Terrifying Afghan Genius-King: Abdur Rahman

[Enon]

As a boy I greatly enjoyed Khyber, British India’s North West Frontier: the story of an imperial migraine, by Charles Miller (1977)

The back cover gives a fair sample:

“Between a dust-layered blue turban and a shaggy, scrofulous black beard (usually dyed when it began to whiten) were fixed the eyes of a hawk, the teak of a vulture and the mouth of a shark. The owner of these features, as a rule, stood slightly taller than a jump center and moved with the silent grace of a tiger on a stalk. Beneath his long, unwashed white robe he was likely to have on a pair of tattered, ankle-length pajama pants and a loose, dirtcaked tunic festooned with charms and amulets. The cotton cummerbund holding trousers and tunic in place was also a repository for an oversize flintlock pistol, two or three knives and a long curved tulwar that could mince a floating feather. In addition to the sidearms, there was a long-barrelled jezail, held casually over the shoulder or cradled in the crook of the arm—always loaded and ready to fire. Roses, worn behind the ears, often rounded off the getup. They did nothing to dispel the notion that here was a creature whose sole purpose and pleasure in life was the inflicting of a death as uncomfortable and prolonged as it might be possible to arrange.”

The Pathan was formidible enough, but their Padshah made them tremble.

Many years after reading Khyber, I was amazed to learn that this ogre had written an autobiography (there were so few literate Afghans in the late 19th century that one could invite them all to dinner, and indeed Abdur Rahman often did). Not only that, but it reads like a boys-own adventure novel, followed by him turning into a sort of homocidal Connecticut Yankee in his own court. We’ll get to his Autobiography in due course, but Miller is too good not to quote at length.

Before I do though, it’s worth noting that Abdur Rahman’s legacy is still with us. He handed over to the British the territory containing all his most ungovernable Pathans, on the other side of what is still called the “Durand Line”, and is still the nominal border between Afghanistan and Pakistan. These Pathans are still ungovernable, the Pakistani Army doesn’t dare go in with fewer than 20,000 troops, and 50,000 is not considered excessive. These Pathans prevented both the USSR and the USA from conquering Afghanistan, and no doubt they have unwittingly helped India by keeping the Pakistani armed forces otherwise occupied.

[p. 223] Chapter 20: The Torturer at Home

The Amir Abdur Rahman Khan once told an Englishman named Frank Martin that during the course of his reign he had ordered the execution of more than 100,000 Afghans. Martin served for some years as Abdur Rahman’s chief civil engineer, and the book he wrote about his experiences with the Amir included a chapter entitled “Tortures and Methods of Execution,” whose subtitles read:

Khyber Ch. 20, continued:

“Hanging by hair and skinning alive . . . Beating to death with sticks . . . Cutting men in pieces . . . Throwing down mountain-side . . . Starving to death in cages . . . Boiling woman to soup and man drinking it before execution . . . Punishment by exposure and starvation . . . Burying alive . . . Throwing into soap boilers . . . Cutting off hands . . . Blinding . . . Tying to bent trees and disrupting . . . Blowing from guns . . . Hanging, etc.” Martin also noted that “there are other forms of torture . . . but these cannot be described.”

The most revolting aspect of these barbarities was that they were perpetrated in a good cause. When Abdur Rahman took up the reins of Afghanistan’s government in 1880, he found himself presiding over a state of unbridled anarchy. The firm foundations of order and unity built by his grandfather Dost Muhammad had begun to crack during the five-year war following the Dost’s death in 1863, had crumbled further under Sher Ali and Yakub Khan, and had finally collapsed altogether in the Second Afghan War and the British occupation. As in the decade before Dost Muhammad’s accession in 1826, Afghanistan had retrogressed to a mutilated balkaniza- tion that had stripped it of any pretensions to sovereignty. Once again, murderers did their dark deeds in bright sunlight while highwaymen bushwhacked caravans across the length and breadth of the land so thoroughly that trade had all but dried up. To the extent that any administration existed, it was being eaten alive by a corrupt elite of semiliterate civil servants called mirzas^ who feathered their nests by accusing other mirzas of swindling and then took huge bribes to withdraw the charges. It was always easy to make an indictment stick, said Martin, “for very few besides the mirzas can do more than count up to twenty.” Although the British had smiled on Abdur Rahman, he held even less power when he took the throne than had Dost Muhammad five decades earlier. Once again, the real rulers of Afghanistan were its tribal robber barons who held their provinces by duplicity and naked force, who mobilized huge armies against each other and kept the whole country in a state of perpetual vendetta. In such conditions, any amir who wished to restore order and assert a legitimate claim as de facto and de jure monarch could hardly be a stickler for parliamentary procedure. The task required a strong man. Abdur Rahman proved to be all of that. His priority need was to smash the power of the tribal warlords. He had got off to an excellent start in that direction even before Lytton and Roberts had offered him the Afghan throne [. . . .]

[p. 225] Abdur Rahman’s horsemen rode down the rebel troops and systematically cut them to pieces. Several thousand of the survivors were blinded with quicklime and Afghan Turkestan remained an integral part of the nation. When Abdur Rahman died in 1901, Afghanistan had been transformed from a henhouse of squabbling headmen into something like a sovereign state.

Abdur Rahman was no less diligent in his war on crime. Accurate records were never kept of the number of human hands lopped off with swords as punishment for theft, or of the deaths from shock when the blood-spurting stumps were plunged into boiling tar to prevent infection, but the figure probably ran into the scores of thousands. Executions were summary, although not always swift. A bandit caught waylaying a caravan could consider himself lucky if he was merely bayoneted to death or blown from the muzzle of Kabul’s noonday gun. Just as often, he could count on having several square inches of his skin removed daily, for as many days as it took him to succumb. Or he might be hanged, but not from the conventional drop-gallows with its split-second snapping of the neck. The condemned man was simply hauled up and allowed to strangle at leisure.

Other executions lasted even longer. Travelers crossing the Lataband Pass on the road between Kabul and Kandahar rode beneath a huge iron cage suspended from a pole; in it lay the bleaching bones of convicted highwaymen who had been placed there to advertise Abdur Rahman’s justice by dying of hunger, thirst, heat stroke, frostbite or all four. If the cage contained a still-living inmate, no one dared give him so much as a grain of millet or a drop of water. Minor offenses carried penalties that included the sewing together of upper and lower lips, rubbing snuff in the eyes, hanging by the heels for a week, nose amputations and whiskerplucking. The last was specially dreaded: a smooth-cheeked Muslim, unable to swear oaths by his beard, tended to feel like a quadriplegic. The two most important things about these sentences was that they were carried out on a massive scale—unprecedented even in Afghan history—and that they were public. Although the lesson did not get across instantly—“the boast of the true Afghan,” wrote Martin, “is that he can endure pain, even to death,’ without a sigh or sound, and some do so”—its impact was gradually felt and its results, in due course, became visible. By the 1890s, Abdur Rahman could write with a certain pride of the contrast between his highways, where caravans no longer needed armed escorts, and the Khyber Pass, “which the English have not been able to render safe for travellers, without a strong body-guard, even after sixty years’ rule.”

Of course, Abdur Rahman never eradicated crime completely; that would have been too much to expect among a people whose instincts for corruption, conspiracy and murder were a conditioned reflex. He was continually alive to potential insurgency in the highest councils of government and made it an article of policy to arrange for the secret garroting or throat-cutting of close advisers who seemed likely to emerge as rabble-rousers or plotters against him. He girded his person with an elaborate security apparatus, installing spies not only in every government department but in his own household. (Some close relatives had their own agents spying on the Amir.) Special guards stood round-theclock sentry duty over his food and drink; at mealtimes, all dishes placed before him were first tasted in his presence by the palace cook. Once, when he had a toothache, his surgeon told him that the extraction would take only twenty minutes with chloroform, whereupon Abdur Rahman ordered that the tooth be pulled without anesthetic, shouting angrily that he could not risk being out of the world for twenty seconds. But for all the imperfections of Abdur Rahman’s system, no ruler of Afghanistan had ever united the country more firmly or given its people a stronger sense of national unity—or made it more unmistakably clear who was in charge. And in so doing, Abdur Rahman also made himself the most feared individual in Central Asia.

Certainly he looked the part. Even in his declining years, when he was racked by gout, wore badly fitting false teeth and dyed his huge beard black in accordance with Afghan custom, Abdur Rahman remained a bull-lion of a man. Martin described him as “very stout and broad, with a rather long body and short legs. His eyes were very dark, almost black, and looked out from under his heavy brows with quick, keen glances. . . .

[He] was always the king, and there was that about him which forbade any one taking advantage. . . . When roused to anger, his face became drawn, and his teeth would show until he looked wolfish, and then he hissed words rather than spoke them, and there were few of those before him who did not tremble when he was in that mood, for it was then that the least fault involved some horrible punishment.”

There was another side to Abdur Rahman’s character. He had a lively sense of humor and was a gifted raconteur who liked to tell jokes about himself. A favorite anecdote concerned his youthful affliction with a large intestinal worm, which no amount of therapy could dislodge until he put his own ingenuity to work. What he did, he liked to explain with elaborate gestures, was order a banquet laid out before him. The smell of the food tempted the worm, which then began to crawl up Abdur Rahman’s throat, enabling him to reach into his mouth and draw the worm all the wav out. When he told such tales, the throne room would quake with the thunder of his laughter.

Even his rages with miscreants could be tempered with whimsy. One of his generals, found guilty of some seemingly disloyal act, was cashiered and made to serve as a batcha, or palace dancing boy. When some gold was being counted in his treasury, Abdur Rahman noticed that a highranking cabinet minister had abstracted several coins and hidden them in his stocking. The Amir then made a deceptively casual remark about the mistaken belief among foreigners that Afghans were not whiteskinned, and asked the embezzling official to explode the fallacy by baring his leg. The perpetrator had no choice but to obey. To his great good fortune he was merely thrown into prison.

A more or less model family man, Abdur Rahman was deeply devoted to his five sons, even though he suspected their political ambitions and often treated them as upper-echelon bureaucrats rather than the fruit of his loins. He was Afghanistan’s chess and backgammon champion (possibly no one dared beat him), and his passion for flowers gave the royal palace in Kabul a resemblance to a scaled-up greenhouse even in winter. Music seemed to have charms that soothed the Amir’s savage breast. He himself played the violin and rebab passably well, and bragged in his autobiography that “it must be therefore a luxury and pleasure for my officials to be in my presence to enjoy all the various pleasures I provide for them.” Considering what else Abdur Rahman was capable of providing, the officials probably found the music more relief than enjoyment.

Abdur Rahman probably took his greatest pride in being a jack of all trades and master of some. Even as a child he had shown a mechanical aptitude rare among Afghans, teaching himself architecture, carpentry, blacksmithing and rifle-making before he began to grow whiskers. During his exile in Russian territory he continued his self-education, adding medicine, dentistry, watch-making, phrenology, gold-working and piano-tuning to his list of skills. He was a staunch upholder of the work ethic and often voiced contempt for the idle ways of other Asiatic princes. Even when prostrate with gout, he ran his country single-handedly. In 1894, Curzon visited Abdur Rahman in Kabul and wrote that “there was nothing from the command of an army or the government of a province to the cut of a uniform or the fabrication of furniture that he did not personally supervise and control.” If there had been railways in Afghanistan, he would have seen to it that they ran on time. [Note: There were none because Abdur Rahman feared that they might expedite the movement of Russian or British troops if either power ever decided to invade. To this day, (1977) there is not a single foot of rail in Afghanistan.] He worked a twenty-hour day, disregarding the pleas of his hakims and his two or three British doctors [Note: President Kennedy was not the first chief of state to have a woman physician, Abdur Rahman anticipated him when he hired Dr. Edith Hamilton from England.] to follow a less demanding schedule. “As I am a lover of the welfare of my nation,” he wrote, “I do not feel my own pains, but the pains and sufferings and weaknesses of my people.”

His people may not always have appreciated this concern for their betterment, and Abdur Rahman himself often despaired of ever succeeding in his attempt to drag them out of the Iron Age. (His own private secretary had a sixth-grade knowledge of reading and could barely compose a letter.) But he never stopped trying, and his reforms were by no means exclusively punitive. To make Afghanistan less dependent on imports, he hired expatriate technicians who studied the country’s mineral resources—particularly its gold, silver, copper, lead, tin, nickel and zinc. Other foreign specialists on his payroll laid the foundations of a rudimentary industrial system, training nomadic warriors in a variety of skilled trades. In Kabul’s flourishing workshops, Afghan mechanics and craftsmen not only mass-produced guns and ammunition for the armed forces but minted coins and turned out furniture, leather goods, European clothing and a proliferation of metalware. Abdur Rahman also offered cash prizes as incentives to good work, and if an Afghan wanted to go into business for himself, he could usually count on a generous interestfree loan from the Amir’s own pocket. It has been said that as many as 100,000 of Abdur Rahman’s countrymen found gainful employment in some sort of modern manufacture or commercial enterprise.

Above all, Abdur Rahman made himself accessible to every class of the populace. “It was usual,” wrote Martin, “for people to be allowed to present petitions when meeting him on the road, or returning from the musjid [mosquel on a Eriday (the Mussulman Sunday), and this he encouraged, and even went so far … as to call all men, even sweepers, ‘brother.’ ” At public durbars in the royal palace, the pleas and disputes of street beggars who came before Abdur Rahman received as much [p.229] attention and thoughtful adjudication as did the petitions of influential chiefs and wealthy merchants. Although some supplicants did not always have the few coppers needed to bribe the guards at the palace gate, no one was ever turned away deliberately by Abdur Rahman himself. It is quite possible that the fairness of the personal justice that he meted out may have compensated at least a little for his more barbaric excesses.

If Afghanistan’s backwardness exasperated Abdur Rahman, his sorest trial was the accident of his own birth, which in terms of his pugnacious instincts came at least a century too late and denied him the opportunity to emulate Genghis Khan. Curzon wrote of him as “a man who, had he lived in an earlier age and not been crushed, as he told me, like an earthenware pot between the rival forces of England and Russia, might have founded an Empire, and swept in a tornado of blood over Asia and even beyond it.” [Note: As a conqueror, he had to content himself with the annexation of a small cluster of mountains called Kafiristan, the setting of Kipling’s “The Man Who Would Be King.” He also acquired the Wakhan panhandle on Afghanistan’s extreme northeast frontier, although Wakhan was more or less forced on him by the British, who, oddly enough, did not want the icy outpost either.]

For the next quotation regarding the negotiation of the Durand Line, this map from the front inside cover of Khyber is helpful:

Abdur Rahman tricks the Brits

[p.240] Abdur Rahman did not simply sit back and place the Frontier’s fate in the hands of Allah. In the numerous protests he lodged during the 1890s with the Viceroy, Ford Fansdowne, he was sometimes almost polite, with veiled threats suggesting that British border policy was self-defeating. “In your cutting away from me these frontier tribes, who are people of my nationality and my religion,” said Abdur Rahman, “you will injure my prestige in the eyes of my subjects, and will make me weak and my weakness is injurious to your government.” But the Amir could also warn openly: “If at any time a foreign enemy appear on the borders of India, these frontier tribes will be your worst enemy.”

And Abdur Rahman would not have been Abdur Rahman had he confined himself to letter-writing. He also used his influence among the hill Pathans, which was not inconsiderable, to sow the seeds of anti- British discontent, which was not hard to do. “The Amir is behaving worse than ever,” wrote Sir Mortimer Durand in 1892. “He tells us he is King of the Afridis, and almost admits that he has stirred them up against us.” British counterprotests fell on deaf ears. “[Abdur Rahman] treats our envoy as a prisoner,” said Durand, “. . . and he won’t come to meet the Viceroy ‘like an Indian Chief’ … I cannot see where it is to end.”

Presently, however, Abdur Rahman seemed to have concluded that threats would get him nowhere. In the late summer of 1893, he astonished Fansdowne with a proposal that a conference be held in Kabul with a view to a formal, and final, delimitation of the border. This, of course, was agreeable to Fansdowne, who had found his plate full with Abdur Rahman’s ongoing intrigues among the Pathans. Durand was appointed to head up the Indian Government mission, and although he wrote that he expected Abdur Rahman to be “extremely unpleasant,” he added that “the thing must be done, and … I think I shall be able to persuade him … to be reasonable about our frontier.”

Durand got a welcome surprise. Arriving in Kabul in early November 1893, I looked in vain for my old acquaintance . . . with his Henry the Eighth face and ready scowl. I suppose the scowl is ready still when wanted, but the Amir of today is a quiet, gentlemanly man; his manner and voice so softened and refined that I could hardly believe that it [p.241] was really Abdur Rahman. I trust all his extreme pleasantness does not mean a proportionately stiff back in business matters.”

Nor did it. Although Abdur Rahman took the precaution of hiding one of his ministers behind a curtain to write a verbatim account of the proceedings, the frontier dispute was swiftly and amicably ironed out. On November 12, perhaps to Durand’s amazement, Abdur Rahman put his signature and seal on a treaty renouncing all claims to a band of territory extending from the Hindu Kush to the westernmost limits of Baluchistan. The area particularly included the Khyber and Bolan passes, together with the previously contested northwest frontier regions of Bajaur, Dir, Swat, Buner, Tirah, the Kurram Valley and VVaziristan. The treaty formalized the emergence of the British Empire’s longest land frontier next to the United States-Canadian border. It was a concession on a grand scale.

It was also not entirely explicable. With scarcely a demurral, Abdur Rahman had surrendered nearly all of the land in which the British presence had been stirring his anxieties and fury for years. At least one British historian has claimed that the agreement was signed under duress, and, although this cannot be ruled out, there is also reason to believe that the Amir may have been inadvertently bamboozled. “It is possible,” writes Fraser-Tytler, “that in spite of Durand’s careful and lucid explanations [Abdur Rahman] did not really take in all the implications of the line drawn on the map before him, but was too conceited to say so.”

Thus he simply may not have known how much he was giving away. In any case, the Frontier question was settled at last. Durand returned to India with a bright feather in his cap.

It hardly needs saying that the treaty created more problems than it solved. Although the 1893 boundary—commonly known as the Durand Fine—has not changed to this day, it has come under continual and often severe criticism for its flaws. Fraser-Tytler calls it “illogical from the point of view of ethnography, of strategy and of geography,” noting particularly that “it splits a nation in two, and it even divides tribes.” This arbitrary amputation could barely be justified, even on grounds of geopolitical expediency. Despite the cantankerous independence of the Frontier Pathans, they were by history, tradition, race, language and temperament Afghans. If their allegiance to the Amir was spotty at best, they were even less suited to becoming subjects of the Queen; trying to absorb them and their lands into British India was like trying to graft a cactus spine to the trunk of an oak tree.

Since this is getting long, I’ll save the Amir’s Autobiography for a following post.

[Enon]

The Life of Abdur Rahman, Amir of Afghanistan
by 'Abd al-Rahman Khan, Amir of Afghanistan
Edited by Sultan Muhammad Khan, Secretary of State of Afghanistan

NOTE BY THE PUBLISHER
[. . . .]
The first eleven chapters, containing the narrative of his early life; of the strange vicissitudes through which he had to pass; of his adventures, successes and failures; of his eleven years’ residence, or rather imprisonment, in Russian Turkestan, and, finally, of his accession to the Afghan throne, are written by himself. The MS. was brought to England from Kabul by Miss Lillias Hamilton, M.D., and translated from the Persian original by Sultan Mahomed Khan.

The remaining chapters, consisting of an account of the work which he has achieved in consolidating and developing the powers and resources of his country; of his domestic and foreign policy; of his personal life and occupations, and of his advice to, and aspirations for, his successors, were taken down at different times by Sultan Mahomed Khan from the Amir’s own words.
[. . . .]
It would hardly have been possible to do it at all without the invaluable assistance of Mrs Sutton Marshall, who acted as Sultan Mahomed Khan’s secretary for some time while he was at Cambridge, and who had consequently derived an intimate knowledge of his intentions and wishes in regard to the book.

Miss Lillias Hamilton, M.D., who was for some years the Amir’s medical adviser in Kabul, has also been most kind in answering various questions which her personal knowledge of the country and its inhabitants enabled her to do with authority.
[. . . .]
JOHN MURRAY.
50 Albemarle Street.
October 1900.

PREFACE
BY THE EDITOR, SULTAN MAHOMED KHAN,
MIR MUNSHI TO THE AMIR
ADVANCED STUDENT OF CHRIST’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
SECRETARY OF STATE OF AFGHANISTAN; BARRISTER-AT-LAW

I do not think it necessary to waste time in trying to prove that the Amir Abdur Rahman Khan is one of the greatest men now living. All the European Statesmen who have come in personal contact with him have formed this opinion, and his remarkable achievement in turning Afghanistan, which before his time was a mere barren piece of land full of barbarous tribes, into a consolidated Muslim Kingdom and centre of manufactures and modern inventions, speaks for itself, and shows his marvellous genius.
[. . . .]

In addition to its being a book of great political significance, it is like a chapter of the “Arabian Nights,” for the reader cannot help being interested to notice that a monarch like the Amir, setting aside the idea of boasting, should condescend to make a clear statement of how he was a prisoner in fetters at one time, and a cook at another ; a Viceroy at one time, and a subject of the Viceroys at another; a general at one time, and under the command of the general at another; an engineer and blacksmith at one time, and a ruler at another. In one place he paints himself as a gardener and a peasant, and in another place mentions the grand reception accorded to him by the Russian, British, Persian, and Bokhara Governments. At one time he places his uncle, Amir Azim, on the throne, and at another he is shown to have been forced by him to leave Kabul. Once a ruler, and then a subject without even a loaf of bread to eat, and so on. The one thing which will puzzle the mind of many European readers of the book will be the fact of such an acknowledged experienced traveller and statesman writing in his book his religious beliefs and superstitions. He says he was crowned by the prophet in his dreams; that he gained his victories by the help of an old flag which he secured from the tomb of a certain saint of Herat called Khwaja Ahrar; that he protected himself from the injuries of swords, guns, and rifles through the effect of a charm he wears round his arm; that he learned reading and writing through the love of a girl who was engaged to him. Being unable to read her letters, he remained unhappy till he was helped by the hidden mysteries of Heaven to read them. [. . . .]
SULTAN MAHOMED KHAN

The term “khilat” occurs frequently in the first chapter of the Autobiography; it refers to an embroidered silk robe often given as a special honor. Here is a picture in original color of the Emir of Bokhara wearing a khilat in 1911:

Although he was born a prince, and was acting as a magistrate and general as a young boy, Abdur Rahman’s year of birth is unknown, but was between 1840 and 1844, with the latter date more likely. To convert Islamic dates to AD, add 622.
The Internet Archive plain text file of this book was quite corrupt, some errors may remain. I encourage reading the facsimile version available at the link above.

CHAPTER I

EARLY YEARS

(CIRCA 1853-1864)

In the year of Hijira, when I was nine years old [Abdur Rahman was probably born in 1844], my father sent for me to go to Balkh from Kabul. My father was then King, and Viceroy of Balkh and of its dependencies. At the time of my arrival I found him besieging Shibarghan, and I remained at Balkh for two months, at the end of which period the conquest of Shibarghan was completed ; and, on my father’s return, I went ten miles south of Balkh to receive him at a place called Dasht-i-Imam (i.e. Desert of the Leader). My eyes were gladdened by the sight of my father, who knelt down and thanked God for my safety. We returned to Balkh together, and a few days after, he ordered me to begin my lessons. I tried to read and write all day, but I was very dull. I hated lessons, and my thoughts were too much occupied with riding and shooting. What I learned to-day I forgot to-morrow; but it was compulsory, and there was no getting out of it. My tutor tried hard to teach me with little success. At the end of a year a new school, with a garden attached, was built for me, at a place called Taktapul (Bridge of the Boards) in the suburbs of Balkh. The reason of this was, that Balkh was an old and unhealthy city, also that my father was accustomed to pray at the holy tomb of the King of the Saints, “Ali” Murtza. This blessed tomb was nearer Taktapul than Balkh ; and, in time, my father built his Harems, Courts, Cantonments, and workshops there. Gardens were also planted, and in three years a new and beautiful city sprang up.

In the spring of the fourth year my father went to Kabul to pay his respects to his father, the Amir Dost Mahomed Khan, appointing me viceroy in his place. My programme during the next six months was as follows.

Chapter I continued

The hours before 8 o’clock in the morning I employed in studying, and from 8 to 2 p.m. I held my Court. After dismissing my Court, I slept ; and, late in the afternoon, I rode my horse for the sake of the fresh air. At the beginning of the winter my father wrote to me from Kabul that my grandfather had graciously bestowed upon me the honour of the Governorship of Tashkurghan, for which place I was to start immediately, accompanied by 1000 sowars, 2000 militia, and six guns. In accordance with these instructions I set out for Tashkurghan, and on my arrival there, Sirdar Mahomed Amin Khan (brother of Wazir Mahomed Akbar Khan) set out for Kabul, first handing over to me the Governorship of the place. My father had appointed an assistant for me, called Haidar Khan. This gentleman, who was a dignified and clever man, was a Kizal Bash chief, who had authority to keep his own flag, a military band, and 200 sowars. His father, Mahomed Khan, was an able man, and had a large number of followers at Kabul. My programme at the time was as follows : From early morning till 9 a.m. study. From 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. holding my Court, hearing cases, and settling the disputes of my subjects. After 2 p.m. I slept, and later practiced different kinds of military exercise, big shooting, riding, polo, etc. Friday being a holiday, I generally spent the whole day hunting, returning at night to the fort of Tashkurghan. Five months after my appointment my father and my mother (who had been in Kabul since I left) came to see me, and I was very glad to kiss their hands. My father stayed with me at Tashkurghan until the following spring, when he set out for Balkh, leaving my mother with me, and I continued my studies, and administered the Governorship of the districts. Being kindly disposed towards the army, and the subjects of Tashkurghan, many of whom were my personal attendants, I bestowed certain presents on the people, and reduced the fixed revenues on land when there was any failure in the crops.

At the end of two years my father returned, and requested that the accounts of the province should be submitted to him. On discovering my leniency he at once refused to allow the concessions I had made. I begged him not to insist on the repayment of the money, but he refused, saying he was obliged to do so, as the income of the country was so small, and the army so large. He stayed with us three months, collecting about one lakh of rupees, the amount I had exonerated my subjects from paying, and returned to

Balkh. On his departure I resigned the Governorship, stating that I was not invested with full power to govern according to my ideas. I left my assistant governor of Tashkurghan in my place, and took up my residence at Taktapul, again resuming my studies. On Thursday afternoons I always went shooting, re- turning the evening of the next day, after passing one night and two days out of doors. My shooting party as a rule consisted of nearly 200 dogs, hawks, falcons, and other birds of prey, 100 page-boys, and my mounted suite, numbering in all about 500. We generally chose to shoot and hunt in the jungles near the Oxus, but sometimes we passed our days fishing in the river called Bawina Kara, which is the only river of Hazhdah Nahr of Balkh.

At this time Wazir Yar Mahomed Khan, Governor of Herat, wrote to my father, saying it was his pleasure to bestow on me his daughter’s hand in marriage. His request being granted, I was engaged, which strongly cemented the friendship between him and my father. Another great favourite of my father’s was Sirdar Abdur Rahim Khan of the family of Sirdar Rahinidad Khan. This man was very treacherous and ill-natured, jealousy being a hereditary disease in his family. He resented my influence at Court, thinking he would lose power if I had the charge of the army, so he made false accusations against me, often causing my father to be angry with me without cause. The head officer in my father’s army was an Englishman named General Shir Mahomed Khan, who had changed his religion. This officer, known in Europe by the name of Campbell, was captured by my grandfather’s army in 1250 (Hijira) at the battle of Kandahar against Shah Shujah. He was a very clever military officer, as well as a good doctor. His character was most heroic, and he had a great regard for me. He was one of the ablest men of his day, and occupied the position of Commander-in-Chief over the entire army of Balkh, numbering 30,500, out of which 15,000 were regulars, including cavalry, infantry, and artillery. The remainder consisted of militia soldiers, belonging to three races, Usbeg, Durani, and Kabuli. There were eighty guns, twelve having been sent from Kabul at the time of Sirdar Akram Khan’s governorship ; the rest being made in Kabul under the superintendence of my father. The army was in very good condition, being drilled regularly every day. One day Shir Mahomed Khan asked my father to place me under his instructions, so that before his death he might impart his knowledge to me. My father consenting to this, instructed me to go to the Governor for two or three hours daily, as much to train me as to prevent me wasting my time. I said "Ba chishm " (by my eyes), and went willingly. For two or three years I continued to be trained in surgery and military tactics. My father had also sent for a few rifle-makers from Kabul, and opened a workshop near my school. At mid-day, after my lessons and work were finished, I went to this school, and learned to do blacksmith’s work with my own hands, also the work of file-men. In this way I acquired the art of rifle- making, and I made three complete double rifles with my own hands. These were considered better than those made by my instructors. The before-mentioned Abdur Rahim Khan showed great jealousy of my progress, and began intriguing against me. One day he told my father I had contracted the habit of drinking wine and smoking Indian hemp. I had never done anything of the kind, but being very young, and very unhappy with these continual scoldings, I made up my mind to run away from Balkh to Herat, where my father-in-law lived. When I was privately making my preparations, my servants reported my intentions to my father, who made enquiries, and finding the report true, put me in prison, taking all my soldiers, slaves, and servants away from me. My foolish mistake had given colour to the accusations Abdur Rahim had been making against me. I was one year in prison, with chains on my ankles, and was very unhappy.

At the end of this time Shir Mahomed Khan died, and Abdur Rahim expected to be made General in his place, but my father suspecting him to be a traitor, appointed instead one of his trusted personal attendants of the Tukhi tribe, named Abdul Rauf Khan, son of Jafr Khan, who had proved himself a very brave soldier in many battles, and who was killed in the battle of Kandahar. This man was also a descendant of Jafr Khan, Wazir of Shah Husam Ghilzai, ruler of Kandahar. When he found himself selected for the post of Commander-in-Chief of the army, he refused to accept it, saying to my father that his own son, who had been one year in prison, and therefore punished sufficiently for his faults, was the proper person to take the place of Shir Mahomed Khan. My father at first refused to listen to such a proposal, saying Abdul Rauf must be mad to think the army could be placed under my care, but being urged to give me a trial, he finally consented to send for me.

I came straight from prison to appear before my father without dressing my hair or washing my face, wearing the same clothes in which he had last seen me, with chains around my ankles.

The moment he saw me his eyes filled with tears, and he said, “Why do you behave like this ?” I answered : “I have clone no wrong, it is the fault of those who call themselves your well-wishers that I am in this condition.” While I was speaking it happened that Abdur Kahim appeared in the Court, and on seeing him I continued : “This is the traitor who has placed me in chains; time will prove which of us is in the wrong.” At this Abdur Rahim changed colour with anxiety and anger, but he could do or say nothing. My father addressed himself to all the military officers, saying, “I appoint this my lunatic son to be General over you.” To which they replied: “God forbid that your son should be a lunatic: we know well that he is wise and sensible, you also will find this out, and will prove that it is disloyal people who give him a bad character.” My father then gave me leave to go and take up my duties. I was overjoyed, and went and refreshed myself with a Turkish bath. My servants meantime gathered round me, congratulating me on my release and good fortune.

The next day I took charge of the army, and inspected the workshops and magazines. I appointed General Amir Ahmad Khan (afterwards my representative in India), who was a commanding officer in the artillery, as a superintendent of the workshops, and Commandant Mahomed Zaman Khan as superintendent of the magazines. Sikander Khan (afterwards killed in a battle between the Russians and the King of Bokhara, and whose brother, Ghulam Haidar, is now Commander-in-Chief in Kabul [He died in 1897.]), with another of the same name but of the Barukzai tribe, I appointed as chief officers of battalions. I, myself, inspected all the different departments from morning till night, reporting the progress made daily to my father, who became more pleased every day. The army was so thoroughly organised that neither before nor since has it been in such good order. One of the reasons of this is that the present officials are over-luxurious. In the reign of Amir Shere Ali they were accustomed to take bribes and neglect their duties. Now they ought to be content with their salaries, doing their work regularly and well. A wise poet says : “Do not consort with thieves ; they may make some effect upon your minds.” By the grace of God my people may profit by my advice, and will gradually make progress.

My father being satisfied with my military services, gave me full authority over the entire army, keeping to himself the civil affairs of the country, with the accounts of the kingdom. After a short time my father went to Tashkurghan, to which place I accompanied him with my body-guard. On our arrival, Mir Atalik’s brother brought a letter with some presents for my father, who received him warmly, and persuaded him to return with a message for his brother, to the effect that as his country lay on the side of the Oxus river, and was in close connection with Afghanistan, he ought to consider himself under the protection of the reigning Amir of Kabul, Dost Mahomed Khan, instead of under the King of Bokhara, and ought to repeat the name of Dost Mahomed in his Khutba, as their present habit was an insult to Afghanistan. On receiving this message Mir Atalik lost his temper with his brother, and tried to imprison him, but he fled towards Tashkurghan. He, however, was pursued and overtaken by Mir Atalik’s sowars, at a place called Abdan. Hearing of this, we sent a force to assist him, but he was killed before they arrived, and all they could do was to defeat Mir Atalik’s sowars, and return with the dead body of his brother. Mir Atalik, hearing of the defeat of his sowars, went to complain to the King of Bokhara (Amir MuzafTar). This King had succeeded to the throne that year on the death of his father, and was staying at Hissar to quell a rebellion in that country. The King gave heed to Mir Atalik’s complaint, and sent him a flag and a tent, telling him to erect the tent in his country, with the flag in front, to frighten the Afghans. The credulous Mir, believing that this was all he needed, returned to Kataghan, and sent a defiance to us. My father reported his attitude to the Amir, who commanded him to send an army to take possession of Kataghan. My father invited his brother, Sirdar Azim Khan, to leave Kuram Khost (of which country he was Governor), and to come and see him. I was sent as far as Aibak to receive him.

In the spring, before the army was dispatched to Kataghan, I took six days’ leave to see that everything was thoroughly in order. Being satisfied that this was so, I invited my father to make a personal inspection also. He professed himself satisfied with my arrangements, and gave me a horse with gold harness and saddle, also a jewelled belt and sword, saying : “Go thou, God be with you, I leave you in His protection.” I kissed his hands, and two days later being appointed Commander-in-Chief of the army under my uncle Azim Khan, I started. On my arrival in the city of Tashkurghan, the people, with whom I was very popular, received me warmly. I encamped my force in the plain of Namazgah, and to show my gratitude to the people, I invited all the chiefs of the town to a banquet. They afterwards proved faithful to me and my army. In about fifteen days my uncle joined me, and together we started for Aibak, arriving there after a few days’ march. We halted three days, arranging provisions and transport animals, and from there marched towards the fort of Ghori, which was fortified by Mir Atalik’s infantry and cavalry. We reached this fort after five days’ march. On our arrival there, I arranged my troops, 20,000 in number, with 40 guns, in front of the fort, for the enemy’s benefit, after which display we encamped in a safe place. Late in the afternoon I inspected the situation of the fort, accompanied by a few officers, pointing out suitable places for guns, etc., also ordering that entrenchments should be made. Under cover of night I gave orders that underground mines should be laid towards the moat of the fort, and these were finished by the following morning.

In the afternoon Mir Atalik showed himself from the top of the hill, with 40,000 sowars, to his soldiers within the fort, to encourage them to make a brave resistance. On seeing him there, I forestalled any attacks he might make on our entrenchments, by an assault on his rear, with 2000 sowars, 12 mule-battery guns, and 4 battalions of infantry. The Mir was unaware of our approach until I ordered the heavy guns to be fired. At this sudden attack, being ignorant of the smallness of my force, he fled with all his army. I returned to my camp and inspected the mines until eleven o’clock that evening when, after seeing the sentries were at their posts, I retired to rest. At sunrise I inspected the troops, and sent 2000 to a distance of 12 miles as an advance guard, to provide for the safety of the transport animals, and against any unexpected attack of the enemy, also to keep me informed of their movements. Three days after, I received the intelligence that 15 miles distant were 8000 sowars, concealed in a place called Chasma-i-Shir (the Spring of Milk). The object of this manoeuvre evidently being to attack our transports on their way to and from the camp, I at once appointed 4000 sowars and 2 guns, under the command of Ghulam Mahomed Khan, Populzai, and Mahomed Alam Khan, to attack them. This they did so successfully that after a very slight skirmish the Kataghan sowars were defeated, and 2000 were taken prisoners. The remainder fled to Baghlan, where their Mir was encamped.

When this news reached Kataghan, Mir Atalik being encamped only 18 miles distant lost courage, and retired towards Kunduz. Of the sowars I had sent to Chasma-i-Shir, 1000 remained in possession of Baghlan, while the others returned to my camp in triumph. My uncle bestowed rewards on those who had distinguished themselves in battle, and khilats [embroidered silk robes of honour] on others.

In the afternoon of the same day I visited the entrenchments, and spoke from behind to the soldiers in the fort, saying: “You people are Muslims, and I also am a Muslim. You have seen the defeat of your Mir, therefore it is folly to continue killing my Muslims and being yourselves killed by them. Leave the fort to me, and I will make terms to your satisfaction.” To this, they made no reply, and in the evening I appointed certain of my officers to attack the fort at daybreak in the following manner : First, they were to attack Sukila, a place outside the moat of the inner fort. This place was also surrounded by a moat. Before the attack was made I directed the heavy guns to be continually fired from sunrise to morning, the object being to alarm the enemy. Directly the guns ceased, a few soldiers were to make several attacks on different aspects of the fort, to draw attention from Sukila, the real point of attack. The greater part of my force was to approach this latter place noiselessly, and, having scaled the walls, was to cry out loudly: " Ya chahar yar." [" Oh ! Four Friends."] All this was carried out as I instructed, the enemy- flying from the outer fort to the inner one. The moat surrounding this fort was ten yards deep, and twenty-three yards in width. Fortunately, the water was exceedingly clear, which enabled my officers to observe a hidden bridge composed of wattled cane, which had been constructed about thirty-six inches under the surface of the water. With loud cries of triumph they plunged into the water, and waded to the opposite side. The soldiers immediately followed, and taking possession of the bazaars, they made holes in the walls, through which they fired at the people within the fort.

[Enon]

The Life of Abdur Rahman, Amir of Afghanistan
by 'Abd al-Rahman Khan, Amir of Afghanistan
Edited by Sultan Muhammad Khan, Secretary of State of Afghanistan

Chapter I, second part

While this was happening, I wrote a letter to the Governor in charge of the fort, saying that if he surrendered, I would spare the lives and property of his sowars, and would look upon them as my subjects. I ordered the firing to cease, and sent this letter by one of my prisoners. The Governor and chief officers of the fort came out to answer me personally, and discuss the terms of surrender. They agreed to my conditions, and opened the gates, the inhabitants streaming out in large numbers. The majority of these I sent to my uncle, who bestowed khilats on the chiefs, after which he dismissed them to their homes. Their number was fully 10,000, but their Mir having no knowledge of war, had only allowed them provisions for ten days, and had I delayed my attack, they would have been obliged to surrender. Their Mir evidently thought the tent and flag bestowed on them by the King of Bokhara was alone sufficient to sustain a large army. God be praised for having created so wise a people !

The followers of Mir Atalik were overjoyed and surprised at our kind treatment, as their chiefs had told them so much of the cruelty of the Afghans. Their fears being now dissipated, they deserted in large numbers, and returned to their homes. The Mir left Kataghan with a few faithful followers, and took refuge in Rustak, under the rule of the Mirs of Badakshan. On receiving this news, we immediately marched from Ghori to Baghlan, his capital, and from there sent letters to all the chiefs of the country, giving them every promise of our support, and on some bestowing khilats. We also appointed governors and magistrates of the religious courts. After this I left Baghlan for Khanabad, encamping on a high ground near the river bank. I sent 2 battalions, 1000 Usbeg militia sowars, 500 Afghan sowars, 500 militia infantry, with 6 mule-guns, towards Talikhan. The commanding officer of this force, Mahomed Yamen Khan, son of the great Amir Dost Mahomed Khan, was appointed by my uncle to be Sirdar. The army arrived at Talikhan after crossing the Bargi river, and immediately made entrenchments near the fort, destroying it in a short time. My uncle and I. meantime, were busy in Khanabad, making every alteration necessary in a captured city, one of these being that my grandfather’s name was inserted in the prayer-books.

Shortly after this, the people of Andarab and Khost, being persuaded by Mir Atalik and the Mirs of Badakshan to rebel, attacked their Governor, to whose assistance I sent 4000 soldiers from Khanabad under the command of Sirdar Mahomed Omar and others. My grandfather dispatched Sirdar Mahomed Sharif Khan from Kabul, with 2 battalions and 1000 militia infantry, 1000 cavalry, and G guns. The two armies united at a place called Buzdara, where they fought, and severely punished the rebels, who lost 2000 men, killed and wounded, in the field.

After this victory the two forces returned to Khanabad and Kabul, leaving 500 men with the Governor at Andarab. The Mir of Kataghan, on hearing of the destruction of the fort of Talikhan, left Rustak, and crossing the Oxus took up his residence in a place called Syad, near Kolab. The Mir of Kolab at that time was Mir Sarabeg, afterwards defeated by the King of Bokhara. Being obliged to leave his kingdom, he came to Kabul, where he became a highly respected member of my Court. Being a relation of Mir Atalik, he allowed him 10,000 sowars, while the Badakshan people gave him 10,000. This force, with 2000 of his own men, jointly attacked the provinces near the camp, and the forts of Hazrat, Imam and Talikhan, and plundered all the transport animals they could capture. The sowars whom I had employed as advance guards constantly came in contact with these men, and as many as one or two hundred were killed on both sides. Those captured I had blown from the guns. The total number punished in this way, during the three years of the rebellion, amounted to 5000. Those killed by my army were about 10,000.

After a year passed in endeavouring to quell the rebellion, Sirdar Yamen Khan wrote to say he had not sufficient troops to resist 15,000 families of the enemies of Badakshan ; that he must either receive reinforcements, or retire. Receiving no reply, he finally started for Khanabad without permission. My uncle and I consulted together. I suggested that I should go and fight in his place, and I said that, with God’s help, I would put the country to rights without further assistance than 6 mule-battery guns, and 5000 sowars. My uncle replied that it was a very difficult matter, and that being a young man without a beard yet, I might lose courage. I said I would show him if this was so, and I started the same day. After a long march I reached Talikhan. The army was delighted to see me, and Sirdar Yameu Khan met me on the way. Although he was my uncle, and far older than I, being proved a coward, I turned my face from him, and would not say anything but that he was a disgrace to his celebrated father, Dost Mahomed.

Two days after my arrival, the populations of Rustak and Badakshan, under the instructions of Mir Yusif Ali, brother to Mir Shah of Faizabad, appointed 2000 or 3000 sowars to plunder the country round my camp, and in the valley of Talikhan. They suddenly attacked my pony and camel transport animals, which were bringing provisions under the charge of 200 militia soldiers and 50 sowars. These men at once dispatched a messenger with the news of their plight to me, and at the same time defended themselves as best they could. On receiving their message I hurriedly sent 700 soldiers to their aid, who defeated the plunderers, bringing the camels and ponies safely back to camp. Two days later the rebellious force attacked those villages which rendered their allegiance to me, and I again sent a strong force and dispersed the rebels, taking ten prisoners, and capturing 200 horses.

This kind of tiling lasted for three months till one day an Ashan, who was an ecclesiastical leader of the Mirs of Kataghan, invited me to dinner. I accepted his invitation, taking with me 300 cavalry and 200 militia sowars. His house was only two miles from my camp, and unknown to him I sent 100 sowars as an advance guard to surround the house some distance off. After some conversation with my host dinner was announced, and almost at the same time one of my advance guard brought me news that a large army had attacked them, and they were being obliged to retire slowly. I immediately took my host and his sons prisoners, and started to join my men. At the same time I sent a horseman to my camp demanding that 1000 sowars, 1 battalion, and 2 guns should be sent at once to my assistance, suggesting that the gunners and infantry should ride behind the cavalry to save time. Finding the rebel army amounted to about 10,000 in number, and were marching towards us, I divided my small army into eight divisions, stationing each division some distance from the other, and keeping the largest division with me. The first of these I ordered to fire, and when they were surrounded as I expected, the second division were to open fire, and when they were surrounded the third was to make an attack, and so on, until they were all engaged, and it remained for me with the largest division to draw our swords and engage the enemy. Meanwhile reinforcements from the camp arrived, and I made a general attack. The rebels, exhausted and divided by reason of having to face so many divisions of my army, were so thoroughly defeated that leaving their wounded — 100 dead, and 400 prisoners — in our hands, they fled, whilst only 100 of my soldiers were killed. I thanked God for so complete a victory over such superior numbers, and there was much rejoicing among us. Amongst my prisoners were ten or twelve chiefs of the Rustak people, who abused the Ashan ecclesiastic, saying he was the cause of their imprisonment, as he had written to their Mirs of his intention to invite the Commander of the Afghan army to deliver him up into their hands, if they could send a sufficient army to defeat his body-guard. In expectation of success the Mirs had sent these chiefs with 10,000 sowars, only to fall prisoners into my hands. Late that night I returned to camp, and reported the matter to my uncle in Khanabad, sending the Ashan priest also as a prisoner. The wounded I placed under the care of the surgeons, and when they were recovered I presented some of them with khilats, and others with their traveling expenses and dismissed them, instructing them to persuade their people to give up their habit of robbery. I also sent a message to their Mir to the effect that if he desired to go to war, he and his brother should openly do so, instead of resorting to the treachery of sending an envoy to my father at Taktapul to assure him of their friendship, when all the time they were conspiring against him. I also instructed them to say, that if my father wished me to conquer Badakshan, the Mir had not sufficient strength to stand against me for six hours. The Kataghan prisoners I did not release, but sent a message to inform their relations (who had left the country, and settled under the King of Bokhara) that unless they returned to their homes I would execute all the prisoners then in my hands. I persuaded these men themselves to communicate with their friends, admonishing them to return without fear. The result of this was that a few Kataghan priests came as their representatives to make terms with me. I gave them an oath in the name of God, that if their people did nothing to injure the Government of Afghanistan, and would prove themselves peaceful and loyal subjects, I would look upon them as my own people, and would protect their interests. On the priests returning with these my assurances, all the 2000 families returned to their homes, and settled at Talikhan.

The message I had sent by the Badakshan prisoners to the obstinate Mir Yusif Ali, had no effect on his mind, and he continued his habit of robbery and plunder. After a few weeks of peace, he consulted with the Mir of Kataghan, the Mir of Kolab, and his brother Mir Shah, and managed to persuade them that the only way to gain a decisive victory over me, was to combine their forces, and make two desperate attacks simultaneously in two different places, viz. Talikhan and dial. In this latter place were stationed 400 infantry soldiers, 400 militia, 500 sowars, and 2 mule-battery guns, under the command of a brave experienced officer called Sirdar Mahomed Alam Khan. The plan of attack was as follows : — A small body of men were to pillage the surrounding country to deceive us into thinking there was no organised army, but merely a handful of robbers. At the same time, about 30,000 sowars were to hide themselves in the gardens of Talikhan at night under the command of Mir Ali Wali (a cousin of Mir Atalik). The following morning 100 of these rebels coming out of their hiding-place plundered 100 camels, which had been let out to graze, and the officers of the advance guard carelessly sent 200 sowars to beat back the rebels, and secure the safety of the camels. On learning what had been done, I explained to the officer that he had made a mistake in sending so small a force without first ascertaining the strength of the enemy, as I felt convinced that 100 sowars would not have interfered with my camels so near the advance guard, unless their force were concealed near by, and I ordered the entire army to be prepared for war immediately. As it turned out, I was right, for by the time the men were ready, we perceived our sowars, of whom only 160 had escaped with their lives, headed by one of my bravest officers, flying towards us pursued by 40,000 of the enemy. I had taken the precaution to place my guns with 200 infantry on the top of a hill called Ortabuz, and had instructed the gunners not to fire until the word of command was given. I also placed 1000 infantry on the right of the enemy, and 500 on the left, and with the remainder of the cavalry and infantry I faced the enemy outside the entrenchments. When the armies were fully engaged in battle, and the enemy’s attention was entirely occupied, I sent the gunners to the rear, and ordered the infantry on their right and left to fire, and redoubling my attack in their front, they became bewildered at the sharp showers of shell and bullets from all directions, and, not knowing the extent of my force, lost ground, and turning round faced the gunners. On observing them waver I incited the cavalry to a renewed attack, which broke their ranks, and the rout was complete. The battle had lasted nine hours, the rebels losing 3000 dead in the field, whilst our losses were estimated at 100 dead and a number wounded. We also took 600 prisoners with 5000 horses. I ordered a tower to be erected out of the heads of the dead rebels to strike fear into the hearts of those still alive. I then wrote a full report of this great victory to my uncle, congratulating him on our triumph.

The rebels of dial offered but slight resistance, being only 12,000 in number. They were commanded by Mir Bababee^ and Mir Sultan Murad. After a short skirmish they broke and fled with their wounded, leaving 100 dead on the field. Mir Bababeg fell from his horse, breaking his leg, and was carried away by his followers. After this decisive victory the Mirs of Badakshan felt convinced they could not face the trained Afghan soldiers in the open field of battle, and that their only hope was to continue their system of plunder and treachery.

About this time Mir Muzaffar, the King of Bokhara, being anxious to see what treatment the Afghans showed to the people of Badakshan, crossed the Oxus, and took up his residence at Charikar. My father, having only 10,500 men in his army, and doubting the friendly relations of Mir Muzaffar, wrote to my uncle to keep 12,000 Charkhi soldiers out of the 20,000 he now had, and to send 8000 men under my command to reinforce him. This number would enable him to protect the country, and to fight if called upon to do so. There was also a possibility of a general rebellion among our Usbeg subjects, who were of the same nationality as the King of Bokhara. My uncle having very little knowledge of the country of Turkestan, became alarmed at this prospect, and wrote me to leave possession of Talikhan and start for Khanabad with my army. 1 answered that it would be better for me to hold my- self in readiness to start if required, as it would be imprudent to leave a country so lately conquered after so many struggles and difficulties, with no army to protect our interests. But my uncle would not listen to reason, and again wrote insisting on my starting immediately. So there was nothing to do but obey, and the next morning I started early with my whole army. Not having sufficient transport animals to carry all the ammunition, I arranged that the remainder should be divided among the infantry and sowars, each man to carry a little extra weight. As there would be considerable difficulty in providing the army with food on the way to Khanabad, I sent 100 sowars to plunder and carry away as many sheep as they could from a flock of 15,000 belonging to the Ortabuz people.

I then divided my army into three divisions — the advance guard under Sirdar Shams-ud-din Khan, son of Sirdar Amin Mahomed Khan ; the militia, infantry, and part of the cavalry to form the centre division with four guns ; and the third and last division with the whole of the artillery, the remainder of the infantry, and one-third of the cavalry. The 100 sowars who had been sent to obtain sheep, joined me at a village called Khwaja Changal. The Talikhan people being encouraged by our sudden march, followed us from the rear, in number about 5000 to 6000 sowars, but they had not the courage to attack us. To put an end to this, I ordered one battalion of soldiers to hide themselves in a cave about 1000 yards in length on the road-side, instructing them to fire when the rebels passed by.

My orders were carried out as arranged, and at the sound of firing my men turned and attacked them from the front. This sudden onslaught from front and rear completely overwhelmed the sowars, who fled in all directions, some throwing themselves into the river, others climbing to the tops of hills, to escape our bullets. Including men lost in this way, their casualties amounted to 400. We continued our way unmolested towards Khanabad, and at night-fall one of our guns fell into a river as we were crossing it. The soldiers failing to recover it, I dismounted, and with a few others, managed to bring the gun to the opposite bank, but my clothes were very wet, and I could not leave the army to change, whilst the soldiers dried theirs by setting fire to the dry bushes of the jungle. About two o’clock, when we were nearing Khanabad, we heard the sound of heavy firing, evidently coming from the direction of my uncle’s camp. Sirdar Shams-ud-din Khan suggested that the guns belonged to the Usbeg sowars, who must have plundered my uncle’s camp, and that our best course was to escape towards Kabul. I replied that in the year 1257 I had heard people admiring his bravery in the battle fought against the English, and where was that bravery now? At which he remained silent. I sent six sowars to my uncle, saying I had heard firing proceeding from his camp, and I had determined to remain where I was, but was ready to fight if necessary in any direction, on receiving a summons from him. In an hour’s time a man came galloping to me with the news that the guns were fired by my uncle to celebrate the fact that the King of Bokhara had fled across the Oxus from Bosaga.

Now, one of my father’s personal attendants, a brave and experienced man, a very lion in the field of battle, named Ghulam Ali Khan, had the care of the chief frontier guards of the Oxus ; he was also governor of three Nahrs of Hazhda Nahr. This man had gone to Karki and Bosaga on a visit of inspection to the frontier. When he came across 2000 sowars belonging to the King of Bokhara, they immediately exchanged shots, and after a small skirmish fled towards the camp of Mir Muzaffar. The Mir marched towards Bokhara, leaving a part of his luggage and tents behind. These were captured by Ghulam Ali, who distributed the baggage as booty to the soldiers, sending the tents of the king to my father. At this good news I started at once to my uncle, and congratulated him on our mutual good fortune. Receiving his permission the following day, I sent 2 battalions, 1 regiment of cavalry, 2 guns, and 500 militia soldiers to Talikhan to let the people know that we had not yet given up possession of their city. I also sent a message to the effect that if the people of Badakshan misbehaved again, I should arrive there with reinforcements without loss of time.

Meantime I remained in Khanabad, putting the army (which I had not seen for five months) in order. When the Talikhan people found that the army, so lately got rid of, had returned, and there was no hope of evading the Afghan rule, they offered the cousin of Mir Shah in marriage to my uncle, who accepted her with great pleasure. I was greatly averse to this alliance, and expatiated on the drawbacks of a union with so treacherous a people, craving rather my uncle’s permission to go and take Badakshan by force, and so rid ourselves of the trouble of an untrustworthy enemy, or so-called ally, who would always be a thorn in our flesh. My uncle, however, would not listen, and ate the sweets of his engagement.

The Mirs of Badakshan, being satisfied with the turn which affairs had taken, sent Mir Yusif Ali (a very treacherous man) with promises of loyalty and many presents to my uncle, who entirely changed his mind about conquering the country. At this time my mother, taking advantage of the general peacefulness of affairs, begged my father to allow me to go to see her. He consented, and wrote to me to join them at Taktapul. I left the army in charge of the colonels and commandants, and started with a body-guard of 400 sowars. On my way I halted at Tashkurghan, and from there visited the blessed tomb of the King of the Saints. I rubbed my face on the gates to give light to my eyes from the light of his tomb, and comfort to my heart from the help of his soul, and continued my way to Taktapul. On my arrival I kissed the hands of my parents, who gave much charity to the poor in token of their pleasure at seeing me, all my relations doing the same according; to their means. The next day I inspected the magazines, workshops, and stores, and finding them in good order, I added to the salaries of their superintendents, also giving away khilats to those of good character. All the tents and other requisites required by my army at Kataghan I ordered to be made at the workshops. These were completed and sent in less than a month.

For the space of one year I was occupied with the administration of the Taktapul army, at the end of which time, in the spring, I started for Kataghan. One curious accident which I may mention happened to me on my way there. At one of our halting-places, called Kazwinar (which means, " The playing-place of the girls "), I went to take a walk on the surrounding hills where the transport animals were grazing. I happened to have missed my soldiers, when a wild camel attacked me. I had no arms save a small dagger in my belt, so I began running round and round a large stone. The camel followed me many times round the stone, till I was well-nigh exhausted, and, finding none of my soldiers had arrived, I was obliged in self-preservation to stop and face the camel, and picking up a big stone, I hit him as hard as I could on the ear, which knocked him on his knees. Before he had time to rise I drew my dagger and cut his throat, the blood spurting all over me. Seeing the animal dying before me, and being worn out, I fainted, and must have remained un- conscious for an hour. On recovering my senses I was delighted to find the camel quite dead. To punish my servants for so long neglecting me, I ordered each one to receive thirty strokes, and made it a rule, that during any private business, which necessitates my leaving my body-guard for any short time, two or three confidential people must always be near me. This world is beset with dangers !

I found the army of Kataghan very pleased to see me, and I conveyed to the soldiers a message from my father, that he looked upon them all as sons, and felt the same fatherly affection for them as he felt for me, Abdur Rahman. At this they cried out with joy, saying : “Every one of us will sacrifice his life for our father, Sirdar Mahomed Afzul Khan.” I also conveyed my father’s compliments, with kind messages, to my uncle ; after which I retired to my house, where the military had arranged a banquet, with fireworks afterwards, in my honour. The following day I went my usual round of inspection to the magazines, stores, and artillery, thanking God that I found everything in such good order. The next day I ordered a grand review to take place.

After a week’s stay I went to see the army in Talikhan, which I also found in a very satisfactory con- dition. The Mirs of Badakshan, hearing of my arrival, sent me as presents six handsome slave boys, nine horses complete with silver harness and saddles, nine bags of honey, five hawks, and two hounds. In return I sent the Mirs khilats and other presents, besides a letter reminding them that when I was last in Talikhan they had promised to give me the possession of certain mines, consisting of one topaz, five gold, one lapis lazuli, one malachite, and others, but that when I had made enquiries from my uncle, I found they had not done so. On receiving my letter they authorised me to take possession of them, which I did, forwarding some of the precious stones with the other presents to my father.

The events of the following two years are not worth recording. At the end of this time my uncle was recalled by my father, and Sirdar Abdul Ghais Khan, my father’s cousin, was appointed Governor. [[Decades later] His son, Abdul Rashid, was made Governor of Jellalabad by me (1897), and dismissed, owing to his cruelty and oppression.] My uncle stayed a short time in Kabul, after which he left for his own states of Kuram Khost. I met him in Shuri on the way thither, and received an invitation from my father to meet him in Aibak, and to accompany him to Balkh. Giving careful instructions as to the proper care of my army, to the officers in Khanabad, I went to Aibak and kissed my father’s hands, and we started together for Taktapul, where we remained during the whole winter.

[Enon]

The Life of Abdur Rahman, Amir of Afghanistan
by 'Abd al-Rahman Khan, Amir of Afghanistan
Edited by Sultan Muhammad Khan, Secretary of State of Afghanistan

Chapter I, final part

In the spring, at Noroz (New Year’s Day), Sirdar Abdul Ghais died of the plague, and trouble also broke out at Herat, of which country Sirdar Sultan Ahmad Khan, my grandfather’s nephew, and an official of the Shah of Persia were Governors. This man had caused a disturbance in the provinces of Kandahar, and my grandfather, Dost Mahomed, set out with my uncle to punish him. They besieged the fort of Herat for several months, and in March my father and I were rejoiced to receive tidings at Balkh of the victory of Farah (in the province of Herat). After thanksgivings which this good news occasioned, my father sent me to Khanabad as Governor-General of the army. I found the country in very bad order. The Governors of each town had consumed the revenues of their districts themselves, and the late Sirdar had known nothing of what had gone on, being more of a doctor than a governor, who spent most of his time in prescribing for the people. He was, however, such a coward, that he had been frightened by the threats of a Mir of Badakshan into releasing a thief who had been justly imprisoned. This man (Mir Shah), who had so abused his office, was dead, and had been succeeded by his son, Mir Jahandar Shah. Mir Yusif Ali, his brother, had been murdered by his nephew, Mir Shah Syad, a year before my arrival ; and this man’s son had succeeded, although he was partly a lunatic, an opium smoker, and a drunkard. Mir Bababeg Khan, ruler of Kishm (whose father died before the two brothers), had fallen in love with the widow of Mir Shah, sister of Yusif Ali. Their engagement was announced, when, furious at this turn of events, Jahandar Shah attacked Kishm, and taking Bababeg prisoner, married his step-mother himself, boasting that he had married his own mother. Shortly after this, Mir Bababeg escaped from prison just before my arrival, and fled to Khanabad. I found also that the soldiers had not received their pay for eight months of the past year and four of the present. My first care was to collect the revenues and arrears of money due from all the Governors, and to discharge this debt. The officers of two battalions and 400 sowars of my uncle’s army were also stationed at Khanabad, and these men had taken advantage of the apathy of the late Sirdar to collect and spend the revenues of the country to a large amount. My arrival, which put an end to their malpractices, was keenly resented by them, and their first attempt at revenge was to induce the army to rebel and desert to Kabul. My cousin, Mir Aziz, who was in Kabul, and the nominal head of his father’s army, being only eleven years old, was completely under the bad influence of his tutors and guardians, who were all allied with the officers of the battalion above-mentioned. These men instilled into the minds of the soldiers that the country belonged to their master, and it was foolish to submit to Abdur Rahman’s interference and governorship. They further suggested that they should all go to Kabul with the son of their real master.

All this made a great impression on the minds of the ignorant soldiers, and to add to this, we received news of my grandfather’s death. Encouraged by this sad news, the soldiers of the two battalions and cavalry surrounded my house, and tried to force the doors with large stones. My army turned out and quickly dispersed the rebels, who fled to Kabul, but their disloyal officers who had brought them to this state of bad behaviour, thought it better not to accompany them. After waiting three days, the soldiers lost heart, and wrote me a letter, begging to be forgiven, adding that they had been deceived by their officers. I replied, requesting the names of those who had incited them to rebel, and on receipt of this information I promised pardon to all the others. I added, that if they refused to send me these names, they could continue their way to Kabul, as I had no need of their services. In reply, they sent a list, including the names of eight captains, and sub-lieutenants, with the commandants of the army, and concluded with the guardians and tutor of Mahomed Aziz, saying that these men had sworn on the Koran to unite against me. After this explanation I pardoned the soldiers, and sentenced the eight captains to be blown from the guns, the commandants of the corps I dismissed, as they had been my uncle’s page-boys ; so for the time being, the country was restored to tranquility.

As soon as the news of my grandfather’s death reached Mir Atalik, he sent his son Sultan Murad Khan to Kataghan to stir up the subjects to rebellion. I appointed a strong force, comprising 3 battalions, 12 guns, 1000 cavalry sowars, and 2000 militia infantry, under Sirdar Mahomed Alam, and Sirdar Ghulam Khan, to punish the rebels. I intended to meet the enemy at Narin by the road of Shorab (Bitter Waters). An unfortunate incident occurred at the commencement of the campaign. Sirdar Alam was in the habit of marching at the head of his army, accompanied by 200 sowars. He had been repeatedly warned how imprudent it was for a chief officer to expose himself without an advance guard. One day he was suddenly attacked by 2000 Kataghan sowars, who had concealed themselves behind the hills. The followers of Alam fled on becoming aware of the number of the rebels ; but the Sirdar, being unaccustomed to surrender, stood with a few brave men and fought till they were all cut to pieces. When tidings of this reached the advancing army, a detachment of cavalry galloped after the rebels before they could carry the dead body of the Sirdar away, and after a severe fight defeated the Kataghan sowars, who fled towards Narin, leaving 300 dead and wounded on the field.

The day following this encounter a decisive battle was fought at Narin, where 40,000 rebels were massed together. The attack began at sunrise, and continued till late in the afternoon, resulting in the flight of the enemy, who fought very bravely, continually making fresh attacks. My losses were very slight in comparison to theirs, being only thirty killed and wounded, including Sirdar Ghulam Khan. The reason of so slight a loss on our side was the order in which the army was arranged, while the enemy being unskilled in warfare were massed together, so that our guns did great execution. I was proud of my army that day. The manner in which they fought was worthy of admiration; only those persons can appreciate this who know what it is to be attacked by such a large body of men, and not lose courage. The appearance of 40,000 men on a desert plain is like the movement of a mountain.

One of the spies, whom I had appointed in Kataghan to procure me information, was taken prisoner by Sultan Murad Khan. When the news of my victory reached Kataghan he was assisted to escape, and taking a horse came straight to me ; but on arrival he fainted. When he recovered consciousness he told me that each day during his imprisonment he had received forty strokes of the lash. In corroboration of this, the surgeons told me that his body was as black as charcoal, which proved what he had gone through. He told me that all the people and families in Kataghan were trying to leave the country to secure their own safety. I immediately sent Naib Ghulam Khan Durani, a clever man (though dilatory), with cavalry and artillery to occupy the road at a narrow defile, though which these people would have to pass on their way to Badakshan. I also ordered the infantry of Talikhan to accompany the expedition. Having cut off their retreat, I sent the Kasi of Kunduz by the Shorab road, with two or three Mirs of Badakshan, who were very popular with the people, and had a great reputation amongst them. With these men I sent letters, promising pardon to the rebels. On finding their retreat cut off, and escape impossible, and perceiving their army was no match for mine, and, moreover, being satisfied with my promises through the Mirs and priests, they came to ask my pardon and forgiveness.

In reply, I issued a proclamation that I would overlook the rebellion on two conditions. The first of these was, that they should promise in the name of God and His prophet Mahomed, that they and their offspring would be faithful to the government of Afghanistan, and not be persuaded by their Mirs and chiefs to act contrary to the welfare of this same government. Secondly, that they should pay twelve lakhs of rupees as a fine for their misbehaviour.

After a short interval I received a reply in which the people unanimously agreed to the above-mentioned conditions, adding that they would be faithful to me and my sons, and would ever be ready to fight against my enemies, and serve me with their lives. They also expressed their gratitude at having been allowed to retain their property, which included camels and horses worth 20,000,000 rupees.

I sent this treaty to my father, and the people settled down quietly under my rule. The first thing I did was to collect fifteen lakhs of rupees, due for arrears of revenue, with which I paid the army all that was due to them.

About this time a certain class of Badakshan cloth merchants save me a good deal of trouble. It was customary for merchants, trading between Badakshan and Kataofhan, to ride on horseback between those places on certain days in the week, and it was found that on these special days for a long time past groups of dead bodies were constantly being discovered. To put an end to these murders, I appointed a few soldiers to watch the road without themselves appearing, and I also ordered some sowars, dressed as civilians, to travel to and fro, with instructions that if they were attacked they were to signal to the soldiers. It turned out as I desired, and one day the Badakshan merchants attacked the sowars, who immediately sent a man on a fast horse to give warning to the hidden soldiers. These galloped to the spot, and took some fifty merchants prisoners, who were brought before me. I distributed their arms, saddles and bridles among the sowars, gave their horses to the artillery, and the 10,000 rupees of which they were possessed I confiscated to the Government Treasury. On questioning these men, they owned they had acted as highwaymen for the past two years, owing to the contempt in which they held the Afghans, and although they offered 2000 rupees per head to purchase their lives, I ordered them all to be blown from the guns, as they had committed many crimes on my unoffending people. This punishment was carried out on market day, so that their flesh should be eaten by the dogs of the camp, and their bones remain lying about till the festival was over. When these were buried Mir Jahandar Shah, not being aware of all that had taken place, sent the same man to me who had acted as his envoy on the occasion when he had intimidated Abdul Ghaiz Khan into releasing a thief from prison. This man brought me a letter, in which he asked why I had dared to take his subjects prisoners, and requested that they should be handed over to him on receipt of this letter. If this were not done, he threatened to write to my father and uncle that I was trying to turn the people of Badakshan against him, their true friend. I read this letter aloud in the public audience, and asked the man if the Mir was in good health and quite sensible when he wrote it. He replied in these words : " My King, Mir Sahib, has commanded me to bring back your prisoners to him, without loss of time, or he will immediately take steps against you." To this I answered: “Do not lose your temper, consider a moment.” But he refused to be warned, and said again rudely : " Hand over the prisoners. How dare you imprison our people ? " Without further conversation I ordered my servants to pull out his beard and moustache, and to dye his eyebrows like a woman’s. I then took him to the place where the remains of the merchants lay, and put his beard and moustache in a gold cloth, advising him to take it to his Mir, both as a caution, and as a reply to the letter he had written me. With this man I sent a strong force, consisting of 2 battalions, 2000 cavalry sowars, 1000 Usbeg sowars, 2000 infantry, and 12 guns, under the command of Mahomed Zaman Khan and Sikander Khan, with Naib Ghulam Ahmad Khan, to Talikhan. When they arrived there the commanders sent this man with his reply to Mir Jahandar Shah, who abused him, and demanded to know why he had returned without the prisoners whom he had sent him to fetch. The man uncovered his face, and threw the gold cloth at the Mir’s feet, saying : " This is what I have suffered by carrying your idiotic messages, and this is what you will suffer, if you are not careful." The Mir, furious at this treatment, ordered his army to repair at once to Khanabad, when he received intelligence of the proximity of the Afghan army, which had already practically taken the country, and subdued the people.

On discovering the truth of this report, the Mir was overcome, and he lost heart. The chiefs, instead of trying to comfort him, said : " Your father saved himself from this dangerous man by offering his daughter in marriage ; you were foolish enough to send him rude messages." The Mir replied : " You were the counselors of my father, advise me what can be done ? " Upon this they took counsel together, and suggested that the Mir’s brother should go to salaam Abdur Rahman, with twenty chiefs, forty slave girls, and forty page-boys ; also that he should take many Chinese presents of silk, carpets, china, etc., and that Mir Shah should write a letter of apology, offering one of his sisters or cousins in marriage, so that by this ruse the Mir might manage to save his kingdom and himself from the fate of Mir Atalik. The Mir having no other course open to him, was obliged to do as his chiefs advised, and at once dispatched the apology and presents to me, at the same time writing to my officers to " delay taking action against him for God’s sake," till his brother should reach Khanabad, and they should receive further instructions as to the course they were to take. My officers received this letter at Gulugan, in Badakshan, where they had marched in three days, and they agreed to halt, sending a messenger to me to report what had happened. In due course Mir Shah’s brother arrived before me with 3000 servants and the letter in which Mir Shah had explained his behaviour on the plea that he was always intoxicated, and did not know what he was doing. I smiled, and told the chiefs that I considered his apology most reasonable. Having no real cause to quarrel with the Khanabad people, I received the messengers kindly, and agreed to forgive their Mir. I also gave them khilats, but refused the offer of Mir Shah’s niece in marriage, saying that as a daughter of his had married my uncle, there was sufficient relationship between the family. Thus ended, for the time being, the troubles of Badakshan.

I must repeat a wonderful experience, or inspiration, which came to me at this time, and about which it gives me much pleasure to write. One day when I was holding my Court, I received a letter from Amir Azim’s daughter who lived at Kabul, and who was betrothed to me. She had instructed her messenger to deliver the letter into my hands only, and that it was not to be shown to any one, and the reply was to be written and sealed by me. As I have before mentioned, I was never fond of reading and writing, and I had forgotten what little I had ever learned. Imagine my disappointment on receiving this letter ! I felt my heart beating, and I blamed myself very much that while I boasted of being such a fine man, I was really most unmanly, being so ignorant. On retiring that night I wept bitterly, and prayed to my God with all humility, beseeching the souls of the Saints to intercede for me. I repeated this prayer : “0 God, send a light into my heart, and enlighten my mind, so that I may read and write. Thou shalt not make me ashamed in the eyes of Thy creation.” At last, being overcome with weeping, towards morning I fell asleep. I dreamed that the figure of a holy man appeared to me. He was of middle size and very straight, with almond eyes, and delicate eyebrows, a long beard, and an oval-shaped face, also small long fingers. He wore a brown turban and a striped cloth around his loins, and carried a long staff, at the end of which was a piece of iron. He appeared to be standing at my head, and saying very quietly: " Abdur Rahman, rise and write." I awoke with a start, and seeing no one, I slept again, and again the same figure appeared to me, saying, " I say write, and instead you sleep." I hesitated, and awaking a second time, and seeing no one, I again fell asleep. For the third time the holy man appeared, saying with evident annoyance : “If you sleep again, I shall pierce your chest with my staff.” At this I was frightened and awoke, but not to sleep again. I called to my pages to bring pen and paper to me, and began thinking of the letters I used to write at school, the unseen power of God representing the shapes of the letters before my mind one after another. My memory helped me to recollect what I had read, and I scribbled on the paper one word and then another. In this way I finished a letter before sunrise of about sixty or seventy lines. Some of the letters were not joined and others hardly formed. When I read this over I found I could read it all, and I also noticed the mistakes, of which there were many.

I tore this up, and re-wrote it, being so happy and glad I could hardly contain myself. On rising that morning I opened one or two letters addressed to me from the governors, and finding I could understand the subject of the letters, my pleasure was multiplied ten times. When the hour arrived to attend the Court, the secretary, whose duty it was to read my letters, came to me as usual, but I said : " I will read my letters to-day, and you shall correct my mistakes." He smiled, and said : " But your Highness cannot read," at which I opened a letter saying, ''Hear if I can." With that I commenced to read, and dictated the replies. In this way we got through 200 letters, and answered 100. At the end of a few days I was quite independent of my secretary’s help, and read and answered my private letters myself. Some days after I re-read the Koran, and gave money away in the names of the Holy Saints and Prophets. I also wrote to my father an account of the providential help which enabled me to read and write. I sent this letter through my guardian, and when at first my father doubted the truth of my story, my guardian said : " You know your son could not write anything to you which was not the truth. How could he show his face to you if he told you a lie ? ': My father at last believed him, and presented him with 5000 tangas [A coin of Bokhara = 4d or I rupee (Kabul).] and a valuable khilat. To me he sent one gold-mounted sword, ten sheets of gold cloth, and a few pieces of woollen material. I praised God, and wrote my thanks to my father for his kindness.

No sooner had the countries of Badakshan and Kataghan settled down peacefully, than I experienced trouble with Kolab. The Mir of that country, named Shah Khan, appointed 2000 sowars to plunder 13,000 sheep belonging to the Kataghan people, which were grazing near the Oxus, as is the custom in the winter. Hearing of this, I sent 2000 sowars to release and return the sheep to their rightful owners. The plunderers had already succeeded in crossing the Oxus, and my sowars forded the river at a shallow point on horseback. A severe fight took place on the opposite side, in which the plunderers lost 500 killed, while many were taken prisoners, and the sheep released. My force did not return at once, but halted there, expecting reinforcements with instructions to conquer Kolab ; but, receiving no further orders from my father, I sent for them to return. I restored the sheep to their owners, who offered me 6000 of them, it being the custom of the country that one-third of all plunder taken from robbers belongs of right to the Government. I refused the sheep, but accepted 8000 gold coins offered me instead, out of which I gave 3000 to the soldiers, keeping the remainder myself. I wrote to Mir Shah, warning him that on such an incident being repeated, 1 would take Kolab away from him. The Mir answered with many apologies, sending presents, and promising that such a thing should not happen again. I then sold the prisoners for one lakh of tangas (5000 sovereigns), thus making 10,000 out of the transaction!

The different countries were very peaceful after this for some time, and I took the opportunity of adding 3000 ponies and 2000 camels to our supply of transport animals. About this time I received a letter from my father, announcing his intention of coming to visit Kataghan, and saying that he would let me know a month beforehand. I answered: “Bakheir braiyed.” (Come safely).

[Enon]

Here is an amusing section from: Life Of Abdur Rahman–Amir Of Afghanistan Vol. 2

[p.20]
I have mentioned elsewhere the fact, that when I was a boy I hated reading and writing, and devoted myself to working with the other workmen in my father’s workshops. The earnest desire of my life at that time was only to learn the profession of architecture, rifle-making, casting, carpentry, blacksmith’s and other kinds of work. All these I mastered thoroughly, and could make the articles with my own hands, without the assistance of other workmen, quite as well as any of those who had taught me. Two rifles that I made entirely from start to finish without help from any one are now at Kabul.

In short, I was not fond of any other profession but that of engineering in the early years of my life. When I resided in Russian territory, I occupied my leisure time in learning all I could about manufactures and industries. I learnt at that time goldsmiths’ work, enameling, gilding, and dyeing leather, etc. [. . . .]
[p.21]
I was fully aware of the value and usefulness of steam power introduced by modem scientific men, and I knew that great and mighty empires, such as Great Britain, have attained their wonderful strength by the help of steam power and their world-wide commerce ; otherwise, England is very small, and to my certain knowledge contains no diamond or gold mines. Their manufactures and commerce are the blessings and welfare of the nation and the strength of their kingdom. But notwithstanding the fact that I appreciated the value of modern machinery, my external and internal troubles and anxieties did not allow of my giving sufficient attention to manufactures till 1885, when I went to Rawal Pindi to meet my wise and learned friend, Lord Dufferin, then Viceroy of India. At this time a French engineer, named M. Jerome, who was superintending the electric lighting machinery and engines, was introduced to me, as being a clever, well-informed man, and although he was only an electrical engineer, I found that he had a great deal of general experience about mechanical engineering. I therefore engaged him in my service, with the idea and intention of starting workshops at Kabul on the modem European system. My engineer brought with him another Indian who was clever at Electric Lighting work, named Karim Bakhsh, who is still at Kabul at the present time.

M. Jerome was the first European who entered my [p.22] service in the capacity of engineer. He was at Kabul for a short time, and during his stay I looked at catalogues of various mechanical machinery, marking out a few lathes, drilling, shaping, punching, cutting, and cupping machines, together with a casting foundry, and three, six, eight, and ten horse-power engines. I also ordered a few other small machines to make a start. The whole of the machinery and engines required to start this small factory amounted to 141,000 rupees of the Indian coinage. I gave M. Jerome leave to go to India for the purpose of buying the machinery, and also to employ some other assistant engineers and Indian workmen well practiced in work of the kind, to set the machinery in place, and put it into working order.

On M. Jerome’s arrival at Calcutta, he engaged twenty-two Indian foremen, mistris, and other workmen, and sent them to Kabul along with the machinery. The workmen and machinery reached Kabul, but M. Jerome did not himself appear, and up to the present day I have not heard a word about him, neither have I been able to find out what happened to him nor why he did not return. [ ]

The machinery and goods were lying at Kabul, but there was no engineer. I was sorry, not only on account of the money which was lost in buying the machinery, but because I was the laughing-stock of my people, who thought I should be unable to start my small factory. " In Allah ma’al sabrin " = " Allah is beside those who do not lose patience."-KORAN. I was not, however, a man accustomed to change my mind after once having fixed upon doing a thing. [p.23] I accordingly wrote to my envoy with the Indian Government, General Amir Ahmed Khan, to find out and employ another engineer at any price. The General employed and sent, through Sultan Mahomed Khan, now Mir Munshi, an English engineer, named Mr Pyne (now Sir Salter Pyne). Mr Pyne arrived at Kabul in the first week of April, 1887, and I wrote to the General to employ another Secretary for the work of Secretary in the place of Sultan Mahomed Khan, whom I kept in my own presence.

A piece of land, named Alam Ganj (the Treasury of Knowledge) was selected by me as a fitting site for erecting manufactories and workshops, because it was outside the city of Kabul and still quite close to it. It was larger than any other piece of land in the neighbourhood, and in addition was considered very healthy. The site commanded a beautiful view, and on one side was a canal to convey water for use in the works for the engines, boilers, etc., and on the lower side was the river of Kabul to carry away all waste water.

I ordered Mir Munshi to take Mr Pyne with him to report to me if they thought the piece of land was suitable for the erection of the works. In short, in a happy moment, after having consulted my astrologers and fortune-tellers, the foundation-stone was laid on the 7th of April, in a lucky hour, after the usual ceremony of distributing alms and sweetmeats to the poor.

[1]There are several professional astrologers employed by the emir, who
give him advice on every occasion: what time to start on a journey; what
hour and lucky star is for the foundation of a new building; in fact,
nothing is done without their permission. Even when the Amir is to cut
his nails or take a bath must be settled by the astrologers as a lucky
hour for the undertaking! When Nasrullah returned from London,
though both father and son were longing to see each other, he was kept
outside the city of Kabul, because the astrologers said it was not a lucky
hour for him to see his father. Sirdar Mahomed Hassam Khan, who was
one of Nasrullah’s companions in London, says in a joke that his wife had
put on her best new dress the day that they were to enter the city, and as
they were detained outside for nearly a week, the dress got dirty and
needed washing again before she could show it to her husband.

[Enon]

“The whole of the machinery and engines required to start this small factory amounted to 141,000 rupees of the Indian coinage.”

The rupee of India at the time was about 11.5g silver, so this was 52,132 troy ounces, worth $1.4M in metal terms, or at least $8M in purchasing power.

The total circulating currency in India was about 155M rupees, so the amount paid for the machinery was nearly 0.1% (0.091%) of all the coinage in circulation. India’s M1 money supply is worth about $684B today, so relative to the size of the economy, 141,000 rupees was several billion dollars.
Rupee Prices in India, 1898-1901 Fred J. Atkinson Journal of the Royal Statistical Society, Vol. 66, No. 1 (Mar., 1903), pp. 103-118 (16 pages)