The present ruler, Abdullah, is marching steadily in the path of desolation. He roots out eagerly every vestige of Egyptian rule; all foreign influence he keeps at a distance, for he will rule over an ignorant people. He wants nothing from beyond his own boundaries. If he has no money, cloth becomes the medium of exchange; ammunition he makes himself. With his Baggaras he rules with an iron hand. Those who resist are pitilessly robbed, imprisoned, or exiled.
Abdullah rules in the name of the Mahdi, whose religious prestige is the readiest weapon for swaying the multitude. He keeps unaltered the decisions, the visions, the wild dreams which so powerfully established the imposture. The pilgrimage to Mecca he regards as dangerous. Even from such enlightenment as they might find at the shrine of their faith, his people are heedfully kept away.
A Spartan habit of life was enjoined by the Mahdi. This Abdullah still attempts to maintain, for he wishes the people to be ready to follow him, and is careful that they shall have no inducement to stay at home. Like the Mahdi, the Khalifa puts his orders in the form of visions, which have the weight of divine manifestations. Often he locks himself in darkness in the Mahdi's tomb, and spends nights in pretended commune with his master.
The policy of Abdullah is directed to strengthening his power and concentrating it in the hands of his Baggaras. Once he is sure of what he has got, he will try to enlarge his dominion. Barbarism and desolation will be extended to provinces which internal difficulties have so far prevented him from absorbing. He thinks of nothing but war. Omdurman is one vast camp. All men bear arms or are flogged; whoso rides must carry a spear and five javelins. Speeches and harangues all raise the spirit of war.
The weakness of the monarchy lies in the dissensions between the Baggara and the Aulad-belad—that is, the Jaalin, Danagla, and others. The Danagla are objects of the Khalifa's special aversion, and he would gladly exterminate them. But with his Baggaras he can at present maintain himself with ease.
Mahdiism is founded on plunder and violence, and by plunder and violence it is carried on. In some districts half the people are dead, in others the loss of life is even greater. Whole tribes have been completely blotted out, and in their places roam the wild beasts, spreading and increasing in fierceness and in numbers, until they bid fair to finish the destruction of the human race; for they enter huts, and women and children are no longer safe.
How long shall this condition of affairs continue? Negotiation with Abdullah is hopeless; that has been proved by many well-intentioned efforts, but shall savagery and desolation continue for ever? Shall the roads remain always closed that lead from Halfa and Sawakin to the richest provinces of Africa? The Sudan has lost faith in the humanity of Europe, nor does it cease from wonder why Europe has not yet stepped in. Consuls of the greatest nations have been murdered, their flags torn down, their agents kept in slavery.
Interference while the revolt was at its height could not perhaps be efficient—that is understood. But now the face of things is changed. The Sudanese have been heavily punished for their mistaken trust; they have suffered to the bitter end. Where may they look for a deliverer?
For the sake of three people did not England undertake a costly and difficult war? Is not even a more worthy object the punishment of Abdullah and the delivery of the enslaved and decimated peoples? I have pined ten years in bondage, and now, by the help of God, I have escaped. In the names of the companions with whom I suffered, in the name of the Sudan people, whose misery I have seen, and in the name of all civilized nations, I ask this question:
How long shall Europe—and above all that nation which has first part in Egypt and the Sudan—which stands deservedly first in civilizing savage races, how long shall Europe and Great Britain watch unmoved the outrages of the Khalifa and the destruction of the Sudan people?