Europe may elect to keep herself blind to such considerations, whether of a commercial or political nature. The question then arises, what are the interests of Great Britain, and upon what lines should her policy be shaped?
In the discussion of all such questions it is a principle of no small value to ascertain not the opinions of statesmen and diplomatists, but those of the proverbial man in the street. Of the former, few, indeed, are at the present day possessed even of an elementary knowledge of such-like Asiatic problems. Layard and Rawlinson have both been long removed from the stage of politics; and these eminent men and stately figures with their Western culture and Eastern sympathies have both already passed from our midst. We can none of us be specialists on each and every question; and it is with a feeling of deep respect that those among us who have, perhaps, acquired some small knowledge of a particular problem, should endeavour to select among their friends those possessed of the divine average, and use them as foolometers—the gauge of common sentiment.
Several different kinds of opinion will be registered. “It is very sad, those poor Armenians; but we are not knight-errants, and there are hard blows going about.”... “Why can’t we leave the Turks alone—they are in possession. Turkey belongs to the Turks and China to the Chinese.”... “So we are to hark back to the miserable policy of bolstering up the Turks! Let them go bag and baggage to the quickest possible perdition; and, if Russia will do the work and remove the nuisance, so much the better for us and the whole world.”... “We can’t expect to have a finger in everybody’s pie. We have already more than we can manage on our hands.” The one conclusion which you may draw from these conflicting utterances is that the balance of common sentiment is, perhaps, in favour of standing aside.
In England the actions of Governments are based on common sentiment. There is no Government in the sense of an enlightened administration, with a reasoned foreign policy and what the French would call a politique de longue vue et de longue haleine. Even our great Indian Empire is ruled on principles which, so far as they relate to external affairs, are little better than the proverbial methods of the ostrich. What Indian Foreign Secretary is even conversant with the affairs of Persia, his next-door neighbour, as one might say? The Indian Government are at the present day sensible of great constriction in their finances, and what are the methods which they pursue? In every direction they draw in their horns, saving a few pounds here and a few there, and pointing with pride to the forcible retirement of a pair or two of distinguished teachers in a great educational establishment. What vigilance and strict economy! But business, at least in the City, is not as a rule conducted by the clerks. There our suspicions are excited by such pettifogging manœuvres, and we keep our eyes open in expectation of the inevitable failure, not less certain than in the case of inflation and extravagance.
At home widespread prosperity, a long start in the industrial race and the complexity of our world-wide transactions have grown like weeds and flowers around the margin of a salubrious well, screening the view and almost the sound of the life-giving waters. We forget the commercial basis of all our wealth and power; and few among us are sensible of a thrill if some vast province of the Chinese Empire be walled round against our trade. Yet foreign commerce is the most delicate of national activities, slow, shy, easily disturbed and swiftly killed. The essential peacefulness of its methods, and the fact that few of the homes it helps to support are even aware of the destination of the goods they contribute to produce—such characteristics are little calculated to compete with the clamour of other interests, such as gold-mines, colonies, pan-Germandom or pan-Saxondom, or any other of the popular cries of the day.
The spirit of adventure lying at the foundation of the British character has been enlisted into African enterprise. One cannot help admiring the undoubted ability with which the organisers of the movement towards South Africa have at once appealed to the imagination of the British people, and won over to their side by careful preparation both the elements in the body politic capable of exercising quiet pressure and the recognised mouthpieces of public opinion. The prettiest women, the most ancient titles have all their share in the movement; and a Press, which cannot be bought, has been successfully persuaded of the excellence of the cause which in full chorus they uphold and applaud. On the Continent similar methods have been pursued by our Boer adversaries; and the result has been a war in print and a war in feeling with our neighbours in Europe of far greater moment than the African battles we have won or lost. For such outbursts, produced by a clever imitation of South African methods, or, perhaps, by spontaneous appreciation on the part of the Boers of the new-born forces of advertisement on a huge scale, the organisers in England can scarcely be held responsible. They have done their work well, however we may judge its effect on character; and we cannot blame them if, absorbed in their own particular problem, they have at the same time thrown cold water on all questions concerning Asia. The prudence of our people, once committed to an important struggle, has also been a factor on their side.
But Africa, this Syracuse of modern Europe, will not always, let us hope, be at our doors. The moment our hands are free I trust they may be directed to the disentangling of some Asiatic knots. Now the interests of Great Britain, under which we may include those of British India, are, I think there can be no doubt, most intimately bound up with the Asiatic provinces of the Ottoman Empire. Starting from the base of the Persian Gulf we have built up by laborious methods, extending over a period of getting on for a century, a commercial system which reaches far into the interior of Mesopotamia and embraces the whole of Southern Persia. At the same time we have erected that northern trade-route of which I have spoken, giving access to our goods from the coast of the Black Sea to the markets of Northern Persia.
What a long and patient struggle in face of almost overwhelming difficulties has been successfully conducted and inch by inch pursued by these various enterprises! With them are associated the names of Brant in the north and of Chesney and Lynch in the south. The correspondence of Consul Brant with his distinguished chief, Stratford Canning, will, I trust, be some day given to the world.[23] It displays on its face a union of ideas with the much rarer capacity of translating them into practice by unwearying attention to the minutest details, which, whether the quality may have been inspired by the ambassador or his able subordinate, reflects lustre upon both names. It serves to remind us that the Russian policy of building walls round their possessions is not a policy of recent date. We may regard with legitimate pride the readiness of our ancestors to take advantage of the throwing open of the Black Sea and of the facilities offered by the introduction of steam power; the old land-routes through Asia Minor were rapidly superseded, and a new commercial avenue between Trebizond and the interior of Persia was gradually opened up by a series of patient efforts which would have done credit to the Genoese.
In the south the expeditions of Chesney (1835–37)[24] and of Lynch (1837 and following years) were directed to the survey of the rivers Euphrates and Tigris and of the countries through which they flow. The former took his vessels in pieces from the coast of Syria to the Euphrates, while those of the latter—the Nitocris, Assyria and Nimrod—were conveyed by sea to the estuary of the Shat-el-Arab. The labours of these pioneers were thrown away by the British Government, and the project of an overland route from the Mediterranean to India somewhat suffered from the undertaking of the Suez Canal (1860 and following years). It is certain to be revived. On the purely commercial side something was saved by individuals; and, starting from the knowledge acquired by the two eminent explorers, a trade with an annual value at the present day of about a million sterling has little by little been built up. It is carried by river steamers, which also convey the British mails, from the Persian Gulf to Baghdad. These steamers have to contend with a variety of disabilities imposed by the Turkish Government. Their voyages are confined to the Tigris; the Euphrates is kept closed, and they are not suffered to proceed a mile above Baghdad. But the magnificent country through which they pass is growing in wealth through the facilities they provide; and the force of circumstances will sooner or later open wide the doors.
Of even earlier date are our trade-routes from the Gulf seaboard to the tableland of Persia. Indeed it may be said without exaggeration that from Kirmanshah on the north to Beluchistan upon the south the zone of mountains which support that tableland are threaded by a number of arteries, diffusing over the vast body of the Iranian highlands the life-blood of reciprocal commerce. Such facts have not escaped the notice and solicitude of competent observers; but it seems to me that their logical bearing upon the problems of the Nearer Asia has not been examined with sufficient thoroughness. There can be little doubt that the acquisition by Russia of a port on the Persian Gulf would not be tolerated by any British Government.[25] Apart from all considerations of a commercial nature, it would imply the necessity of maintaining a powerful fleet in the Gulf, with additional strain on the finances of India. But what if the northern Power were to occupy Turkish Armenia? Would it merely entail the loss of our northern trade-route? I should like to examine in a temperate spirit the possibilities of such a hypothesis, not fearing to look them in the face, but endeavouring to divest my remarks of any alarmist or sensational character.