INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT KRUGER
As is the rule with them everywhere, Englishmen in South Africa speak of
Mr. Kruger with contempt and derision. Unprejudiced Americans and other
foreigners in South Africa admire him for his patriotism, his courage in
opposing the dictatorial policy of England's Colonial Office, and his
efforts to establish a republic as nearly like that of the United States
of America as possible. My desire to see Mr. Kruger was almost
obliterated a week after my arrival in the country by the words of
condemnation which were heaped upon him by Englishmen whenever his name
was mentioned. In nearly every Englishman's mind the name of "Oom Paul"
was a synonym for all that was corrupt and vile; few gave him a word of
commendation.
When I came into the pretty little town of Pretoria, the capital of the
Transvaal, where the President lives and where he mingles daily with the
populace with as much freedom and informality as a country squire, there
was a rapid transformation in my opinion of the man. The Boers worship
their leader; to them he is a second George Washington, and even a few
Englishmen there speak with admiration of him.
The day before my arrival in the town John McCann, of Johannesburg, who
is a former New-Yorker and a friend of the President, informed Mr.
Kruger of my intention to visit Pretoria. The President had refused
interviews to three representatives of influential London newspapers who
had been in the town three months waiting for the opportunity, but he
expressed a desire to see an American.
"The Americans won't lie about me," he said to Mr. McCann. "I want
America to learn our side of the story from me. They have had only the
English point of view." I had scarcely reached my hotel when an
emissary from the President called and made an appointment for me to
meet him in the afternoon. The emissary conducted me to the Government
Building, where the Volksraad was in session, and it required only a
short time for it to become known that a representative from the great
sister republic across the Atlantic desired to learn the truth about the
Boers.
I was overwhelmed with information. Cabinet members, Raad members, the
Commissioner of War, the Postmaster General, the most honoured and
influential men of the republic--men who had more than once risked their
lives in fighting for their country's preservation--gathered around me
and were so eager to have me tell America of the wrongs they had
suffered at the hands of the British that the scene was highly pathetic.
One after another spoke of the severe trials through which their young
republic had passed, the efforts that had been made to disrupt it, and
the constant harassment to which they had been subjected by enemies
working under the cloak of friendship. The majority spoke English, but
such as knew only the Boer taal were given an opportunity by their more
fortunate friends to add to the testimony, and spoke through an
interpreter. Such earnest, such honest conversation it had never been
my lot to hear before. It was a memorable hour that I spent listening
to the plaints of those plain, good-hearted Boers in the heart of South
Africa. It was the voice of the downtrodden, the weak crying out
against the strong.
When the hour of my appointment with the President arrived there was a
unanimous desire among the Boers gathered around to accompany me. It
was finally decided by them that six would be a sufficient number, and
among those chosen were Postmaster-General Van Alpen, who was a
representative at the Postal Congress in Washington several years ago;
Commissioner of Mines P. Kroebler, Commissioner of War J. J. Smidt,
Justice of the Peace Dillingham, and former Commandant-General Stephanne
Schoeman.
When our party reached the little white-washed cottage in which the
President lives a score or more of tall and soil-stained farmers were
standing in a circular group on the low piazza. They were laughing
hilariously at something that had been said by a shorter, fat man who
was nearly hidden from view by the surrounding circle of patriarchs. A
breach in the circle disclosed the President of the republic with his
left arm on the shoulder of a long-whiskered Boer, and his right hand
swinging lightly in the hand of another of his countrymen. It was
democracy in its highest exemplification.
Catching a glimpse of us as we were entering on the lawn, the President
hastily withdrew into the cottage. The Boers he deserted seated
themselves on benches and chairs on the piazza, relighted their pipes,
and puffed contentedly, without paying more attention to us than to nod
to several of my companions as we passed them.
The front door of the cottage, or "White House," as they call it, was
wide open. There was no flunkey in livery to take our cards, no
white-aproned servant girls to tra-la-la our names. The executive
mansion of the President was as free and open to visitors as the
farmhouse of the humblest burgher of the republic. In their efforts to
display their qualities of politeness my companions urged me into the
President's private reception room, while they lingered for a short time
at the threshold. The President rose from his chair in the opposite
end, met me in the centre of the room, and had grasped my hand before my
companions had an opportunity of going through the process of an
introduction.
There was less formality and red tape in meeting "Oom Paul" than would
be required to have a word with Queen Victoria's butcher or President
McKinley's office-boy.
While Mr. Kruger's small fat hand was holding mine in its grasp and
shaking it vehemently, he spoke something in Boer, to which I replied,
"Heel goed, danke," meaning "Very well, I thank you." Some one had told
me that he would first ask concerning my health, and also gave me the
formula for an answer. The President laughed heartily at my reply, and
made a remark in Boer "taal." The interpreter came up in the meantime
and straightened out the tangle by telling me that the President's first
question had been "Have you any English blood in your veins?"
The President, still laughing at my reply, seated himself in a big
armchair at the head of a table on which was a heavy pipe and a large
tobacco box. He filled the pipe, lighted the tobacco, and blew great
clouds of smoke toward the ceiling. My companions took turns in filling
their pipes from the President's tobacco box, and in a few minutes the
smoke was so dense as nearly to obscure my view of the persons in front
of me.
The President crossed his short, thin legs and blew quick, spirited
puffs of smoke while an interpreter translated to him my expression of
the admiration which the American people had for him, and how well known
the title "Oom Paul" was in America. This delighted the old man
immeasurably. His big, fat body seemed to resolve itself into waves
which started in his shoes and gradually worked upward until the fat
rings under his eyes hid the little black orbits from view. Then he
slapped his knees with his hands, opened his large mouth, and roared
with laughter.
It was almost a minute before he regained his composure sufficiently to
take another puff at the pipe which is his constant companion. During
the old man's fit of laughter one of my companions nudged me and advised
me: "Now ask him anything you wish. He is in better humour than I have
ever seen him before." The President checked a second outburst of
laughter rather suddenly and asked, "Are you a friend of Cecil Rhodes?"
If there is any one whom "Oom Paul" detests it is the great colonizer.
The President invariably asks this question of strangers, and if the
answer is an affirmative one he refuses to continue the conversation.
Being assured that such was not the case, Mr. Kruger's mind appeared to
be greatly relieved--as he is very suspicious of all strangers--and he
asked another question which is indicative of the religious side of his
nature: "To what Church do you belong?" A speaking acquaintanceship was
claimed with the Dutch Reformed Church, of which the President is a most
devout member, and this served to dissipate all suspicions he might have
had concerning me.
The interpreter was repeating a question to him when the President
suddenly interrupted, as is frequently his custom during a conversation,
and asked: "Do the American people know the history of our people? I
will tell you truthfully and briefly. You have heard the English
version always; now I will give you ours."
The President proceeded slowly and, between puffs at his great pipe,
spoke determinedly: "When I was a child we were so maltreated by the
English in Cape Colony that we could no longer bear the abuses to which
we were subjected. In 1835 we migrated northward with our cattle and
possessions and settled in Natal, just south of Zululand, where by
unavoidable fighting we acquired territory from the Zulus. We had
hardly settled that country and established ourselves and a local form
of government when our old enemies followed, and by various high-handed
methods made life so unendurable that we were again compelled to move
our families and possessions. This time we travelled five hundred miles
inland over the trackless veldt and across the Vaal River, and after
many hardships and trials settled in the Transvaal. The country was so
poor, so uninviting, that the English colonists did not think it worth
their while to settle in the land which we had chosen for our
abiding-place.
"Our people increased in number, and, as the years passed, established a
form of government such as yours in America. The British thought they
were better able to govern us than we were ourselves, and once took our
country from us. Their defeats at Laing's Nek and Majuba Hill taught
them that we were fighters, and they gave us our independence and
allowed us to live peaceably for a number of years. They did not think
the country valuable enough to warrant the repetition of the fighting
for it. When it became known all over the world twelve years ago that
the most extensive gold fields on the globe had been discovered in our
apparently worthless country, England became envious and laid plans to
annex such a valuable prize. Thousands of people were attracted hither
by our wonderful gold mines at Johannesburg, and the English statesmen
renewed their attacks on us. They made all sorts of pretexts to rob us
of our country, and when they could not do it in a way that was honest
and would be commended by other nations, they planned the Jameson raid,
which was merely a bold attempt to steal our country."
At this point Kruger paused for a moment and then added, "You Americans
know how well they succeeded." This sally amused him and my companions
hugely, and they all joined in hearty laughter.
The President declared that England's attitude toward them had changed
completely since the discovery of the gold fields. "Up to that time we
had been living in harmony with every one. We always tried to be
peaceable and to prevent strife between our neighbours, but we have been
continually harassed since the natural wealth of our land has been
uncovered."
Here he relighted his pipe, which had grown cold while he was detailing
the history of the Transvaal Boers, and then drew a parable, which is
one of his distinguishing traits: "The gold fields may be compared to a
pretty girl who is young and wealthy. You all admire her and want her
to be yours, but when she rejects you your anger rises and you want to
destroy her." By implication England is the rejected suitor, and the
Transvaal the rich young girl.
Comparing the Boers' conduct in South Africa with that of the English,
the President said: "Ever since we left Cape Colony in 1835 we have not
taken any territory from the natives by conquest except that of one
chief whose murderous maraudings compelled us to drive him away from his
country. We bartered and bought every inch of land we now have, England
has taken all the land she has in South Africa at the muzzles of
repeating rifles and machine guns. That is the civilized method of
extending the bounds of the empire they talk about so much."
The Englishmen's plaint is that the republic will tax them, but allow
them no representation in the affairs of government. The President
explained his side in this manner: "Every man, be he Englishman,
Chinaman, or Eskimo, can become a naturalized citizen of our country and
have all the privileges of a burgher in nine years. If we should have a
war, a foreigner can become a citizen in a minute if he will fight with
our army. The difficulty with the Englishmen here is that they want to
be burghers and at the same time retain their English citizenship.
"A man can not serve two masters; either he will hate the one and love
the other, or hold to the one and despise the other. We have a law for
bigamy in our country, and it is necessary to dispose of an old love
before it is possible to marry a new."
"Oom Paul" is very bitter in his feeling against the English, whom he
calls his natural enemies, but it is seldom that he says anything
against them except in private to his most intimate friends. The
present great distress in the Johannesburg gold fields is attributed by
the English residents to the high protective duties imposed by the
Government and the high freight charges for the transmission of
machinery and coal. Mr. Kruger explained that those taxes were less
than in the other colonies in the country.
"We are high protectionists because ours is a young country. These new
mines have cost the Government great amounts of money, and it is
necessary for us to raise as much as we expend. They want us to give
them everything gratuitously, so that we may become bankrupt and they
can take our country for the debt. If they don't like our laws, why
don't they stay away?"
Nowhere in the world is the American Republic admired as much outside of
its own territory as in South Africa. Both the Transvaal and the Orange
Free State Constitutions are patterned after that of the United States,
and there is a desire lurking in the breasts of thousands of South
Africans to convert the whole of the country south of the Zambezi into
one grand United States of South Africa.
Sir Alfred Milner, the Queen's Commissioner to South Africa, said to me
several days before I saw Mr. Kruger that such a thing might come to
pass within the next twenty years. The President hesitated when I asked
him if he favoured such a proposition to unite all the colonies and
republics in the country. "If I should say 'Yes,' the English would
declare war on us to-morrow." He appeared to be very cautious on this
subject for a few minutes, but after a consultation with my companions
he spoke more freely.
"We admire your Government very much," he said, "and think there is none
better in the world. At the present time there are so many conflicting
affairs in this country as to make the discussion of an amalgamation
inadvisable. A republic formed on the principle of the United States
would be most advantageous to all concerned, but South Africa is not yet
ripe for such a government. I shall not live to see it."
According to those around him, the President had not been in such a
talkative mood for a long time, and, acting upon that information, I
asked him to tell me concerning the Boers' ability to defend themselves
in case of war with England. Many successes against British arms have
caused the Boers to regard their prowess very highly, and they generally
speak of themselves as well able to protect their country. The two
countries have been on the very verge of war several times during the
last three years, and it was only through the greatest diplomacy that
the thousands of English soldiers were not sent over the border of the
Transvaal, near which they have been stationed ever since the memorable
raid of Jameson's troopers.
The President's reply was guarded: "The English say they can starve us
out of our country by placing barriers of soldiers along the borders.
Starve us they can, if it is the will of God that such should be our
fate. If God is on our side they can build a big wall around us and we
can still live and flourish. We don't want war. My wish is to live in
peace with everybody."
It was evident that the subject was not pleasant to him, and he
requested me to ask Commissioner of War Smidt, a war-scarred hero of
Majuba Hill, to speak to me on the ability of the Boers to take care of
themselves in case of a conflict.
Commissioner Smidt became very enthusiastic as he progressed with the
expression of his opinion, and the President frequently nodded assent to
what the head of the War Department said.
"It is contrary to our national feeling to engage in war," said Mr.
Smidt, "and we will do all in our power to avert strife. If, however,
we are forced into fighting, we must defend ourselves as best we are
able. There is not one Boer in the Transvaal who will not fight until
death for his country. We have demonstrated our ability several times,
and we shall try to retain our reputation. The English must fight us in
our own country, where we know every rock, every valley, and every hill.
They fight at a disadvantage in a country which they do not know and in
a climate to which they are strangers.
"The Boers are born sharpshooters, and from infancy are taught to put a
bullet in a buzzard's skull at a hundred yards. One Boer is equal in a
war in our own country to five Englishmen, and that has been proved a
number of times. We have rugged constitutions, are accustomed to an
outdoor life, and can live on a piece of biltong for days, while the
Queen's soldiers have none of these advantages. They can not starve us
out in fifty years, for we have sources of provender of which they can
not deprive us. We have fortifications around Pretoria that make it an
impossibility for any army of less than fifty thousand men to take, and
the ammunition we have on hand is sufficient for a three years' war. We
are not afraid of the English in Africa, and not until every Boer in the
Transvaal is killed will we stop fighting if they ever begin. Should war
come, and I pray that it will not, the Boers will march through English
territory to the Cape of Good Hope, or be erased from the face of the
earth."
Never was a man more sincere in his statements than the commissioner,
and his companions supported his every sentence by look and gesture.
Even the President gave silent approval to the sentiments expressed.
"Have you ever had any intention of securing Delagoa Bay from the
Portuguese, in order that you might have a seacoast, as has been
rumoured many times?" I asked the President. Delagoa Bay, the finest
harbour in Africa, is within a few miles of the Transvaal, and might be
of great service to it in the event of war.
"'Cursed be he who removes the landmarks of his neighbour,'" quoted he.
"I never want to do anything that would bring the vengeance of God on
me. We want our country, nothing more, nothing less."
Asked to give an explanation of the causes of the troubles between
England and the Transvaal, he said:
"Mr. Rhodes is the cause of all the troubles between our country and
England. He desires to form all the country south of the Zambezi River
into a United States of South Africa, and before he can do this he must
have possession of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. His aim in
life is to be President of the United States of South Africa. He
initiated the Jameson raid, and he has stirred up the spirit of
discontent which is being shown by the Englishmen in the Transvaal. Our
Government endeavours to treat every one with like favour, but these
Englishmen are never satisfied with anything we do. They want the
English flag to wave over the Transvaal territory, and nothing less.
Rhodes spent millions of pounds in efforts to steal our country, and
will probably spend millions more. But we will never leave this land,
which we found, settled, and protected."
Then, rising from his chair and raising his voice, he continued slowly
and deliberately:
"We will fight until not one Boer remains to defend our flag and
country; our women and children will fight for their liberties; and even
I, an old man, will take the gun which I have used against them twice
before and use it again to defend the country I love. But I hope there
will be no war. I want none and the Boers want none. If war comes, we
shall not be to blame. I have done all in my power for peace, and have
taken many insults from Englishmen merely that my people might not be
plunged into war. I want no war. I hope that I may spend the rest of
my days in peace."
The President's carriage had arrived in front of the cottage to convey
him to the Government Building, and the time had arrived for him to
appear before one of the Volksraads. He displayed no eagerness to end
the interview, and continued it by asking me to describe the personality
and ability of President McKinley. He expressed his admiration of
former President Cleveland, with whose Department of State he had some
dealings while John Hays Hammond was confined in the Pretoria prison for
complicity in the Jameson raid.
His opinion of the Americans in South Africa was characteristic of the
man. "I like and trust true Americans. They are a magnificent people,
because they favour justice. When those in our country are untainted
with English ideas I trust them implicitly, but there were a number of
them here in Jameson's time who were Americans in name only."
He hesitated to send any message to the sister republic in America, lest
his English enemies might construe it to mean that he curried America's
favour. His friends finally persuaded him to make a statement, and he
dictated this expression of good fellowship and respect:
"So long as the different sections of the United States live in peace
and harmony, so long will they be happy and prosperous. My wish is that
the great republic in America may become the greatest nation on earth,
and that she may continue to act as the great peace nation. I wish that
prosperity may be hers and her people's, and in my daily prayers I ask
that God may protect her and bless her bounteously."
It being far past the time for his appearance at the Government
Building, the President ended the interview abruptly. He refilled his
pipe, bade farewell to us, and bustled from the room with all the vigour
of a young man. On the piazza, he met his little, silver-haired wife,
who, with a half-knit stocking pendant from her fingers, was conversing
with the countrymen sitting on the benches. The President bent down and
kissed her affectionately, then jumped into the carriage and was rapidly
conveyed to the Government Building. When the dust obscured the
carriage and the cavalrymen attending it, one of my companions turned to
me and remarked:
"Ah! there goes a great man!"