Waiting for the Barbarians is a novel by South African author J.M. Coetzee, winner of the Nobel Prize. He has taken the title from C.P. Cavafy’s poem ‘Waiting for the Barbarians’. In the world of postcolonial literature, Coetzee holds a significant place alongside writers like Salman Rushdie, Chinua Achebe, and Nadine Gordimer. In Waiting for the Barbarians, often regarded as his most powerful novel, Coetzee explores the inner workings of empire—how it defines itself through opposition to an imagined enemy: the barbarian.
The novel is set in an unnamed empire with no specific historical or geographical identities, a deliberate choice that underscores the universality of its theme. The unnamed Magistrate, who serves as the protagonist, represents the liberal conscience. At first, he follows the rules of the empire and doesn’t question its authority. But gradually, as he witnesses the inhuman treatment of the so-called barbarians, he suffers a moral crisis.
In Cavafy’s poem, the idea of the barbarians is shown to be a myth—something invented to give meaning and purpose to the actions of an empire. Similarly, in the novel, the Empire creates the idea of an exterior enemy to justify its violence and maintain its power. Coetzee shows that many civilizations might be built on false and harmful distinctions between what is considered civilised and uncivilised. In both the poem and the novel, writing is seen as a symbol of civilisation—a mark of cultural superiority. The emperor in Cavafy’s poem offers the barbarian a scroll, representing the Empire’s belief in its literate culture. Similarly, in Coetzee’s novel, the Magistrate clings to written records: censuses, rolls, ledgers, and letters.
The barbarians represent an unknown entity, a threat used by colonisers or any oppressor. The barbarians don’t exist, but the threat is used to rule over the subjects. Told through a first-person narrative, the novel restricts the reader to the Magistrate’s perspective, which is necessarily filtered, subjective, and incomplete. This limited point of view mirrors the Empire’s failure to recognise humanity. The barbarians, whether nomadic herdsmen or aboriginal fisherfolk, remain largely silent, not because they lack meaning or depth, but because their voices are never fully heard or understood. Their language is untranslated, their culture misunderstood. Their bodies are written upon rather than listened to.
For example, the body of the barbarian woman who is tortured by Colonel Joll and others becomes an object of obsessive interest for the Magistrate. His desire to read and interpret her pain reflects the Empire’s practice of controlling the bodies of its victims.
At its core, the title reflects the constructed nature of the barbarian as an enemy—a figure imagined by imperialists to justify their existence, authority, and violence. In Cavafy’s poem, an empire prepares for an attack by the barbarians, only to realise in the end that they are not coming. This leads them to wonder: What’s going to happen to us without barbarians? Those people were a kind of solution. Similarly, in Coetzee’s novel, the Empire prepares for a war against the supposed barbarian threat, which is never clearly confirmed. The enemy remains largely unseen and voiceless, raising the question of whether the barbarians actually pose a threat, or if they are a fiction created by the Empire to maintain fear and control.
The word waiting in the title is also significant. It suggests a state of suspense, anxiety, and stagnation. The Empire is not active in making peace; it waits, paralysed by its own fear. The Magistrate himself is caught in this condition, trapped between his duties to the Empire and his growing moral discomfort.
Moreover, the title points to the illusion of civilisation. The so-called barbarians may be more innocent or humane than the torturers of the Empire, yet they are branded as uncivilised. The real brutality lies within the Empire itself. Thus, the title becomes deeply ironic.