Contrary opinions as to the final result of our mission to Abdur Rahman are still afloat both in our camp and in the Cabul bazaars; but so far everything that the most sanguine could have hoped for in the direction of an entente cordiale being established between the Pretender and the British Government has happily come to pass. Our Mission has reached its destination in safety, has been honourably and even effusively received, and we are on the eve of receiving an answer from the Sirdar himself regarding the proposals we have made to him. And yet there is a large party in the city who still persist in prophesying that Abdur Rahman will never visit Cabul so long as the British force occupies the city. Their reasons are disjointed and somewhat irrational, but they are repeated with such persistent head-shaking and beard-wagging that, in spite of one’s own better belief, it is difficult at times to avoid thinking as these birds of ill-omen think. Not that they deny either the Sirdar’s anxiety or determination to be Amir (this they admit most unequivocally), but they argue that he is too wise to ruin himself in the eye of the nation by accepting the Amirship from the hands of a British General. When they are reminded that the British are just as determined that the new Amir shall be simply and solely their nominee, as their work would be incomplete if they left the throne to be filled by any candidate who might get a party together, they cry back on their lines of argument, and insist that Abdur Rahman will be Amir, but by virtue of his own popularity and prowess, and not as a man accepting a boon from a conquering army. When it comes to the finer details of ways and means, the prophets can only take refuge in vague hints and inane mumblings which would have shamed even the vilest impostor in the old days, when prophecy had some points to recommend it to the credulous. Perhaps the explanation is that Abdur Rahman has not in Cabul itself a faction worthy of the name. His prestige lies not so much in the sympathy of the citizens as in the support the hardier tribesmen are willing to give him as a soldier and a ruler. There is something in his success in Eastern Turkistan which has drawn the independent and reckless spirits of Kohistan, Koh-Daman, and Logar to him: it may be the boldness with which he has declared himself claimant to the throne, or that his old fame as a successful general still lives in the hearts of the people. Every man born in Afghanistan is born to a soldier’s life, not the life of camps and campaigns so much as the constant struggle of intertribal warfare, or time-honoured family feuds. Every man’s hand is familiar with the use of jhezail or rifle, tulwar or knife, and a successful leader is far more honoured and more faithfully followed than a chief who lives by intrigue and begs his way to power by lavish bribery. Abdur Rahman ruled in Cabul, after Dost Mahomed’s death and Shere Ali’s usurpation, by mere force of success in arms. He placed his father upon the throne in defiance of Shere Ali, who was never a match for him in the field, even though backed by the support of the Indian Government. Shere Ali won Cabul finally in the absence of his young rival in Turkistan. In an instant his success was magnified, he became the successful warrior, and his power was assured. Abdur Rahman sank out of sight. Later, Yakub Khan blazed into power, a bold leader of armies, full of vigorous life. How success bred success in his case until Herat and Turkistan were practically lost to his father, contemporary history shows; and only when he sank the soldier in the son, and trusted in his father’s rotten honour, did his career come to an end. Yakub, free and holding his own proudly in Herat, was a figure to draw men’s admiration and support: Yakub, a prisoner in the Bala Hissar, was a fallen star which could no longer dazzle men’s eyes. So it has been with Abdur Rahman Khan. In January 1869 he crossed the Oxus a fugitive, and since that eventful year he has been nothing but a lay figure in Afghan politics. Now he is once more clearly outlined before the people, who have been bitterly humiliated by our armies since the murder of our Envoy in the Bala Hissar.
They may at first have looked to the grandson of the Dost to avenge their humiliations by force of arms; but the fall of Ghazni and the appearance of another 7,000 men to swell our numbers in Cabul and the Logar Valley have dashed their hopes once and for all. Now they turn their eyes northward, mayhap their feet also, and await the sign that will free them from the presence of the Kafir armies. So it is that Abdur Rahman seems to them a hero, a deliverer; they are lifted beyond the petty intrigues of the Barakzai sirdars in Cabul, the deep plotting of the Mustaufi, or the empty bombast of Mahomed Jan. Even Mushk-i-Alam, the arch-priest of discontent, is silent for a while: there are no new appeals to their fanaticism, and not 1,000 men are under arms in districts which have been seething with revolt for months. Logar, Kohistan, Wardak, are no longer names to conjure with. Mahomed Jan even has drifted into Kharwar and Zurmut, whose widely-armed tribes are held in contempt by the better trained forces of the provinces about Cabul, the male population of which has been leavened with sepoys carrying firearms equal in part to our own. The Northern Ghilzais are for a moment sobered by the reflection that Afghanistan is likely to be rid of a foreign army sooner by the advent of the Sirdar now in Khanabad than by listening to suggestions of renewed outbreaks and ceaseless harrying of our posts in the Passes. True, factious moolahs, like Khalil and Fakir, are stirring up disaffection about Jellalabad; but that district is somewhat removed from the direct effect of the influences at work about Cabul, and we can afford to disregard such petty outbreaks, which only give us a better chance of showing our power to strike in all directions. The little actions which have lately been fought in Beshud and the Shinwari country will bear their own fruit; every additional tower destroyed is another mark of our current supremacy, another warning that our forbearance has limits—wide though they be. Even the towers of Padshah Khan—ally, enemy, friend, traitor, alternately—are at last in ruins, and his crops may yet be reaped by our soldiers. On the one hand, we proffer honest negotiation leading to a stable settlement; on the other, we are firm to punish the restless animosity which seeks to force us out of the country by incessant annoyance and harassing intrigue.
Perhaps the reasoning which I have mentioned as being in vogue in Cabul as to the probable failure of any negotiations with Sirdar Abdur Rahman may be due to the efforts of the Cabul sirdars, who dread the coming of our nominee more than they loathe our own domination over the city. Ambition is not a passion easily foregone, and both Wali Mahomed and Hashim Khan know that the dreams once indulged in of power and pre-eminence in Afghanistan are now at an end. The offer of the Amirship has been formally made to their rival: his claims have thus been declared pre-eminent, and minor pretenders are cast out into the utter darkness of neglect and contempt. The sirdars know they have nothing to expect at the hands of Mahomed Afzul’s son except contumely or even worse; his years of exile have hung heavily upon him; and Shere Ali’s family and partisans are in his black list. Petrovsky, the Russian writer, who saw so much of the Sirdar and professed to know him very intimately, wrote, “To get square some day with the English and Shere Ali was Abdur Rahman’s most cherished thought, his dominant, never-failing passion.” No doubt Petrovsky believed the hatred towards the English was equal to that against Shere Ali; but time and events have modified the former, particularly as the English are masters of the situation, while it is probable the feeling of revenge against Shere Ali’s family is still as lively as ever. It therefore behoves Hashim Khan, who, by his marriage with Abdulla Jan’s sister, became one of the family, to exert himself to prevent the Sirdar becoming Amir; and this he is doing by intrigues which have, luckily, as yet borne but little fruit. Knowing his own chance has disappeared, he thinks to make Ayub Khan a powerful claimant through the latter’s position in Herat. Hashim, it is believed, has also made attempts to seduce the Kohistanis from Abdur Rahman’s cause, and how much further his intrigues may go we cannot at all estimate. Probably he has sown distrust, by means of agents, in the mind of Abdur Rahman himself, warning him that the British only wish to get possession of his person with a view to sending him a prisoner to India.
From whatever cause it may be, the fact is clear that Abdur Rahman is somewhat distrustful of our overtures, though welcoming them warmly as becomes a pretender who suddenly finds himself first in the running for a throne. The news which has reached Cabul of the progress of our Mission is highly important; and although official reticence is great, the messengers and others who have arrived from Khanabad a few days ago have spread pretty trustworthy reports of what has really occurred. The little party which left Sherpur on May 3rd passed through Kohistan unmolested, and after trying a journey through the Sir-i-Lang Pass, in parts of which the snow was still lying, they found themselves beyond the Hindu Kush and well on their way to Kunduz. For a day they were delayed by stress of weather, but afterwards their journey was unbroken, Ghori being reached, and finally Kunduz, about the 14th or 15th of May. They had been joined by numbers of men from Kohistan anxious to pay their respects to the Sirdar, and they seem never to have been in any danger from marauding bands which are known to infest the country. Abdur Rahman sent a troop of cavalry to escort them to Khanabad, and on their arrival every honour due to the Ambassadors of the British Government was paid to them. A tent near the Sirdar’s own was placed at their service, and they were treated throughout with great courtesy, though always strictly guarded. Then began their real work, the usual public and private interviews, so much in vogue in the East, taking place daily. Finally, in a great Durbar, the letter from the British was presented to the Sirdar, and the contents were read out. My information goes so far in regard to the letter that I am justified in stating its purport to have been an unfettered offer of the Amirship to Abdur Rahman Khan. Whether Herat and Candahar were specified as being detached from the Durani kingdom, I cannot say; but most probably they were, perhaps with the after-idea of gracefully yielding Herat to the Amir, and so giving the appearance of concession on our part. But for official secrecy, this point could be at once cleared up; but the Government of India are the best judges of what should be made known on their part, and until they contradict the belief here that Herat is to be independent, we must go on believing that the proposal to the Sirdar is that he may become Amir of Eastern and Northern Afghanistan, Turkistan and Badakshan, leaving Candahar in our possession, while Herat is to be “independent,”—though in whose charge is not very clear. The effect upon Abdur Rahman of Mr. Lepel Griffin’s letter is described as one of great satisfaction and even joy; he caused alms to be distributed among the poor, and generally rejoiced at the new prospect opened out to him. But he is a cautious and sagacious man, and after eleven years’ waiting is not foolish enough to mar his chance by unseemly haste. For himself he declares that the offer is most tempting and highly pleasing; but, that his power as Amir may be unquestioned, he desires to have the opinion of all the chiefs of the country who shall share with him the responsibility of forming a new Government. Thus he does not hasten to leave Khanabad, to rush to Sherpur, assume power, and trust to his own personal energy to retain it; he methodically takes the best course to secure popular election; and until he has gained the ear of the people, he will not leave the Kattagan country, where his camp is now pitched. That distrust, which is so essentially a part of the Afghan character, is also at work in his mind, as his good fortune seems almost too sudden and too unqualified not to have hidden beneath it some sinister meaning; and until he is convinced of the contrary, and thoroughly reassured, he is not likely to cross the Hindu Kush. He is sending his formal answer by one of the members of the Mission; and upon its arrival we shall, of course, have to take steps to sweep all distrust from the Sirdar’s mind and convince him of the honesty of our intentions. This will not be difficult, and then the negotiations will crystallize into tangible shape, and we may, at last, see our way to unravel the Afghan tangle which has so long irritated and perplexed us. The first signs of the new order of things is that a loan of a lakh of rupees has been advanced to the Sirdar by the Hindus and ryots of Kohistan, who are astute enough to see that the British are the real sureties for repayment, as Abdur Rahman must receive their support if he is to hold his own, in the future, in Cabul.
4th June.
Sirdar Ibrahim Khan, one of the members of our Mission to Abdur Rahman Khan, has returned to Cabul, and has proved the possibility of communicating direct with the Pretender. But still we seem no nearer a settlement than before the Mission started; for the Sirdar, acting, perhaps, at the instigation of the native Russian agent, said to be in his camp, is serenely independent in his attitude, and has given no promise whatever on any specific points connected with the Amirship. He seems to be fully aware of our awkward position in the country, and is not at all anxious to aid us in extricating ourselves. Our military supremacy he does not doubt, but the political dead-lock, he knows, has nonplussed us; and secure in his retreat beyond the Hindu Kush, he is working rather to make the British, and not himself, the grateful party in the current negotiations. What the status of the native representing Russia at Khanabad may be, I have but limited means of knowing; but if native report is to be trusted,—and it is all I have to rely upon,—Abdur Rahman is being guided entirely by this man’s advice. The result is that any speedy settlement is out of the question, for the crooked ways of Russian diplomacy are difficult to follow; and what the Sirdar may be egged on yet to demand, even the greatest diplomat in Sherpur or Simla cannot conjecture. Ibrahim Khan, it is true, brought with him a letter from Abdur Rahman, which was couched in cordial terms. But beyond cordiality, which costs nothing among Eastern nations, the letter contains little of value. The Sirdar, like a precocious child, “wants to know too much.” There is no spontaneous outburst of gratitude, no eager acceptance of our offer of the Amirship: but, on the contrary, a cool, self-possessed tone of inquiry, as if the writer felt himself master of the situation, and meant to dictate his own terms. This is the more unfortunate, because there is no longer a strong power to back our efforts to settle the question with the high hand of conquerors. The change of front in English politics has reacted upon us here with tremendous effect, and we are appearing in the eyes of the people rather as suppliants than dictators to Abdur Rahman. Perhaps the Sirdar himself is of much the same opinion, but he may find himself wofully mistaken in a few weeks. We shall not yield on every point he raises; simply because we have other cards to play. This he will soon be made to understand; and he must then choose once for all. He is trying our patience a good deal now; but there are limits to our forbearance, and these limits are not far distant.
Cabul has, indeed, proved a white elephant which we cannot afford to feed. We are so anxious to get rid of the beast at any price, that we are thrusting it as a gift upon a man who looks upon it as his lawful property, which we have seriously injured while holding it tethered in our midst. The independent spirit shown by the Sirdar, whether real or affected, cannot but have a bad effect upon the tribal chiefs; and if we allow the negotiations to “drag” much longer, serious mischief may follow. The natural restlessness of the Afghans will not permit them to watch and wait for months; and already there are signs of a turbulent spirit manifesting itself. A large body of fanatical Safis have passed from Tagao into Kohistan, and our only means of counteracting the jehad they are said to be raising has been to dismiss the Ghilzai and Kohistani deputations hitherto waiting in Cabul. The maliks have accordingly been sent to their homes, and it is hoped their efforts to maintain peace will be successful. To send a division now into Kohistan would be to cause greater distrust in Turkistan than already exists, and if our negotiations are to come to any satisfactory point, this distrust must not be excited. I have learnt from Sirdar Ibrahim Khan, that while our Mission was honourably received at Khanabad, Sirdar Abdur Rahman was so mistrustful, either of his own power, or of his followers’ fanaticism, that he had practically to treat our representatives as prisoners. Sirdar Wazirzada Afzul Khan, Ibrahim Khan, and Sher Mahomed Khan were lodged in a large tent adjoining the Sirdar’s, as I mentioned in a previous letter, and a strong guard surrounded both. The members of the Mission were unable to move about of their own free-will, and they had but little, if any, opportunity of consulting together. Abdur Rahman can scarcely be blamed for these precautions, as, in case of insult or violence being offered to the Sirdars, he would have been held personally responsible for the breach of hospitality. He does not seem to have had any very large body of troops with him, the want of money, of course, hindering him in his efforts to collect the army of Turkistan, about him. Sirdar Ibrahim Khan describes him as by far the most civilized, intelligent, and able Afghan he has ever met; and though the knowledge has been gained in a short intercourse[intercourse], it is valuable as bearing out the opinions of Schuyler, Petrovsky, and other writers, who saw the man under the unfavourable conditions of exile and despondency. During his residence in Tashkend Abdur Rahman has kept himself well informed on general Asiatic politics; and this knowledge he is now applying, to the best of his ability, in his negotiations with the British.
Ibrahim Khan saw a number of photographs of the Sirdar on his tent, and one of these was presented to him on his expressing a desire to carry back a copy with him. The portrait is by a photographer of Tashkend, and shows a man of about forty years of age, broad-shouldered and stoutly built, with a face expressing rather stolid self-possession than striking intelligence. A huge black beard covers the lower half of the face, but cannot hide the thick sensual lips, which contrast greatly with the broad forehead and stubborn eyes. The Sirdar is in uniform of Western cut, and wears a curved sword of the kind affected by Afghan nobles. The face shows no marks of trouble or anxiety, and has not that harassed look which was so characteristic of Shere Ali and Yakub Khan. Abdur Rahman is a “well-preserved” man, and, if report speaks truly, has still left to him the energy and ambition which made him so dangerous an enemy of Shere Ali twelve years ago.
Sirdar Ibrahim Khan will return to Khanabad in a few days, carrying back with him full explanations of our policy; and these once given, Abdur Rahman will be practically in the position of having received an ultimatum. The local sirdars persist in saying that he will never come in; but the last news from the North is that the Sirdar is establishing posts between Khanabad and Charikar, thus securing rapid and safe communication with Kohistan and Cabul. As he has no army worthy of the name, this step can be scarcely a preparation for a hostile advance, but looks more as if he were making his own passage to Sherpur secure when the time comes for his journey to our camp.
2nd July.