By Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace.
LAIDLAWSTIEL, Oct. 5, 1914.
The Publications Committee of the Victoria League, which is endeavoring
to enlighten the general public on the origin and issues of the war, has
suggested to me that, as Russia is now in alliance with us, I might
write an article on her recent advance in civilization and the ideals of
her people. To condense satisfactorily such a big subject into a few
pages seems to me hardly possible; but, considering that we are embarked
on a great national undertaking in which it is the sacred duty of every
loyal subject to lend a hand according to his abilities, I cannot refuse
to comply with the committee's suggestion.
To many thoughtful observers of current events it must seem strange that
in the present worldwide convulsion we should be fighting vigorously on
the same side as Russia, who has long been regarded as one of our
natural enemies. Some worthy people may even feel qualms of conscience
at finding themselves in such questionable company, and may be disposed
to inquire how far we are politically and morally justified in thus
putting aside, even for a time, our traditional convictions. It is
mainly for the benefit of such conscientious doubters, who deserve
sympathy, that I have undertaken my present task; and I propose to place
before them certain facts and considerations which may help them in
their difficulties. For this purpose, I begin by examining the grounds
on which the traditional conceptions are founded.
If we were to question a dozen fairly intelligent, educated Englishmen
why Russia has usually been regarded as a hereditary enemy and an
impossible ally, they would probably give two main reasons: First, that
she is the modern stronghold of barbarism, ignorance and tyrannical
government, and, secondly, that she threatens our interests in
Southeastern Europe and Central Asia. Let us examine dispassionately
these two contentions.
As to barbarism, there is no doubt that in the general march of
civilization Russia long remained far behind her West European sisters
and that she has not yet quite overtaken them, but it should be
remembered--and here I appeal to the Englishman's proverbial love of
fair play--that she did not get a fair start. Living on an immense plain
which stretches far into Asia, her population was for centuries
constantly exposed to the incursions of lawless, predatory hordes, and
this life-and-death struggle culminated in the so-called Mongol
domination, during which her native princes were tributary vassals of
the great Tartar Khan. Under such circumstances she could hardly be
expected to make much social progress, and she was further impeded by
difficulties of intercourse with the more favored nations of the West,
from whom she was separated by differences of language, customs and
religious beliefs. It was as if Europe had been divided into two halves
by a formidable barrier, which condemned the unfortunate Russians to
isolation. The herculean task of demolishing this barrier was, as we all
know, begun by Peter the Great. He built for himself a new capital on
the northwest frontier of his dominions--the beautiful city on the Neva,
recently christened Petrograd--in order to have, as he expressed it, a
window through which he might look into Europe. He looked into Europe
with very good results, and his successors have done likewise; but the
demolition of the barrier proved a very tedious undertaking, and it was
not completed till comparatively recent times.
The laudable efforts of the Russians to make up for lost time have been
particularly successful during the last fifty years. Immediately after
the Crimean War, which some of us are old enough to remember distinctly,
a new era of progress began. The Czar of that time, Nicholas I., whose
name is still familiar to the present generation, was a patriotic,
chivalrous, well-intentioned man, but unfortunately, as a ruler, he
belonged to the mailed-fist school, delighted in shining armor, and put
his faith largely in drill sergeants. Even in the civil administration
he fostered the spirit of military discipline, and he was at no pains to
conceal his contemptuous dislike of the self-government and
constitutional liberties of other countries. By unsympathetic critics he
has been not inaptly described as "the Don Quixote of Autocracy," and
for thirty years he remained faithful to his principles; but toward the
close of his reign, in his struggle with England and France, he learned
by bitter experience that true national greatness is not to be found in
militarism. This salutary lesson was happily laid to heart by his son
and successor, Alexander II., and the more enlightened of his subjects.
The period of triumphant militarism was accordingly followed by a period
of national repentance, which was also a memorable epoch of beneficent
reforms and genuine progress.
No sooner was peace concluded in 1856 than premonitory symptoms of the
new order of things became apparent in St. Petersburg, in Moscow, and
throughout the country generally. To all who had eyes to see and ears to
hear, the war had proved that if their country was to compete
successfully with its rivals, it must adopt a whole series of
administrative and economic reforms; and there was a general desire that
those reforms should be undertaken as speedily as possible. The young
Czar took the lead in the work of national regeneration, and he had the
good fortune to find sympathy and co-operation among the educated
classes. For the first time in Russian history--for on previous
occasions the efforts of reforming Czars had always encountered a good
deal of passive resistance--the Government and the people were anxious
to aid each other, and the main results may be described as eminently
satisfactory. Three great reforms deserve special mention--the
emancipation of the serfs, the radical reorganization of the civil and
criminal courts, and a great extension of local self-government.
By the emancipation decree of 1861, which had been carefully prepared by
liberal-minded officials in conjunction with local committees of the
landed proprietors, the millions of serfs, who had been habitually
bought and sold with the estates on which they were settled, and who had
known no law except the arbitrary will of their masters, were
transformed suddenly into a class of free and independent citizens! Next
came the reorganization of the judicial administration, by which a
similar beneficent change was effected. In the old times the civil and
criminal tribunals had been hotbeds of bribery and corruption to such an
extent that a satirical author had once ventured to write a comedy with
the significant title, "An Unheard-of Wonder; or, The Honest Clerk of
Court!" Now they were thoroughly cleansed, and during some half a dozen
years, when I traveled about the country in search of information, I
never heard of a Judge suspected of taking bribes. The lawsuits, which
were previously liable to be prolonged for a lifetime, were curtailed by
simplifying the procedure; trial by jury was introduced for criminal
cases; and the condition of the prisoners was greatly improved both
materially and morally. Some of the new prisons were quite excellent. A
big reformatory, for example, founded by a benevolent society in Moscow
and largely supported by voluntary contributions, seemed to me the best
institution of the kind I had ever seen.
Regarding the new system of local self-government, I may say briefly
that I was very favorably impressed by the results. The first time I
followed, as an attentive spectator, the proceedings of a Provincial
Assembly, I was fairly astonished. It was in 1870--only nine years after
the beginning of the great reforms--and already the local affairs were
being discussed, on a footing of perfect equality, by noble landed
proprietors in fashionable European costume and emancipated serfs in
sheepskins. Some of the peasants were very able, unpretentious speakers,
and in one respect they had an advantage over some of their former
masters--they knew thoroughly what they were talking about. While the
frock-coated young gentlemen who had finished their education in a
university or agricultural college were often inclined to deal in
scientific abstractions, their humble colleagues, who had come direct
from the plow, confined themselves to thoroughly practical remarks, and
usually exercised a very beneficial influence on the discussions.
The favorable impressions which I received from this Provincial Assembly
were subsequently confirmed by wider experience, especially when I
worked regularly during a Winter in the head office of the local
administration of the Novgorod province. The chief defect of the new
institutions seemed to me to be the very pardonable habit of attempting
too much, without duly estimating the available resources. This
illustrates a very important national characteristic--intense impatience
to obtain gigantic results in an incredibly short space of time. Unlike
the English, who crawl cautiously along the rugged path of progress,
looking attentively to the right and to the left, and seeking to avoid
obstacles and circumvent opposition by conciliation and compromise, the
Russian dashes boldly into the unknown, keeping his eye fixed on the
distant goal and striving to follow a beeline, regardless of obstacles
and pitfalls. The natural consequence is that his moments of sanguine
enthusiasm are frequently followed by hours of depression bordering on
despair, when he is inclined to attribute his failure to some malign
influence rather than to his own recklessness. When in this depressed
mood the more violent natures are apt to have recourse to extreme
measures.
By bearing in mind this national peculiarity the reader will more easily
understand the strange events which followed close on the heels of the
great reforms which I have just mentioned. Alexander II. was preparing
to advance further along the path on which he had entered so
successfully, when his reforming ardor was suddenly cooled by alarming
symptoms of a widespread revolutionary agitation. Many members of the
young generation, male and female, had imbibed the most advanced
political and socialist theories of France and Germany, and they
imagined that, by putting these into practice, Russia might advance by a
single bound far beyond the more conservative nations and set an example
for imitation to the future generations of humanity! The less violent of
these enthusiasts, recognizing that a certain amount of preparatory work
was necessary, undertook a campaign of propaganda among the lower
classes, as factory workers in the towns and school teachers in the
villages. The more violent, on the contrary, considered that a quicker
and more efficient method of attaining the desired object was the
destruction of autocracy by revolvers and bombs, and several attempts
were accordingly made on the lives of the Czar and his advisers. For
more than ten years, undismayed by these revolutionary manifestations,
Alexander II. clung to his ideas of reform, but at last, in 1881, on the
eve of issuing a decree for the convocation of a National Assembly, he
fell a victim to the bomb throwers.
The practical result of all this was that for the next quarter of a
century no great reforms were initiated, but those already effected were
consolidated, and some progress was made in a quiet, unostentatious way,
especially in the sphere of economic development.
A new period of reform began after the Japanese war, and this time the
reform current took the direction of parliamentary institutions. At
last, after much waiting, the political aspirations of the educated
classes were partially realized, so that Russia has now a Chamber of
Deputies, called the Imperial Duma, freely elected by the people, and an
upper house, called the Imperial Council, whose members are selected
partly by election and partly by nomination.
What strikes a stranger on first entering the Duma is the variety of
costumes, showing plainly that all classes of the population are
represented. There are landed proprietors not unlike English country
squires; long-haired priests in ecclesiastical robes; workingmen from
the factories and peasants from the villages in their Sunday clothes;
one or two Cossacks in uniform; Mussulmans from the Eastern provinces in
semi-Oriental attire. The various nationalities seem to live happily
together--Great Russians, Little Russians, Poles, Lithuanians,
Russo-Germans, Circassians, Tartars, &c. Almost as numerous as the
nationalities are the recognized political parties--Conservatives,
Nationalists, Liberals, Radicals, Labor Members, Social Democrats, and
Socialists. Great liberty of speech is allowed, but the President has
generally no difficulty in keeping order.
Thus, to all appearance, the Duma seems exactly what was required to
complete the edifice of self-government founded fifty years ago; but we
must not suppose that a Constitution not yet ten years old can be as
strong and efficient as a Constitution which has gradually emerged from
centuries of political struggle. In other words, the Russian Duma
differs in many respects from the British House of Commons. One
fundamental difference may be cited by way of example. In England, as
all the world knows, the Cabinet is practically chosen by the party
which happens to be predominant for the moment, and as soon as it fails
to command a majority it must resign; whereas in Russia, as in Germany,
the Cabinet is nominated by the Emperor. This is, of course, a very
important difference, and all to our advantage, but it is not so great
in practice as in theory. The Czar, though free theoretically to choose
his Ministers as he pleases, must choose such men as can obtain a
working majority in the Assembly; otherwise, the whole parliamentary
machinery comes to a standstill. Such a deadlock actually occurred in
the First Duma. Smarting under the humiliation of the Japanese war,
attributing the defeats to the incurable incapacity of the Supreme
Government, and believing that the old system had become too weak to
withstand a vigorous assault, the majority of the Deputies resolved to
abolish at once the autocratic power and replace it by ultra-democratic
institutions. They accordingly adopted, from the very first day of the
session, an attitude of irreconcilable hostility to the Cabinet, refused
to listen to Ministerial explanations, abstained from all useful
legislative work, and carried their strategy of obstruction so far that
the Government had to take refuge in a dissolution.
For this unfortunate result, which tended to retard the natural growth
of constitutional freedom in Russia, the Government was severely blamed
by many of its critics, but I venture to think that a large share of the
responsibility must be attributed to the unreasonable impatience of the
Deputies and their supporters. In defense of this opinion I might adduce
many strong arguments, but I confine myself to citing a significant
little incident from my personal experience. Happening to meet at dinner
one evening immediately after the dissolution an old friend who had
played a leading part in the policy of obstruction, I took the liberty
of remarking to him that he and his party appeared to me to have
committed a strategical mistake. If they had shown themselves ready to
co-operate with the Government in resisting the dangerous revolutionary
movement and favoring moderate reforms, they might have made for
themselves, in the course of nine or ten years, a very influential
position in the parliamentary system, and might have greatly advanced
the cause of democracy which they had at heart. Here my friend
interrupted me with the exclamation: "Nine or ten years? We can't wait
so long as that!"
The Second Duma was shipwrecked, like its predecessor, through youthful
impatience. Among the Deputies there was a small group of Social
Democrats who attempted to prepare a military insurrection, and when the
conspiracy was discovered there was great reason to fear that the
Government might adopt a reactionary policy; but it happily confined
itself to some changes in the suffrage regulations and a dissolution of
the Chamber, followed by a general election. Since that time the
parliamentary machinery has worked much more smoothly. The Duma has
learned the truth of the old adage that half a loaf is better than no
bread, and on many important subjects, such as the preparation of the
annual budget, it now co-operates loyally with the Ministers. In this
way it gets its half loaf, and the country benefits by the new-born
spirit of compromise.
Before going further, perhaps I ought to warn my readers that I am often
reproached by my Russian friends with taking too favorable a view of the
Duma and of many other things in Russia. To this I usually reply by
taking those friends to task for their habitual pessimism in criticising
themselves and their institutions. Naturally inclined to idealism, and
not possessing sufficient hereditary experience to correct this
tendency, they compare their institutions with ideals which nowhere
exist in the real world, and consequently they condemn them very
severely. The impartial foreigner who wishes to form a true estimate of
these institutions must always take this into account. In spite of the
impassioned philippics to which I have listened hundreds of times from
my Russian friends, I am strongly of opinion that the Russian people
have made in recent years considerable progress in their political
education, and that they will continue to do so in the future.
But how is genuine national progress possible so long as the great mass
of the population are grossly ignorant, conservative, and superstitious?
Here again we must beware of adopting current exaggerations. To begin
with the peasantry, who are by far the most numerous class, we must
admit that they are very far from being well educated, but they are keen
to learn and they gladly send their children to the village schools,
which have been greatly increased and improved in recent years. Another
source of education is the army. Since the introduction of universal
military service every unlettered recruit must learn to read and write.
A third educational agency is the peculiar village organization. As
every head of a family has a house of his own and a share of the
communal land, he is a miniature farmer; and, unlike agricultural
laborers, who need not look much ahead beyond the weekly pay day, he
must make his agricultural and domestic arrangements for an entire year,
under pain of incurring starvation or falling into the clutches of the
usurer. This is in itself a sort of practical education. Then he has to
attend regularly the meetings of the village assembly, at which all
communal affairs are discussed and decided. To this I must add that he
is by no means obstinately conservative. Habitually cautious, he may be
slow to change his traditional habits and methods of cultivation, but he
does change them when he sees, by the experience of his neighbors, that
new methods are more profitable than old ones. Ask any dealer in
improved implements and machines how many he has sold to peasants in a
single year. Or ask any director of a peasant land bank how many
thousand peasants within the area of his activity are purchasing land
outside the communal limits and farming on their own account. If you
desire any further information on this subject, ask any liberal-minded
landed proprietor who takes an interest in the prosperity of his humble
neighbors to describe to you the small credit societies and similar
associations which have recently sprung up in his neighborhood. Nor is
it only in agricultural affairs that the peasants have manifested a
progressive spirit. If you should happen to pass through the industrial
districts around Moscow, you will see many gigantic factories, which
employ thousands of hands. Incredible as it may seem, not a few of these
were founded by unlettered peasants, whose sons and grandsons have
become millionaires.
Let us now go up a step in the social scale and inquire whether those
born in the mercantile class are as progressive as the peasantry.
Formerly they were regarded, and not without reason, as extremely
conservative, and certainly they used to show little sympathy with
education or culture; but in recent years their character has been
profoundly modified by the ever-increasing influx of foreign capital and
foreign enterprise. The upper ranks at least are now being Europeanized
in the best sense of the term, not only in their methods of doing
business, but also in many other respects. Their homes are becoming more
comfortable and elegant according to modern ideas, refinement is
gradually permeating their daily life, and the sons of not a few of them
are being sent abroad to complete their education in universities or
technical colleges.
Compared with the peasantry and the mercantile community, the clergy as
a class do not show signs of great progress, but I must do them the
justice to say that they do not obstruct. Toward science and culture the
Russian Church has always maintained an attitude of neutrality, and it
has rarely troubled the adherents of other confessions by aggressive
missionary propaganda, while among its own flock it has systematically
fostered a spirit of humility and resignation to the Divine will. This
helps to explain the wonderful tolerance habitually shown by all classes
toward people of another faith. I remember once asking a common laborer
what he thought of the Mussulman Tartars among whom he happened to be
living, and his reply, given with evident sincerity, was: "Not a bad
sort of people." "And what about their religion?" I inquired. "Not at
all a bad sort of faith; you see, they received it, like the color of
their skins, from God." He assumed, of course, in his simple piety, that
whatever comes from God must be good.
Why, then, it may be asked, is this tolerance not extended to the Jews?
They complain, and apparently not without reason, that they are subject
to certain disabilities and exposed to persecution in Russia. Thereby
hangs a tale! Peter the Great would not allow Jews to settle in his
dominions on the ground that his single-minded, ignorant subjects could
not compete with a naturally clever race endowed with a marvelous talent
for money-making. Under his successors, by the annexation of Poland,
several millions of Polish Jews became Russian subjects; but the policy
of exclusion, so far as Russia proper is concerned, has been maintained
down to the present day, so that, throughout the purely Russian
provinces, Jews are not yet allowed to settle in the villages. If you
ask the reason, you will probably be told that if a single Jew were
allowed to live in a village, all the Orthodox inhabitants would soon be
deeply in debt to him. In some respects, however, the old regulations
have been relaxed. A certain proportion of Jewish students are admitted
to the universities and higher schools, and such of them as pass their
examinations may settle in the towns and freely exercise their
professions. As a matter of fact, a considerable proportion of the most
capable barristers, physicians, bankers, &c., in Petrograd, Moscow, and
other cities are Jews by race and religion, and I have never heard of
any of them being persecuted. Anti-Semitic feeling, so far as it exists,
has nothing to do with religious beliefs. It is confined to such people
as the trader who suffers from the competition of Jewish rivals, or the
peasant who finds that the money-lender, from whom he has borrowed at a
high rate of interest, exacts rigorously the fulfillment of the
contract. The pillaging of Jewish shops and houses which occurred some
years ago in certain towns of the southwestern provinces and was
graphically described in the English press was due to pecuniary rather
than religious enmity, and was organized by political intriguers.
In order to complete my cursory review of the various social classes
from the point of view of social and political progress, I must say
something of the nobility and gentry; but I need not say much, because
their general character is pretty well known in Western Europe. They are
well educated, highly cultured, remarkably open-minded, most anxious to
acquaint themselves with the latest ideas in science, literature, and
art, and very fond of studying the most advanced foreign theories of
social and political development, with a view to applying them to their
own country. Thus it may safely be asserted that they are unquestionably
progressive. They are, in fact, more disposed to rush forward regardless
of consequences than to lag behind in the race, so that their impatience
has sometimes to be restrained in the sphere of politics by the
Government. This brings us face to face with the important question as
to how far the Government and the Supreme Ruler are favorable to
national progress and enlightenment.
The antiquated idea that Czars are always heartless tyrants who devote
much of their time to sending troublesome subjects to Siberia is now
happily pretty well exploded, but the average Englishman is still
reluctant to admit that an avowedly autocratic Government may be, in
certain circumstances, a useful institution. There is no doubt, however,
that in the gigantic work of raising Russia to her present level of
civilization the Czars have played a most important part. As for the
present Czar, he has followed, in a humane spirit, the best traditions
of his ancestors. Any one who has had opportunities of studying closely
his character and aims, and who knows the difficulties with which he has
had to contend, can hardly fail to regard him with sympathy and
admiration. Among the qualities which should commend him to Englishmen
are his scrupulous honesty and genuine truthfulness. Of these--were I
not restrained by fear of committing a breach of confidence--I might
give some interesting illustrations.
As a ruler Nicholas II. habitually takes a keen, sympathetic interest in
the material and moral progress of his country, and is ever ready to
listen attentively and patiently to those who are presumably competent
to offer sound advice on the subject. At the same time he is very
prudent in action, and this happy combination of zeal and caution, which
distinguishes him from his too impetuous countrymen, has been signally
displayed in recent years. During the revolutionary agitation which
followed close on the disastrous Japanese war, when the impetuous
would-be reformers wished to overturn the whole existing fabric of
administration, and the timid counselors recommended vigorous retrograde
measures, he wisely steered a middle course, which has resulted in the
creation of a moderate form of parliamentary institutions. That seems to
indicate that Nicholas II. has something of the typical Englishman's
love of compromise.
So much for the first of the two reasons commonly adduced to prove that
Russia is an undesirable ally. I trust I have said enough to show that
the idea of her being the great modern stronghold of barbarism,
ignorance, and tyrannical government is very far from the truth. Now I
come to the second reason--that she has repeatedly threatened our
interests in the past and is sure to threaten them in the future because
she has an insatiable territorial appetite.
That Russia has a formidable territorial appetite cannot be denied, but
it ill becomes us Britishers to reproach her on that score, because, if
we may judge by results, our own territorial appetite is at least
equally formidable. Like her, we began our national life with a very
modest amount of territory, and now the British Empire is considerably
larger than the Empire of the Czars. According to recent trustworthy
statistics, the former contains over 13,000,000 square miles, and the
latter less than 8,500,000. To this I may add that the motives and
methods of annexation have a strong family resemblance. Both of us have
been urged forward partly by rapidly increasing population and partly by
national ambition; and both of us have systematically added to our
dominions, partly by colonization and partly by conquest. As examples of
colonizing expansion we may take Siberia and Australia, and as examples
of expansion by conquest we may point to Russian Central Asia and
British India.
Fortunately for the peace of the world, the two spheres of expansion
long lay wide apart. The Russians, as a continental nation hemmed in by
no natural frontiers, naturally overflowed into adjacent thinly peopled
territory and spread out very much as a drop of oil spreads out on soft
paper; while we, being islanders with an adventurous seafaring
population, chose our fields of colonization and conquest in various
distant regions of the globe. Thus, until comparatively recent times, we
had no occasion to come into conflict with our rivals, or, to speak more
accurately, the two nations were not rivals at all. Now, it is true, we
have approached within striking distance of each other, and there is
some danger of our coming into hostile contact. Of this danger and the
possibility of averting it I shall speak presently, but meanwhile I must
make a little digression in order to anticipate an objection that may be
made to the foregoing remarks.
Some conscientious inquirer, while admitting that there is a certain
resemblance between British and Russian territorial expansion, may
reasonably point to some important differences in the results. The
expansion of England, he may say, has resulted in spreading over the
world the benefits of civilization and freedom; her more important
colonies have grown into self-governing sister nations, who are showing
their loyalty and affection for the mother country by rushing to her
assistance in the present crisis; at the same time her great Indian
dependency and her Crown Colonies, which do not yet enjoy complete
self-government, are likewise showing their sympathetic appreciation of
the blessings conferred on them by the central power.
In comparison with all this, what has Russia to show? Not so much, I
confess, but she has effected considerable improvements in the annexed
territories. The great plains to the north of the Black Sea, which were
formerly the home of nomadic, predatory tribes, have been brought under
cultivation; the tents of the nomads have been replaced by thriving
villages, flaming blast furnaces, great foundries, and fine towns, such
as Odessa, Taganrog and Rostoff; the Crimea, whose inhabitants once
lived mainly by marauding expeditions and the slave trade, is now a
peaceful and prosperous province; in the Caucasus, which was long the
scene of constant tribal warfare and where the well-to-do inhabitants
were not ashamed to sell their young, beautiful daughters to the Pashas
of Constantinople, permanent order has been everywhere established and
many abuses suppressed; in Siberia, which was little better than a
wilderness, there are now thousands of prosperous farmers, railways and
river steamboats have been constructed, and the mineral resources are
being rapidly developed; thanks to the improvement of communications in
that part of the empire, Peking is now well within a fortnight of
Petrograd. Even in Central Asia there is evidence of improvement; the
Russian military administration, with all its defects, is better than
the native rule which preceded it. Such was, at least, the impression
which I received in semi-Russianized territories like Bokhara and
Samarcand. Thus, while we may be justly proud of our achievements in
imperial consolidation and progress, we may well regard with sympathy
the efforts of our rival in the same direction.
Apologizing for this little digression, I proceed now to consider very
briefly the danger of future conflict between the two great empires
which have come within striking distance of each other.
This danger, as it seems to me, though serious enough, is not so great
as is commonly supposed. We have many interests in common, as our
present alliance proves, and there are only two localities in which a
future conflict is to be apprehended. These are Constantinople and our
Indian frontier.
Napoleon is reported to have said that the nation which occupies
Constantinople must dominate the world. The present occupants have
proved that this dictum is, to say the least, an exaggeration, but there
is no doubt that if Russia possessed the Bosphorus and Dardanelles, her
power, for defensive and offensive purposes, would be greatly increased,
and she might seriously threaten our line of communications with India
through the Suez Canal. This danger, however, is very remote. So many
great powers are interested in preventing her from obtaining such a
commanding position in the Mediterranean, that if she made any
aggressive movement in that direction she would certainly find herself
confronted by a very formidable European coalition.
An attack on our Indian frontier is likewise, I venture to think, a very
improbable contingency. There may possibly be in Russia some political
dreamers who imagine, in their idle hours, that it would be a grand
thing to conquer India, with its teeming millions of inhabitants, and
appropriate the countless wealth which it is falsely supposed to
possess; but I have never met or heard of any serious Russian politician
capable of advocating such a hazardous enterprise. Certainly there is no
immediate danger. When the European struggle in which we are now engaged
is brought to an end, the nations who are taking part in it will husband
their resources for many years before launching into any wild
adventures. Moreover, our position in our great Eastern dependency has
never previously been so secure as it is now. The Government has long
been taking precautionary measures against possible troubles on the
frontier, and in the interior of the country the great mass of the
inhabitants are prosperous and contented. Hindus and Mahommedans alike
are learning to appreciate the benefits of British rule, as is shown by
the fact that in the present crisis the native Princes are generously
placing all the available resources of their States at the disposal of
the Central Government.
An additional security against danger in that quarter is afforded by the
character of the present Czar. His natural disposition is not at all of
the adventurous type, and he will doubtless profit by past experience.
He will not soon forget how he inadvertently drifted into the Japanese
conflict because he let himself be persuaded by ill-informed counselors
that a war with Japan was altogether out of the question. We can hardly
suppose that he will listen to such counselors a second time. Moreover,
he showed on one memorable occasion that he was animated with friendly
sentiments toward England. The incident has hitherto been kept secret,
but may now be divulged. During the South African war a hint came to him
from a foreign potentate that the moment had arrived for clipping
England's wings and that Russia might play a useful part in the
operation by making a military demonstration on the Afghan frontier. To
this suggestion the Czar turned a deaf ear. I am well aware that in
semi-official conversation the foreign potentate in question has
represented the incident in a very different light, but recent
experience has taught us to be chary of accepting literally any
diplomatic assurances coming from that quarter.
On this subject of possible future conflicts with Russia and of the best
means of averting them, I have a great deal more to say, but I have now
reached the limits of the space at my disposal, not to mention the
patience of my readers, I confine myself, therefore, to a single
additional remark. The conflicting interests of the two great empires
are not so irreconcilable as they are often represented, and the chances
of solving the difficult problem by mutually satisfactory compromises
may be greatly increased by cultivating friendly relations with the
power which was formerly our rival and is now happily our ally.