Russian Memories

by Olga Alekseevna Novikova

The first fact was the Sultan. In 1896 England called him "the Assassin" and the "accursed." Mr. William Watson even went to the length of referring to him as "Abdul the Damned." But England, alas! saved him in 1878, and she gloried in the deed. When Lord Salisbury reported from Berlin the net result of English diplomacy at the Congress, he boasted that it had "restored, with due security for good government (!), a very large territory to the Government of the Sultan," and that the alterations made in our Treaty of San Stéfano tended "powerfully to secure from external assault the stability and independence of his Empire."

It is difficult to repress a bitter smile when recalling the positive assurances which were given to Europe by Lord Beaconsfield as to the "angelic" character of Abdul Hamid, who was then England's protégé, England's ally, England's favourite.

Russia maintained that no Sultan could be trusted to protect Christian subjects, and Mr. Gladstone concurred. Everywhere there must be a guarantee. Either the populations must be freed entirely from his rule or an outside Power must superintend and enforce the execution of reforms. England met this with a flat refusal. She made it the first object of her policy to restore the direct uncontrolled authority of the Sultan over as wide a territory as possible, and Lord Beaconsfield exulted in the fatal success of that policy for many reasons, but especially for one, which most of my English friends seem to have forgotten, but which Russians, being the sufferers, do not forget so easily.

Lord Beaconsfield was sure he had done right because the Sultan was such "a good man." On his return from Berlin, in his speech at the Mansion House (July 27, 1898) he gave the following testimonial to Abdul Hamid—the hero of to-day:

"I look to the individual character of that human being as of vast importance. He is a man whose every impulse is good. However great may be the difficulties he has to encounter, however various may be the influences that may ultimately control him, his impulses are always good. He is not a tyrant, he is not dissolute. He is not a bigot. He is not corrupt."

The comments of the Young Turks on this pronouncement would be interesting.

England had her way. Abdul Hamid, "whose every impulse was good," reigned by virtue of his action in 1878 over regions from which Russia had driven him out. But that was not all. England deliberately spoiled, as may be seen by reference to the protocols of the Congress, every stipulation made to compel the Sultan to keep his word. His "impulses were so good" it would be cruel to make provision for the proper execution of his treaty obligations! He must be left unhampered and uncontrolled. England rejected Russian proposals to impose upon all contracting parties the mutual duty of controlling the stipulations of the treaty because the Porte objected to allow within its own limits the control of other States. That was not to be thought of. The Sultan must be left free and uncontrolled to obey those "good impulses" of which Lord Beaconsfield was so well assured. Thus it is that Europe was paralysed over the Armenian massacres.

In face of such a situation which had thus been created, and in the midst of an impotence which was prepared in advance at the Berlin Congress, Russia was overwhelmed with denunciations because she did not remain true to the crusading policy of 1876. This hardly seemed to me to be what in England you call "fair play."

But that was not all. If we had merely to do with the Berlin Treaty, we might have endeavoured to make the best use of the worthless weapons which it contains. Unfortunately, the responsibility of England for the inaction of Russia was far more direct, far more deadly, than this.

For Lord Beaconsfield, and the English people applauded him, with the evil prescience of hatred, foresaw the Armenian massacres, and provided in advance for the paralysing of Russia's generous initiative. He even fixed a date when events would compel Russia to face the necessity of resorting to force to coerce the Sultan, and, as he publicly explained in the heart of the City of London, he regarded it as the crowning achievement of his policy to prevent such action on our part by the solemn public pledge of immediate war by England in that case.