Though I have endeavoured, by detailing my own experiences in the country, to give an idea of the present condition of Afghanistan and the character of the ruler, one must not forget that we English in the service were on an entirely different footing, as regards the AmÎr, from any of the natives of the country. As outsiders we noted, sometimes with amused, sometimes with painful, interest, many occurrences which, however, concerned us only in the abstract and not in any personal way.

For instance, I have shown that the AmÎr has raised men of the lowest rank, even slaves, to positions nearly the highest in the kingdom. Similarly, men of the highest rank are degraded in a day to nearly the lowest. A high official is one day riding through the streets dressed in velvet and gold, with a great retinue of servants around him: a day or two afterwards, in a shabby coat, he is creeping from door to door to beg a little bread, and I wondered if this state of things were the consequence, or is it the cause, of an Afghan’s utter untrustworthiness, when he is put into a position of responsibility.

As an example:—A man is made Governor of a Province on a very moderate salary, and presently the AmÎr sees him in gorgeous attire, and surrounded by crowds of servants and horses. We, foreigners even, could see that the pay did not run to it—it was impossible; how much more clearly, therefore, could the AmÎr see it, and yet the custom was invariable. After a few years the man is recalled to Kabul to make out a statement of accounts as regards the revenue and taxes of the province. He cannot do it. Forthwith his ill-gotten wealth is put in the Treasury, his finery, and the shawls and diamonds of his wives, in the Government stores, and he finds himself, as he deserved, a beggar or in jail. The sufferers—the men who have been squeezed—are the peasants and traders. When “gentlemen” behave in this way it is not to be wondered at that the AmÎr makes a slave a gentleman.

On the other hand, there are cases, perhaps, as numerous where a man owes his fall not to any rascality of his own, but to the combination and intrigue of his enemies. This, I suppose, must necessarily be under a despotic Government, where one man has supreme power. Be he ever so wise and just a man he cannot know everything, and there being only one man to work upon, a clever scoundrel, who has the entrÉe to the Durbar, and who studies that one man’s disposition and moods, can oust a better man than himself, if he works long enough. Sometimes a man compounds with his enemies: each party knows something incriminating about the other, and both keep silent from mutual fear. This state of things has existed not in the reign of the present AmÎr only, but for generations.

As a spectator I have watched the play many a time; it is interesting, as I said, though apt to be depressing. Sometimes it is simply a comedy; but more often the ending is tragic.

Are these rapid rises and falls to be looked upon as the consequence or are they the cause of the moral condition of the Afghan? The question is an important one, if we are looking forward to a civilized Afghanistan.

Does an Afghan in power, knowing the certainty of a fall, deserved or undeserved, say to himself,

“I have authority now, but sooner or later somebody will undermine me in the AmÎr’s regard. I had better make the most of my power while it lasts: get all I can out of other people, and enjoy myself. The evil day may be long deferred.”

Looking at it in this way, it is possible to imagine that the condition of things is the cause of his behaviour.

On the other hand, is the moral nature of the Afghan utterly hopeless? I do not mean does he lie, steal, murder, and betray, for we know he has done that for ages; but I mean, is the nation incapable of being raised to a higher moral condition?

Their frank open-hearted manner and sense of hospitality; their love of liberty and of home; their faithfulness (sometimes) to a friend in adversity,—I have seen this in spite of widespread treachery; the graceful gratitude for a favour conferred: all these seem to show that the moving spirit of the race was once on a far higher moral plane than it is now, and one would think, therefore, that they are capable of being raised to a condition vastly superior to their present state.

That the AmÎr thinks so is clear, for he has commenced to raise them by a system of education.

To say that Abdurrahman did not come to the throne by chance is to utter a platitude. There was a work to be done that doubtless he only could do. It was essential that the power of the “Barons,” the great chiefs with rival interests, should be broken and their constant feuds ended; that the country should be united under one head; that there should be respect for authority, and thus a possibility established of drawing the people from the slough of ignorance in which they are wallowing. The AmÎr has done and is doing, in this country over which he has acquired nearly absolute control, a grand civilizing work.

Still, one cannot be blind to the fact that the usual evils of a Despotic Government exist:—the instability of every official appointment: the great evil of the “place-seeker” to which I have referred: the oppression of the poor; and the grinding down of the peasants and traders. These are enough to sap the life of any government, for there can be no strength where there is no mutual trust.

It is impossible for the AmÎr, though like Napoleon he employs a complicated system of espionage, it is impossible for him to know all the evil that exists. In the preceding reigns the oppression of the middle and lower classes (the backbone of every country) was far greater than it is now, but the people had the continual excitement of constantly-recurring intertribal wars, when every Afghan is a soldier, to draw their attention away from their own miserable condition. Now, they have time to think, and though their condition is far better than it was, they are beginning to see how bad it is—to make comparisons.

That Afghanistan has during the last ten years made considerable strides toward civilization, there can, I think, be no doubt in the minds of those who have had the opportunity of collecting sufficient facts upon which to base an opinion. And that this progress has been entirely due to the remarkable Prince who is now occupying the throne of Afghanistan—AmÎr Abdurrahman—requires but little proof.

We have only to compare the condition of the country and the “bent” of the people at the present time with their condition a few years ago, to bring out, in a very clear light, the civilizing effect of a far-seeing, strong man’s personality.

AmÎr Abdurrahman is absolute autocrat of Afghanistan. His is now the only influence that has any lasting effect upon the people. There is no Press to guide public opinion. The influence and power of the Priests has been enormously curtailed. The Chief Priest—the Khani Mullah Khan himself—though treated with respect by His Highness, the AmÎr, has scarcely more power, nor does he receive a greater share of attention than one of the Civil magistrates. The opinion of the AmÎr, delivered in open Durbar, is the keynote from which all tunes are played. It is caught up by the Chamberlains, the Court Officials, and Pages; it reaches the bazaars, and soon the people join in the chorus. It is woe to the man who utters a discordant note: people look at him askance and draw out of his neighbourhood. Attention is directed to him, and unless he alters his note he is—dismissed from the choir.

The AmÎr is, as I have said, the Chief of the powerful Durani tribe. This tribe has been from time immemorial more tolerant and more civilized than any other of the tribes of Afghanistan: and from it the native rulers of the country have been invariably drawn. When we consider the AmÎr’s marvellous personal influence, we can but see it is a happy thing that his leaning is towards civilization and justice.

That it is so can be shown.

What was the condition of Afghanistan no further back than the time of his grandfather, AmÎr DÔst Mahomed, the great AmÎr—“AmÎr-i-Kabir”—as the Afghans called him?

DÔst Mahomed was AmÎr of the Kabul Province; his brother Ramdil occupied Kandahar: and Herat was held independently by Shah Mahomed, brother of Shah Shujah. This was in 1835. These chiefs were constantly intriguing with Persia and Russia; and their conflicting interests and personal jealousies brought the country into a condition so unsettled as to be little better than Anarchy. War, and in its train, robbery and murder were so constantly carried on, that it was most unsafe for Afghans, and quite impossible for foreigners, to travel from one city to another. So suddenly did fighting break out, that when travelling, one found one’s self in danger of falling into the thick of it. Caravans—such as ventured to start—made long and wearisome detours to avoid battlefields. The more savage of the Afghan tribes delighted in nothing more than the chances thus offered of unpunished highway robbery and murder.

About the year 1850 DÔst Mahomed succeeded in annexing Turkestan, and in 1854 he managed to evict Ramdil from Kandahar. Meanwhile, in Herat, Shah Kamran succeeded his father, Mahmud; and at his death came his minister, Yar Mahomed. The Persians at once advanced and took Herat: Herat being the key of India—this necessitated British interference. Sultan Jan, brother of DÔst Mahomed, was put in possession. He died in 1862, and there were many claimants for the Chieftainship, each of whom appealed to Persia. DÔst Mahomed therefore advanced with an army, besieged, and took Herat. This was his last act, for he died in his camp a few days after.

While DÔst Mahomed was on the throne it was allowable in Kabul to revile and curse the British openly, and although as a successful Warrior, with bluff, hearty manners, and a free accessibility to his people, he was a popular Monarch, nevertheless, there was not a single act he did which in any way increased the material prosperity of his people. To use the words of a skilled and indefatigable observer of facts, Dr. Bellew, of whom one still hears much in Kabul—“DÔst Mahomed, during his long reign, did nothing to improve the condition or advance the domestic welfare of his people, nor did he introduce a single measure of general benefit to his country. He kept it a close borough of Islam, stationary in the ignorance of the Middle Ages, and pervaded with the religious bigotry of that period, and, to the close of his life he defended that policy as the only one whereby to maintain the independence of the country. His great merit is that he had the sense to perceive his own interest in the British alliance, and he reaped the fruits of his good judgment in the ultimate consolidation of his kingdom. But he was a barbarian, nevertheless.”

Attention has been drawn to a certain resemblance existing between AmÎr Abdurrahman and DÔst Mahomed.

The Hon. G. N. Curzon, speaking at the Society of Arts, remarked that the AmÎr seemed to possess some of the strongest characteristics of his grandfather, DÔst Mahomed. Without doubt this is so; and one may add that to the strong character of DÔst Mahomed, Abdurrahman unites a high degree of education and considerable stores of information—scientific, artistic, and general—acquired from books, from conversation, and from observation during his travels. To the simple manners and free hospitality of DÔst Mahomed, he adds a dignity and kindly courtesy of manner most remarkable in a man of his strong passions, and in one who is constantly surrounded with adulation and flattery. He is readily accessible to his people: and even when suffering from the pangs of gout will listen patiently to the petitions of the poorest of his subjects, and give rapid though just judgments in the cases brought before him.

From my narrative may have been gathered some idea of the steps that the AmÎr has taken to civilize his people and advance them in prosperity. Highway robbery and murder are no longer common in the country; nor is murder or theft in the town. Englishmen—Feringhis—have been, for the last six or seven years, travelling constantly between Kabul and Peshawur, and never has there been the slightest attempt to injure or annoy them. Indeed, for myself I may say that at every halting-place when the villagers brought their sick for me to attend to, I went among them freely, unarmed and unguarded.

That the AmÎr should have used drastic measures to bring the diseased state of the country into a condition nearer approaching health, was without doubt a necessity; mild measures would have been misunderstood and completely disregarded. The savage tribes who haunted certain parts of the highway and gave rise to such by-words as “the valley of death,” were either killed by the AmÎr’s troops, captured and executed, or dispersed.

On the other hand, should a Kabuli wish to start business for himself, he has but to apply to the AmÎr, who will, for a certain number of years, lend him a sum sufficient for his purposes, and this without interest.

I have related in my narrative how that the AmÎr was educating, not merely the Court Pages and the boy soldiers of his Mahomedan regiment, but many others, the sons of gentlemen, whom he was intending for officers in his army.

The educational influence on the Afghans of the AmÎr’s Kabul workshops must be, and is, immense. The natives work in great numbers in the shops, being taught by the English engineers who have from time to time been in the service of His Highness, and by the Hindustani mistris, who have been introduced from Lahore and Bengal.

Not only is war material produced in the workshops, but various handicrafts are practised there. One body of men is doing leather work—copying English and Russian boots of various kinds; making saddles, bridles, belts, and cartridge pouches, portmanteaux, and mule trunks. There are workers in wood—from those who manage the steam saws to those who produce beautiful carved work for cabinets and chairs. There are workers in brass, making vases, candelabra, lamps, and many other things both useful and ornamental. There is another department where they produce tin ware—pots, pans, and cans. The most artistic are perhaps the workers in silver. They make for the AmÎr or Sultana very beautiful things: cups, beakers, beautifully embossed tea-pots, dagger and sword handles, and scabbards. Their work is, however, rarely original. The AmÎr shows them a drawing or gives them a good English model to copy from.

Everything European is now fashionable in Kabul, and European clothing has become more universally worn by the Kabulis than it used to be even at the time I entered the service of the AmÎr. His Highness, therefore, finding that his tailors, though they soon learnt the shape of European garments, had not mastered the difficulties of “fit,” sent for an English tailor to teach them. Classes were held on the subject in the workshops and demonstrations given, with the result that such of the Kabuli tailors who attended greatly improved in their system of “cutting,” and obtained much better prices in the bazaars.

I have already related how that the AmÎr desired me to start an Art class, and with what success the artists learnt to draw.

It would be tedious and almost impossible for me to enumerate all the different kinds of work carried on in the shops; but I think I have said enough to show that the effects of the workshops, apart from the output, must be immense. There are some thousand or fifteen hundred men at work in them; these scatter to their homes at night and carry the wonderful stories of all they see and do to their friends. In fact, the most popular song of the day is one depicting the life of a lad in the shops. It is supposed to be sung by the mother; but it ends somewhat significantly by the workman being caught in the machinery and killed.

One must remember that this educational system of civilizing is being carried on among a race of men who have been known hitherto simply as fighters and robbers, semi-savages, and who, unlike so many of the races of India, have shown but little if any sign that they were capable of being converted into useful producers.

When I say, finally, that the AmÎr offers prizes, and of considerable value, for the best or most original work produced either in the shops or elsewhere, it will be easily understood how much he has at heart the desire to advance his people in knowledge and civilization.

For a man of ordinary intelligence, such as myself, to attempt to analyze the AmÎr’s character would be both presumptuous and futile. His intellect, though perhaps more subtile than profound; and his wide knowledge, though more superficial than real, raise him high above those by whom he is surrounded, and by contrast he shines as a brilliant light among the dull flames of his Courtiers. European in appearance, hearty in manner, with a robe of educated civilization, His Highness is Afghan—an Afghan of the Afghans, and perhaps the finest specimen of his race—but yet an Oriental.

We English in his service, dazzled by the glamour of his strong personality and charmed by the kindly courtesy of his manner, grew to feel an attachment strong and personal to His Highness; but there were those among us of the more observant who felt, as the years passed, that we were but as “Pawns” on the chess-board of this Prince, to be swept off with an unshrinking hand when a move in the game might need it.

Nevertheless, though life at an Oriental Court offers so little that is congenial to the tastes of an educated Englishman; where, indeed, each man strives to harm his neighbour; where truth is not, nor honour; where Vice and Villainy walk at noonday unveiled, such is the fascination of the Man that, had one none to consider but one’s self, the temptation, for his sake, to re-enter the life would be almost irresistible.

THE END.

SIMMONS & BOTTEN, LIMITED, PRINTERS, LONDON.