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INDIAN FRONTIER POLICY
AN HISTORICAL SKETCH
BY
GENERAL SIR JOHN ADYE, G.C.B., R.A.
WITH A MAP
PREFACE
The subject of our policy on the North-West frontier of India is one of
great importance, as affecting the general welfare of our Eastern
Empire, and is specially interesting at the present time, when military
operations on a considerable scale are being conducted against a
combination of the independent tribes along the frontier.
It must be understood that the present condition of affairs is no mere
sudden outbreak on the part of our turbulent neighbours. Its causes lie
far deeper, and are the consequences of events in bygone years.
In the following pages I have attempted to give a short historical
summary of its varying phases, in the hope that I may thus assist the
public in some degree to understand its general bearings, and to form a
correct opinion of the policy which should be pursued in the future.
JOHN ADYE,
_General_.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
EVENTS PRIOR TO, AND INCLUDING, FIRST AFGHAN WAR OF 1839-41
Proposed Invasion of India by Napoleon I.--Mission of Burnes to Cabul
--Its Failure--Hostility of Russia and Persia--First Afghan War, 1839-41
--Its Vicissitudes and Collapse.
CHAPTER II
EVENTS PRIOR, AND LEADING UP, TO SECOND AFGHAN WAR
Conquest of Khiva, Bokhara, and Kokand by Russia--British Conquest of
Scinde and the Punjaub--Our Policy with the Frontier Tribes--Treaty of
1857 with Dost Mahomed--Shere Ali succeeds as Ameer, 1868--War of 1878--
Abdul Rahman becomes Ameer--Withdrawal of British Army from Afghanistan,
1881.
CHAPTER III
FRONTIER POLICY SINCE SECOND AFGHAN WAR, INCLUDING EXPEDITION TO CHITRAL
Further Advance of Russia--Merv Occupied--Sir West Ridgeway's Frontier
Commission of 1885--The Durand Agreement with Abdul Rahman--The Chitral
Expedition of 1895--Its Results--Sudden Outbreak of Frontier Tribes, 1897.
[Illustration: Afghanistan and North-West Frontier of INDIA.]
INDIAN FRONTIER POLICY
AN HISTORICAL SKETCH
CHAPTER I
EVENTS PRIOR TO, AND INCLUDING, FIRST AFGHAN WAR OF 1839-41
Proposed Invasion of India by Napoleon I.--Mission of Burnes to Cabul
--Its Failure--Hostility of Russia and Persia--First Afghan War, 1839-41
--Its Vicissitudes and Collapse.
In considering the important and somewhat intricate subject of policy
on the North-Western frontier of our Indian Empire it will be desirable,
in the first place, to give a concise history of the events which have
guided our action, and which for many years past have exercised a
predominating influence in that part of our Eastern dominion.
Speaking generally, it may, I think, be said that the main features of
our policy on the North-Western frontier have been determined by the
gradual advance of Russia southwards, and partly also by the turbulent
character of the people of Afghanistan, and of the independent tribes
who inhabit the great region of mountains which lie between Russia and
ourselves.
These two circumstances--the first having been the most powerful--have
led us into great wars and frontier expeditions, which as a rule have
been costly, and in some cases unjust, and their consequences have not
tended to strengthen our position either on the frontier or in India
itself.
It will be well therefore to give an outline of the Russian conquests
in Central Asia to the north of Afghanistan, and also of our dealings
with the rulers of Cabul in bygone years, and we shall then be better
able to judge of our present position, and to determine the principles
which should guide our North-Western frontier policy.
One of the first threats of invasion of India early in the century was
planned at Tilsit, and is thus described by Kaye:[Footnote: _History
of the War in Afghanistan_] 'Whilst the followers of Alexander and
Napoleon were abandoning themselves to convivial pleasures, those
monarchs were spending quiet evenings together discussing their future
plans, and projecting joint schemes of conquest. It was then that they
meditated the invasion of Hindostan by a confederate army uniting on the
plains of Persia; and no secret was made of the intention of the two
great European potentates to commence in the following spring a hostile
demonstration--Contre les possessions de la compagnie des Indes.'
The peril, however, was averted by a treaty at Teheran in March 1809,
in which the Shah of Persia covenanted not to permit any European force
whatever to pass through Persia towards India, or towards the ports of
that country. And so the visionary danger passed away.
The old southern boundary of Russia in Central Asia extended from the
north of the Caspian by Orenburg and Orsk, across to the old Mongolian
city of Semipalatinsk, and was guarded by a cordon of forts and Cossack
outposts. It was about 2,000 miles in length, and [Footnote:
_Quarterly Review_, Oct. 1865.] 'abutted on the great Kirghis
Steppe, and to a certain extent controlled the tribes pasturing in the
vicinity, but by no means established the hold of Russia on that
pathless, and for the most part lifeless, waste.'
During all the earlier years of the century, while we were establishing
our power in India, constant intrigues and wars occurred in Persia,
Afghanistan, and Central Asia; and rumours were occasionally heard of
threats against ourselves, which formed the subject of diplomatic
treatment from time to time; but in reality the scene was so distant
that our interests were not seriously affected, and it was not until
1836 that they began to exercise a powerful influence as regards our
policy on the North-West frontier.
In that year Lord Auckland was Governor-General, and Captain Alexander
Burnes was sent on a commercial mission up the Indus, and through the
Kyber Pass, to Cabul, where he was received in a friendly manner by the
Ameer Dost Mahomed. It must be borne in mind that neither Scinde nor the
Punjaub was then under our rule, so that our frontiers were still far
distant from Afghanistan. It was supposed at the time that Russia was
advancing southward towards India in league with Persia, and the mission
of Burnes was in reality political, its object being to induce the Ameer
to enter into a friendly alliance.
Dost Mahomed was quite willing to meet our views, and offered to give
up altogether any connection with the two Powers named. It, however,
soon became apparent that our interests were by no means identical; his
great object, as we found, being to recover the Peshawur district, which
had been taken a few years previously by Runjeet Singh, while we, on the
other hand, courted his friendship chiefly in order that his country
might prove a barrier against the advance of Russia and Persia.
These respective views were evidently divergent and the issues
doubtful; when suddenly a Russian Envoy (Vicovitch), also on a so-called
commercial mission, arrived at Cabul, offering the Ameer money and
assistance against the Sikhs. This altered the aspect of affairs. Burnes
wrote to the Governor-General that the Russians were evidently trying to
outbid us. Still some hope remained, until definite instructions arrived
from Lord Auckland declining to mediate with or to act against Runjeet
Singh, the ruler of the Punjaub. The Ameer felt that we made great
demands on him but gave him nothing in return. It then became evident
that the mission of Burnes was a failure, and in April 1838 he returned
to India. It was our first direct effort to provide against a distant
and unsubstantial danger, and it failed; but unfortunately we did not
take the lesson to heart.
In the meantime the Shah of Persia, instigated by Russia, besieged
Herat, but after months of fruitless effort, and in consequence of our
sending troops to the Persian Gulf, the Shah at length withdrew his army.
It was not only the hostile efforts of the Shah on Herat in 1838 which
were a cause of anxiety to the Indian Government; but, as Kaye
writes,[Footnote: Kaye's _War in Afghanistan._] 'far out in the
distance beyond the mountains of the Hindoo Koosh there was the shadow
of a great Northern army, tremendous in its indistinctness, sweeping
across the wilds and deserts of Central Asia towards the frontiers of
Hindostan.' That great Northern army, as we know now, but did not know
then, was the column of Perofski, which had left Orenburg for the
attempted conquest of Khiva, but which subsequently perished from
hardships and pestilence in the snowy wastes of the Barsuk Desert, north
of the Aral.
In view of all the circumstances--of the supposed designs of Russia and
Persia, and of the hostility and incessant intrigues in Afghanistan--the
Government of India were sorely perplexed, and opinions amongst the
authorities widely differed as to the policy to be pursued. Lord
Auckland, however, at length decided on the assemblage of a British
force for service across the Indus. In his manifesto issued in December
1838 he first alluded to the Burnes mission, and the causes of its
failure. He then referred to the claims of Shah Soojah, a former ruler
of Afghanistan (who had been living for some years in exile within our
territories) and said we had determined, in co-operation with the Sikhs,
to restore him to power as Ameer of Cabul.
It was arranged that Shah Soojah should enter Afghanistan with his own
troops, such as they were, supported by a British army marching through
Scinde and Beloochistan. The Governor-General expressed a hope that
tranquillity would thus be established on the frontier, and a barrier
formed against external aggression; and he ended by pro claiming that
when the object was accomplished the British army would be withdrawn.
This was indeed a momentous decision. The Commander-in-Chief in India,
Sir Henry Fane, had already given an adverse opinion, saying that 'every
advance you make beyond the Sutlej in my opinion adds to your military
weakness.'
On the decision becoming known in England many high authorities, and
the public generally, disapproved, of the expedition. The Duke of
Wellington said that 'our difficulties would commence where our military
successes ended,' and that 'the consequences of crossing the Indus once,
to settle a Government in Afghanistan, will be a perennial march, into
that country.' The Marquis Wellesley spoke of 'the folly of occupying a
land of rocks, sands, deserts, and snow.' Sir Charles Metcalfe from the
first protested, and said, 'Depend upon it, the surest way to bring
Russia down upon ourselves is for us to cross the Indus and meddle with
the countries beyond it.' Mr. Elphinstone wrote: 'If you send 27,000 men
up the Bolam to Candahar, and can feed them, I have no doubt you can
take Candahar and Cabul and set up Soojah, but as for maintaining him in
a poor, cold, strong, and remote country, among a turbulent people like
the Afghans, I own it seems to me to be hopeless. If you succeed you
will I fear weaken the position against Russia. The Afghans are neutral,
and would have received your aid against invaders with gratitude. They
will now be disaffected, and glad to join any invader to drive you out.'
Mr. Tucker, of the Court of Directors, wrote to the Duke of Wellington:
'We have contracted an alliance with Shah Soojah, although he does not
possess a rood of ground in Afghanistan, nor a rupee which he did not
derive from our bounty as a quondam pensioner.' He added, that 'even if
we succeed we must maintain him in the government by a large military
force, 800 miles from our frontier and our resources.'
The above were strong and weighty opinions and arguments against the
rash and distant enterprise on which the Government of India were about
to embark. But there is more to be said. Independently of the result in
Afghanistan itself, it must be borne in mind that the proposed line of
march of the army necessarily led through Scinde and Beloochistan,
countries which (whatever their former position may have been) were then
independent both of the Ameer and of ourselves.
The force from Bengal, consisting of about 9,500 men of all arms, with
38,000 camp followers, accompanied by Shah Soojah's levy, left
Ferozepore in December, and crossing the Indus, arrived at Dadur, the
entrance to the Bolam Pass, in March 1839. Difficulties with the Ameers
of Scinde at once arose, chiefly as to our passage through their
territories; but their remonstrances were disregarded, and they were
informed that 'the day they connected themselves with any other Power
than England would be the last of their independence, if not of their
rule.' [Footnote: Kaye's _War in Afghanistan_.]
The army then advanced through the Bolam, and reached Quetta on March
26th. But here again obstacles similar in character to those just
described occurred, and Sir Alexander Burnes visited the ruler of
Beloochistan (the Khan of Khelat), demanding assistance, especially as
to supplies of food. The Prince, with prophetic truth, pointed out that
though we might restore Shah Soojah, we would not carry the Afghans with
us, and would fail in the end. He alluded to the devastation which our
march had already caused in the country; but having been granted a
subsidy, unwillingly consented to afford us assistance; and the army,
leaving possible enemies in its rear, passed on, and reached Candahar
without opposition in April. At the end of June it recommenced its march
northwards, and Ghuznee having been stormed and captured, our troops
without further fighting arrived at Cabul on April 6. Dost Mahomed,
deserted for the time by his people, fled northward over the Hindoo
Koosh, finding a temporary refuge in Bokhara, and Shah Soojah reigned in
his stead.
So far the great expedition had apparently accomplished its object, and
the success of the tripartite treaty between ourselves, the Sikhs, and
the new Ameer had been successfully carried out, almost entirely,
however, by ourselves as the pre-dominant partner.
The time therefore would seem to have arrived when, in fulfilment of
Lord Auckland's proclamation, the British army should be withdrawn from
Afghanistan. For the moment this appeared to be the case. But in reality
it was not so, and our position soon became dangerous, then critical,
and at last desperate. In the first place, the long line of
communication was liable at any time to be interrupted, as already
mentioned; then, again, the arrival of Shah Soojah had excited no
enthusiasm; and the very fact that we were foreigners in language,
religion and race, rendered our presence hateful to his subjects. In
short, the new Ameer was, and continued to be, a mere puppet, supported
in authority by British bayonets.
These conditions were apparent from the first day of his arrival, and
grew in intensity until the end. Shah Soojah himself soon discovered
that his authority over his people was almost nominal; and although he
chafed at our continued presence in the country, he also felt that the
day of our departure would be the last of his reign, and that our
withdrawal was under the circumstances impossible. But the situation was
equally complicated from our own point of view. If, as originally
promised, the British troops were withdrawn, the failure of the
expedition would at once become apparent by the anarchy which would
ensue. On the other hand, to retain an army in the far-distant mountains
of Afghanistan would not only be a breach of faith, but, while entailing
enormous expense, would deprive India of soldiers who might be required
elsewhere.
After lengthy consideration, it was decided to reduce the total of our
force in the country, while retaining a hold for the present on Cabul,
Ghuznee, and Candahar, together with the passes of the Kyber and Bolam.
In short, the British army was weakly scattered about in a region of
mountains, amongst a hostile people, and with its long lines of
communication insufficiently guarded. Both in a military and a political
point of view the position was a false and dangerous one.
General Sir John Keane, who was about to return to India, writing at
the time, said 'Mark my words, it will not be long before there is here
some signal catastrophe.' During the summer of 1840 there were troubles
both in the Kyber and Bolam passes. In the former the tribes, incensed
at not receiving sufficient subsidies, attacked the outposts and
plundered our stores; while in Beloochistan matters were so serious that
a British force was sent, and captured Khelat, the Khan being killed,
and part of his territory handed over to Shah Soojah. [Footnote: In the
life of Sir Robert Sandeman, recently published, it is stated that the
alleged treachery of Mehrab Khan, which cost him his life, was on
subsequent inquiry not confirmed.] Rumours from Central Asia also added
to our anxieties. Although the failure of the Russian attempt on Khiva
became known some months later, it excited apprehension at the time
amongst our political officers in Cabul. Sir Alexander Burnes, during
the winter of 1839, expressed opinions which were curiously inconsistent
with each other. 'I maintain,' he said, 'that man to be an enemy to his
country who recommends a soldier to be stationed west of the Indus;
'while at the same moment he advocated the advance of our troops over
the Hindoo Koosh into Balkh, so as to be ready to meet the Russians in
the following May.
Sir William McNaghten, the chief political officer in Cabul, went still
further, and in April 1840 not only urged a march on Bokhara, but also
contemplated sending a Mission to Kokand, in order, as he said, 'to
frustrate the knavish tricks of the Russians in that quarter.'
Our position, however, at that time was sufficiently precarious without
adding to our anxieties by distant expeditions in Central Asia, even had
the Russians established themselves in the Principalities, which at that
time was not the case. Not only was Afghanistan itself seething with
treachery and intrigues from one end to the other, but the Sikhs in the
Punjaub, our nominal allies, had, since the death of Runjeet Singh,
become disloyal and out of hand. Beloochistan was in tumult; the tribes
in the Kyber, ever ready for mischief, incessantly threatened our
communications; so that we were certainly in no condition to enter upon
further dangerous expeditions against distant imaginary foes.
Sir Jasper Nicholls, the Commander-in-Chief, strongly objected to any
advance. 'In truth,' he said, 'we are much weaker now than in 1838.'
During the latter months of 1840, and in 1841, matters became steadily
worse, and all Afghanistan seemed ripe for revolt. 'We are in a stew
here,' wrote Sir William McNaghten in September; 'it is reported that
the whole country on this side the Oxus is up in favour of Dost Mahomed,
who is certainly advancing in great strength.' Again, in a letter to
Lord Auckland, he said 'that affairs in this quarter have the worst
possible appearance'--and he quoted the opinion of Sir Willoughby
Cotton, that 'unless the Bengal troops are instantly strengthened we
cannot hold the country.'
At this critical period, however, Dost Mahomed was heavily defeated at
Bamian, on the Hindoo Koosh, voluntarily surrendering shortly
afterwards, and for the moment prospects looked brighter; but the clouds
soon gathered again, and the end was at hand.
The Governor-General of India had throughout the whole war wisely and
steadfastly resisted the proposed further operations in Central Asia;
and the Court of Directors in London wrote as follows: 'We pronounce our
decided opinion that, for many years to come, the restored monarchy will
have need of a British force in order to maintain peace in its own
territory, and prevent aggression from without.' And they go on: 'We
again desire you seriously to consider which of the two alternatives (a
speedy retreat from Afghanistan, or a considerable increase of the
military force in that country) you may feel it your duty to adopt. We
are convinced that you have no middle course to pursue with safety and
with, honour.' The Government of India, hesitating to the last, failed
in adopting either of the alternatives.
In November, 1841, Sir Alexander Burnes was treacherously murdered by a
mob in Cabul, which was followed by an insurrection, and the defeat of
our troops. General Elphinstone, who was in command, writing to Sir W.
McNaghten on November 24, said that 'from the want of provisions and
forage, the reduced state of our troops, the large number of wounded and
sick, the difficulty of defending the extensive and ill-situated
cantonment we occupy, the near approach of winter, our communications
cut off, no prospect of relief, and the whole country in arms against
us, I am of opinion that it is not feasible any longer to maintain our
position in this country, and that you ought to avail yourself of the
offer to negotiate that has been made to you.'
This was conclusive. Our Envoy early in December met the Afghan chiefs,
and agreed that we should immediately evacuate the country, and that
Dost Mahomed, who was in exile in India, should return. On December 23,
Sir William McNaghten was treacherously murdered at a conference with
the Afghan Sirdars, within sight of the British cantonment, and then
came the end.
The British force at Cabul, leaving its guns, stores and treasure
behind, commenced its retreat on January 6, 1842; but incessantly
attacked during its march, and almost annihilated in the Koord Cabul
Pass, it ceased to exist as an organised body. General Elphinstone and
other officers, invited to a conference by Akbar Khan, were forcibly
detained as hostages, and on January 13 a solitary Englishman (Dr.
Brydon) arrived at Jellalabad, being, with the exception of a few
prisoners, the sole remaining representative of the force.
I have given this short sketch of the first Afghan war because,
disastrous as it was, the causes of our failure were due throughout far
more to rash and mistaken policy than to any shortcomings of the British
troops engaged. Kaye in his 'History' gives a clear summary of its
original object and unfortunate results: 'The expedition across the
Indus was undertaken with the object of creating in Afghanistan a
barrier against encroachment from the west.' 'The advance of the British
army was designed to check the aggression of Persia on the Afghan
frontier, and to baffle Russian intrigues by the substitution of a
friendly for an unfriendly Power in the countries beyond the Indus.
After an enormous waste of blood and treasure, we left every town and
village of Afghanistan bristling with our enemies. Before the British
army crossed the Indus the English name had been honoured in
Afghanistan. Some dim traditions of the splendour of Mr. Elphinstone's
Mission had been all that the Afghans associated with their thoughts of
the English nation, but in their place we left galling memories of the
progress of a desolating army.'
The history of the war from first to last deserves careful
consideration; and if the lessons taught by it are taken to heart, they
will materially assist in determining the principles which, should guide
our policy on the North-West frontier of India.