Ascension : Ascension Island Past & Present - By Emma Brewin Submitted by The Islander (Nathan Prince) 23.08.2007 (Article Archived on 06.09.2007)
One of the few land masses situated in the vast Atlantic Ocean, Ascension Island is amongst the smallest and most remote of Britain’s last remaining overseas territories.

One of the few land masses situated in the vast Atlantic Ocean, Ascension Island is amongst the smallest and most remote of Britain’s last remaining overseas territories. Whilst the Island’s isolation is notable in terms of miles on the map, from the air it is truly impressive; its volcanic cinder cones are quickly dwarfed by the expanse of blue that stretches beyond every horizon. Air travel has now reduced these trans-oceanic distances to a matter of hours, but in past centuries as seafaring began to shape the future of not only European nations but also the rest of the world, the Atlantic was criss-crossed by some of the busiest and most important trade routes. Ascension’s geographically fortuitous location explains its historical strategic significance, but the Island continues to feature albeit marginally as one of Britain’s most valued foreign assets to this day.
Located some 7° south of the equator, Ascension’s lunar terrain may initially disappoint those expecting a textbook tropical island, but who needs palm trees when the Island is scattered with reminders as to its intriguing maritime and military past? The authentically named sandy bays and volcanic peaks, such as Comfortless Cove and Breakneck Valley, provide a fascinating glimpse of this unique history, which as it happens can even boast a genuine castaway in the form of a 19th century Dutch sailor abandoned to starve to death after his conviction for ‘unnatural acts’ whilst at sea. Reportedly discovered on Ascension Day by the Portuguese in 1503 around the time that Atlantic seafaring began its long association with the slave trade, the Island at least appears to have played an honourable role in this particularly distasteful period in maritime history, primarily by functioning as a 19th century supply depot for the West Africa Squadron’s post-abolition anti-slaving patrols. Their circular lookout path cut around the summit of the highest peak, Green Mountain (859m), can still be walked, although the significant proliferation of vegetation on the hilltop since this period means the view is rarely cloudless. A permanent claim on the island was not made until 1815, when a British marine garrison was established on the site of the present capital Georgetown, in a tactical move to support Napoleon Bonaparte’s imprisonment on neighbouring St Helena, some 750 miles to the east. Their solid quayside barracks, constructed from the black lava that carpets the island, still lie long and low against the strong easterly trade winds, whilst other remnants from their lonely outpost include quayside turtle breeding ponds and the now derelict Red Lion billet on Green Mountain, which once also supported a thriving farm. In true British colonial style, every effort was made, particularly over these early years, to civilize even this far flung outpost of the empire, and although the ornamental pond complete with lilies and goldfish can still be found at the top of Green Mountain, the saltwater fountain and ‘Exiles’ club house are now sadly defunct.
The island has also seen significant activity this century; initially during the Second World War when, as a result of its constant prevailing easterlies, Ascension was chosen as the site for the single strip Wideawake airfield for use as a staging post between Brazil and Africa. Other military remnants on the Island such as the 1960’s NASA moon mission support station also indicate the key role that it has played in some other of the 20th century’s defining events. However, perhaps the most high profile use of the island came with the Falklands Conflict in the 1980’s, when the mid-Atlantic positioning of Ascension proved invaluable once again in providing a major operational base from which to support the conflict some 4,000 miles away. For a brief period, Wideawake airfield became the busiest airport in the world, handling up to 400 aircraft movements daily. The minor RAF base on the island played host to a sudden influx of military personnel that swelled the tiny population and which, long-term, brought about significant infrastructural improvements as well as various projects completed to relieve the interminability of the posting such as the lava field golf course. Yet despite continuous occupation for some 190 years the Island still only supports a small community, consisting of British and American military personnel, civilian contractors and a 70% majority Saint Helenian population. The inherently transitory nature of the population is partially down to the highly restrictive immigration policy operated by the Ascension Island Government, which denies inhabitants the right to own property and reside without contractual employment; as a result the Island has experienced little development. Like any small, isolated community, tensions between these various groups exist, mainly due to the gaping disparity in wages and privileges between the local ‘Sainties’ and the mostly Western expats. The latter still benefit from the continuing classification of Ascension as a hardship placement, despite the obvious benefit of respite from active service, the availability of long posting allowances and access to the best housing on the island. Furthermore as most residents’ employment is affiliated to the military and comes with associated perks, living costs are minimal. In comparison, ‘local’ salaries are still commonly around the £4,000 per annum mark although the cost of living- with the exception of alcohol and petrol- is similar to that of the UK. Minor issues, such as which contractors are permitted to use senior rather than junior rank facilities at the Officers’ Mess, continue to rumble on, but it is the controversy surrounding the right to abode that is causing significant concern both on Ascension and back in the UK, where concerns have been voiced that the current residency policy in fact represents a violation of the islanders’ human rights. Luckily, in the case of Ascension it seems Britain is keen to avoid a re-enactment of the widely criticised handling of Diego Garcia, the British Indian Ocean Territory island forcibly depopulated to make way for a US military base in 1973, whose native ‘Chagossian’ islanders are still fighting various appeals by the British Government against the High Court’s 2004 ruling that allowed their return. However as the current Ascension population ages, concerns have been raised about whether the Island Government’s present strategy of effectively deporting retired residents to St Helena or the UK constitutes comparable mistreatment. Within the last few years residents had been led to believe that a permanent settlement on the Island was a distinct possibility, but recently the British Government has decisively refused to legitimise a permanent settlement on the grounds of its economic unfeasibility. They now officially and emphatically deny that an indigenous Ascension population even exists, despite the presence of long-term residents and children that have been born on the Island. Rumours surrounding the relatively recent u-turn on this issue abound, including the possibility of a future island handover to the US similar to Diego Garcia, although this particular rumour has been emphatically denied in the House of Lords. Clearly, the military significance of remote overseas territories is both ongoing and also particularly pertinent to the current global climate; Kwajalein Island (Hawaii), Ascension and Diego Garcia for example each host one of the United State’s three ground-based Global Positioning System antennae. Equally, it would be naïve not to assume that Ascension also currently plays a significant role in intelligence oriented operations; indeed the numerous aerials and antennae that cover the more remote parts of the Island would suggest that its fortuitous location is coming into play once again, albeit this time probably for intra-continental communication interception and eavesdropping on anticipated future political hot spots such as Central America and Africa.
Even now, where modern travel and communications technology render location insignificant in many instances, the continuing military interest in these 30 mid-Atlantic square miles prove that strategic geography still has a role to play in modern global politics. As a result the UK government’s prioritisation of military interests over those of the Island’s civilians is perhaps a regrettable necessity. The Islanders’ affection for Ascension is understandable; its striking terrain, intriguing history and consistent political significance in such an utterly remote location, provides a truly unique combination and the sight of the twice weekly RAF Brize Norton Ascension-Falklands RAF flight taking off into the horizon provokes a sense of isolation that seems to resound through the centuries, connecting anyone ever left behind on this lonely rock. Whilst Ascension is practically no more of a home to the resident islanders than the few lucky tourists who manage to visit, the existence of a group of island-born children, currently growing up having known no other home, is posing a very real future concern for the local government. Whether this new generation will question their political status or simply accept their lot remains to be seen. As the 25th anniversary of the Falklands Conflict this year provides some degree of closure on the most recent chapter in Ascension’s history, the next instalment may only just be starting.
Emma Brewin
|