To complete the above notes about my intercourse with the Oriental princes and grandees, I will attempt to throw some light upon their private life and mental condition, points which would not be open to a foreigner in their intercourse with them, but which could not be hidden from me, the supposed Asiatic. The personality of the Oriental ruler is still more or less a curiosity in Europe; he is still gazed at and admired as something out of the common; and naturally so, for the attributes of Oriental Majesty are always extravagantly magnified, and, candidly speaking, our minds are still somewhat under the spell of the "Thousand and One Nights" stories, although current literature has here and there somewhat ruthlessly torn away the magic veil which surrounds these demigods of our imagination. Demigods they are no longer to their own subjects even, for their crowns have lost too many of the jewels whose brilliancy dazzled the eyes of the beholders, and the source is dry which furnished the means wherewith the faithfulness and loyalty of their subjects could be secured. I have been on intimate terms with two Sultans, two Shahs, and several Khans; I have watched them closely, and I must honestly say that I consider their position anything but an enviable one; for with a few exceptions they are more ruled over than ruling, and in spite of their apparent omnipotence, the fear with which they inspire those nearest them is not nearly so great as the fear to which they themselves are exposed in their constant anxiety about their personal safety. When late in the evening I was sitting quite alone in one of the apartments of the Yildiz Palace, and in the stillness of the night was startled by the echo of the dull, heavy step of the patrol passing close under the windows, I often thought to myself "What in all the world can compensate for such a terrible existence?" I will admit that Sultan Abdul Hamid is more anxious and timorous than many of his Oriental brother sovereigns, for his exaggerated precautions are rightly ridiculed, but from the fact that he never feels safe by day or by night, never sleeps peacefully, that with all he eats and drinks he thinks of poison, and that on all occasions and everywhere he scents danger, for such an existence the greatest power and majesty, all the glory in the world and all its submissive homage are but a poor exchange and in nowise adequate compensation for all the quaking and trembling that it involves. A quiet and peaceful life is practically impossible at an Oriental court, considering the everlasting quarrelling, intriguing, and jealousy prevailing among the servants and officials. All covet the favour of the unfortunate autocrat, each one tries to outdo the other, each one seeks the destruction of his neighbour, and when to this pandemonium are added the intrigues of the womenfolk in the harem, it is easy to see how little joy there is in the life of an Oriental despot, nay, rather how deplorable is the fate of such a monarch.
In cases where conceit has a stronger hold upon the senses, where the ruler in his diseased fancy behaves himself like a superhuman being, as, for instance, Sultan Abdul Aziz, such an one knows but little fear and in the shelter of his imaginary security manages to make his existence fairly tolerable. The story is told of this latter Sultan that during his European journey in 1867, when making a pleasure trip on the Rhine to Coblentz, he asked of those with him whether this canal had been dug for his special benefit, and when in Budapest on board one of the Danube steamers the Turkish Consul, Commandant A., a cultured officer educated in Europe, met him and saluted in European fashion, the Sultan in my presence turned to Fuad Pasha and remarked: "Why did not this rude fellow kiss my feet?" This Sultan, half mad as he was, who decorated horses, dogs, and rams, who spent many millions on useless buildings, was little troubled with anxiety and fear, up to the memorable night when he was informed of his deposition; but other despots are in constant dread of their lives. Nasreddin Shah, even in his hunting lodge in Djadjerud, never neglected to have his couch surrounded by a company of soldiers; and his son, Mozaffareddin Shah, now on the throne, keeps awake for whole nights together for fear of being attacked and murdered. Can anything be more awful?
Of late years Oriental despots have come to the conclusion that in foreign lands, among the unbelievers, they are safer, freer, and altogether happier than in their own country. Abdul Ahad, the Emir of Bokhara, visits the Russian baths of Pyatigorsk in preference to any other, and from the frequent visits of the Persian kings to Europe it is very evident that the Shehinshahs of Iran, notwithstanding their Asiatic despotism, find in the land of the Franks—whose very touch defileth, in the eyes of the Shiites—more of pleasure and recreation than they can ever enjoy at home. In Teheran when the Shah rides or drives out, two long rows of Ferrashes (attendants) precede him as already mentioned, armed with long staves, to keep the beloved subjects at a safe distance and to clear the way. Windows and doors are tightly shuttered and curtained to prevent any one from setting eyes on their lord and master; the sanctity (otherwise security) of the ruler's sublime person demands this. When the Shah comes to a European city crowds of curious Westerners receive him; he is cheered and welcomed, and the homage of the public pleases him, and makes him feel stronger and more confident than before. And then there is the courtesy he meets with at our courts; he fancies himself on equality with the powerful sovereigns of the West; all this increases his self-respect, and therein lies the special charm of his European travels.
If here in Europe we have been under the impression that the experiences gained in these visits to Western lands would be used in the interests of Western culture and for the civilising of his own land, we have been far too sanguine in our expectations, for these pleasure trips of Oriental sovereigns have never benefited their respective countries. On the contrary, they drain the land's resources. With his three journeys to Europe Nasreddin Shah has utterly ruined the finances of Persia, already in a very unsound condition. They did not lead to any profitable innovations, and it is a well-known fact that the travels of his son Mozaffareddin Shah were paid for by a Russian loan, originally intended for the economic and administrative amelioration of the land.
No, these Asiatic demigods do not lie on a bed of roses. Their life is bare and lonely, their enjoyment full of anxiety and fear, the hundreds of thousands who writhe before them in the dust and do them homage with bombastic titulations are their greatest enemies, and the worst victims of despotism are the despots themselves. Can one be surprised that I brought no rosy reminiscences from the Oriental courts?
The Struggle's End, and yet no End