The Last Boer War

by H. Rider Haggard

Thus things fell back into their former courses, the old abuses flourished like bay trees, the lucky holders of dynamite and other monopolies grew fabulously rich, and—so powerful is the love of gold—auri sacra fames—so much more do men value it than freedom and pure government—the population of Johannesburg still increased.

More than two years have gone by since Sir Alfred Milner was sent as High Commissioner to South Africa, during all which time, backed by her Majesty's present Government, he has been doing his best to secure redress for the Uitlanders, and to arrange various differences that have arisen between the Empire and the Transvaal Republic. At length these efforts resulted in the meeting between himself and President Kruger, known as the Bloemfontein Conference, which took place about four months ago. At that Conference Sir Alfred Milner advanced the request, modest enough seeing that they are entitled to nothing less than equal rights with the other "inhabitants of the Transvaal," that those Uitlanders who wished to adopt the country as their home should be entitled to the franchise after five years' residence. This was refused by President Kruger as endangering the independence of the State, and the Conference broke up. It was from this time forward that war came to be looked upon as probable. In reply to various despatches and representations of the Imperial Government, the President and Volksraad made certain offers of a franchise which, if they were ever seriously meant, were hampered with provisos, such as rendered them impossible for this country to accept. Thus the five years' offer of August 19 was coupled with the conditions that in the future there should be no interference in the internal affairs of the Republic, that her Majesty's Government would not further insist on the assertion of the suzerainty, and that the principle of arbitration in the event of future differences arising should be admitted.

Had the Government agreed to these terms it would have meant, of course, that the last shadow of the Queen's authority would have vanished from the Transvaal, and as they had bound themselves not to interfere in future, that they might be forced to look on while the franchise which was granted one year was repealed or rendered nugatory the next. Also, it must be remembered that this question of the franchise does not cover all the grounds of difference between the two parties; indeed, it seems that a great deal too much importance has been given to the matter. Even if a certain number of Uitlanders elected to become citizens of a Boer state, it is difficult to see, however advantageous that circumstance might prove to themselves, in what way it would directly assist the Imperial power on such a question, let us say, as the treatment of our Indian subjects settled in the Transvaal. To begin with, the new-born burghers might be indifferent to the needs and wishes of the country they had renounced. They might even consider that their oath of allegiance bound them to oppose those wishes. At the least, even if they had the power to help us, which could not be the case for many years, surely it would be neither wise nor dignified for the power to which they once belonged to trust solely to their good offices.

In the newspapers and elsewhere Johannesburg and its Uitlanders are spoken of continually as though they made up the sum of the situation. It is the common cry of Liberal Forwards and of those gentlemen who might perhaps be called Radical Backwards, that this war is to be waged for the Uitlander and the millionaire. Of course this is not in the least true. The Uitlander, with his woes, is only the blister that has brought the sore of Transvaal misrule and Dutch ambitions in South Africa to so proud a head, that at last the South African Republic has come to describe itself as "a Sovereign independent State." That he and his "Magnates," as Rand millionaires are called, will profit enormously from a successful war waged by the Imperial Power is admitted; but because the effect of such a struggle will be ultimately to put a number of annual millions into certain pockets, it does not follow that the war is fought for that purpose. Indeed the veriest "jingo" could scarcely show himself self-sacrificing and altruistic. This is no local but an Imperial question to be decided in the interests of the Empire.

To return to the course of the negotiations. Offers, withdrawals, stipulations, palliative clauses, proposals for further conferences followed each other in bewildering variety, till at length, worn out, Mr. Chamberlain, on September 22, intimated to the Government of the South African Republic, through Sir Alfred Milner, that it was "useless to further pursue a discussion on the lines hitherto followed, and her Majesty's Government are now compelled to consider the situation afresh, and to formulate their own proposals for a final settlement of the issues which have been created in South Africa by the policy constantly followed for many years by the Government of the South African Republic. They will communicate to you the result of their deliberations in a later despatch."

It is rumoured that this later despatch has been delivered at Pretoria, but has as yet received no reply. Three days later, however, namely, on September 25, that industrious body, the Liberal Forwards, was honoured with a telegram from the State Secretary of the Transvaal, which runs as follows:—

"Liberal Forwards, London. Many thanks for your telegram. We stick to the Convention, and rely upon England doing the same, as Convention does not allow interference in internal affairs."

When, however, it is remembered that the Convention did allow equal rights to all the "inhabitants of the Transvaal," it will be admitted that this cable is about the strangest of the remarkable series of State documents which of late have emanated from Pretoria. Very aptly it crystallises the spirit of Boer diplomacy—a bold disregard of inconvenient facts.

Meanwhile in South Africa various events of importance have happened. The Orange Free State has openly thrown in its lot with the Transvaal. The Uitlanders have fled by thousands from Johannesburg. The Boers have massed their commandos at various points on the Natal and other British borders, presumably for offensive purposes, since at present they can expect no invasion of their territory. The first of these occurrences reveals the hidden purpose of the Dutch party in South Africa, as at night a sudden flash of lightning reveals the face of the veld. We have never threatened the Orange Free State; it has no grievance, no cause of quarrel, yet suddenly it appears in arms against us. Why? Because its citizens believe that the time has come to translate into action the old dream of the Boers, which so long as five-and-twenty years ago was familiar to the late President Burgers when he spoke of the coming Dutch Republic, with its eight millions of inhabitants ruling supreme in the vast territories between the Zambezi and the Cape. Now the great conspiracy that it has proved so hard to persuade the British public, or a blind section of it, to credit stands unveiled, and it has for object nothing less than the expulsion of the English power from Southern Africa—a vain thing fondly imagined, but still a thing with which we must reckon, and it is to be feared by the last stern expedient of arms, since here soft words and diplomacy are of no avail.

Difficult as it is to make the fact understood among a proportion of the home electorate and publicists, it cannot be stated too often or too clearly that this war, which is to come, is a war that was forced upon us by the Boers in their blind ignorance and conceit. The mass of them believe, because they defeated our troops in various small affairs in 1881, that they are a match for the British Empire. Their leaders are better instructed. They trust not so much, perhaps, to the rifles of their compatriots as to the prowess of certain party captains in England, and to the enthusiasm of their advocates among the English Press and public. They remember that the activity of these forces eighteen years ago was followed by a miserable surrender on the part of the English Government, and not understanding how greatly opinion has changed in this country, they hope that history may repeat itself, and that England, wearying of an unpopular struggle, will soon cede to them all they ask. They are mistaken, but such is their faith. They hope also, perchance with better reason, that other complications may force us to stay our hand. If no more telegrams can be extracted from the German Emperor, still there is a German regiment fighting on their side who will take with them the sympathies of the Fatherland, and they know that the hearts of the great Powers of Europe will go out towards any people who try to strike a blow at the root of the ever-growing tree of the might of the British Empire. Buoyed up by bubbles such as these they have determined to tempt the stern arbitrament of battle.[2]