The story of the Congo Free State

by Henry Wellington Wack

Sir Charles Dilke Astray.

The brilliant, cordial, and edifying final session of the Berlin Conference presaged no such campaign of calumny as that which has proceeded since Sir Charles Dilke, on gross misinformation purveyed by interested persons, and on what appears to have been his wilful misreading of a book entitled The Fall of the Congo Arabs, attacked the Congo State by moving in the British Parliament on April 2, 1897, a measure calling for a new Conference to consider charges which no one had presented, but which, for some inscrutable reason, this eminent parliamentarian seemed anxious to dignify by sensational legislation.

When the Berlin Conference concluded its labours, it was with manifest sympathy for the King of the Belgians and his voluntary pledge to an African task which practically all the participating Powers regarded as impossible of achievement, such were its glaring difficulties. Now, after twenty years of Belgian sacrifice, there are those who, jealous of the achievements in a task they were so anxious to avoid in 1885, must destroy where they cannot reap in 1905. To men of purpose and brave outlook, this is merely one of the many incivilities of civilisation. Success begets envy in one’s neighbour; failure often confirms him in his secret contempt.

In Belgium the completion of the General Act of the Berlin Conference evoked a patriotic feeling of satisfaction which, in its address to the King, the Chamber of Representatives voiced in the following language: “To your Majesty belongs the honour of having conceived the African work, of having pursued and developed it by persevering efforts.... We felicitate your Majesty on these important results, and, as Belgians, we are proud of the solemn homage rendered by the Powers to the generous and progressive ideas of our Sovereign.” The Belgian nation, for a long time uncertain of the result of the philanthropic work of its King in Central Africa, and having observed that other nations had shrunk from this costly task of civilisation, now uttered its sentiments of approval in many forms. In his speech before the Chamber on March 10, 1885, M. Beernaert, then Minister of Finance, said, amongst other expressions of hope for the new State, that the merit of the work accomplished “belongs especially to the initiation, to the persistent energy, and to the sacrifices of our King.” Then, expressing the hope of extended industries—a hope that was largely, if not entirely, the incentive which actuated the Powers Signatory to the Berlin Act—the Minister concluded his address with the belief that the Congo would offer “to our superabundant activity, to our industries more and more confined, outlets by which we shall know how to profit. May the enterprising spirit of our King encourage our countrymen to seek, even at a distance, new sources of greatness and prosperity for our dear country.” The Belgian Chamber and Senate ratified the nation’s participation in the General Act of the Berlin Conference without a dissentient voice.

To the loyal address of his Parliament, the King of the Belgians made reply, graciously acknowledging the support his subjects had given him in his great African work.

Native Musicians at Lusambo (Lualaba-Kassai).

There remained now the making of a Sovereign for the new State, and, having regard to the universal tribute of praise rendered to its founder at the Berlin Conference, it was clear enough, in its opinion, who should continue to direct the destinies of a wild territory in which so much had been accomplished in so short a time. Belgium, however, was not prepared, in 1885, to take over the Congo State as her colony. There were, at that time, many considerations in Belgium and in the Congo to suggest caution to a naturally conservative Government. The creation of the Congo State had involved many risks and great difficulties. It had required a huge expenditure of money, nearly all of which the King had personally contributed without the slightest assurance that his country or his estate would ever recover it, except in so far as his marvellous foresight assured him in this respect. If there were many difficulties at the beginning of his Majesty’s African enterprise, there were still greater obstacles to be surmounted. To the ultra-conservative section of the Belgian Parliament the whole project was still enshrouded in doubt. But the King, having so far borne the risks and the cost of civilising the savage African black man, had also given his country the written assurance that the result of his labours—whatever they were when realised—should be at the disposal, by appropriation or otherwise, of the Belgian nation “without costing her anything.” As the theory of a purely personal union between Belgium and the Congo State had found much favour, it was proposed that the King of the Belgians should be empowered to become the Sovereign of the Congo Free State without in any respect involving the Belgian nation.

In this eminently practical proposal the King had taken the initiative in the following letter to his Council of Ministers:

Gentlemen:—The work created in Africa by the International African Association has greatly developed. A new State has been founded, its limits are fixed, and its flag is recognised by almost all the Powers.