's Drift being "the perfect smokescreen for Isandhlwana".  If you read the colonial press, and indeed contemporary personal letters, the colonists were in no doubt that the Drift's defence had saved their settlements from Zulu invasion. Ostensibly of course there had been such intention on the part of the Zulu but this was not known at the time, neither by the colonists (who as a response hurriedly barricaded their townships) nor by Chard & B coy 2/24th (who faced a stark choice).  Reading the S. African & British papers at this time certainly reflected these views.  Indeed, looking at both sets of papers in the immediate aftermath one gets the impression not of playing down the Isandhlwana defeat - exactly the opposite is true in fact.  The appearance of the list of the killed in action was enough to stun the home population.  The absence of a list of wounded in action utterly shocked it.  And yes, praise was certainly given to the RD defenders but it was felt deservedly so.  I won't go on - this was just something for you to consider for the future when you can do your own research one day with primary sources!
But well done on a comprehensive overview of the events.

Thank you for your engagement, encouragement and points for the future. All very much appreciated.

It was a pleasure. It's been a few years since I last had to read through an undergrad's essay.
I hope your interest in the period and the conflict continues beyond this particular term's course.
Good luck with your studies.