Number of Guns previous to War of 1878-79.
Number of Guns previous to War of 1878-79.
Number of Guns previous to War of 1878-79.
These are believed to be chiefly in Herat and Turkistan.
The number of rifles entered in the Government books as having been issued to the troops are—
Of these 742 English Enfields, 560 English Sniders, and 5,427 muskets, Cabuli Sniders and Enfields, flint muskets, &c., have been given up, leaving 43,146 small-arms in the country.
It is worth noticing that no information could be got as to whence the English rifled carbines, Brunswick rifles, Tower muskets, and cavalry pistols were obtained. The “Brown Besses” were, perhaps, part of those taken in 1841-42. This estimate of arms, it should be remembered, takes no account of the many thousands ofjhezails, native pistols, &c., in the hands of the tribesmen. The totals are sufficiently great to prove that the late Shere Ali had placed Afghanistan on such a military footing, that he may well have believed he could, with the mountain barriers between Cabul and India, defy any force the British could spare to send against him. He was grievously mistaken; his weakness lying in the want of discipline among his troops, and the incapacity of their leaders.
The cost of the army which he had raised and equipped was a serious item in his exchequer accounts, if he ever kept any. Lieutenant Chamberlain computes it at 19,21,195 Cabuli rupees, of which Rs. 17,81,238 went for pay to the army, Rs. 1,20,235 for Arsenal expenses (not including Herat and Turkistan), and Rs. 19,727 for uniform. Considering that Major Hastings, Chief Political Officer here, has calculated the whole revenue of Afghanistan at only Rs. 79,82,390, it will thus appear that nearly one-fourth of the revenue was lavished in military (expenditure. The Amir ought reasonably to have expected his army to have made a better defence of his kingdom against invasion than the weak struggle at Ali Musjid and the Peiwar Kotal. After the present campaign, Afghanistan can never hopeto rise to the position it occupied under Shere Ali. The easy capture of Cabul and 214 guns is a blow that even a Dost Mahomed would find it hard to recover from. Having dealt with the armaments of Afghanistan, there remains the regular army to be considered. We used to hear a good deal, at first, of the regular army of Afghanistan, which Shere Ali had called into being and drilled according to his idea of European tactics. So many “regiments” with a proportionate number of guns were said to be encamped about Cabul, while others were hurrying in from outlying provinces to swell the assembly. Now there had undoubtedly been a determined effort on Shere Ali’s part to make every male in the population subject to the conscription, and the carefully prepared lists we afterwards found proved that the enrolments had been on a large scale. But there was one fault in the organization which told against all the Amir’s efforts,—and that was the want of competent officers to train the thousands of men who were available for the army. Such officers as were equal to their work were chiefly pensioners of the Indian native army, but these could only teach the sowars and infantry their drill, and could scarcely be expected to manœuvre even a brigade in the field. An intelligentmalikonce said to a British officer:—“We can never hope to fight you with success until we are educated.” “Well, why not have schools and colleges, such as the Sircar builds in India for the people?” The answer was one given with a half-contemptuous indignation:—“Not that kind of education; I mean until our army is educated, and our officers can do their work as well as yours.” It was military education the petty chief was craving for, and he was unquestionably right in his aspirations. Shere Ali might be able to distribute Enfield and Snider rifles among his sepoys, fit out batteries with every kind of shot and shell, and teach his men such rudimentary discipline as would enable them to march in fairly good order; but he could never get beyond this. Instead of sending his young nobles to Europe to learn the mysteries of military science, he distributed commands among such favourites as were ready to take them with their emoluments; and occasionally he made a good selection from among men of the stamp of Daoud Shah, soldiers of fortune, whose courage was above suspicion, and who could generally keep an army in order.Then there was the childish desire ever uppermost in the Amir’s mind, of clothing his troops in English uniforms, and his “Army Clothing Department” turned out imitation Highland and Rifle costumes, or old Pandy uniforms by the hundred. The plan might have succeeded if less attention had been paid to dress and more to discipline and musketry. The Afghan does not lack native courage, and in hill warfare he is unrivalled so long as it takes the shape of guerilla fighting; but once he is asked to sink his identity and to become merely a unit in a battalion he loses all self-confidence, and is apt to think more of getting away than of stubbornly holding his ground as he would have done with his own friends, led by his ownmalikor chief. In fact, the late Afghan campaign proved beyond doubt that the Afghan “regulars” had reached that most precarious stage where the men are in a transition state: not yet trained soldiers, but a mob led by strange officers whom they scarcely know, and whom they generally dislike because they are the direct means of imposing the irksomeness of discipline upon them. A tribesman who has never been enrolled is always comforted in action by the thought that if the battle ends disastrously he can make good his escape and probably reach his village in safety, there to play the part of a peaceful peasant proprietor if his civilized enemy visits him afterwards. But the Afghan sepoy is in a very different position: if he is true to his salt he must remain with his regiment and retire in some kind of order, which means to his mind that the pursuing cavalry will have a much better chance of overtaking him. The result of this has been that on nearly every occasion the most obstinate resistance has been offered by tribesmen acting as independent bodies, with no organization, but with a cool courage which made them at times foemen worthy of our steel. To deal more particularly with the merits and weaknesses of the regular troops, and to contrast their work with that of ghazi-led tribesmen, may be of some interest.
Upon Sir Frederick Roberts’s arrival at Charasia, the Herat and other regiments which had been in the neighbourhood of Cabul at the time of the Massacre were induced by Nek Mahomed and other sirdars to oppose the advance of the British force, and a strong position was taken up to prevent the Sang-i-Nawishta defilebeing forced. Guns were placed in position, commands distributed, and an effort made to fight a battle with some approach to European methods. At the same time regiments were strengthened by a number of the city people and by tribesmen from the Chardeh Valley and Koh-Daman. For all practical purposes, however, the action was fought on the Afghan side by regular troops, and the poor show they made against General Baker’s 2,000 men, gave evidence of the weakness before suspected. Our enemy was well armed with Enfield and Snider rifles, had plenty of ammunition, and was in a position which well-trained troops could have held against great odds; and yet on their left Major White, with 100 Highlanders, drove them from their most advanced position, while on their right the 72nd and 5th Ghoorkas, with a few companies of the 5th P.I. and the 23rd Pioneers (supported only by four mountain guns), turned their flank and drove them in confusion back upon Indikee. Their rifle-fire was well sustained and very rapid, but badly directed and not under control, and our men passed safely upwards with the storm of bullets rushing far above their heads. There was no counter-attack made, although we had practically no supports to fall back upon, and any rush would have involved the brigade in a very awkward position. On the road leading to the Sang-i-Nawishtatangithe enemy had twenty-six or thirty guns opposed to our single battery (G-3), and yet our artillery held its own with ease, and succeeded in dismounting some of their Armstrong breech-loaders. Their leaders had shown great patience and skill in placing their guns on commanding points, but the gunners were firing almost at random, as their training was of a superficial kind. Had the ranges been marked out, as at Ali Musjid, they would have done better; but our rapid advance destroyed what little confidence they might have felt in their own weapons.
Again, on October 8th, they were bold enough to engage in an artillery duel, and from Asmai answered our guns on the Sherderwaza, shot for shot. But not a man was wounded by their fire, although round-shot, shrapnel and common shell were all tried by their leaders. From this moment the Afghan army ceased to exist as a real body, yet in the actions which afterwards took place we had always fiercer fighting and much greater determinationshown on the part of the adversary. The sepoys and sowars dispersed to their homes, carrying their arms and ammunition with them, but sinking their drill and discipline and looking upon themselves as once more tribesmen, but better armed than in the days when they had only matchlocks andjhezailsas firearms. The rising in December was not a reorganization of the army, but a gathering of all the fighting-men from Ghazni to Charikar in answer to the appeal of themoollahsto their fanaticism. The short-lived success which followed was due chiefly to the leading of the ghazis, who knew no more of generalship or discipline than our own dhoolie-bearers. Occasionally we saw some sort of marshalling going on in the leading lines, in which the best-armed men were placed, but this was due more to the desire on the part of the leaders to make the most of their strength than to any idea of forming the mob into battalions. Mahomed Jan and Mushk-i-Alam trusted to numbers and to fanaticism, not to discipline, to win their battles, and their trust was fully justified. The losses they suffered were proportionately small. Our artillery could never be concentrated on a particular regiment or squadron, but had to be directed upon men in small scattered groups, or on a line extending for many miles across the country. Again, when the unsuccessful attack upon Sherpur was made, the retreat or rather dispersion of the 50,000 men was so rapid, owing to no regular army being with them, that we were powerless to overtake the fugitives; they had spread themselves broadcast over the country, hidden their arms, and had once more begun to play the part of an innocent peasantry.
The reason for the signal failure of Shere Ali’s system is to be found, as I have said, chiefly in the want of skilled leaders, more particularly of regiments; but there is a further explanation, and one which makes intelligible the comparatively slight losses we suffered when our troops were greatly outnumbered. In our own army, even with all the trouble and care devoted to instructing the men in the principles of musketry, the rifle-fire is deplorably bad; thousands of rounds are expended with very poor results, and company officers grow despondent when volley after volley is fired and no impression is made upon the enemy. If this be the case with our well-disciplined troops, it may be readily believedthat Afghan sepoys are far worse. I learned from one of them in Cabul that although Enfields and Sniders were served out, each man only received three rounds of ammunition per year with which to gain a knowledge of his weapon, and that consequently they knew practically nothing of the capabilities of their rifles. They felt that at close quarters they might possibly hit their man, but at longer ranges they could not hope to shoot well. Their natural steadiness of hand and perfect eyesight, of course, served them in good stead; but position drill, the manipulation and sighting of the rifle, were generally a mystery to them. This was the cause of defeat when opposed to our regiments, though holding positions, such as the Peiwar and Charasia hills, which were capable of grand defence. For a time they fired rapidly and resolutely, but seeing no effect produced, and our skirmishing line always moving forward, they lost heart and abandoned position after position, until they had at last to make a hasty retreat. Again, with the artillery: to each gun issued from the Bala Hissar Arsenal one cartridge was served out, and when this had been fired and the gun had stood the test, no further practice was allowed. Could the gunners hope to attain proficiency under such conditions? This economy of ammunition was doubtless due to the difficulties of manufacture and the necessity of husbanding cartridges; but it was a short-sighted policy, and one which an Amir at all versed in the art of warfare would never have adopted.
If the time should ever arrive when Afghanistan becomes a protected State under the guidance of the Indian Government, and the people should recognize the advantages to be gained by an alliance with the British, the best plan would be, not to create a regular army, but to turn the population into a huge militia. The peasantry would not object to annual trainings, and if the principle were adopted ofissuing breech-loaders only, instructing the men in their use and allowing them a fairly large number of rounds to be fired under the eye of their officers, and not to be retained under any circumstances, a splendid contingent could be formed. The men might retain their rifles, but the reserve ammunition should be stored in such a way that they could not gain access to it. In time of war they would assemble with rifles in their hands,but with empty ammunition pouches; and upon the discretion of our officers would depend the number of rounds to be served out to them. The mercenary army we have raised in India owes its strength to the system of class regiments, and Afghanistan could be similarly dealt with. No combination between Pathans and Hazaras would ever take place, and with the latter kept fully armed and equipped doing garrison duty, the militia could be called out as aLandwehrwhen occasion arose. These ideas may of course seem to some Quixotic, but perhaps before another generation has passed away they may be realized. If the French can reconcile Arabs to serve in the Algerian army, there should be but little difficulty in creating, hereafter, an Afghan militia—always provided that our influence is supreme in the country, and the kingdom enjoying the benefits of our administration.
When the irregular levies come to be considered, we are bound to admit at once that the fanaticism which animates many of their number often makes them formidable enemies. Their ghazis make splendid leaders in an attack. The word “ghazi” has come to mean in Western eyes something very different from its legitimate signification. It originally meant a conqueror, or great hero, and in this sense it is used in modern Turkey. Osman Pasha was dubbed “Ghazi” when his splendid resistance to the Russians saved for a time the fate of his country; and the title is one held in the highest respect by Mahomedans. From “conqueror” the meaning has passed into lower grades, one of the commonest being “a gallant soldier” (especially combating infidels); and at last, in the common course of events, it has been appropriated in the all-comprehensive vocabulary of the English language with a distinct and localized meaning. To us, now, a ghazi is simply a man upon whom fanaticism has had so powerful an effect that all physical fear of death is swamped in his desire to take the life of a Kafir, and, with his soul purified by the blood of the unbeliever, to be translated at once to Paradise. A true ghazi counts no odds too great to face, no danger too menacing to be braved: the certainty of death only adds to his exaltation; and, as in the case of other madmen, desperation and insensibility to consequences add enormously to his muscular powers and endurance.To kill such a man is sometimes so difficult a task at close quarters, that our men have learned to respect their peculiar mode of fighting, and a rifle-bullet at a fair distance checks the ghazi’s course before he can close upon his assailants with the terribly sharp knife he knows so well how to use. If every Afghan were a ghazi, as I once said during the siege of Sherpur, our defences would have been carried, and enormous slaughter would have followed on both sides; but ghazis are few and far between, though a spurious imitation is not uncommon. This imitation is often taken for the real article, whereasbhangor some other stimulant is the motive power, and not desperate fanaticism. The misuse of the word “ghazi” is strikingly seen in the accounts of the last war forty years ago. We are told of bands of ghazis, many thousands strong, harassing the retreating army and cutting off stragglers; and these ghazis are always spoken of as being quite out of the control of Akhbar Khan. If they had been true ghazis they would have made short work of our little army long before it reached the Khurd Cabul. Their fanaticism would have carried them into the midst of the soldiers; for what resistance can be made to madmen who desire death, and have thrown all thoughts of retreat to the winds? Only a few weeks after the dispersion of Mahomed Jan’s army from before Sherpur, absurd alarmist telegrams were circulated in India and England of a gathering of 20,000 ghazis on the Ghazni Road, only fifty miles from Cabul, and another disaster was foretold by every croaker, who found as much comfort in the awful word “ghazi” as did the old woman in many-syllabled Mesopotamia. If that number of ghazis had been within fifty miles of us, we might, indeed, have had our work cut out for us; but not in the whole of Afghanistan could so many be found. It is not given to every man to rise to such a pitch of religious exaltation, and fortunate for an “infidel” army it is not. To see how thousands of ghazis are always being spoken of, one would imagine they were a powerful clan, similar to the Ghilzais, Kohistanis, or Afridis. Just as the shining light of a missionary meeting at home described “zenanamissions” as being missions sent to “Zenana, a district of Northern India, fruitful and densely-populated, but with its wretched inhabitants steeped in heathen ignorance,” so do sensation-mongersdress out these ghazis as a distinct section of Pathans, who gather together in their thousands whenever there is an appeal to arms. To them it would seem as easy to collect ghazis as to gather grapes—and certainly the two products are noteworthy enough in this sterile country—but practical acquaintance with the form fanaticism assumes about Cabul shows only too clearly that out of a crowd of 50,000 armed fanatics, such as lately held Cabul, not one in a hundred rises to the supreme rank of a ghazi. They are not born and bred to the vocation: chance makes them what they are, and our men know that a stray spark of enthusiasm may kindle their fanaticism and send them into our midst. The ghazi in Afghanistan, his true abode, answers to the assassin in Western countries, where enthusiasm in religious or political matters arouses him to shoot a priest at the altar, or stab a king in his palace. How the ghazi, the “conqueror of death,” as he deserves to be called, rises into being may be told with sufficient local colouring to make the story more than commonplace.
An infidel army is in occupation of the country, and under the outward cloak of sudden submission is hidden deep hatred of the intruders on account of race and religion. In every village and hamlet the men listen eagerly to the preaching of themoollahs, who stir up their passions by lying stories of the coming time when their religion will be insulted and theirzenanasviolated by the Kafirs. The appeal is made first to the two objects most precious in the eyes of an Afghan or of any other Mahomedan—his faith and his women. When passions have been deeply enough stirred, themoollahwarms to his work. A Koran, wrapped and rewrapped in silks, and carefully protected from defiling influences, is drawn from the priest’s breast, and every passage imposing upon true Mahomedans the duty of destroying all unbelievers is quoted with vehement eloquence. Themoollahis to these ignorant peasants the link between this world and the next; in him they place all trust; and as they listen to his fierce harangues, they are ready to do all that he requires of them. He is vested with mysterious attributes, rising occasionally to miracle-working; and with quiet assurance he promises that, if they attack the infidels “in the proper spirit and in full faith,” bullets shall turn harmlesslyaside, bayonets shall not pierce them, and their poshteens thrown over the cannon’s mouth shall check shot and shell. The priesthood in all ages have traded upon the credulity of the people, and have abused their power without qualms of conscience to obtain their ends. Is it any more wonderful that an Afghan tribesman, shut out from the wonders of the outer world, should believe the clap-trap of his priest, than that highly-cultured scholars in the full glare of civilization should accept the dogmas of Papal Infallibility, or a crowd of devotees watch with awe-stricken faces the liquefaction, periodically, of the blood of a saint dead and gone ages ago? Yet such things have been in modern Europe, and the world has forgotten to smile. Themoollahis merely a clever trickster in his own sphere, though, like many other priests, he comes often to believe in his own supernatural powers, and then sinks to the level of his followers. And the ghazi is the creature of themoollah. The latter’s eloquence is listened to by some more than usually susceptible villager, whose enthusiasm is aroused to fever heat by a glowing story of a ghazi, who went into the infidel camp, cut down two or three Kafirs, and died the death of a martyr, his soul going straight to the laps of thehouris, and his name living for ever among his kindred. Shall he not emulate such a glorious example, so that his children and his children’s children may hand down his name to all generations as a Ghazi Allah-din—a “Champion of the Faith?” Themoollah’spreaching has had its effect, and a ghazi has been called into being. If a greatjehadis being preached, that man will always be in the forefront of the battle, and will probably carry the standard of his clan, blessed by themoollahwho has aroused the tribesmen. The fiery cross, which was sped from end to end of the Scottish Highlands in the old days, when the call to arms was made, was no more powerful than is the Koran now, carried from village to village by themoollahof Afghanistan. But a few weeks ago the arch-moollah, Mushk-i-Alam, sent out his message from Charkh, and how well it was responded to we are living witnesses. With ghazis in their midst to lead the timorous, andmoollahsalways at hand to fan their fanaticism, Mahomed Jan’s rabble did wonders. How the ghazis acquitted themselves our men well know—many poor fellows to their cost.
In the action in the Chardeh Valley the standard-bearers rushed on even when our cavalry charged, and no more reckless rush was ever made. Many went down, but about them were others equal in desperation. A trooper of the 9th transfixed a man with his lance: the ghazi wriggled up like an eel, grasped the lance with his left hand, and, with one stroke of the knife, cut through the lancer’s hand and the tough shaftasasit had been of tinder. This is not romancing: the trooper is still living, but minus the fingers of his right hand. On the 13th December, when the 92nd Highlanders stormed the Takht-i-Shah Peak, isolated bands of ghazis stood to their posts when their comrades were in full retreat, and were shot and bayoneted in desperate hand-to-hand encounters. On the 14th the ghazis were so prominent that Mahomed Jan owed all his success to their daring leadership up the Asmai Heights, although many a white-clothed figure went down before that success was gained. In the early part of the day the lastsungaron the Asmai Heights was held by a score of these fanatics when all else had fled. The banners were planted on the rude stone walls; and when Colonel Brownlow and the Highlanders made the final rush, the scene was an exciting one. What could be finer than the desperate leap out of thesungarby the ghazi who attacked Lance-Corporal Seller, our first man forward? Nothing but fanatical madness could have drawn a man from the temporary shelter of thesungarwhile there was still a chance of escape down the hill; the ghazi fulfilled hiskismut; so let us hope all is well with him. Then, when the enemy streamed out from Indikee into the Chardeh Valley, and came straight upon the hills held by our troops, their standard-bearers, chiefly ghazis, were well in front, and the rush upwards was led by these men, who at times were 100 yards in front of the main body. When our men were forced back from the conical hill, the ghazis were the first to crown the rocks; and the splendid way in which they planted their standards on the Asmai Heights as the Highlanders and Guides were withdrawn was worthy of all respect. The steady volleys of Colonel Brownlow’s men kept back the main body; but yard by yard, as our soldiers fell back, flags were pushed up from behind protecting rocks, their bearers being at times within fifty paces of our rifles. With such leaders, evencowards must have rushed on, and it must have been a proud moment for the ghazis when they held the crest of the hill, and watched our troops slowly filing off into Sherpur.
They played the same prominent part during the siege, but they were ill-supported, and though a few succeeded once in placing a flag within 250 yards of the corner bastion looking towards Deh-i-Afghan, not a man remained, when night fell, to remove their cherished trophy: our Martinis had proved too fatal at so short a range. In the final assault on December 23rd the fanatical leaders were again in the van; and if they had been followed by the thousands who hung back so irresolutely, then there might have been a hand-to-hand fight in our trenches. In isolated instances, a ghazi would be seen within a few score yards of our defences, only to go down riddled through and through, though one more desperate than his companions reached theabattis, and had begun to pull away the intercepting branches, when he also was shot. To quote more instances of the audacity of the ghazi would be useless. I have said enough to prove his recklessness, and to show that, with an army of such men against us, even our splendid arms and steady discipline might avail nothing. But the true ghazi is a phenomenon—he at least deserves the scientific and sonorous title—and even Afghan fanaticism cannot bring forth many, however great may be the eloquence of themoollahs. Of the more despicable ghazi—the man who runs amuck in an infidel camp or waylays a Kafir in the streets of a city—I have nothing to say. Cabul has been free from such pests, and we do not wish to hear the cry of “ghazi!” raised. The fanatic generally takes so much killing that our revolver ammunition would run short were he to put in an appearance periodically.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Outlook at Cabul in February—Appointment of Mr. Lepel Griffin to be Chief Political Officer—Abdur Rahman Khan in Badakshan—Nek Mahomed in Turkistan—Probable Movements of the Two Sirdars—Biography of Abdur Rahman Khan—His Struggle with Shere Ali—Takes Refuge with the Russians in Turkistan—Sir Richard Pollock’s Estimate of his Character—His Relations with the Russians—Biography of Mushk-i-Alam, theMoollah—His Power over the Tribes—Mahomed Hasan Khan’s Life—His Russian Proclivities—Asmatullah Khan and the Northern Ghilzais—Daoud Shah’s Career—Serves under Akhbar Khan and Shere Ali—Reasons for his Deportation to India.
It would be scarcely worth while to reproduce letters which dealt chiefly with current rumours of Mahomed Jan’s movements, and I will therefore only give extracts sufficient to make clear the course of events. Our Governor of Kohistan was never able to get beyond Baba Kuch Kar, and Mahomed Jan’s agents in Logar, Wardak, and Maidan were constantly heard of. Writing on February 1, I said:—
It seems likely that we shall have to visit Ghazni, which is now the head-quarters of the malcontents, unless some declaration of policy by the Home Government puts an end to our occupation of Cabul. General Roberts has asked for the heavy battery to be sent up from Peshawur, and with three 40-pounders and two 8-inch howitzers, we could batter the Ghazni fortress about the ears of its defenders. In Sherpur the guns captured from the enemy in October are being tried, and a certain number found serviceable are being put in order. Some garrison artillerymen from Peshawur are being sent up, and will form our garrison battery here.
The political dead-lock remains unchanged. Our policy of “benevolent inactivity” has not altogether pleased some of the local sirdars, who are nothing, if not place-hunters. They have seen Wali Mahomed made Governor of Cabul, and no doubt it was expected that positions of “trust” would be assigned to them. But they have been disappointed, and, in return, have vented their anger and disgust by posting four or five seditious placards on thewalls of the city. The tenor of these was to point out how much better off the people were under the old Amirs than under General Roberts, whom they accuse of sinning “through foolishness and ignorance”—perhaps of their own personal wants. Such abuse hurts no one, and can have but little effect upon the popular mind, for there can be no mistake as regards our leniency towards Cabul itself. The appointment of Mr. Lepel Griffin to be Chief Political Officer here has been announced by the Government of India, and has given general satisfaction in cantonments, as the political work now done by the General will be minimized, and his hands will be free to deal more fully with matters purely military. One thing is fervently desired, and that is that Mr. Lepel Griffin will come with a programme of policy in his pocket, as it is too aggravating to have a General and his army in the unpleasant position of a ship at sea without orders: liable to be knocked about by every gale that blows, and yet without any port to make for. The best crew in the world would grow discontented under such circumstances. We have had our buffeting, and have weathered it, and now we should like fair weather and clear instructions as to our future destination.
16th February.
It is rather difficult at present to follow the movements of Abdur Rahman Khan, whose name now is oftener in men’s mouths than that of any other Afghan chief of importance. As I predicted, Abdur Rahman seems likely to play a leading part in Afghanistan, and his reported arrival in Badakshan shows that his influence may be felt upon local politics at any moment. We have always had much trouble in getting news of Turkistan affairs; and though we heard from European telegrams that Abdur Rahman had been dismissed by the Russians, and had started to try his fortunes again in Afghanistan, we could not gain trustworthy reports of his arrival south of the Oxus. Once, it is true, he was said to be at Balkh; but no confirmation of the report was forthcoming, and it was soon disbelieved. Now, at last, we have new accounts of his movements. Merchants in Cabul have received letters from agents at Balkh, in which it is distinctly stated that the exiled son of Mir Afzul Khan is in Badakshan, with 3,000 Turcomans, and is preparing to makegood his claims to the Amirship. Without jumping to any rash conclusions, it may be possible to explain clearly enough the train of circumstances which have brought Abdur Rahman once more to the front. The death of Shere Ali and the accession of Yakub Khan might have tempted him to make another effort for the throne; but without the assistance and countenance of Russia he could scarcely hope to be successful. To raise an army money is needed; and though the Russians were considerate enough to pay the exiled prince a liberal pension, they were too anxious to keep on good terms with England to subsidize a pretender to the Amirship just when the Treaty of Gundamak had been signed. Abdur Rahman may have been convinced, also, that Yakub Khan would never be strong enough to carry out the treaty, and that his downfall, either at the hands of his own subjects or of the British, would leave Cabul open to other competitors. The massacre of our Envoy, the march of Sir F. Roberts’s force upon Cabul, and the dispersion of the rebel army, followed each other so rapidly that the country was paralysed, as far as active resistance went. The flight of Nek Mahomed (uncle of Abdur Rahman) to Russian territory was the signal for the collapse of the Afghan army, and doubtless the fugitive General warned his nephew that, to attempt any campaign while the British were posing as the protectors of Yakub Khan and the conquerors of Cabul would be little short of madness. Besides, if Yakub Khan were to be reinstated, and his rule made secure by a new British alliance, rebellion against him would be full of danger. That, in case of certain contingencies, a plan of action was arranged between Abdur Rahman and Nek Mahomed would appear certain; and it is half-suspected that Russian sympathy was freely extended to them, and a hint given that practical aid would also be afforded when the plan was ripe for execution. They were waiting upon Providence; and the first reward for their patience was the deportation of Yakub Khan to India on December 1st, and the assumption by the British of the temporary sovereignty of Cabul. The Amirship thus became vacant; and Abdur Rahman, as the son of Mir Afzul Khan, eldest son of Dost Mahomed, could fairly lay claim to the throne. Yakub Khan’s son was a mere child; there was no one of any great influence in the British camp who could hopeto be successful as Amir; and who so likely to be welcomed by the people as Abdur Rahman, a favourite alike with the army and the tribes? Thejehadpreached by Mushk-i-Alam, and the temporary success of Mahomed Jan’s army at Sherpur, must have more than ever convinced the exiles that their chance had come and their plan might be put to the test. What that plan was can only be judged by after-events; but its broad outlines seem to have been the raising and equipping of a body of Turcoman horse and the crossing of the Oxus at two points. Abdur Rahman directed his steps towards Badakshan, where his wife’s kinsmen are in power; while Nek Mahomed passed into Turkistan by the Kilif ferry, fifty miles north-west of Balkh. Abdur Rahman’s force is said to have been 2,000 or 3,000 Turcoman horsemen; and his treasure-chest, by native report, contained 12 lakhs of rupees in Bokhara goldtillahswhen he crossed the river. Nek Mahomed’s escort is also made up of Turcomans; and his object seems to be to gain over Gholam Hyder, Governor of Turkistan, while Abdur Rahman raises levies in Badakshan. A powerful combination would thus be formed north of the Hindu Kush; and by the spring, which brings with it the melting of the snows and the opening of the Passes about Charikar and Bamian, the pretender to the throne should have under his orders a well-equipped and numerous army. Perhaps the most important work to be done before Abdur Rahman could move out of Badakshan was the gaining of Gholam Hyder’s co-operation. In a letter written two months ago I showed that the Governor of Turkistan really held only the country south of the Oxus between Aebak and Akcha; a Kirghiz chief having raided into the districts west of Akcha, while the Khan of Kunduz (120 miles east of Balkh) was supreme in the hill-country between Aebak and Badakshan. Gholam Hyder’s power lies mainly in his possession of one or two field batteries, and in having under his orders several regiments of cavalry and infantry, many of whom are well-armed with rifles made on English patterns. From reports which have reached Cabul it would appear that he was very uneasy when the fact of Abdur Rahman’s and Nek Mahomed’s presence to east and west of him became known. He was at first doubtful of their intentions, and, as a precautionary measure, massed his cavalry andguns at Mazar-i-Sharif, one march south-east of Balkh. In the meantime Abdur Rahman, with the aid of his 12 lakhs (of which it is shrewdly suspected that at least half was given to him as a subsidy by the Russians), was making it clear in the eyes of the Badakshanis that his new expedition was something more than a visionary attempt to regain Cabul. One of his wives is a daughter of Jehandar Shah, late Mir of Badakshan, whose son now governs at Faizabad, the capital of this northern province. So successful has Abdur Rahman been, that he has not only won over the Badakshanis, but also the Khan of Kunduz, who has offered him help in his new venture. Rumour also states that Gholam Hyder has cast in his lot with the pretender, and that an amicable meeting between their forces is to take place at Mazar-i-Sharif. Of course it is possible that affairs have not run so smoothly as represented; but still native rumour is wonderfully correct as a rule, and the appearance of Abdur Rahman is a new and most important factor in the Afghan problem. He has with him Ishak Khan, son of Sirdar Azim Khan, who was Amir for a short time when Shere Ali’s fortunes were at their lowest ebb. I have before spoken of Abdur Rahman’s popularity, and his soldierly qualities are universally acknowledged. What his future plans may be can only be conjectured. The timid and characterless sirdars we have now with us are rather alarmed at his approach, and their uneasiness is, perhaps, justifiable. Probably, in the spring, he may march an army from Balkh through Khulm, Aebak, and Saighan to Bamian, or he may try the more easterly route over the Hindu Kush to Charikar and Kohistan. What our course of action will be in such a case I am not prepared to say; but that Abdur Rahman may yet be Amir of Afghanistan is quite within the range of possibility. But for the fatal taint of Russian influence which it is only fair to suppose has affected his character during his stay in Tashkend, he would make a nominee whom we could trust, for his ability is beyond question.
The following is a short sketch of his life—a life which has been stormy even for an Afghan prince. His father was Mahomed Afzul Khan, eldest son of the Dost Mahomed; but on his mother’s side he has Populzai blood in his veins. In 1863-64, when the death of the Dost had rendered the throne vacant, Afzul Khan, aseldest son of the deceased Amir, objected to his claims being set aside in favour of his younger half-brother, Shere Ali, and soon the country was in a state of civil war. Abdur Rahman was placed by his father in charge of Takhtipul, in Turkistan, and showed some genius as a soldier, but was eventually obliged to confess himself beaten by Shere Ali’s forces. He made a half-hearted submission, and, being suspected of still intriguing in favour of his father, was summoned to Cabul. This order he refused to obey; but, dreading the consequences, fled across the Oxus into Bokhara, where many other sirdars had taken refuge. Turkistan was still very unsettled, and Abdur Rahman induced many of the garrison of Balkh to desert Shere Ali and cross into Bokhara. The Amir of that Khanate openly espoused his cause, and aided him in many ways. With a small, but well-equipped, force he at last recrossed the Oxus and made for Akcha, then in charge of Faiz Mahomed Khan. The latter, finding himself unequal to any successful resistance, threw over Shere Ali and united his garrison with the force from Bokhara. The Governor of Turkistan, Fateh Mahomed Khan, was not so easily won over, and resisted the new army. His soldiers, however, proved faithless; and, leaving them to continue their own course of action, he fled from Turkistan. Abdur Rahman thus found himself, in a few weeks, at the head of a fairly powerful army; and, pushing on to Takhtipul, he resumed his old position as Governor. Turkistan had thus fallen easily into his hands, and so striking was his success, that he resolved upon a march to Cabul. His uncle, Azim Khan, a man of some ability, joined him; and Shere Ali, still having with him Afzul Khan, a prisoner, was forced to leave his capital. On the 24th of February Abdur Rahman entered the city without opposition; but he had still to deal with Shere Ali, who was collecting an army in the South. In May the two armies came into collision at Sheikhabad, on the Ghazni Road, and Abdur Rahman gained a complete victory. His father was released, and was proclaimed Amir in place of Shere Ali. But Afzul Khan, a confirmed drunkard, was but a weak and incapable ruler, and his brother, Azim Khan, practically held all power in his hands. Abdur Rahman then, full of energy and flushed with success, tried to counteract his uncle’s schemes; and the quarrel might havewidened into a serious breach between the two had not the presence of Shere Ali, with a second army at Candahar, made it imperative to sink all differences before a common danger. Uncle and nephew again took the field, and marching southwards through Ghazni, met and defeated Shere Ali’s army at Khelat-i-Ghilzai. This was on the 16th of January, 1867. But opposition still had to be encountered, Faiz Mahomed, half-brother of Shere Ali, having raised another army in support of the ex-Amir’s cause. Abdur Rahman was again successful in his military operations, defeating Faiz Mahomed at Kila Allahdad on the 17th September, 1867. But, while thus fighting with invariable success for his father, he had to meet the designs of his uncle, whose ambition was to be himself Amir. Afzul Khan died in Cabul while his son was absent with the army; and when Abdur Rahman returned to the capital, he found his uncle, Azim Khan, in possession of the throne. The old quarrels broke out afresh, Abdur Rahman naturally feeling aggrieved that, after all his successes, the Amirship had slipped through his hands. Again fresh complications in Turkistan saved an open rupture: Abdur Rahman started for the northern province and tried to subdue the Usbeg chiefs. In this he was unsuccessful, the Mir of Maemena, a district between Balkh and Herat, sturdily resisting all attack, and eventually forcing Abdur Rahman to fall back upon Takhtipul. The absence of the young soldier in the north had been Shere Ali’s opportunity. His forces were successful in Western Afghanistan, and he was soonde factoAmir. Abdur Rahman’s position in Turkistan then became untenable; his soldiers, hearing that Shere Ali was once more in possession of Cabul, lost heart and deserted; and in January 1869, in conjunction with Azim Khan, he was once more a fugitive. After Azim Khan had appealed to the Indian Government for help, and had been refused, the two sirdars sought refuge in Persia, and afterwards, in the trans-Oxus Khanates. Azim Khan died in October 1869; and Abdur Rahman, still entertaining his idea of regaining Cabul, went to Khiva. Here his intrigues to raise a force with which to conquer Afghan-Turkistan met with such slight success that he turned his steps to Bokhara. Living as a refugee in that Khanate was Jehandar Shah, ex-Mir of Badakshan. This chief had heartily aided AfzulKhan in his struggle for the throne, and to cement the alliance had given his sister in marriage to Azim Khan, and his daughter to Abdur Rahman. Shere Ali, in August 1869, induced the Badakshan sirdars to depose Jehandar Shah, who was imprisoned in his own capital of Faizabad. He persuaded his late subjects to grant his release, and crossed the Oxus to Kulab, where Abdur Rahman joined him. Their intrigues to gain possession of Badakshan were on the basis of raising a force of Turcomans on the north, while the Mir of Maemena, with an army of Usbegs, co-operated with them from the west through Balkh and Kunduz. The want of money was a great obstacle to success, and Abdur Rahman conceived the idea of supplicating aid from Russia. While Jehandar Shah went to Chitral, to seek aid from Aman-ul-Mulk, chief of that country, Abdur Rahman left Bokhara for Samarcand, and reached Tashkend in May 1870. General Kaufmann received him hospitably, but was deaf to all his appeals for troops to aid him in conquering Afghan-Turkistan. A pension of about £5,000 sterling was assigned to him, but a refusal was given to his request to visit St. Petersburg and represent his case to the Czar. When Schuyler saw him he expressed a confident belief that with £50,000 to raise and equip an army he could once more make himself supreme in Afghanistan. With this one idea in his mind he was saving nine tenths of his pension, and hinted that, under favourable conditions, he might be aided by Russia. Jehandar Shah, after raising an unsuccessful insurrection in Badakshan in 1878, joined his son-in-law at Samarcand in 1875, but has since died.
Of Abdur Rahman’s character I have spoken in a previous letter; and the following estimate of his ability by Sir Richard Pollock, late Commissioner of Peshawur, is worth quoting as somewhat confirming my view. Sir Richard Pollock writes:—“Abdur Rahman was well thought of as a soldier and commander when in charge of the army, but showed less talent for administrative work. He has now lost all his possessions, both at his home and his place of refuge, and has no resources by which he could collect a party. Without help as to money or arms, he could do nothing. If supplied with money by Russia or Bokhara, and promised a backing, he might attempt to recover his position. Probably,such an attempt would be unsuccessful, if made in the Amir’s (Shere Ali) lifetime. If later, after the Amir’s death, and when Turkistan had Mir Alam Khan as Governor, or some equally corrupt, incapable person, the issue might be in Abdur Rahman’s favour, as far as Turkistan is concerned. On the Amir’s death such an attempt may be looked upon as likely, unless a good Governor should previously have taken Mir Alam’s place. Abdur Rahman’s influence has already declined rapidly, and fortune is never likely to favour him again to the extent it did when he was fighting for Azim and Afzul. There was strong sympathy on the part of the nation for the elder sons, who had been set aside by the Dost in favour of Shere Ali Khan. Besides, the King of Bokhara afforded assistance, which he is not likely now or later to give.” This memorandum was written before the breach between Shere Ali and the Indian Government; but its remarks are still applicable. Abdur Rahman seems, without doubt, to have been supplied with means by the Russians, and he has an “incapable person” Governor of Turkistan—Gholam Hyder; so that it would not be unlikely if he possessed himself of the northern province in a few months. The old sympathy in his favour may once more be revived, and we could scarcely dispute his authority, unless we were prepared to begin a campaignviâBamian in the spring. If Abdur Rahman is ambitious enough not only to claim Turkistan, but Cabul also, we shall either have to meet his forces in the field, or to offer him the Amirship and our support in the future. Whether he would prefer England to Russia yet remains to be seen.
What Abdur Rahman’s relations have been with the Russians—and, perhaps, still are—may be judged from a letter, written in May 1878, by Shahgassi Sherdil Khan, then Governor of Afghan-Turkistan. He says:—