The story of the Congo Free State

by Henry Wellington Wack

The decline and fall of great empires has ever been a fascinating subject of study, congenial alike to students of widely diverse opinions and pursuits; yet it must be clear to all that in human interest the breaking up of an empire is as nothing when compared with its founding. The reason is, probably, that so little is known of the origin of great national communities. The United States is almost alone among nations in respect that its growth, from its inception to its mature ultimate triumph, has been watched by keenly observant eyes, and every particular of its perilous progress carefully recorded. But when the future historian, with comprehensive appreciation impossible in a contemporary, reviews the events of the last quarter of the nineteenth century, one fact will stand well out before him, a unique and very potent fact, fraught with vast possibilities for the future—none other than the founding, by the wisdom of a kingly philanthropist, of a humanitarian, civilising, free political state in the very heart of savage and cannibalistic Africa.

Consider for a moment how the great Congo Free State has been evolved out of a group of warring tribes (in part cannibal), and inquire what manner of man is Leopold II., King of the Belgians, alone responsible for this wondrous transformation; and who even now, when weight of years and record of achievement might well entitle him to repose, works on bravely, through good and through ill report, for the prosperity and happiness of the twenty-odd million Africans who acknowledge him for their Sovereign.

Thirty-six years ago, when the present Sovereign of the Congo Free State succeeded his father as King of the Belgians, and became known to the world as Leopold II., Africa was generally referred to as the “Dark Continent.” At that period, and for long after, even the most optimistic of statesmen failed to perceive in those vast regions any promising outlet for the congested populations of the Old World, or possible markets for their manufactures. Diamonds, small in quantity and of indifferent quality, had, it is true, been discovered in the southernmost part of that continent, in a region already appropriated by the British. Gold, also, was thought to exist there, but not in paying quantities; while the deadliness of the African climate to Europeans, in all save a few favoured sections, was an universally accepted article of faith.

Foremost among the small band of thinkers who totally dissented from this view was Leopold II., King of the Belgians. A young man of extraordinarily fine physique, an accomplished linguist, widely read and travelled, and holding advanced liberal views in all matters pertaining to statecraft and social science, King Leopold had early the prescience to perceive in Africa the means to uplift some twenty or more millions of the Negro race from debased savagery to peaceful civilisation, and at the same time and by the same means—the latter a necessarily accompanying incident of the former—found a colony for the surplus population of the small State of which he is King; Belgium being then, as now, the most densely populated of European countries, its people almost entirely dependent on the sale abroad of the products of their industry.

Bold and original ideas rarely find much favour when first presented to the world. The bulk of mankind is conservative; it thinks of yesterday, is oppressed by the troubles of to-day, and lets to-morrow take care of itself. At first, where King Leopold’s ideas for the regeneration of Africa attracted any attention at all, they were regarded with bland smiles as utopian visions, more creditable to the heart than to the head of the princely visionary. But true genius, though it may be hampered and delayed in its onward march, is not to be extinguished either by active opposition or cold indifference. Of such calibre is King Leopold, or there would to-day be no Congo Free State, nor what some past-masters in the obscuration of the obvious are sometimes pleased to call “the Congo Question.”

A Prophetic Sentence.

Gladstone’s Choice.

So long ago as 1860, King Leopold, then Duke of Brabant, in a speech delivered before the Belgian Senate, said: “I claim for Belgium her share of the sea,”—apparently a plain and colourless utterance, but really the expression of a vital interest for his country, for which no market spells extinction, and no political power but on Belgian soil means no market for Belgian goods. In 1860 the attention of mankind was just beginning to turn to Africa. Two years before, Sir Richard Burton and Captain Speke had startled geographers by discovering Lake Tanganyika, a revelation to be soon afterwards eclipsed by the further discovery of the sources of the Nile and Lake Victoria, by Speke and Grant. About the same time Sir Samuel Baker, then in the service of the Khedive of Egypt, discovered Lake Albert. The travellers whose fortune it was to make these important discoveries had been preceded by the intrepid Dr. Livingstone, whose marvellous energies on behalf of civilisation and Christianity were, however, chiefly confined to the Zambesi Valley until the year 1866, when he first entered the Congo region and further enhanced his already great reputation by discovering the lakes Moero and Bangweolo. Then came the discovery of Livingstone—himself so long lost to his anxious countrymen—by Henry M. Stanley. That was in 1871, when the armed hosts of France and Germany were engaged in a death struggle, and led Mr. Gladstone to remark:

The eyes of all the world are bent toward the bloody battle-fields of France; but I prefer to regard those almost impenetrable African wilds where a small band of men, whose numbers may be counted on the fingers of one hand, add year by year to our knowledge of those little-known regions, carrying with them the blessings of civilisation and of truth, heralding the extinction of what for so many ages has been the world’s curse—slavery.