Bulgaria, with Servia, is destined to become the power in the Balkans. Vigorous, strong, and fearless, under a Prince who has the courage of his own convictions, the country is one of progress, of great military strength and continual expansion. The Bulgar differs from the Roumanian inasmuch as he is more patriotic and far less extravagant; he is frugal, progressive, and active. His capital is not the weak imitation of Paris, as is Bucharest, nor are his officers gorgeously dressed and corseted. On the contrary, they are hardy, well trained, well equipped, and business-like to a degree.
Some interesting sidelights upon Bulgaria’s growing military strength have been revealed at the recent manœuvres, while an afternoon walk through Sofia will show how rapidly and firmly is the capital being established—the capital which is destined some day to be the capital of the Balkans.
Bulgarian Peasants dancing the “horo.”
On every hand I saw evidence of Bulgaria’s future greatness. The Ministry, without exception, is a strong one and incorruptible. There is a firmness and stability about everything, all betokening a great future. Ministerial crises are few, and the people do not neglect their affairs for politics, as is the case in some Balkan countries. Under Prince Ferdinand Bulgaria has progressed amazingly, and in the near future will assume a position of supreme importance in the Peninsula. Her policy towards Roumania is, however, a somewhat undecided one. While the Roumanians fondly think that Bulgaria cannot take decisive action in Macedonia without her consent, Bulgaria seems to calmly ignore Roumania’s existence. I have reason for believing that some satisfactory agreement will be arrived at in the course of the next month or two. Bulgaria, however, is wide awake and well aware that Roumania is desirous of a slice of her territory from the Danube down to the Black Sea. Only to obtain this would Roumania be party to any alliance regarding Macedonia.
One morning at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Sofia I had audience with the newly appointed Minister, His Excellency Dr. Dimitri Stancioff. He is the coming man of Bulgaria, at one time private secretary to the Prince, and afterwards, as already explained, diplomatic agent in St. Petersburg, where he had an extremely brilliant career.
Of middle height, slim of figure, with dark hair slightly silvered, a keen, rather aquiline face, and sharp eyes, he is a man full of eager activity, quick perception, and indomitable energy.
He had only been in office a few days, and was overwhelmed with work, yet he spared me half an hour for a chat, although certain chiefs of the foreign missions were waiting for audience. In his quiet, sombre, business-like cabinet, he sat behind his littered table, smiling affably and ready to answer any questions I put to him.
“You want to see Bulgaria? Very well, I will give orders that you have good guides, and that you are supplied with all the official information available. Only,” he laughed, “please do not flatter us. We prefer honest criticism.”
He took down a list of the heads of the information I wanted, gave me a cigarette, and then we discussed the future of Bulgaria.