It is easier to write about the Russian advance at the present day than
it was a few years back. The ground has been cleared of much of the
rubbish which formerly encumbered it. Not long ago the apologists of
Russia were wont to compare the progress of her arms in Central Asia
with the progress of our own in India. We were warned of a certain law
of nature which impelled civilisation to advance on barbarism, and
were asked to hail with sympathy, rather than view with suspicion, the
extension of a Power which, as it swept on in its resistless course,
diffused the blessings of order, of knowledge, and of commerce over a
vast region hitherto sunk in a savagery of the worst description. But
public opinion is now somewhat changed. No one questions that Russia is
entitled to great credit for the civilising influence that has attended
her progress, for the large benefits she has conferred upon humanity in
her career of conquest through Central Asia. By crushing the Turcoman
raiders, indeed, and by abolishing the slave markets of Khiva and
Bokhara, she has restored peace and prosperity to districts which
were groaning in misery, and has earned the gratitude of thousands of
terror-stricken families. Whatever may happen in the future, she has
gained imperishable glory in the past by her victories of peace along
the desolated frontier of Khorassan; but here the register of her good
deeds must end. To suppose that she launched her forces across the
Caspian in 1869 and engaged in Central Asian warfare with a view to
these beneficent results, is to ignore the whole spirit and character
of her policy. Fortunately there is now no room for misconception. Her
soldiers and statesmen have recently laid bare her springs of action
with a plainness that is almost cynical, but at the same time with
a fulness of detail that must carry conviction to all unprejudiced
minds. It was during the Crimean war, we are told, that Russia first
realised her false position in regard to England. In her schemes of
aggrandisement in Europe she was liable to be met and thwarted at every
turn by British alliances and British influence; and when engaged in
war she was open to our attack in every quarter, in the Black Sea,
the Sea of Azof, the Baltic, or the coast of Georgia, without any
possibility of retaliation. If she was to develop in due course, as
had so often been predicted, into the leading Power of the world, it
was thus absolutely necessary that the inequality complained of should
be redressed. Some weak point in our armor must be discovered. Some
means must be found to shatter the palladium of our insular security.
Hence there arose the idea of creating a great Oriental satrapy, under
Russian administration, which should envelop the north-west frontier of
our Indian Empire, and from which, as occasion might arise, pressure
could be exerted, or, if necessary, armed demonstrations might issue,
which would neutralise British opposition in Europe, and would place
our policy on the Bosphorus or elsewhere in subordination to her
own. In former times, as is well known, elaborate schemes have been
discussed at St. Petersburg for the actual invasion of India, and, if
we may judge from the utterances of the Moscow press and the fervid
letters of certain Russian generals, the same exalted ideas still
prevail in many military circles; but assuredly no such extravagance
has been apparent in the careful plan of trans-Caspian operations
hitherto adopted by the Russian Government, which has, on the contrary,
been of the soberest and most practical character.
The end in view has been simply to arrive by gradual accretion of
territory at the frontier of India. In pursuance of this object Russia
has incurred expense without any immediate prospect of return, to
an extent which has filled economists with dismay; fifty millions
sterling, at least, having been expended by her in Central Asia during
the last twenty-five years. Native rights at the same time have been
mercilessly trampled on, and, above all, diplomacy has pushed its
privilege of deception far beyond the bounds hitherto recognised as
legitimate; but success, which condones all such irregularities, has
rewarded her efforts, and the crisis has now arrived, almost sooner
than was expected.
A brief summary of the salient points which have marked the persistent
advance of Russia in Central Asia seems to be all that is required
at present. For the first ten years following on the Crimean war
her generals, having crossed the Kirghiz steppes from Orenburg,
were gradually feeling their way along the valley of the Jaxartes.
Creeping up the river, and taking fort after fort and city after
city, they everywhere defeated the rabble soldiery of the Uzbegs,
and finally, in 1867, planted the Russian flag on the famous citadel
of Samarcand, adjoining the mausoleum of Timúr. Here, according to
prearranged design, the progress of the Russian arms was arrested,
pending the approach of co-operating columns from the Caspian; but,
in the meantime, the neighboring Khanate of Bokhara, hitherto the
most important of the Central Asian States, was brought completely
under control, and the influence of Russia was fully and firmly
established on the Oxus. To the westward a still more important series
of operations was now commenced. In 1869 the first Russian detachments
crossed the Caspian, and boldly invaded the country of the Turcomans.
Had such an expedition been carried out in Europe, it would have
been stigmatised as piracy, for there was absolutely no provocation
on the part of the tribesmen, nor even was the formality observed of
declaring war. Coercive measures, without further warning and with
varying success, were directed against the tribes of the neighborhood.
Gradually the sphere of action was extended. Khiva was reduced in 1873,
and then the Tekkehs, the principal tribe of the Turcoman confederacy,
who inhabited the steppe from Kizil-Arvat to Merv, were seriously
attacked. The western division of this tribe, called the Akhals, made
a stout resistance, on one occasion in 1879 beating off the regular
troops led by Lomakin, and seriously imperilling the whole Russian
position. Ultimately, however, in 1880, the renowned Scoboleff, greatly
assisted by the Persian chiefs of Kuchán and Bujnoord, who furnished
carriage and supplies from the adjacent frontier of Khorassan,
penetrated to the heart of the Akhal country and took their stronghold,
Geok Tepeh, by storm. All active opposition then collapsed, and in
due course conciliation, combined with intimidation, being skilfully
employed against the Eastern Tekkehs, who were demoralised by the
subjugation of their brethren in Akhal, and who applied for support
in vain both to Persia and to Cabul, Merv—“the Queen of the East,” as
she has been called—surrendered to Russia in February, 1884, and the
first act of the great Central Asia drama, after twenty-five years of
sustained and energetic action, was brought to a successful close. It
is needless to say that during this long and desperate struggle to
reach and occupy Merv there were many phases which tended to distract
public attention from the main object in view. To many persons who
followed the Russian proceedings with an observant and even friendly
eye—for the atrocities committed by the Turcomans had excited general
indignation against them—the explanation which most commended itself
was, that as Russia had already established an important government in
Turkestan very imperfectly supplied with the means of communication
with the Wolga, she found it indispensable to supplement the northern
line with a more direct and assured route to the west, which route
should traverse the Turcoman steppe _viâ_ Merv and Askabad, and should
thus connect Tashkend and Samarcand with the Caspian. And it is quite
possible that consideration of this nature—which from a strategical
point of view were perfectly sound and proper—may have had some weight
in determining the course of events, combined, as they naturally were,
with a full appreciation of the advantages in respect to prestige and
military power which must accrue from the creation of a new empire in
Central Asia; but I must adhere to my view that neither strategy, nor
lust of conquest, nor military glory, nor any of the thousand and one
motives which in matters of peace and war ordinarily actuate nations,
was the governing principle in directing the Russian advance into
Central Asia. That principle was, I believe, an intense desire to reach
the threshold of India, not for the purpose of direct or immediate
attack, but with a view to political pressure on Great Britain,
with which Power she would thus, for the first time, be brought in
territorial contact.
With this conviction strong on my mind, and with a lively sense of
the inconvenience to India of Russian contiguity, is it surprising
that I should feel constrained to put the following questions? Ought
we to have remained passive while the meshes were thus being woven
round us? Ought we not rather to have impeded by all the means at
our command the passage of the Russian columns from the Caspian to
Merv? There were many such means available. We might have persuaded
Persia, whose jealousy was already excited by the movement of the
Russian columns along her frontier, to interdict that supply of grain
and transport animals from Khorassan which was indispensable to a
successful advance. We might have furnished the Tekkehs of Akhal with
arms and money to resist the invaders. We might have warned the Russian
Government in plain but forcible language that her occupation of Merv
would infallibly lead to war. It is impossible, indeed, to acquit
ourselves of shortcoming in this respect. It is impossible to avoid the
conviction that, by a want of firmness in action as in language, the
crisis which now threatens us has been unduly accelerated. I have no
wish to reopen old sores, or to revive the acrimonious strife of 1881,
when the questions of the evacuation of Candahar and the abandonment
of the Quetta railway were debated with the keenness of political
disagreement, embittered by the virulence of party feeling; nor,
indeed, although strongly advocating at the time the retention of the
Western Afghan capital, and believing as I still do that Russia was
mainly encouraged to advance on Merv by our retirement from Candahar,
am I at all insensible to the solid advantages which resulted from
the adoption by the Government of the day of an opposite course of
action. I freely admit three distinct sources of gain. Firstly, the
considerable expense of maintaining an independent government in
Candahar for the last four years has been saved to the public treasury;
secondly, we have avoided local friction with the Dúrání population,
which might have seriously hampered us under present circumstances;
and, thirdly, we have succeeded during the interval in maintaining
friendly relations with the Amir of Cabul, a result which, according
to the best authorities—I refer especially to Sir Lepel Griffin’s
statement on this head—would have been impossible had he been subjected
to the constant sense of humiliation, as well as to the pecuniary
loss, occasioned by the dismemberment of his kingdom and the continued
presence of a British garrison at Candahar. Yet, admitting the value
of such results, I cannot but think them a poor compensation for the
cramped position, both military and political, in which we now find
ourselves. At any rate, if we were at present established in strength
at Candahar as we were in 1881, with the railway completed to that
town from Sibi, and with a small detachment occupying Girishk on
the Helmend, the improvement in our military position would be at
least equivalent to an additional force of 20,000 men in line should
hostilities really supervene with Russia, whilst the relations we
should have been able to establish during the interval with the Hazáreh
and Parsiwán section of the population—relations which must in the
future constitute our chief element of strength in the country—would
have rendered us almost indifferent to the jealousy and opposition of
the Afghans.
Having thus disposed of all preliminary matter, I now take up the
frontier question, from which arises our present acute misunderstanding
with Russia. Oriental states have notoriously elastic and fluctuating
frontiers, and Afghanistan is no exception to the general rule. At
different periods, indeed, since the institution of the kingdom of
Cabul by Ahmed Shah in 1747, the Afghan power has extended on one side
to Cashmire, on another to Deregez in Khorassan, while to the south it
has stretched into Beluchistan and even to the frontiers of Sinde. More
frequently of late years it has been circumscribed within much narrower
dimensions, and has moreover been disintegrated and broken up into
three distinct chiefships. The normal condition of the kingdom may be
considered to be such as it presented on Shir Ali Khan’s accession to
power in 1868, Herat and Candahar being united to Cabul, and the seat
of government being established at the eastern capital. It was shortly
after this, in 1872, that, on the invitation of Russia, who had already
brought Bokhara under her influence, and was exercising a tutelary
direction of her affairs, we undertook, in the interests of Shir Ali
Khan, to specify the northern districts over which we considered that
he was entitled to claim jurisdiction, the object being thus to define
a frontier between the Afghans and Uzbegs, which should obviate in the
future all risk of collision or misunderstanding. As Russia at that
time had no relations whatever with the Turcomans of Merv, it is not
very obvious why it should have been thought necessary to protract
the Afghan frontier beyond the Bokhara limit to the west of the Oxus.
Perhaps the object especially was to protect the Afghan-Uzbeg states of
Andekhúd and Mymeneh, which in the time of Dost Mohammed Khan had been
subject to Bokhara. Perhaps Russia already contemplated the absorption
of Merv, and foresaw that all territory outside of the Afghan boundary
would naturally fall into her own hands. At any rate, the memorandum
of 1872, better known as the Granville-Gortchakoff arrangement, after
defining the Bokhara frontier as far as Khjoa Saleh on the Oxus, went
on to name, as districts to be included in Shir Ali’s dominions,
“Akcheh, Sir-i-Púl, Mymeneh, Shilbergán, and Andekhúd, the latter
of which would be the extreme Afghan possession to the north-west,
the desert beyond belonging to independent tribes of Turcomans;” and
further: “The Western Afghan frontier between the dependencies of
Herat and those of the Persian province of Khorassan is well known
and need not be defined.” Now, however much it may be regretted that
this memorandum, which was evidently drawn up as a mere basis for
negotiation, and not as a formal declaration of territorial rights, was
not more explicit in defining the trace of the line, and especially in
marking the points at which it would cross the Murgháb and abut on the
Heri-rúd, it did at any rate establish two main points of geographical
interest. In the first place, it clearly distinguished between the
independent Turcoman desert to the north and the Afghan hilly country
to the south; and in the second place it naturally, and as a matter of
course, assigned to Afghanistan the “dependencies of Herat” to the west
of the Murgháb, which dependencies again were divided, it was said,
from Persian territory by the “well-known” boundary of the Heri-rúd.
The terms of this agreement were in February 1873 formally accepted by
Russia; and, faulty and irregular as the document is from a diplomatic
point of view, it has quieted all frontier agitation between the Oxus
and Heri-rúd for the last ten years, and would have served the same
purpose for another ten years in advance but for the unfortunate
intrusion of Russia into the controversy as a sequel to her conquest of
Merv.
Russia first reintroduced a discussion on the frontier early in 1882,
suggesting, in the interests of peace and order, that the arrangement
of 1872-3 should, in respect to the western portion of the line, be
complemented by some formal demarcation, determined by actual survey of
the country; but as the Tekkehs were then independent, and there seemed
to be no advantage in encouraging Russia to absorb their territory
up to the line of demarcation, the proposal for a joint commission
of delimitation was received by us at the time with some coldness.
Two years later, in February 1884, affairs having much advanced in
the interim, negotiations were resumed, and in due course (July 1884)
commission _ad hoc_ was appointed, General Lumsden being nominated
by the British Government, and General Zelenoi by the Russian, with
instructions to meet at Serakhs in the following October.
Now, it is quite evident that in the earlier stages of these frontier
discussions the Russian Foreign Office understood the provisions of the
1872-3 arrangement, which were held to govern the later negotiation,
in their natural and common-sense acceptation. The principle of a
distinction between plain and hill was fully recognised, and the phrase
“dependencies of Herat” was held necessarily to include the province
of Badgheis, a tract which extended from the Paropamisus range to
Serakhs, and which had been a dependency of Herat from the time of
the Arab conquest. The line on which the commissioners were to be
engaged is thus everywhere spoken of by M. de Giers and M. Zinovieff
in the preliminary negotiations as a direct line from Khoja Saleh to
Serakhs, or to the neighborhood of Serakhs, and there is no hint of
any deflection of the line to the south. After the annexation of Merv,
however, and especially after M. Lessar had perambulated Badgheis and
made a careful study of the valleys of the Kushk and Murgháb rivers,
larger views appear to have dawned upon the Russian authorities.
Geographical and ethnological conditions were then invented that had
never been thought of before. It was discovered that the Paropamisus
range was the true natural boundary of Herat to the north, that the
district of Badgheis, which lay beyond the range, had been absolved
from its allegiance to Herat by efflux of time, Afghan jurisdiction
having been suspended during the Turcoman raids which had desolated the
district for above fifty years; above all, it was asserted that the
Saryk Turcomans who dwelt at Penj-deh and in the valley of the Kushk,
well within the Afghan border, must be registered as Russian subjects,
because another detachment of the same tribe, who dwelt at Yolatan,
beyond the desert and near Merv, had proffered their allegiance to
the Czar. Questions of principle of such grave moment, it was further
stated, required to be settled by the two European Governments before
the commissioners could enter on their duties, and General Zelenoi was
accordingly, without further explanation or apology, sent to rusticate
at Teflis, regardless of the public convenience or of the respect due
to his colleague, who had been waiting for him for four months on the
Murgháb with an escort of 500 men and a large gathering of attendants
and camp-followers.
The abrupt and discourteous manner in which Russia gave effect to her
altered views, by withdrawing her commissioner, was not calculated to
improve the prospect of an amicable settlement. Other graver matters,
too, soon supervened. Before General Lumsden had arrived at the
Heri-rúd, Russia had pushed forward a patrol to Púl-i-Khatún, about
fifty miles south of Serakhs, thus occupying one of the points on which
the Commission would have had to adjudicate; and subsequently she
extended her advance still further into the “debateable” land, placing
a strong post at Ak Robát, in the very centre of Badgheis, so as to
cut off from the Afghans a famous salt lake which supplies the whole
country with salt as far as Meshed and Askabad, and was thus a valuable
source of revenue; and also taking possession of the pass and ruined
fort of Zulficár, fifty miles south of Púl-i-Khatún, where one of the
favorite tracks of the old Turcoman raiders crossed the Heri-rúd, and
where an Afghan picket was already stationed. This last aggression,
which was later sought to be justified by Russia on the ground of
retaliation for an unauthorised Afghan advance on the Murgháb, brought
the outposts of the two nations into immediate contact, and would
certainly at the time have caused a collision but for General Lumsden’s
urgent remonstrances. On the Murgháb, too, affairs were equally
critical. As long ago as 1883, before the appointment of a frontier
commission was ever thought of, the Amir of Cabul, alarmed by the
Russian proceedings at Merv, had established a strong military post
at Bala Murgháb, in the Jamshídí country,[1] and about fifty miles
short of the Saryk settlement at Penj-deh. This was a purely military
precaution, with no political significance, and could give offence to
no one. In March of the following year, however, the situation was a
good deal altered. Owing to a visit from M. Lessar, who came from Merv
for the express purpose of testing the fidelity of the Saryk Turcomans
to the Amir of Cabul, and who was generally regarded as the forerunner
of a Russian advance, so much alarm was created in the neighborhood
that application was made to the commandant at Bala Murgháb to send a
detachment of his troops to Penj-deh for the protection of the Saryk
tribesmen; and it was fortunate that this requisition was complied
with, for otherwise the chances are that the Afghans would have lost
the place, as the Russians were actually preparing to attack it.
[1] Bala Murgháb, where Sir P. Lumsden and his party have passed the
winter, is apparently built on the site of the old city of _Abshín_,
which was the capital of the _Shárs_ of Gharshistan, a line of princes
of great celebrity in Oriental history. The family was of Persian
descent, and reigned in Gharshistan (the upper valley of the Murgháb)
for nearly two centuries during the Samanide and Ghaznevide dynasties,
the Shar Abu Nasar, who was defeated by Mahomud and died in captivity
at Ghazni in A.H. 406, being one of the most learned men of his time.
The importance of this incident of the Afghan occupation of Penj-deh
has been a good deal exaggerated by Russian partisans, who claim
that the “debateable” land reserved for the adjudication of the
commissioners was thus first invaded by the Afghans; but in reality, as
will be presently explained in detail, no question had ever been raised
in the country as to Penj-deh being outside the jurisdiction of Herat,
previous to M. Lessar’s visit in March 1884, and the Cabul commander
at Bala Murgháb, in ignorance of the appointment of a commission in
Europe to consider any such question, naturally and properly supposed
that he was merely carrying out an arrangement of internal police
in strengthening his northern outpost. As it afterwards turned out,
however, Russia attached the greatest importance to this obscure
position of Penj-deh. Colonel Alikhanoff, indeed, always preferring
action to negotiation, made an attempt to seize it with a detachment
from Merv a few months after its occupation by the Afghans, and only
desisted when he found that he must fight for its possession. There
have been since repeated demonstrations of attack from the northward,
and at the present moment it is the point where a collision between
Russians and Afghans is most to be apprehended, the Saryks of Yolatan
under Russian orders holding Púl-i-Khishti on the Kushk river, while
the Saryks of Penj-deh under Afghan orders hold the neighboring
position of Ak Tepeh, within half a mile’s distance, at the junction
of the Kushk and Murgháb, and peace being only kept between the
rival parties by the presence of our assistant commissioner, Colonel
Ridgeway, who has been directed by Sir P. Lumsden to watch the frontier
with an escort of fifty lancers, as long as he can with safety remain.
It must now be noted, that while local proceedings of this grave
character have been taking place on the Murgháb, diplomacy in Europe
has not been idle. When Russia decided not to send her commissioner to
the frontier pending our acceptance of the new principles which were
to govern the negotiation, she proposed for our consideration a zone
of arbitration within the limits of which the boundary line was to
be drawn. Negotiations on this subject are still proceeding, but no
definite arrangement has been yet arrived at.
It must be patent to all the world that if Russia were pursuing
a really honest policy, and were not striving to make a bargain
especially favorable to her own interests, she would leave the
delimitation commission to decide, according to evidence obtained on
the spot, what was meant in the arrangement of 1872-3 by drawing a
distinction between the Afghan hilly district and the Turcoman desert,
as well as what extent of territory ought to be fairly included within
“the dependencies of Herat.” On these points, which constitute the real
difficulties of the situation, I now propose to make a few general
remarks, repeating the arguments in favor of the Afghan claims which I
have already submitted to the public in another place.[2]
[2] See _Pall Mall Gazette_, March 2, 1885.
Firstly, then, in regard to what is meant by the dependencies of
Herat, the district between the Murgháb and Heri-rúd is known by the
name of Badgheis, not, as has been fancifully suggested, from any
traditional connection with the mythical Bacchus, but rather, as is
stated in the _Bundehesh_, that curious repository of ancient Aryan
legends from the tribe of Vad-keshan, who were probably a subdivision
of the Hiyátheleh or Ephthalities, and who, according to Beladheri,
were first established in the district, in direct dependency on Herat,
by the Sassanian king Firoz in the fifth century A.D. Badgheis, from
its rich and abundant pasturage and its sylvan character, soon became
the favorite appanage of Herat, and the two names have been bracketed
in all history and geography ever since, the Lord of the Eastern
Marches being called, under the Sassanians, the Marzabán of Herat and
Badgheis, and the district in question having followed the fate of
the capital in all subsequent revolutions. The geographers, Istakhrí,
Ibn Haucal, Mokadassi, Edrisi, and their followers to the time of the
Mongol conquest, all describe Badgheis as the most valuable portion
of the Herat territory. Although indifferently supplied with running
streams, and being thus deficient in irrigated lands, particularly in
the northern part of the district, it was on the whole well peopled,
wells and _kahrízes_ (or underground aqueducts) supplying the wants
of the inhabitants. Again, in the southern and eastern portions of
Badgheis, including the northern slopes of the Paropamisus range and
the valley of the Kushk river, the natural beauties of the district
became proverbial. The author of the _Heft Aklím_ describes this part
of Badgheis as a flower-garden of delights, and adds that it contains
a thousand valleys full of trees and streams, each of which would
abundantly supply an army not only with encamping ground but with
grass and water, and fuel and fodder, and all the necessaries of life.
He also alludes to the strong hill forts in the Kaitú range, Naraitú
and others, of which our officers have lately seen the remains, and
thus illustrates the famous passage in the _Bundehesh_ which records
that “Afrasiáb of Tur (the eponym of the Hiyátheleh) used Bakesir
of Badgheis (_Baghshúrde_ of the Arabs; now called Kileh Maúr) as a
stronghold and made his residence within it, and a myriad towns and
villages were erected on its pleasant and prosperous territory,” The
geographers enumerate some ten or twelve considerable towns, which
continued to flourish till the time of the Suffaveans, the capital
being Dehistán (probably modern Gulran or Gurlan), which must have been
founded by the Dahæ when they accompanied the kindred tribe of Tokhari
or Hiyátheleh in their original immigration.
The boundaries of Badgheis seem to have fluctuated according to the
power of the neighboring states, and it is not always easy to verify
the notices of the geographers, owing to the disappearance of the
old names. Still, it is important to note that Hafiz Abrú, who was a
minister of Herat under Shah Rúkh, states categorically that Badgheis
was bounded on the west by the Persian districts of Jam and Serakhs,
thus proving that, at any rate at that period, the district extended
northward up to the confines of the desert. To the east Badgheis was
frequently made to include Merv-er-Rúd (Ak Tepeh), Penj-deh, Baghshúr
(Kileh Maúr), Baún or Bavan (Kara Tepeh), and the entire valley of
the Kushk river, while to the south it was separated from the plain
of Herat, as at present, by a range of hills (now called Barkhút),
the prolongation of the great Paropamisus. Such being the concurrent
testimony of all writers as to the configuration of the country in
antiquity, and Badgheis being so intimately connected with Herat as is
the Campagna with Rome, it is difficult to understand on what grounds
it can now be excluded from Afghan territory as indicated in the
memorandum of 1872. The argument that neither Dost Mohammed Khan, nor
Shir Ali Khan, nor even Abdur Rahman Khan until quite lately, exercised
any effective jurisdiction in the district, or held it in military
subjection, is certainly of no value; for this condition of recent
possession, which at one time did really govern the distribution, was
specially excluded from consideration in determining claims to Afghan
nationality by Prince Gortchakoff’s letter of the 19th of December,
1872; and it would be a monstrous aggravation of the original outrage
if the Turcomans, who had rendered Badgheis uninhabitable for fifty
years, were, in virtue of their forcible interruption of Afghan
government, to become themselves the legal owners of the country.
With regard again to the claims of Russia to inherit through the
Saryk Turcomans, a portion of whom have lately become her subjects,
the pretension is still more preposterous, since her outposts were
not within 500 miles of the disputed territory when in 1872 the
dependencies of Herat were adjudged to Afghanistan. It must be
acknowledged that Badgheis has for the last fifty years been swept and
harried by the Turcoman raiders till not a vestige of habitation has
been left in the district. The land, especially along the Heri-rúd,
is utterly desolate; but who will pretend that violence and outrage
of this exceptional character has obliterated the rights of Herat to
resume possession of the country on the re-establishment of order and
security? In real truth Herat has never abandoned her hold _de jure_
upon Badgheis. The towers along the southern hills, which Macgregor
remarked in 1875, were intended to protect the immediate plain of Herat
from the further incursions of the Tekkeh savages, who suddenly swept
down like a hurricane from the north whenever an opportunity offered,
not to serve as landmarks for the Afghan territorial border; they were
strictly works of internal defence, and as such have no analogy with
the line of border towers along the course of the Heri-rúd, which at
an earlier period had been erected by Kilich Khan, an officer of Shah
Zamán’s, with a view to resist invasion from Persia, and the ruins of
which are still to be seen in a scattered line, extending from Kohsán
to Garmáb in the vicinity of Púl-i-Khatún. Practically, and in so far
as the safety of Herat is concerned, it can make no great difference
if the Russian outposts are stationed at Púl-i-Khatún, or Zulficár,
or at Kohsán. Herat would be equally open to attack from any of these
points, and must rely for protection on its own means of defence; but
it must be remembered that this is not a mere strategical question:
on the contrary we are dealing with the rights and property of an
independent sovereign as the guardian of his interests, and have no
sort of authority to override the one or alienate the other on grounds
of geographical or political convenience. Badgheis is unquestionably
Afghan territory. Rescripts are still extant, addressed to the
inhabitants by the Suddozye kings of Cabul. In 1873 Shir Ali Khan
specifically named Badgheis, in his negotiations with Lord Northbrook,
as an Afghan district which was likely to be overrun by the Turcomans
if these tribes were expelled from Merv by the Russian arms. Again,
in the famous memorandum of 1872, I have a certain knowledge that
the phrase, “dependency of Herat,” was specially intended to cover
Badgheis, and finally the assessment of the district is actually borne
on the Herat register at the present day.
And now with regard to the other point at issue between Russia and
ourselves—the dependency of Penj-deh, which, being situated on
the Murgháb, just before the river issues from the hills, should
belong geographically to Afghanistan, and which, moreover, is at
least forty miles south of a direct line drawn from Serakhs to Khoja
Seleh on the Oxus—a brief summary of its history would seem to be
required. In antiquity Penj-deh was a mere suburb of the great city
of Merver-Rúd, now marked by the ruins of Ak-tepeh. Formed, according
to the geographer Yacút, of five separate villages (whence the name)
on the river Murgháb, which had been gradually consolidated into
a single township under Malik Shah, it was at the time of Yacút’s
visit, in A.H. 617, one of the most flourishing places in Khorassan.
Shortly afterwards it was ruined by the Mongols, and a second time it
was devastated by Timour, but under his successors, and especially
during the reigns of Shah Rúkh and Sultan Hussein Mirza, it again
rose to a state of great prosperity, and ever since, except during
some brief intervals of foreign dominion, it has remained in close
dependency on Herat. When Ahmed Shah Abdalli, on the death of Nadir in
1747, established the kingdom of Cabul, the Kushk and Murgháb valleys
were held by Eymák tribes, Hazárehs, Fírozkohís, and Jamshídís, who
cultivated the lower lands along the rivers and pastured their flocks
over the downs of Badgheis, unmixed with either Afghans or Turcomans,
but paying revenue to Herat in common with all the other tribes who
inhabited the ranges of the Paropamisus.
The earliest Turcoman intruders into the valley were Ersári, from the
Oxus. These nomads first appeared in about 1825, and were shortly
followed by Salors from Yolatan, and somewhat later by detached parties
of Saryks from Merv, all the new visitors, however, acknowledging
the jurisdiction of the local Jamshídí or Hazáreh chief, and paying
their dues to the Afghan ruler of Herat. In 1858 a further dislocation
occurred; the Ersáris, who never liked the Murgháb, returned to the
Oxus, while the Salors and Saryks, retreating before the Tekkehs of
Merv, took their places at Penj-deh. Later still the Salors crossed
over to the Heri-rúd, leaving the Saryks alone in possession of
the lands on the Murgháb and Kushk, where they remain in the same
condition of squatters on Afghan lands to the present day. During all
this long period, that is from the first appearance of the Ersáris at
Penj-deh, an annual tax has been levied on the Turcoman cultivators
and shepherds, either by the local Eymák chiefs—lords of the soil, and
themselves accountable to Herat—or by an officer specially deputed for
the purpose by the Afghan Governor of Herat. The names of the _naibs_,
or deputy governors, who have thus acted in command of the district
are all well known, and in many cases the individuals are still living
to attest their employment at Penj-deh under the Afghans. In fact,
no question was ever raised as to the Afghan right to Penj-deh, or
as to the political condition of the Saryks, until after the Russian
occupation of Merv. The Saryks were Turcoman tribesmen renting Afghan
lands, and during their tenancy accounted as Afghan subjects, precisely
as other divisions of the great Turcoman community who were settled
temporarily in Persia, in Khiva, and in Bokhara, during their sojourn
paid tribute to, and acknowledged the jurisdiction of, those States. If
the Saryks of their own free will desired to quit their Afghan lands at
Penj-deh and in Badgheis and migrate to their former pastures, which
have passed under the rule of Russia, the Afghans could not properly
interfere to prevent them; nor, indeed, with a view to avoiding
friction on the frontier, is it at all clear that an arrangement of
this nature might not be to the advantage of the Herat Government.
But it was wholly indefensible that Russia, on the broad principle of
ethnographical unity, should, as she recently did, demand as a right
the registration of the Saryks as Russian subjects, and should require
the transfer of the lands which they occupied to Russian jurisdiction.
A frontier, too, is now boldly claimed, assigning to Russia Penj-deh,
with all the adjacent lands on the Murgháb and Kuskh, and troops are
moved up the river from Merv to support the claim, at the imminent risk
of provoking collision and thus initiating war.
It remains now to consider the prospect before us in regard to this
momentous alternative of peace or war. To those who, like myself,
have watched the cautious and consistent proceedings of Russia in
Central Asia since the close of the Crimean war, with a growing
presentiment of evil, but still not without a certain admiration
of such determined policy and a warm approval in many cases of the
results, the immediate future presents no special features of mystery
or alarm. The occupation of Merv and the incorporation in the Russian
Empire of the vast hordes who roam the steppes from the Caspian to the
Oxus was but the crowning act of a long series of costly but tentative
enterprises, all leading up to the same much-desired consummation. The
threshold of India was reached. Russian Turcomania was now conterminous
with British Afghanistan, and it only remained to give effect to
the situation in the manner most conducive to Russian interests. It
must be understood, then, that in all the recent discussions between
London and St. Petersburg regarding lines of frontier, work of the
Commission, relations with the tribes, &c., Russia, in prosecution of
those interests, has been guided by three distinct considerations, all
aiming at the strengthening of her position in view to future pressure
upon England. Firstly, she requires the best strategical base available
for immediate demonstration against Herat. As far as actual attack is
concerned, her power would be as formidable if launched from Serakhs or
Merv as if she had already advanced half-way to Herat and were encamped
at Zulficár and Chemen-i-bíd; but in respect to a passive but continued
pressure, no doubt her best position would be on the northern skirts
of the hills which divide Badgheis from Herat, and in full command of
the upper valley of the Kushk. Hence her desire to possess a boundary
line from Zulficár on the Heri-rúd by Chemen-i-bíd to Meruchek on the
Murgháb, and hence the persistency with which she clings to this line,
even at the risk of actual conflict. Secondly, she requires the full
command of the Murgháb and Kushk valleys, not only because the most
direct, and by far the most commodious, road to Herat from her northern
base, the Caspian and Askabad, leads by Merv and Penj-deh, but also
because Penj-deh dominates the communication between Herat and Afghan
Turkestan, and would be thus of the greatest strategical importance
in the event of war between Russia and Cabul. Hence the insistence
with which she clings to Penj-deh and the boldness she has shown in
enveloping the place with her troops, hoping, as it would seem, to
redeem Alikhanoff’s former failure to obtain peaceful possession by
now provoking a disturbance between the Saryks and Afghans which shall
justify her own forcible interposition. And, thirdly, in regard to the
Saryks of Penj-deh, it should be clearly understood that it is not the
tribesmen that Russia principally cares about, but the lands which they
occupy. She is tempting them, no doubt, to declare in her favor by
every means in her power, and she ostentatiously displays before them
the bait that she has now occupied Badgheis as far as Ak Robát, and
thus commands the Salt Lake and the pastures which they have hitherto
enjoyed as Afghan tenants; but if the Afghans were to resume occupation
of Badgheis, and the Saryks were to offer, nevertheless, to migrate
to Merv or the Tejend, it is doubtful whether she would receive them.
The whole controversy, indeed, may be regarded as a sham, or at best
a means to an end, the possession of Penj-deh being the real object
aimed at, on account of its affording such a convenient basis for
threatening, or even for attacking, Herat.
The measures which Russia has taken to carry out the above objects are
of a very grave significance. Although it is known that we have already
recognised the validity of the Afghan claim to Badgheis and Penj-deh,
and are, moreover, pledged to support by our arms the Amir of Cabul,
Abdur Rahman Khan, in the event of an unprovoked aggression on his
territory by a foreign enemy, she has, on the mere ground apparently
that she contests his claim to these districts, advanced her troops
as far as Zulficár, Ak Robát, and Púl-i-Khishti. She has, in fact,
as matters stand at present, superseded the work of the commission.
She has arbitrarily drawn up a line of frontier deciding all the
moot points of jurisdiction in her own favor; and by her military
dispositions she has given evidence that she intends to uphold this
territorial distribution by force of arms. We have in the meantime
done all that was possible with honor to avert hostilities. We have
refused to abandon the hope of a settlement of the frontier dispute
through the agency of the delimitation commission, and we have in
various ways stretched conciliation to the utmost, merely requiring
that no further advance shall be made into the debateable land by the
pickets or patrols on either side, pending negotiation. Although no
formal arrangement to this effect has been agreed to, orders have been
issued to the Russian commanders on the spot, and a sort of truce of
a very temporary character has been thus established; but what is to
be the outcome of this strained position of affairs? The truce cannot
be prolonged indefinitely, and in the meantime any chance collision
between Cossack and Afghan patrols may set the whole country in a
blaze, for considerable reinforcements are said to be marching on
Penj-deh both from Merv and from Herat, and there is much exasperation
of feeling upon either side.
It is, of course, well understood that neither Russia nor England is
desirous of entering on a war at the present time, and if the quarrel
were really what it is ostensibly, it might be safely assumed that
a recourse to arms would be impossible. To suppose, indeed, that
two mighty nations like Russia and England would enter on a serious
conflict, which would cost millions of money and entail the sacrifice
of thousands of lives, upon a paltry squabble regarding a few hundred
square miles of barren desert or a few hundreds of savage Turcomans,
would be a simple absurdity. But the fact is that there are far graver
interests in the background. Russia, in pursuance of her original
design of demonstration against India, will certainly strain every
nerve and encounter very serious risks in order to obtain a frontier
suitable to her purpose. She desires to secure a strong and permanent
position at the foot of the Barkhút hills, not perhaps with a view to
undertaking the siege of Herat, for if such were her object the route
up the Kushk valley would offer a more convenient mode of approach,
but especially in order to increase her prestige among the Turcomans
and Persians, and, if possible, to overawe the Afghans, while at the
same time she would exert a severe and continuous pressure upon India.
This pressure undoubtedly would be very inconvenient to us, entailing,
as it would, the necessity of a constant preparedness for war, and we
should be fully justified in seeking to protect ourselves against it
by every means at our command. Already, for defensive purposes, we
have created a strong and friendly government in Afghanistan, and we
have undertaken to give it our cordial support. If, therefore, Russia
continues to maintain the positions which she has usurped far within
the Afghan limits, and thus permanently violates the integrity of the
country, resisting all negotiation, and even thwarting our efforts
through the commission to effect a compromise, there would seem to
be no alternative but a resort to arms. The Afghans are quite aware
of this, and are prepared to bear the brunt of the attack. The Amir,
with very brief preparation, could probably put 100,000 men into the
field, and supported with an auxiliary British army, which India, it
may be confidently assumed, is ready to supply, would prove at least
as formidable an antagonist as Omar Pasha or Shamil. Fortunately there
is already a small British force under Sir P. Lumsden in the immediate
vicinity of Herat, which in conjunction with the garrison of the city
would be sufficient, it is thought, to protect the place from a Russian
_coup de main_, pending the arrival of British reinforcements; and
it must be borne in mind that if once the die were cast and Russian
supremacy were fairly challenged by us in Central Asia, we might be
joined by unexpected allies. The Turcomans and Uzbegs, though cowed
at present, are not subdued. Persia is incensed at her spoliation by
Russia of the slopes of the Attock and the canals and rice-grounds of
old Serakhs, besides being much alarmed at the gradual envelopment by
Russian arms of her rich and warlike province of Khorassan; and even
Turkey would not be indisposed to strike another blow on behalf of her
ravished provinces, if there were the faintest prospect of success. To
the possibility of European complications I need not allude, but it is
hardly to be doubted that in any general _débâcle_ the balance would be
against Russia and in favor of England.
But it is just possible that at the eleventh hour Russia may listen
to the voice of reason and moderation, and may by timely concession
render the resumption of the work of the commission possible. In that
case war, immediate war, might be avoided. It must not, however, for
a moment be imagined that, unless forced by severe military disaster,
Russia would really abandon the great object of threatening India,
in pursuit of which she has already sacrificed so much treasure and
spilt so much of the best blood of her army. All that we should gain
would be a respite. With her attention riveted on Herat, which would
henceforward become the centrepiece of the Asiatic political tableau,
Russia might be content to withdraw from her present aggressive
attitude, and bide her time at Merv and Serakhs. Our own proceedings
must in any case mainly depend on the issue of the interview which
is about to take place between the Viceroy of India and the Amir
of Cabul. If, as there is every reason to anticipate, a complete
understanding should be arrived at between the two authorities, the
further demonstration against India would be met and checked. The
defences of Herat, under British superintendence, would rapidly
assume the dimensions and completeness befitting the importance of
the position as the frontier fortress of Afghanistan and the “key of
India;” and an auxiliary British garrison might even, if the Amir
required its co-operation, be furnished from India, so as to enable
him to show a bold front to his enemies, or, in case of need, to beat
off attack from the north. Under such circumstances the situation
would very closely resemble that which I ventured to foreshadow in
1874—the only difference, indeed, being that whereas I then proposed,
much to the dismay of the peace party both in England and in India, to
lease Herat and Candahar of the Amir of Cabul, so as to enable Great
Britain to negotiate direct with the Russian Government, in the present
case the normal arrangement of territory would remain unchanged,
and England would merely appear in relation to Herat as the Amir’s
ally and representative. The passage will be found in _England and
Russia in the East_, second edition, 1875, p. 378, and is as follows:
“What this occupation [of Herat] might lead to, it is impossible to
say. Russia might recoil from contact with us, or we might mutually
retire to a convenient distance from each other, or in our respective
positions at Merv and Herat—Russia being able to draw on her European
resources through the Oxus and the Caspian, while a railway through
Candahar connected our advanced garrison with the Indus—we might lay
the foundation of that limitary relationship along the whole line of
frontier, which, although unsuited to the present state of affairs in
Central Asia, must inevitably be the ultimate condition of our joint
dominion in the East.”
P. S. It should be well understood that this article has been drawn up
on the writer’s personal responsibility, and does not in any way commit
the Government to the opinions or line of action which it advocates.—H.
C. R.—_Nineteenth Century._