In Chapter 2, Mr. Macgregor finds himself in a tense encounter at the European Club, having earlier issued a decree commanding the club to accept a non-European member. Ellis in particular despises this command, spouting racist protests and using vulgar, anti-Black slurs to refer to Indian and Burmese people. In an example of situational irony, Mr. Macgregor objects to the use of such slurs:
He had no prejudice against Orientals; indeed, he was deeply fond of them. Provided they were given no freedom he thought them the most charming people alive.
In the above passage, an apparently contradictory statement from the narrator reveals a core truth about Mr. Macgregor's character: "provided [Indian or Burmese people] were given no freedom he thought them the most charming people alive." Mr. Macgregor only views colonized peoples as worthy of respect when they don't inconvenience him and when they behave according to his expectations. But if Indian or Burmese people achieve actual freedom from colonial rule, Mr. Macgregor would feel threatened and would no longer feel any sympathy toward them, revealing himself to be just as racist as Ellis.
Mr. Macgregor views the subjecthood of others on a sliding scale: the darker a person’s skin, the less humanity and empathy they are owed. At the moment, Macgregor views people with brown skin as quaint and “charming,” but if brown people were to protest British occupation, all their "charm" would disappear for Macgregor. He would view them the same racist way he views Black people.
In Chapter 2, Ellis delivers a virulent and racist outburst, lashing out against any non-White person or sympathizer in the immediate vicinity. In the following excerpt, Ellis takes his frustrations out on the European Club's butler—a South Indian man whom the narrator describes as a “dark, stout Dravidian”:
'Don't talk like that, damn you--"I find it very difficult!" Have you swallowed a dictionary? "Please, master, can't keeping ice cool"—that's how you ought to talk. We shall have to sack this fellow if he gets to talk English too well. I can't stick servants who talk English. D'you hear, butler?'
Ellis reprimands the butler for speaking English "too well," an ironic sentiment given that Ellis just finished insulting colonized people for lacking "education" or "civility." The butler's perfect English threatens these racist assumptions, undermining the hierarchical system Ellis relies upon to feel superior in his Whiteness. If a South Indian man can speak English perfectly—better even than Ellis himself—the foundation of Ellis’s racist beliefs cannot stand. Racial discrimination is often about more than just skin color, and the butler’s English abilities threaten more than Ellis’s personal racial identity—they threaten the very rationale and fabric of British imperialism.
In the following example of situational irony from Chapter 2, Mrs. Lackersteen complains about the laziness of "servants" while simultaneously ordering a rickshaw to travel a quarter of a mile:
Mrs Lackersteen, unequal to the quarter-mile walk between her house and the Club, had imported a rickshaw from Rangoon. Except for bullock-carts and Mr Macgregor's car it was the only wheeled vehicle in Kyauktada, for the whole district did not possess ten miles of road. [....]
'Really I think the laziness of these servants is getting too shocking,' she sighed. 'Don't you agree, Mr Macgregor?
Orwell uses passages like this one to illuminate the hypocrisy of British colonizers in Burma (Myanmar). Mrs. Lackersteen holds all non-White people to standards that she herself cannot maintain. She subjects Burmese and Indian people to greater scrutiny, quick to condemn them for laziness; meanwhile, she lacks the mental or physical fortitude to walk even a short distance. In the modern day, these hypocrisies remain: people of color are often held to loftier standards of behavior, industry, and intellect and are punished socially or fiscally when it proves impossible to meet such unrealistic expectations.
In the following example of both simile and situational irony from Chapter 4, the narrator compares Ma Hla May—John Flory’s lover-for-hire—to a cat:
She lay and let him do as he wished with her, quite passive yet pleased and faintly smiling, like a cat which allows one to stroke it. Flory's embraces meant nothing to her (Ba Pe, Ko S'la's younger brother, was secretly her lover), yet she was bitterly hurt when he neglected them.
Ma Hla May behaves capriciously in her relations with Flory, simultaneously craving his affection and disregarding it. This behavior generates irony: his embraces "means nothing to [Ma Hla May]," and yet she is "bitterly hurt" by any sign of neglect from Flory. This contradiction arises from the nature of the relationship itself, which emulates colonial power dynamics. Flory uses Ma Hla May for sex; his relationship with her is extractive, just as the British Empire has an extractive relationship with colonized peoples. This unbalanced transaction leads Ma Hla May to form her own extractive relationship with Flory as a means of survival. He uses her for sex, so she seeks out ways to milk the money and prestige he can offer her. She comes to depend on what she can extract from Flory. His neglect does not upset her because she loves him, but rather because she can no longer extract anything from him.