When, on my return from Asia, I took part in the discussion of the political questions of the day, and, as eye-witness of current events, was questioned by the leading statesmen of the day, I could not with the best will in the world have escaped entering upon a political career. Lord Palmerston gave me the first incentive by requesting me, through Sir Roderick Murchison, then President of the London Geographical Society, to draw up a memorandum. I did as I was asked, and handed in my report about the position of Russia on the Yaxartes, and the state of political affairs in Central Asia, with the necessary digressions into the regions of Persian and Turkish politics. All this was easy enough to me, for at the Porte I had been an eye-witness of the political movements. I had already been actively employed as political correspondent, and both in Teheran and in Constantinople I had constantly been in contact with the diplomatic circles. During the many interviews which Lord Palmerston granted me, he always took all my remarks jokingly, and never appeared the serious diplomatist. He told me that I looked at things through the spectacles of anti-Russian patriotic Magyarism, that Hungarians and Poles were hot-brained, and that the Thames would discharge a good deal more water before the Cossacks watered their horses at the Oxus. When, a few months after my arrival in London, the news came of the taking of Tashkend by Chernayeff, and soon after the celebrated Note of Gorchakoff was presented at Downing Street, the jocular character of the English Premier toned down somewhat. In influential political circles I was questioned more frequently about the defensive strength of the Emir of Bokhara, about the high-roads, and the public opinion of the Central Asiatics. But even then Lord Palmerston, always cheerful in spite of his advanced age, would not allow his real motives to transpire. He feigned an Olympic quietness or an icy indifference, and the only sign of interest he showed me was his encouragement to continue writing my letters to the Times, and to enlighten the English public concerning the land and the people of Central Asia.
But the press and the public in England behaved quite differently. The great majority, of course, was optimistic. The terror of the Afghan Campaign in 1842 still filled all hearts with dismay, and after the unsuccessful termination of the Crimean War they easily drifted into the Ostrich policy, said that the advance of Russia towards the frontiers of India was a chimera, and laughed at my firm and consistent assertions that there was danger threatening from the side of Russia. If I were now to publish all the newspaper articles, essays, and parliamentary speeches which appeared at the time to contradict my views, and to pacify the public in England and India, it would display indeed a sad picture of self-deception and a wilful lulling to sleep in fancied security. On my side were only a few staunch Conservatives, since this party, decidedly anti-Russian, had stood out for an energetic policy; but personally I took no notice either of the indifference of the masses or of the scorn and mockery of the optimists. The more they laughed at my ideas the more fervently and zealously did I defend them. I spared neither time nor trouble to bring forward the most striking proofs. I kept up my relations with Central Asia and Persia by constant correspondence. I read the Russian papers industriously, and so I had always an important weapon of defence at hand. The columns of the Times and the fashionable monthly and weekly periodicals were open to me, and I had little difficulty in displaying such activity in writing as would impress even my political opponents, and finally break down the indifference of the great reading public. Many looked upon me as a Magyar thirsting for revenge on Russia, others again were pleased to find in me, a foreigner, a zealous defender of British State interests; and this caused the more surprise, as such concern for foreign State interests is always a rarity, and in England, much envied and little beloved on the Continent, had never been heard of before. Had I been seeking to obtain a public appointment in England, and had I settled there, no doubt my efforts would have appeared in quite another light, and the attention and subsequent acclamation I received would doubtless have been pitched in a lower key. But since, in my humble function of professor, I abode in Hungary, and as a foreigner continued in a foreign land, without ostentation or hope of material preferment, to carry on the defence of British interests on the Continent of Europe, and even persevered in influencing public opinion in England itself, I succeeded in banishing all suspicion of self-interest, and finally in disarming even the bitterest political opponents. Amongst the few who particularly disliked my political energy was Mr. Gladstone, the zealous advocate of an Anglo-Russian alliance in Church and politics. And yet I have been told that he had remarked to a friend, "Professor Vambéry's agitation seemed at first suspicious to me, but since I have heard that he is a poor man I believe in his fanaticism." The insular separatist, the proud Englander, had in the end to submit to a foreigner mixing himself up with his national concerns, giving his unbidden opinion about Great Britain's foreign policy, and finally, by dint of perseverance, influencing public opinion in England.
Of course all this was not the work of a few weeks or months, but of a whole series of years. Between 1865 and 1885 I published a quantity of letters, articles, and essays on political and politico-economic affairs in Central Asia, Persia, and Turkey in English, German, French, Hungarian, and American periodicals, which, if collected, would make several volumes. In England it was chiefly in the Times, and sometimes in other daily papers, as also in periodicals such as the Nineteenth Century, the Fortnightly Review, the National Review, Army and Navy Gazette, the New Review, the Journal of the Society of Arts, the Asiatic Quarterly Review, the Leisure Hour, and Good Words. In Germany I wrote in the Münchener (formerly Augsburger) Allgemeine Zeitung, Unsere Zeit, Die Deutsche Rundschau, Die Deutsche Revue, Welthandel, and in a few other daily and monthly papers, long since discontinued. In Austro-Hungary I often wrote in the Pester Lloyd, but only seldom in the Neue Freie Presse and in the Monatschrift für den Orient, while in France I contributed to the Revue des deux Mondes, and in America to the Forum and the North American Review. Only when the Central Asiatic question became acute—as, for instance, on the occasion of the taking of Samarkand in 1868, the campaign against Khiva in 1873, the conquest of Khokand in 1876, and the Pendjdeh affair—was my pen in actual request. For the rest I had to force myself upon the public, and not only on the Continent, but in England also, I often had difficulty in getting a hearing. As long as the Russians had not so far consolidated their power that it was dangerous for foreign travellers to be admitted in the conquered districts I was able to maintain myself as chief and only authority on Central Asiatic affairs. Later I had gradually to relinquish this privilege. The number of writers versed in Central Asiatic concerns constantly increased, but my knowledge of the Oriental and Russian languages, and also my prolonged and intimate acquaintance with the theme, always gave me a certain amount of advantage over my literary competitors. From time to time, when the Central Asiatic question came to the foreground, I entered the arena with larger, more substantial essays. Thus, for instance, my Power of Russia in Asia, which appeared in German and Hungarian, depicted the gradual progress of the Russian conquests in Asia. As foundation for my article I used MacNeil's The Progress and Present Position of Russia in the East, which appeared at the time of the Crimean War. This I elaborated with new facts and data. Like my predecessor, I preached then (1871) to deaf ears. People troubled themselves very little about Russia's Asiatic politics. They called me a blinded Russophobe, and now—since the Northern Colossus has thrown his polyp-like arm over the half of Asia, and is looked upon as the peace-breaker of the Western world—when I remember the scornful laughter of the great politicians, I cannot help thinking what a pity it was that timely precautions were not taken to ward off the coming danger, and that people did not realise that the power gained in Asia might one day stand Russia in good stead in its dealings with Europe.
The second independent book about political matters which I brought out was entitled, Central Asia and the Anglo-Russian Frontier Question, published in English and German. It was, correctly speaking, a collection of my different political articles published in various periodicals. This book, coming out at the time of the Khiva campaign, when people showed a much keener interest in what took place in the inner Asiatic world, found a good sale, and although not of much material advantage to me, gave me a good deal of moral encouragement.
Of great effect was my article about The Coming Struggle for India, published in 1885, at the time when the question of the rivalry between the two Colossi in Asia had reached a seething-point, and after the affair at Pendjdeh nearly involved England and Russia in a war. This booklet, which I wrote in twenty days, and issued simultaneously in English, French, German, Swedish, and Guzerati (East Indian language), caused a great sensation far beyond its intrinsic worth. It proved also a lucrative speculation.
The Coming Struggle for India, which was the English title of the book, brought me quite a stream of commendatory grateful letters from England, America, and Australia; I was eulogised as a prophet, and held up as an English patriot whose merits would never be forgotten nor too highly thought of in Albion. On this occasion I also received some less flattering communications from English Socialists and Anarchists, who in the first place reproached me with interfering in the affairs of their country, and in the second place endeavoured to prove how unjust and inhuman it was for England to waste life and money on the civilising and conquest of foreign nations, while at home hundreds of thousands of their compatriots were perishing of poverty and distress. The colonial policy enriches the aristocrats who revel in luxury, while the labourer, oppressed by the capitalist, is left to starve. Thus complained one of my unbidden correspondents.
The middle classes and the aristocracy of England thought differently, however. Regardless of all scornful and derisive remarks I had now for twenty years pursued my political campaign with unremitting zeal, and had always had the interest of England at heart. Many, therefore, looked upon me as a true friend, and although I was stamped by some as a fanatic, an Anglomaniac, or even a fool, the majority saw in me a writer who honestly deserved the respect and recognition of the country; a man who in spite of his foreign extraction should be honoured as a promoter of Great Britain's might and power. Cold, proud, and reserved as the Britisher generally appears before strangers, I must confess that at my public appearances both in London and in the provinces I have always been received with the utmost cordiality and warmth.
Many were struck with the pro-English spirit of my writings, and I have frequently been asked how it was that I, far from the scene of action, was often more quickly and better informed about current events than the English Government which had Embassies and secret agencies at its disposal. The reason is clear enough. In the first place I had personal experiences at my disposal, and, supported by my correspondents in the Far East, many of my views have thus in course of time been justified by events. Secondly, I had paid far greater attention to the communications of the Russian press than the politicians in England, where the Russian language was not much known yet. I was surprised myself to find that my political activity was even discussed in the English Parliament and led to interpellations. On the 22nd of May, 1870, Mr. Eastwick asked the Government: "Whether there was any truth in the rumours, mentioned in Mr. Vambéry's letter published in the Times on the 18th of this month, that Herat had been taken by Yakub Khan?" Lord Enfield, then Secretary of State, denied my statement; nevertheless I was right, for Herat was actually in the hands of the rebel son of Shir Ali Khan. On the 3rd of June, 1875, Mr. Hanbury asked the Minister of Foreign Affairs, "Whether his (the minister's) attention had been called to a letter of Mr. Vambéry's in the Times of the 2nd of June relating to a new Russian expedition to hitherto unknown districts of the Upper Oxus; whether the purpose of the expedition had been communicated to the English Government, and whether, as stated by Mr. Vambéry, the diplomatist, Mr. Weinberg, was a member of the expedition, and whether it was of a political as well as of a scientific character?" To this Mr. Bourke, then Secretary of State, replied in Parliament: "That he had read Mr. Vambéry's letter with great interest, but that Government had not yet received any information regarding the matter therein mentioned." Again I was on the right side and had the priority in point of information; thus naturally the weight of my writings continually increased.
Without desiring or seeking it I was acknowledged in England as the Asiatic politician and the staunch friend of the realm. Year after year I received invitations to give lectures about the present and the future condition of England in Asia, and when, tired of writing, I longed for a little change and recreation, I travelled to England, where in various towns—London, Manchester, Birmingham, Bradford, Sheffield, Leeds, Edinburgh, Glasgow, &c.—I gave lectures for a modest honorarium. On these occasions I drew the attention of the public to their commercial and political interests in the Orient, and urged them to exercise their civilising influence over Asia. Foreigners who for years together concern themselves about the weal or woe of a land not their own belong certainly to the rarities, and consequently I was received everywhere in England with open arms and made much of by all classes of society.
This was very patent during the critical time in the spring of 1885, and the ovations I received in London and other towns of the United Kingdom I shall never forget. On the 2nd of May I gave a lecture in the great hall of Exeter Hall about the importance of Herat. On my arrival I found the house full to overflowing with a very select audience. Lord Houghton, who presided at this meeting, thanked me in the name of the nation, and the next day almost all the newspapers had leading articles about the services I had rendered, and the resoluteness with which I always met the woeful optimism and blunders of leading politicians led astray by party spirit.