Hasan attempted to fix upon me the profession of doctor, for someone had already hinted that a man and a Persian who had seen Europe and possessed a large trunk, evidently hailing from far lands, must be a doctor. With considerable skill he led the conversation round to medicine and illnesses, and involved me in a long discourse about them, and finding my opinions apparently sound, left me, to confirm the rumour.
Having dined, I found my way in the dark to beyond Tahir Beg’s portico, and found three benches arranged so as to make three sides of a square upon the roof. Upon the middle one Tahir Beg sat, silent as usual, and upon the others an equally silent company of merchants, a couple of priests, and two Turks in uniform. I was given a place by the host, and wrapping myself in my camel-hair cloak, gathered my feet under me, and added my silence to that of the others after I had received the greetings of the company and returned them one by one.
After some time a Turk who was opposite me, addressed me in his own language, asking if I had been to Constantinople, and receiving an affirmative reply, began to question me as to where I had stayed and how I had liked it. I was forced to say I had lived in Stamboul, for I feared that if I said that I had been in Pera he might wonder, and justly, what a Persian was doing in that exclusively European quarter. Fortunately my excursions to Stamboul had been frequent, and I knew it well, and he, thinking he had found in me a sympathiser, launched out upon an eulogium of that city, and cursed the fate that exiled him to the farthest corner of Kurdistan. He spoke disparagingly of Halabja at last, led to it by his comparisons of Turkey and Kurdistan, and immediately Tahir Beg awoke from his silence, and in a curt sentence asked why he had not stayed in Constantinople, which would have conduced to everybody’s comfort. Finding the atmosphere hostile, the official—a bimbashi unattached—took his leave without further conversation.
Tahir Beg then began to ask me about various places, and drifted into a political conversation, in which he discussed the Balkan and Cretan questions, showing himself remarkably well informed, indeed far more au courant with the subject than myself, who took little interest in such things. However, I could give him information upon points nearer home, upon the northern frontier, where the Turks were encroaching upon Persian territory. Great interest was evinced by all those present in the current political events, and, like most Kurds, they showed themselves more in sympathy with the Royalists than with the Popularists, whom they regarded as a number of mischievous busybodies without any talent for ruling their fellows, an opinion very true to a great extent. The feeling against the Turkish Parliament was strong enough too, for Sultan Abdul Hamid had always regarded the Kurds more mildly than his predecessors, and had done his best to bring them into touch with the semi-civilisation of Constantinople, without capturing their chiefs by treachery or imposing undue taxes. Was it not also Sultan Abdul Hamid who had given to the northern Kurds arms and ammunition, and a uniform, and called them Hamidie Cavalry, and let them loose to loot and raid where they pleased?
POLITICAL OPINIONS
The system of government by representation is repugnant to the Kurd, whose rule has always been by hereditary chiefs, in whom the ruling instinct is born, and who are undoubtedly the fittest of their race and tribe to be at its head. And if the Kurdish nomad is reckoned unfit and not sufficiently intelligent to know what is best for him, what then of the Turkish peasant, an oaf of the understanding of a cow, and as inferior to the Kurdish peasant in wits as the sloth is to the horse. Thus these Kurds argued, and argued truly, making yet a very good case for despotic government in Eastern Asiatic Turkey and Kurdistan.
While we were drinking coffee out of little Turkish cups, someone started the question of where Lady Adela would go for the summer months. There was some difficulty this year about it, for the Pasha had been kept in Sulaimania by Government affairs, and still remained there, so the necessary arrangements for moving the great household were as yet unmade.
Lady Adela generally went to a hill village in the Aoraman Mountain, or to a little place called Merivan, in Persian territory. Tahir Beg usually followed, or went to his town of Panjwin, three days’ journey from Halabja, where a great gathering of Jaf chiefs and tribes took place each year, a sort of summer conference; and the other Kurdish leaders came in numbers to spend a short time there, to hear what passed, and to keep up friendly relations with the Jafs. From Sina a large number of “Begzada,” or aristocrats, came to see Tahir Beg and talk Persian poetry; and more serious chiefs from Persian Kurdistan came too, but not to Tahir Beg, for their business was with the powerful Mahmud Pasha, who had come with the tribe to Panjwin by June.
By the time this discussion was finished, and no one the least bit more enlightened than before, it was late, and Tahir Beg rose, and by departing broke up the party, which dispersed.
Next morning Lady Adela sent for me to read some Persian to her. I found her busy with correspondence, and she handed me several letters to read to her, and at her dictation I took down several replies, correcting her Persian where it departed from the proper idiom. While thus engaged, one, Amin Effendi, was announced, and followed close upon the heels of the servant. He was a curious man to look at, for he had not the Kurdish appearance at all. A tall, broad man with a huge face, little blinking blue eyes of the colour one sees in north Germany, pale straw-coloured hair, a long, prominent, bony nose, and a smirk that apparently he could not banish from his wide mouth.