That Eurasian

by Aleph Bey

I accept what the noble Lord Tennyson has said, “I am Calvinist enough to have a willingness to be damned for the glory of God, but I am not willing to be damned to satisfy the hatred, pride and hypocrisy of men no better than I am.”

One morning one of the headmen of my villages came to my house in a great state of excitement. It appeared that an ofiun walla sahib had come into the district and had sent his police to take away a number of the cultivators. To understand the matter myself, I went without any delay, and found that some of the best men had been taken, for what purpose the people did not know. I went several miles further, where I found a large tent under a tree. In front, at a table, sat a European surrounded by a number of policemen. Before him were several hundred natives seated in rows upon the ground. I sent my card and asked for an interview, which was granted. I explained who I was, that I was the owner of some villages, that as some of my ryots had been taken I had come to make inquiries. He replied that he was the agent of the Opium Department, and had been ordered by Government to come into the district and arrange for the cultivation of opium. He said it would be a good thing for the people, as he would make contracts and give advances on the crop. I made no objection to his statements, knowing well the absolute and despotic power of a Government officer, and that any argument in opposition from me would defeat my purpose; that it was the best policy for me to be as docile as possible. I wished to get my people released, and I well knew that if I showed any fight he would exercise his power and I would inevitably be defeated. The Hindu proverb is a good one. “Soft words are better than harsh; the sea is attracted by the cool moon, and not by the hot sun.”

After hearing all his statements, I replied that I was trying some experiments with new kinds of seeds, in the rotation of crops, deep ploughing, and in the introduction of imported cattle, and that it would greatly interfere with my plans if the people were diverted from them. He at first demurred, because his men had told him that there was very rich land in the villages best suited for opium; that he would like also to experiment in his line. This he said with a smile, as if taking me on my own ground, that a few patches of poppy would not interfere with my purposes. I then went on my knees, metaphorically speaking, and begged him as a special favor that he would grant my request. My earnest pleading as a suppliant must have touched him, for he at once said, “Mr. Japhet, as a special favor, under the circumstances you have stated, I will release your men, though it may make discontent among the people of other villages.” He then gave an order for my ryots to be called, and they went away greatly relieved, and as they afterwards told me, were very grateful for what I had done. After thanking the officer for his kindness, I took my departure.

I have often thought of this incident, and to tell the truth, have been ashamed of my cringing attitude in order to carry out my purpose. But what else could I have done? When one, unarmed, meets a brigand who points a pistol at his breast, even the bravest of men will deem it best to surrender and deliver the contents of his pockets, expressing thanks to his assailant for his courtesy in not discharging his weapon. It is very easy to talk about courage when there is no danger in front of you.

The natives of India are accused of being cringing and truculent, of being invariable liars and deceivers. How could they be anything else? They have been subjects of tyranny and deception for a thousand years or more, when not only their little property, but their lives, were at the absolute disposal of their rulers and the robber minions of Government, so they have become inevitably what they are.

As I left the presence of the Sahib and had reached the road, a rather elderly Hindu of fine appearance threw himself on his knees in front of me, and putting his arms around my legs, he touched his forehead upon my boots several times. This was done so quickly that I had not time to check him. Then lifting up his head and still on his knees, he held up a paper in one hand and five rupees in the other. He said that the ofiun walla sahib had made him sign a contract by which he was to cultivate a certain amount of land for opium, and had given him five rupees as an advance on the crop. He said that it was contrary to his religion, against his caste and his dastur or custom to raise opium; that he wanted to raise food for his bal batchas, children, and begged of me to intercede with the sahib and get his contract annulled. He pleaded most piteously. I lifted him up and talked with him. I told him that the sahib was a Government officer, while I was only a zemindar, and that if I went to him he might become angry and double the contract. I certainly was disposed to help him, but I knew that if I interceded for him I would have hundreds of others at my feet, and there would be no end of a hullabaloo, and the sahib would have his own way in the end and make it even worse for the people. “Why awaken sleeping leopards?” “It is no use to sharpen thorns,” are common Hindu proverbs.

I learned afterwards that numbers went to the Collector of the District, who was as much of an autocrat and a despot in his way as was the other. He always resented any one foraging in his pasture. He wrote an indignant letter to the opium agent, and the latter replied that if the collector would attend to his own business he might find enough to do.

Such was the commencement of opium growing in that district. There were about a million people in the district, and I doubt if any one of them had ever seen a poppy head until it was raised under the forced contracts of the opium agent. I was well acquainted with the district, had traveled everywhere in it, and had never seen a sign of opium either among the people or in the fields; and I question if there ever had been an ounce of opium used unless in medicine given by the doctors. The people did not want it in any shape, either for use or cultivation.

Why then was its cultivation forced upon these heathen, as Christians delight to call them? Simply and solely for revenue, for the money there was in it. The contracts were of the strictest kind, and the slightest violation of them would make a man a criminal. The plots of land were measured and recorded, the methods of preparing the soil, the time of sowing the seed, the collection of the juice and the saving of the refuse, were all minutely detailed. Every particle of the plant worth anything had to be delivered to Government under pain of fine and imprisonment, and for all his labor and anxiety the ryot got only a pittance, while the Government received a profit of nine hundred per cent. No one ever raised opium under these contracts but at a loss compared with what he could have received from his usual crops.

There was no local market for the opium when produced. Probably not a pound a year would have been purchased by the inhabitants if left to themselves. In order to facilitate the use of a drug of which the people were happily ignorant and did not want, the Government licensed men in different places to sell it, and even then there were no sales. To begin the trade these licensees were then ordered to give away samples, and so by degrees the people were educated in the opium habit. In a few years quite a number became confirmed opium users, and the evil, like the virus of a disease inoculated in the blood, spread over the district with its usual demoralizing effect.