Perhaps no better example could be given than his attitude regarding the events of 1879 in South Africa. The Zulus had threatened and harassed an impoverished and resourceless Transvaal. The Transvaal had requested and obtained “annexation” from Great Britain. But the Zulu chief, irritated by the suppression of the “suzerainty” arrogated by him over the Boer lands, began to beset the Natal borders. The Governor of Natal was for appeasing them. Sir Bartle Frere, however, that commanding High Commissioner of South Africa, took an opposite view, and favoured a course unmistakable for weakness. In his conferences with Cetchwayo he made requisitions, on his own initiative, exceeding his instructions from home. The result was war, with the disaster of Isandhlwana, the rally of Rorke’s Drift, and eventual success. During March the matter was brought before the House of Lords in a form arranged to censure the Government policy, but so worded as to restrict the debate to the advisability of Sir Bartle Frere’s recall on the ground of his unauthorised ultimatum.

Disraeli’s speech is worthy of close attention, if only because it forecasts the ultimate federation of South Africa. Disraeli defended Sir Bartle on the score that to succeed in impugning error, if error it was, of a distinguished public servant chosen by the Crown, was to impugn its prerogative. “Great services are not cancelled by one act or one single error, however it may be regretted at the moment. If he had been recalled ... in deference to the panic, the thoughtless panic of the hour, in deference to those who have no responsibility in the matter, and who have not weighed well and deeply investigated all the circumstances and all the arguments ... which ... must be appealed to to influence our opinions in such questions—no doubt a certain degree of odium might have been diverted from the heads of her Majesty’s ministers, and the world would have been delighted, as it always is, to find a victim.... We had only one course to pursue, ... to take care that at this most critical period ... affairs ... in South Africa should be directed by one, not only qualified to direct them, but who was superior to any other individual whom we could have selected for the purpose.”

It would be a bad precedent, he resumed, for the safety of the empire if an exceptional indiscretion were to efface a long record of signal ability; and he drew to the recollection of the House[122] the case of Sir James Hudson at Turin, whose conduct had been similarly attacked, and whom he, as the leader of the Opposition, had refused to make a party question, and had himself then defended on the same public considerations. But adverting to policy, he used these weighty words—

“... Sir Bartle Frere was selected by the noble Lord (Carnarvon) ... chiefly to secure one great end—namely, to carry out that policy of CONFEDERATION in South Africa which the noble Lord had carried out on a previous occasion with regard to the North American colonies.

“If there is any policy which, in my mind, is opposed to the policy of annexation, it is that of confederation. By pursuing the policy of confederation, we bind states together, we consolidate their resources, and we enable them to establish a strong frontier; that is the best security against annexation. I myself regard a policy of annexation with great distrust. I believe that the reasons of state which induced us to annex the Transvaal were not, on the whole, perfectly sound. But what were these circumstances?... The Transvaal was a territory which was no longer defended by its occupiers.... The annexation of that province was ... a geographical necessity.

“But the ‘annexation’ of the Transvaal was one of the reasons why those who were connected with that province might have calculated upon the permanent existence of Zululand as an independent state. I know it is said that, when we are at war, as we unfortunately now are, with the Zulus, or any other savage nation, even though we inflicted upon them some great disaster, and might effect an arrangement with them of a peaceable character, before long the same power would again attack us, unless we annexed the territory. I have never considered that a legitimate argument in favour of annexation of a barbarous country.... Similar results might occur in Europe if we went to war with one of our neighbours.... But is that an argument why we should not hold our hand until we have completely crushed our adversary, and is that any reason why we should pursue a policy of extermination with regard to a barbarous nation with whom we happen to be at war? That is a policy which I hope will never be sanctioned by this House.

“It is, of course, possible that we may again be involved in war with the Zulus; but it is an equal chance that in the development of circumstances in that part of the world, the Zulu people may have to invoke the aid and the alliance of England against some other people, and that the policy dictated by feelings and influence which have regulated our conduct with regard to European states, may be successfully pursued with regard to less civilised nations in a different part of the world. This is the policy of her Majesty’s Government, and therefore they cannot be in favour of a policy of annexation, because it is directly opposed to it....

The same considerations, those of settled and settling limits—considerations, let me repeat, directly opposed to a vague and wavering policy fraught with encroachments, alarm, and haphazard embroilment—were to actuate his policy towards Afghanistan during 1879, into the vexed details of which I shall not now enter, though they might be reviewed with instruction; the policy, too, that recognised that English vacillation would at once be magnified into weakness throughout the bazaars of the Orient.[123]

The “insane annexation” of that fortress-citadel, Kandahar, it has often been objected, was the most vulnerable of Disraeli’s schemes. There are many entitled to respect who still hold that it was rightly and profitably rescinded. Moreover, the tragic sequel of the heroic Cavagnari’s death prejudiced the public. But the chain of events which required, the conciliatory conditions which accompanied it, and the true causes, or pretexts, for its annulment with virulence, should be carefully remembered. A former Viceroy’s mistake in rebuffing the friendly overtures of the Afghans, the Muscovite move forward in Central Asia, while war was in the air, the consequent intrigues at Cabul, perturbed by dynastic broils—these were some of the warrants for its necessity. Fresh Russian manœuvres and advances, owing to a fatally feeble policy in the Soudan, were parts of the lever for its relinquishment. The highest military authorities sanctioned it at the time, though other high military authorities disapproved a few years later. But when it is borne in mind that Disraeli’s previous occupation of Quetta, the key both to Kandahar and the Pishin valley, is now a large cantonment, that a railway is ready to be laid to within no great distance of Kandahar itself on any fresh emergency, it may well be pondered whether Disraeli was mistaken, and whether time has not confounded the triflers who caricatured him as a music-hall singer, with the refrain—

“I wear a jewel in my cap—
Kandahar, Kandahar.”