Ch. 6: The Amir's Homily

(1891)

His Royal Highness Abdur Rahman, Amir of Afghanistan, G.C.S.I., and
trusted ally of Her Imperial Majesty the Queen of England and Empress of
India, is a gentleman for whom all right-thinking people should have a
profound regard. Like most other rulers, he governs not as he would but
as he can, and the mantle of his authority covers the most turbulent
race under the stars. To the Afghan neither life, property, law, nor
kingship are sacred when his own lusts prompt him to rebel. He is a
thief by instinct, a murderer by heredity and training, and frankly and
bestially immoral by all three. None the less he has his own crooked
notions of honour, and his character is fascinating to study. On
occasion he will fight without reason given till he is hacked in pieces;
on other occasions he will refuse to show fight till he is driven into a
corner. Herein he is as unaccountable as the gray wolf, who is his
blood-brother.

And these men His Highness rules by the only weapon that they
understand--the fear of death, which among some Orientals is the
beginning of wisdom. Some say that the Amir's authority reaches no
farther than a rifle bullet can range; but as none are quite certain
when their king may be in their midst, and as he alone holds every one
of the threads of Government, his respect is increased among men. Gholam
Hyder, the Commander-in-chief of the Afghan army, is feared reasonably,
for he can impale; all Kabul city fears the Governor of Kabul, who has
power of life and death through all the wards; but the Amir of
Afghanistan, though outlying tribes pretend otherwise when his back is
turned, is dreaded beyond chief and governor together. His word is red
law; by the gust of his passion falls the leaf of man's life, and his
favour is terrible. He has suffered many things, and been a hunted
fugitive before he came to the throne, and he understands all the
classes of his people. By the custom of the East any man or woman having
a complaint to make, or an enemy against whom to be avenged, has the
right of speaking face to face with the king at the daily public
audience. This is personal government, as it was in the days of Harun al
Raschid of blessed memory, whose times exist still and will exist long
after the English have passed away.

The privilege of open speech is of course exercised at certain personal
risk. The king may be pleased, and raise the speaker to honour for that
very bluntness of speech which three minutes later brings a too
imitative petitioner to the edge of the ever ready blade. And the people
love to have it so, for it is their right.

It happened upon a day in Kabul that the Amir chose to do his day's work
in the Baber Gardens, which lie a short distance from the