Sketches of Persia

by John Malcolm

Abdûlla Aga is a man in whose company I take great pleasure. His understanding is vigorous and strong, and he has sufficient knowledge of the English character to speak his sentiments with freedom and confidence. I shall give the substance of a conversation I had with him about two weeks after my arrival, regarding the present condition of Persia and Turkey, with the resources and character of both which states he is intimately acquainted. Speaking of Turkey, he said he had no idea of its having the power to resist the slightest attack; and he believed, if left alone, it would soon fall to pieces of itself.—"I am myself a Turk, and know my countrymen well: from the Grand Signior to the lowest peasant in the empire, they are alike devoid of public virtue and patriotism; and that spirit of religion, which has long been the only bond of union that has kept this unwieldy state together, is every day becoming fainter; and while the Wahâbees are making converts of the inhabitants of Arabia and Syria, the provinces of Turkey in Europe are relaxing from their religious zeal, and becoming every day more ripe for the rule of those Christian nations, under whose power they must soon fall."

I could not help saying, I thought he drew an overcharged picture of the weak and distracted state of his country. "You will soon see," he said, "whether I am right or wrong. No man, whatever may be his rank, looks beyond his beard in Turkey: if he can find any expedient that gives him a prospect of its growing grey in quiet, he is content; and where all are so decidedly selfish in their views, who is to provide for the safety of the state, to guard which there must be some common sentiment of union?"

"What think you of Persia?" I asked. "Why, twenty times worse than of Turkey," replied he; "because they are to the full as devoid of every public principle, and much more ignorant. Believe me, you will soon be satisfied that they deserve this character. Can there be a doubt, at the present moment, how they ought to act between you and the French? And yet you will be able to settle nothing with them that is in the least satisfactory, without heavy bribes or harsh measures. The latter," he added, "will be the wisest in the present instance; for to feed their cupidity is only to whet their appetite, and to encourage them in a course that will, in its result, prove as injurious to these short-sighted fools as to the interests of the English government."

"The Elchee's intentions are so friendly," I observed in reply, "and his wishes so correspond with their true interests, that they must, I think, meet them, when all the advantages are explained." "Before you anticipate success from such an explanation, you should be certain that those to whom you speak have sense to comprehend you, which the Persians certainly have not. They think of nothing at this moment but the Russians, with whom they have discovered they are not able to contend. The French pretend to relieve them from this formidable danger, which they have not themselves the courage to face; and they cling to this promise without ever considering how far those who make it have the means of performing it. They neither understand the nature or distance of the resources of England or France, and are consequently incapable of forming a correct idea of the comparative power which those states possess of aiding or injuring them. They know that Bombay is within a month's sail, Madras six weeks, and Calcutta two months; and they believe you have some ships at these places; but even of these they have no clear idea; and as to Europe, they are as ignorant as an Abyssinian."

"Assuredly," said I, "you underrate their knowledge." "I do not," said Abdûlla; "they are worse than I have painted them, and their ignorance is so fortified by pride, that there is no hope of their amendment. Why (said he, with animation), what can you expect from men who are ignorant of the surface of the globe? There," said he, pointing to a rude Turkish book on geography, which lay near him, and appeared to be a translation from an old geographical grammar—"there is the only source of my knowledge, which does not place me on a par with one of your schoolboys of twelve years of age; and yet I am a wonder among these fools, who are astonished at the extent of my information in this branch of science."

Though I think it is a very deep and wise observation of that arch politician Machiavel, that the report of a man who has fled his country should not be implicitly trusted, as there must be a bias in his mind to depreciate what he has been obliged to abandon: still there is much truth in the picture which Abdûlla drew of Turkey, and his description of the Persians was not greatly exaggerated. The knowledge of that nation is limited to what they see before them, and their ideas of other States are very indistinct and confused, and consequently liable to frequent fluctuations and changes. All ranks in Persia are brought up to admire show and parade; and they are more likely to act from the dictates of imagination and vanity, than of reason and judgment. Their character was well drawn by Mahomed Nubbee Khan, the late ambassador to India. "If you wish my countrymen to understand you, speak to their eyes, not their ears."

My conversation with Abdûlla Aga was interrupted by the arrival of a medical gentleman, who had long resided at Abusheher, and who was not more remarkable for skill in his profession than a kindness of heart, which led him to devote his time to the poor inhabitants of the country who sought his aid. He had just been setting the broken leg of an Arab, of whom he gave us a very characteristic anecdote.

"The patient," the doctor said, "complained more of the accident which had befallen him than I thought becoming in one of his tribe. This I remarked to him, and his answer was truly amusing. 'Do not think, doctor, I should have uttered one word of complaint if my own high-bred colt, in a playful kick, had broke both my legs; but to have a bone broken by a brute of a jackass is too bad, and I will complain.'"

This distinction of feeling, as to the mode in which bones are broken, is not confined to the Arabs. I once met an artilleryman, after an action in India, with his arm shattered, who was loudly lamenting his bad fortune. I pointed, in an upbraiding manner, to some fine fellows on the ground, whose luck had been worse. "It is not the wound, sir," he retorted, in a passion, "of which I complain: had I lost a limb by a cannon-ball, I should not have said a word; but to lose one by a rascally rocket would make any one mad!"