CENTRAL ASIA AND THE AFGHAN WAR OF 1878-79
The gradual advance of Russia, and its conquest of the ancient
principalities of Central Asia during the present century, have from
time to time formed subjects of great interest to the people of this
country, chiefly on account of the possible effect of the Russian
approach to the borders of our Indian empire; and, having studied the
question for many years, I propose to give a short summary of its rise,
progress, and present position, more especially from a military point
of view. At the beginning of the century, the southern boundary of
Russia extended from the north of the Caspian by Orenburg and Orsk, and
then across to the old Mongolian city of Semipalatinsk, and was guarded
by a cordon of forts and Cossack outposts. This line was no less than
2,000 miles in length, and abutted on the great Kirghis steppe, and
to a certain extent controlled the tribes pasturing in its vicinity,
but by no means established the hold of Russia on that pathless, and
for the most part lifeless waste. Nevertheless, even in those early
days, we experienced occasional alarms from imaginary invasions of our
Eastern possessions. In 1801 we were threatened with a joint attack of
the French, Persian, and Afghan armies; but finally we made a treaty
with the Shah, in which it was stipulated that 'should an army of the
French nation, actuated by design and deceit,' attempt to establish
themselves in Persia, a conjoint force of English and Persians should
be appointed to put an end to them.
In 1808, another great expedition against the East India Company's
possessions was planned--on paper--between Napoleon and the Emperor
Alexander of Russia; but this danger was also averted by a second
treaty at Teheran in 1809, in which the Shah covenanted 'not to permit
any European force whatever to pass through Persia.' Again, for a third
time, in 1837, we were supposed to be threatened by a combined attack
of Persians, Russians, and Afghans, of which Kaye gives the following
account: 'It was believed,' he says, 'that the danger was great and
imminent. There was a Persian army, under the command of the King of
kings himself, investing Herat, and threatening to march upon Candahar
and Cabul. There were Russian diplomatists and Russian engineers in
his camp, directing the councils of the Shah and the operations of
the siege. The Barukzye sirdars of Afghanistan were intriguing with
the Persian Court; and far out in the distance, beyond the mountains
of the Hindoo Koosh, there was the shadow of a great northern army,
tremendous in its indistinctness, sweeping across the wilds and deserts
of Central Asia towards the frontier of Hindostan.'[109] All these
shadows, however, passed harmlessly away; and the so-called great
northern army, as we now know, but as we did not know then, was the
Russian column of Perofski, consisting of a few thousand men, which
had left Orenburg with a view to chastise the Khan of Khiva, and which
perished from famine and pestilence in the snowy wastes of the Barsuk
desert, north of the Aral.
It was not until 1847, contemporaneously with our final conquest of the
Punjab, that the Russian advances in Central Asia assumed an important
aspect. She had held nominal sway since 1730 over the Kirghis tribes in
the western division of the great steppe; but, except in the vicinity
of Orenburg, had little real control. In 1847-8, however, Russia
erected three fortresses in the heart of the steppe--thus forming a
connecting link with the Sir Daria--and established Fort Aralsk, near
the embouchure of the river. The Russians having thus crossed the
great desert, came permanently into contact with the three khanates of
Central Asia, and their progress and conquests since that date have
been comparatively easy and rapid. The principalities had no military
strength which could long withstand the advance of a great Power, and
the Russians are now predominant in that part of the world, and are
masters on the Aral and Caspian Seas. Drawing a line from east to west,
their outposts are dotted along the crests of the Tian-Shan mountains,
looking down on Kashgar; in the centre their frontier touches the
outlying provinces of Afghanistan which lie to the north of the Hindoo
Koosh; whilst on the west their possessions run along the border of
Persia.
What we have to consider, therefore, is the fact that a great Power,
within the last forty or fifty years, has virtually advanced its
old frontier for many hundred miles southwards, rapidly overrunning
the country like a tidal wave over sands; absorbing decaying
principalities, establishing forts at strategic points, taking
possession of inland seas, routes, and river communications, until its
frontier posts not only approach our own, but are on the confines of
countries with which we are closely associated, and some of which are
more or less under our direct influence and control. Her long line
of frontier is devious, and not always perfectly defined; it wanders
along the crests of mountains, is marked sometimes by the course of
rivers, and occasionally almost lost in pathless deserts. So far as
the principalities themselves are concerned, it is admitted that their
conquest by Russia is an unmixed blessing to the inhabitants. In
their bare outline these changes are certainly matters of interest to
us; but they do not necessarily constitute a great danger. There is
undoubtedly a difference between the present and the past. The military
forces of a great Power are now in comparative proximity to our Indian
empire, and hold ground formerly in possession of governments which,
although usually unfriendly, had no real means of injuring us. We need
not now discuss the causes of Russian activity; whether they have
been the result of the apocryphal will of Peter the Great, or of the
military restlessness and ambition of her generals on the spot, or
the inevitable consequence of collision with half-civilised decaying
States. What we have to consider is the effect on our position in India.
Perhaps the most striking feature is the vast extent of country
absorbed by Russia. From Orenburg in the north to Samarcand in the
south is more than 1,000 miles in a straight line, and from the Caspian
to Kuldja, west to east, about 1,500 miles. Increased military power is
not, however, a necessary result of extended dominion. The annexation
of a country well peopled, fertile, rich, and civilised, and whose
inhabitants are in accord with their new rulers, may give a great
accession of strength, but when none of these conditions are fulfilled,
conquest may lead to military weakness. The population of Central
Asia is not only extremely sparse, but, owing to extensive deserts
and to the vicissitudes of climate, many of the tribes are nomadic in
their habits. The whole population is estimated not to exceed four
millions and a half. When we consider that our empire of India, which
approximately is of about the same geographical area as Russian Central
Asia, contains a population of over 250 millions, we have at once a
striking example presented to us of the difference of the two regions.
The power of conducting military operations on a great scale depends
not only on the resources of the country to be traversed as regards
supplies of food, pasture, fuel, and water, but also on facilities of
communication and transport. In discussing, therefore, the possible
future danger to our Eastern possessions from a further advance of
Russia, the sterility and general characteristics of the country in
which she has established herself, and also the great distance of
her troops from the main resources of the empire, become important
elements for consideration. War is a science which depends for its
success not only on the courage of well armed, disciplined hosts,
and of skilled generals as leaders, but also on the means of rapid
concentration and of bringing up reserves of munitions and _matériel_.
Modern armies are specially tied by such considerations. Now Central
Asia is exceptionally deficient in all these essential requirements,
and these conditions are abiding. It therefore forms a very weak
base of operations against a great empire like India, whose general
characteristics are of an exactly contrary character; and although the
construction in recent years of a railway from the Caspian to Samarcand
will to a certain extent give facility for transport, still it will not
in itself alter the general features of the pathless deserts of which
the greater part of the country consists.
Between the recently conquered provinces of Russia and our empire of
India lies the mountainous country of Afghanistan, inhabited by warlike
tribes of brave, fanatical Mohammedans who certainly have no love
for Russia. In a geographical and indeed in every sense, it is laid
out, as it were, as the natural frontier of an empire. All along its
northern provinces stands the snow-capped range of the Hindoo Koosh,
stretching away from east to west: a line of mountains between 15,000
and 20,000 feet high, with few practicable passes, and even these are
closed in winter. It thus presents for the greater part of its length
a natural barrier against aggression, which a few military works at
the passes would render impregnable. Even as far west as Herat, the
ranges to the north of it are several thousand feet high. But this is
not all. The great ridges which run away in a south-westerly direction
from the Hindoo Koosh, and which, enclosing long narrow valleys of
limited fertility, form the greater part of Afghanistan--all these
present a series of additional natural defences. Afghanistan resembles
Switzerland, but its mountains are higher, its defiles more difficult,
its resources very scanty, and it has no roads properly so called;
so that an enemy advancing from the north can only come in any force
by one route--that is, by skirting the successive ridges where they
sink into the southern deserts. It is indeed remarkable that India is
surrounded for hundreds of miles to the north-west by a vast zone of
barren country, including Afghanistan, Persia, and the principalities;
territories unequalled perhaps in the world for their misery and
desolation; but which, regarded from a purely military point of view,
offer a great impediment to projects of invasion. The Afghans are
poor, but brave, hardy, fanatical, and no doubt somewhat turbulent.
They hate all intruders. In former days the hordes of Asia, composed
chiefly of cavalry, could disregard bases of support and supply, and,
being unencumbered with siege trains or other modern appliances, could
sally out from these desert wastes, and, braving all risks, overflow
the comparatively rich fertile plains of India. But all such incursions
are now happily impossible. Circumstances have entirely altered.
Modern science has so expanded the means of defence that armies of
invasion must necessarily bring with them a corresponding power; and
this entails vast encumbrances, numerous depôts, good roads, and safe
communications.
It now becomes time to consider the military position of our empire in
India, and here we are met at once by conditions the very opposite of
those I have described as prevailing in Central Asia. Whilst Russia
has been engaged for many years past in the almost futile effort of
establishing her power amongst the remains of decaying principalities,
and of introducing civilisation in regions where almost every element
of prosperity is deficient, we have also consolidated our empire in the
East. Order now reigns in India in place of anarchy, the government
of the law has replaced that of the sword, and provinces formerly
almost depopulated by depredations and misrule have become fertile and
prosperous. Life is safe, and religion and property respected. The
value of land has increased; great commercial cities have arisen and
trade flourishes.[110] Good civil government, in causing contentment
to the people and in developing the resources of the country, gives
vast additional strength to our military power. In addition to the
British troops, we maintain highly efficient armies recruited from
the many martial races under our rule, and are able to increase them
almost at will. At the same time, the improved means of communication
by railways, roads, and rivers enable us to concentrate our forces,
supplies, and munitions with comparative ease. It may seem almost
unnecessary to dwell upon facts so well known; but judging from much of
what we often hear and read, the enormous latent strength we possess in
India appears not to be fully appreciated.
We hold a central position of great concentration and power, whilst
that of Russia is necessarily much the opposite; so even were the
two empires in contact, the danger would not be on our side. We are
the great and predominant naval and military power in the East, and
Russia is comparatively the weak one; and there is nothing in the
present aspect and condition of affairs likely to cause any important
alteration in these respects. Russia may not have the wish to attack
us in India, but she has not the power, which is a far more important
consideration. But the two empires are not in contact, or near it. The
most advanced Cossack outpost on the Murghab is several hundred miles
from the Indus; so that, far as the Russians have already advanced, and
far removed as their outposts are from the bases of supply, they have
still a whole continent of very difficult country to traverse before
they would even be in sight of our frontier river and of the plains of
India.
The views on this important question which I had formed and published
years ago, were fully confirmed in 1887 by Sir West Ridgeway, who was
our representative at the Joint Commission, which, between 1885 and
1887, finally marked out the northern frontier of Afghanistan; and
who, from his position and the accurate knowledge he obtained of the
country, was able to give an authoritative opinion. He wrote: 'If any
Russian general were so reckless as to attempt the invasion of India,
and, relying on the single line of lightly constructed rails which
connect the Caspian with the Oxus--and which are liable in summer to
be blocked by the moving sands of the desert, and in winter by the
falling snows of heaven--if, relying on this frail and precarious base,
he were to move an army through the barren plains bordering the Oxus,
and, leaving in his rear the various hostile and excited races of
Central Asia, he were to cross the difficult passes of the Hindoo Koosh
and entangle his army in the barren mountain homes of the fanatical
and treacherous Afghan, then indeed our fortunate generals may well
congratulate themselves that the Lord has delivered the enemy into
their hand. The same objection applies to an invasion of India by the
Herat road. Imagine the plight of the Russian army when it arrived
before our entrenched camp at Candahar, connected, as it would be, by
railway with our immense resources in India. The Russian army would
find itself in a country stripped of supplies and carriage, with a
powerful enemy in its front, and fanatical tribes waging a guerilla war
on its flanks and rear.'[111] Sir West Ridgeway also bore testimony to
the beneficial rule of Russia in Central Asia, and that her officers on
the frontier were conciliatory, moderate gentlemen.
If the foregoing statements and the opinions which I have offered upon
them are sound, then it is evident that our general line of policy
towards the people of Afghanistan is simple and clear. They hold
important outworks, as it were, just outside our frontier; and, whilst
not interfering with their independence, we should do all in our power
not only to maintain the authority of their ruler, the Ameer of Cabul,
but also to keep on friendly terms with the tribes, many of whom,
especially those along our frontier, are more or less independent. Our
policy should be one of conciliation and of subsidies; and although
in dealing with half-civilised, turbulent chiefs and tribes the
beneficial results are achieved slowly, still, year by year, a patient
and forbearing policy will bear good fruit, and indeed is now doing so
in a marked degree. It is important to note that in our dealings with
the Ameer, and in granting him subsidies and arms, we only claimed
in return that his foreign policy should be under our guidance. Our
principle for years past had been that Afghanistan should be strong,
friendly, and independent.
The gradual approach of the Russian frontier towards India led to a
diplomatic correspondence in 1872-3[112] between Lord Granville, then
Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and Prince Gortchakoff, with a
view to a clearer definition of the Afghan frontier north of the Hindoo
Koosh. It was not that the forces of either Power were then on the
ground, nor had the country been accurately surveyed; but the object
was to avoid complications in the future, and it is to be observed that
the Russian Government ultimately acquiesced in all Lord Granville's
proposals as to the provinces and districts which were to be considered
as Afghan territory. Though Russia claimed independence of action so
far as the principalities[113] were concerned, it also fully accepted
the principle that Afghanistan was within the sphere of our influence.
During the period from 1864 to 1876, when Lords Lawrence, Mayo, and
Northbrook were successively Viceroys of India, the general policy
which I have indicated was carefully pursued, but in the latter
year a serious change occurred which eventually led to a great war
in Afghanistan in 1878-9. There were apparently two main causes for
the alteration in the views of the British Government. One was a
restless feeling that we were somewhat in the dark as to the conduct
of affairs in Cabul, and that the then Ameer Shere Ali was becoming
unfriendly; the other that the long range of the Suliman mountains
trans-Indus formed a somewhat insecure border line, and that we should
take possession of some of the passes with a view of establishing what
was called a scientific frontier. In pursuance of the first a violent
effort was made to force English representatives on the Ameer at
Cabul, Candahar, and Herat, a policy known to be specially feared by
the Afghans, and which we had hitherto engaged more than once not to
adopt.[114] In January 1877 an Afghan envoy, Noor Mahomed Khan, held
prolonged meetings with the late Sir Lewis Pelly on the subject at
Peshawur, and begged that the proposal might be dropped. He said: 'Why
all this pressing to send British officers, when you declare that you
have no wish to interfere in the internal affairs of Afghanistan? It
has roused the suspicion of the Ameer.... He is now convinced that to
allow British officers to reside in his country will be to relinquish
his own authority.' ... Again he said: 'Your Government is a powerful
and a great one; ours is a small and weak one. We have long been on
terms of friendship, and the Ameer clings to the skirt of the British
Government, and till his hand be cut off he will not relax his hold
of it.' Sir Lewis Pelly, however, stated that the presence of English
officers in Afghanistan was a _sine quâ non_; and as Lord Lytton, the
Viceroy, had already, in speaking of the position of Shere Ali between
Russia and England, described it as that 'of an earthen pipkin between
two iron pots,' it was evident that no friendly arrangement was likely
to ensue. During 1877 our native agent at Cabul was withdrawn, our
subsidy ceased, and Shere Ali remained in a position of isolation, and
was left to form friendship elsewhere. In fact, we washed our hands of
him and were evidently drifting into war.
As regards the other cause of dispute--the rectification of the
trans-Indus frontier--the opinion of our Government at the time was
that we should march into Afghanistan, and establish what was termed a
strategical triangle between Cabul, Ghuznee and Jellalabad, and thus
guard, as it were, the avenues to India.[115] Being greatly interested
in the proposed military operations at the period in question, I
wrote a letter to the Times,[116] pointing out the serious results
which were likely to ensue on our advance into Afghanistan, and of
which the following are extracts. 'In my opinion such an idea is a
dangerous delusion. Afghanistan is a country of mountains, and the
Suliman range, which forms our boundary, is merely the first of a
series of great ridges running down south-westerly from the Hindoo
Koosh. If we enter the country and merely hold the nearest passes, we
shall at once find ourselves in a maze of mountains, with dozens of
other passes and strong positions in our front. Not only that, but
we shall become involved with other tribes; and as soon as our flag
is seen flying within the Afghan mountains, our influence will begin
to extend, political and military complications will arise, and we
shall inevitably be carried forward.' Alluding to the policy which had
for some years past been followed, I went on to point out that 'the
frontier throughout its length is far quieter now than in the years
gone by. Occasional acts of outrage and robbery are treated as matters
of police. Many of the men of the Afghan tribes beyond the border now
enter our service, and do their duty well.... Therefore, I maintain
that a conciliatory policy has been in a great measure successful,
and was leading straight to the object we had in view, although time,
patience, and forbearance are required before the results become
palpable and confirmed.' Lord Lawrence, the greatest authority then
living on the subject, wrote several letters to the 'Times' in 1878
strongly deprecating our change of policy, and I had the satisfaction
of receiving from him a note expressing his entire agreement with the
military views which I had put forward.
Whilst the two causes I have described gradually led to the
estrangement of the Ameer of Cabul, an additional fear arose in his
mind owing to our dealings with the ruler of the neighbouring country
of Beluchistan.[117] Here also we had for many years past, and amidst
some difficulties, pursued a course of conciliation and subsidies with
the ruler, the Khan of Khelat; one of our objects being to insure
the safe passage of caravans with goods through the Bolam. In 1877,
however, a new treaty having been made, a small British force entered
the country, and, marching through the Pass, occupied and fortified
Quetta, on the borders of Afghanistan, ostensibly as a protection
to our representative. It was, perhaps, only natural under the
circumstances, that Shere Ali should look with some distrust at the
presence of our troops on his immediate southern border, and on the
direct road to Candahar. Matters drifted on during 1878, but Shere Ali
having finally rejected our ultimatum, war was declared in November,
and British troops entered Afghanistan in three columns--one by the
Khyber as far as Jellalabad, the second occupied the Koorum valley,
whilst the third, marching through the Bolam, reached Candahar in
January 1879. These operations were accomplished with comparative ease,
and for the moment our success seemed complete. Shere Ali fled from
Cabul, and died soon afterwards, and his son and successor, Yakoob
Khan, having sued for peace, a treaty was signed in May, the chief
items of which were that we should permanently retain the Koorum and
Pisheen valleys, and also send an English officer with a suitable
escort as our representative at Cabul, Major Cavagnari being selected
for the purpose.[118] So far all seemed well; but in reality the war,
instead of being at an end, was only at its commencement. In September,
Cavagnari and his escort were surrounded and murdered, and the whole
country was disorganised and seething with excitement. The treaty of
peace was torn up,[119] and the Khyber and Koorum columns marched at
once upon Cabul, and after severe fighting established our authority at
the capital.
So completely had these serious and untoward events changed the aspect
of affairs that Lord Lytton, the Viceroy, in January 1880 stated that
we must recognise disintegration as the basis of our policy. The
province of Cabul was to be given over to one Afghan chief, Candahar
to another, and as to Herat, the most flourishing and important
district of all, it was proposed to hand it over to Persia. It is not
necessary to describe the military measures which followed, which were
brilliantly carried out, but towards the close of the campaign we had
about 60,000 men either actually in Afghanistan or on the frontier,
and even then we only commanded the ground on which we stood; whilst
the cost of the war amounted to nearly twenty millions sterling. In
the end, and after much discussion, however, the British Government
reverted to the original policy of a strong, friendly, and independent
Afghanistan; and Abdul Rahman Khan, who had been a refugee for years in
Russian territory, was acknowledged by us as the ruler of the country.
Our forces were withdrawn early in 1881, and the strategical triangle
was, by common consent, consigned to the waste paper basket.[120]
In my opinion the war of 1878-9 was bad in policy and unjust in
principle from beginning to end. It is a matter of history now, but we
not only were fighting against those we ought to have conciliated, but
nearly ended in disintegrating the country and taking a large portion
of it ourselves. Subsequent to the withdrawal of our army the country
became more settled, although the position of Abdul Rahman was for
some time precarious. By our support, financial and other, however,
he slowly established his authority, and has continued on terms of
friendship with our Government.
Reverting to Central Asia, the capture of Merv by the Russians and
their gradual approximation to the northern provinces of Afghanistan,
combined with the somewhat overbearing conduct of their military
subordinates on the spot, led in 1885 to a conflict at Penjdeh between
the Russian and Afghan outposts, which at one time threatened to
lead to a great war. I have already explained that although by the
Granville-Gortchakoff agreement of 1873 the northern Afghan provinces
were settled, their actual boundaries, in the absence of full
information, remained somewhat indefinite. Indeed, in countries chiefly
inhabited by nomadic tribes, wandering about in search of pasture, such
questions are often more or less uncertain. As a proof of the doubtful
nature of the facts at that time, I may point out that in the official
English maps published a few years before the Penjdeh incident, that
hitherto almost unknown village was marked as outside the Afghan
frontier. It would answer no good purpose to re-open a subject which
involved no great principle, and the issues of which were exaggerated
at the time by violent and imprudent language, both in England and
Russia. It was eminently one for diplomatic arrangement and not for
war, and found its solution in the joint Boundary Commission which was
originated by Lord Granville,[121] and brought to a friendly conclusion
in 1887. The Marquis of Salisbury, who was Prime Minister at the time,
alluding to the arrangement, said: 'I believe a more well-balanced
and equable settlement could hardly have been arrived at. There has
been no great sacrifice on either side; but I value the settlement for
this reason, not because I attach much importance to the square miles
of desert with which we have been dealing--and which probably after
ten generations of mankind will not yield the slightest value to any
human being--but because it indicates on both sides that spirit which
in the two Governments is consistent with continued peace.' That, in
my judgment is the spirit in which two great Powers should always be
prepared to act in international disagreements.
One more subject remains, as regards Central Asia, which deserves a
few remarks--that of the Pamirs, on the north eastern confines of
Afghanistan. The country, until recently very little known, is an
elevated desolate plateau ringed round with snowy ridges, and is the
point of junction of the three great mountain ranges--the Himalayas,
the Hindoo Koosh, and the Tian-Shan. The fact that some of the lakes
on this elevated region are over 12,000 feet above the sea is a proof
of its exceptional character. The climate is very severe, and its
inhabitants appear to be chiefly nomadic tribes from Afghanistan,
Russia, and China respectively, who bring their flocks there for
pasture during the three or four summer months. The actual delimitation
of the frontiers, it is understood, is now being amicably arranged
between the Powers concerned. As a base for military operations for an
advance on India, the very nature of the country offers insurmountable
obstacles and hardly needs discussion. I have dealt in some detail with
the subject of Central Asia, as one of great and general interest, and
have endeavoured to explain the military aspect of the case, because it
is the one perhaps not so generally understood. There are people who
say that war, sooner or later, is inevitable. As the late Lord Derby
once very sensibly remarked: 'Of the two I prefer it later.' It appears
to me that there is no cause for war, or indeed probability of it,
between Russia and England in that part of the world; but should such
unfortunately arise, the danger would not lie on our side.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 109: Kaye's _History of the War in Afghanistan in 1838_.]
[Footnote 110: _What England has done for India_, Dr. W. Hunter, 1879.]
[Footnote 111: 'The New Afghan Frontier,' by Col. Sir West Ridgeway,
K.C.S.I., C.B.; _Nineteenth Century_, October 1887.]
[Footnote 112: _Parliamentary Paper_: Central Asia, C 2164, 1878; also
C 699, 1873.]
[Footnote 113: Central Asia, No. 1, 1878.]
[Footnote 114: _Parliamentary Paper_: Afghanistan, 1878.]
[Footnote 115: _Parliamentary Paper_: Afghanistan, No. 2, 1881, C 2811.]
[Footnote 116: _Times_, October 18, 1878.]
[Footnote 117: _Parliamentary Paper_: Beluchistan, February 1878.]
[Footnote 118: Afghanistan, No. 7, 1879, C 2401.]
[Footnote 119: Afghanistan, No. 1, 1881, C 2776, and No. 2, 2811.]
[Footnote 120: _Afghanistan_, 1881, No. 1, pp. 60-87.]
[Footnote 121: _Central Asia_: No. 2, 1885, C 4387; and No. 1, 1887, C
5114.]