Under the absolute Amir

Speaking generally, there is much in the daily life and customs of the Afghans that reminds one of England some three hundred years ago as depicted in books and histories, such as their superstitions, their treatment of sick persons by barber surgeons and leech wives, their belief in ghosts, devils, and fairies, in fortune-tellers, in people with the evil eye, in the astrologers who cast their horoscopes, and their fervent belief generally in the supernatural. In many other particulars also they resemble the old English, but in character they differ considerably.

The dress of the country is of course the Afghan costume, which consists of tombons or loose pyjama trousers made of many yards of cotton material which hang in folds from the hips, round which they are tied with a pyjama string, a plain shirt which is worn outside the tombons, and over the shirt an armless coat (very much like a waistcoat) which is usually worn unbuttoned; a large sheet of calico is worn loosely round the neck like a shawl with one end carelessly thrown over the shoulder. The turban is the conical fez, with lungi wrapped tightly round it over the head, and the shoes more resemble slippers in shape, they are very heavy and studded with nails while the toes curl up over the foot. Stockings or socks are only worn by the well-to-do people.

Officials and those attached to the court, together with officers of the army, wear the English style of clothes, those attached to the court having long frock-coats similar to the Turkish, and wear fez of black cloth which are straight, instead of sloping up to the crown like the ordinary Turkish fez. Officers of the army wear uniforms fashioned after the style of the English army with flat peaked caps of the German pattern.

The soldiers are dressed variously, some wearing the Afghan tombons and others English trousers, or white cotton pants cut in the same style, but all have English pattern tunics or coats, and a leather belt carrying pouches strapped round the body. For head-dress, some wear the usual turban and some flat peaked caps. Soldiers may, in fact, dress as they like or can, except on review days, when their uniform (they have but one) must be worn. The soldiers of the Amir’s bodyguard have uniforms for everyday wear, and all are dressed and armed in the same style.

Most of the people who possess a horse wear long Russian boots with high heels, which give a perched up appearance to the legs; but whatever style of dress may be worn there is always a leather belt strapped round the body, in which knives and revolvers are carried, provided the man is fortunate enough to possess a revolver. Merchants who travel up and down between Kabul and India buy up stocks of old uniforms; these are much prized by the poorer Kabulis, for they wear well and are cheap, so that one sees all sorts of British regimental tunics, besides those of the police and railways, and it looks strange to see a man walking along the street with the letters “S. E. Ry,” or those of another railway company on his collar, so many miles away from the place where it was first worn. Generally the Kabuli wears clothes made after the English fashion, and those who cannot afford a good sort of material for their dress do the best they can, and are to be seen with the tombons and shoes of the Afghan, and an English coat, or a suit cut in the English style, and Afghan shoes, and no socks or stockings. When I speak of the English coat or trousers, I do not mean that the clothes are English made, for the bazar tailors are clever enough to imitate the English style sufficiently well to satisfy their patrons, and the tailor who can cut clothes to fit well is in great demand, and soon becomes a well-to-do person.

In complexion the people vary considerably, some being very dark skinned, and others as fair as Europeans. Those with dark skins are, as a rule, Kabulis who have no objection to marrying the women of southern nations, but the true Afghans from the hills are very fair, and often with light-coloured hair, and as they despise women of other nations they seldom marry any but those of their own people. In many of the Afghans red cheeks give a greater impression of fairness. Usually the hair is black, and hangs straight and lank, and men whose hair and beard go grey from old age or other reasons, but who feel young enough to take other wives to themselves—for they marry as many as they can support—dye their hair and beard a deep black, but as the dye is not permanent it has to be frequently renewed; otherwise it fades, and the hair and beard become a dirty red and look very unprepossessing. This is often seen in men whose continued duty, or journey to some distant place, prevents them seeking the services of their hairdresser, who is usually one of the women of the household. It is only very old men indeed who are seen in Kabul with grey hair and beards, for personal vanity is one of the leading characteristics of the Afghan, and this influences him to spend more than he ought on dress in order to appear well, the food for himself and family being of diminished quantity in consequence, very often, indeed, near to starvation point. I have known well-dressed men who lived chiefly on dry bread, and not too much of that, in order to save the bulk of their income for new clothes.

It has been said that the Afghans are the Lost Tribes of Israel, and there is much in the appearance of the true Afghan to support this theory, and in character and name also. The hooked nose, deep-sunk piercing eyes, and general features are distinctly Jewish, while those who have had business relations with the Afghans will vouch for the character, and then the names, Suleiman, Yakoob, Yusef, Daood (Solomon, Jacob, Joseph, David), etc., are common names. Some mountains in the country also have Jewish names, such as the Koh-i-Suleiman, so that one is inclined to think that if they are not the Lost Tribes, they must be of Jewish origin.

The Kabulis are hybrid creatures, compounded of many races, and generally having the worst characteristics of each. In complexion they vary considerably, but, as a whole, are fair as compared with the Hindustanis, and some have grey and blue eyes and light hair. Among them are those of villainous countenance, and others just as handsome, both in face and form. They are generally short of stature, as compared with the Afghans, who are tall and well-built men; but the conditions of life among the hillmen are such that the weakly die young, and it is a case of the survival of the fittest, which, so far as the physical effect on the race is concerned, is worthy of emulation by other races.

The Kandaharis are also a good type of Afghan, and are mostly strong well-built men. Grey and blue eyes are common amongst them, as with the Kabulis; but whether this is natural to them or the result of the English occupation of the country on two occasions many years ago, is problematical.

The people of Turkestan and the Usbegs are rather Mongolian in feature, the type being in some more pronounced than others. The Hazaras, whom Amir Abdur Rahman brought into subjection, are decidedly Mongolian in feature, and are mostly short, squat, strongly built people.

Another race the late Amir subjugated, the Kafris, are entirely distinct from the other races of the country. They are generally very fair complexioned, and have light-coloured eyes. They are not tall, and are slimly yet symmetrically built. In many cases their features are Grecian in type, and it is quite conceivable that they are, as has been suggested, the descendants of the garrisons Alexander the Great left in the country on his historic march to India. They were idolators until the Amir took them in hand and converted them by fire and sword, and they have little love for their new masters. They are quick and intelligent, and make good workmen.

The language of the country is Pushtoo, which is general among the people from Peshawar to Kandahar. The Turkestanis use the Turki language, and the Kafris have a language of their own, which latter might form an interesting study for those who are acquainted with the old Greek language. All people of any consequence speak Persian, which is the court language, and the language used in Kabul itself, for very few of the Kabulis are able to speak Pushtoo, and with a knowledge of Persian one can get on anywhere in the country, but it is less common among the frontier tribes than elsewhere.

Persian is the language taught in the schools, which the children attend from early morning until about ten o’clock, and again in the late afternoon for a couple of hours. In these schools the master, usually a moullah, sits on a carpet in the centre of the room with the children in a circle round him, sitting cross-legged, with their books on their knees, and reading aloud in a sing-song manner, while rocking their bodies backwards and forwards. This rocking the body to and fro while reading becomes such a habit that in after life very few men can read anything without doing it, and their voices take on the sing-song intonation of the school. For the chastisement of the unruly and stupid, the master has a pliable rod by him. There is no sparing the rod and spoiling the child, and when the master wishes to punish one of them, the small offender is held on his back, with his legs up in the air, and receives so many cuts on the soles of his feet, and while the punishment lasts he howls piteously. Sometimes in passing by a school I have stopped, thinking a child was surely being murdered, until I saw the reason why the boy was howling, and my standing to watch generally had the effect of stopping the child’s noise, for the “Feringhee” is one of the names used to frighten children with. One end of the room in which school is held has no wall, and is open on the side facing the road, so there is nothing to prevent one watching the school children at work.

Children are also taught in the school to read the old Arabic, in order that they may read the Koran, but while there are many men who can read Arabic, there are few who understand it, and fewer still, if any, who can speak it as a language. Many can recite passages from the Koran as a parrot would do, and some, who are thereby called Hafiz, can recite it from memory from beginning to end.

In character the people are idle, luxurious, and sensual, which characteristics become prominent as soon as a man possesses power or money (almost synonymous terms in Afghanistan). They are capricious and ungrateful, and turn easily in their likes and dislikes, and are readily led to turn against those to whom they owe gratitude. Usually, when they want anything, they want it at once, and should their desire be delayed for any time, they no longer want it. They are lying, treacherous, and vengeful, and one who has a grudge or enmity against another will not show it openly, but conceals his feelings and feigns friendship, while waiting the opportunity for vengeance, and in the execution of their vengeance they are capable of unheard-of cruelties. They are readily ruled by fear, but are apt to brood over small grievances until they convince themselves that they are most cruelly treated, and then their feelings may result in a fit of Berserk rage, under the influence of which they lose control of themselves and take vengeance violently, often stabbing and hacking at their victim long after life is extinct. They are cruel and insensible to the pain of others, often laughing at it, and, except in the case of a relative, will seldom go out of their way to relieve suffering.

Towards their children they are too kind, and spoil them while they are young, denying them nothing which it is possible to give them, and dressing them in gaudy clothes while they themselves go ragged. They make no attempt to correct them for any wrong-doing, laughing at it rather as a sign of precociousness, and among the Kabulis it is a common thing for a little child to be able to curse fluently, and their curses are often directed at their parents. This neglect in training the young properly accounts for much that is objectionable in the character of the people. It is not until children are seven or eight years old that they begin to correct them, but a good deal of the character of a child is at that age already formed.

The Afghans are for ever scheming one against another, family against family, official against official, farmer against farmer, workman against workman, and wife against wife—the latter being, naturally, one of the evils which arise from the custom of plurality of wives. The result of all this scheming is often a quarrel which ends in a fight, in which one or other of the parties may be killed; they do not always use knife or bullet for the purpose, they have other ways too of ridding themselves of an enemy.

In the cities, when a man commits murder, he is taken charge of and judged by the authorities, but in the country it often results in a feud between the two families, which is carried on for generations, the murderer being waited for by the relatives of the man whom he killed, and killed in turn; the slayer in this case also being eventually slain by a member of the opposite party, and so the feud goes on for many years.

Illustrating the vengeful character of the people, I may mention the case of a man who killed another and escaped to his own house or fort, as it is called by them, each house being in the nature of a stronghold. Here he stayed for some thirty years, without venturing to put his foot outside the house; but at the end of that time, supposing the watchfulness of his enemies had slackened, he went out one day, and was carried back dead. The vengeance of the relatives of the man he had killed had not slumbered, neither had their watchfulness. It is said that revenge is sweet, but it seems to have an added sweetness to these people.

There is a law among the people that a man who has been apprehended by the authorities for murder, may be claimed by the murdered man’s relatives to execute or forgive as they wish. The relatives may then accept so much blood-money as compensation, or may kill the man in any way they like. Sometimes the haggling among the relatives about accepting the blood-money offered by the murderer and his friends, some being in favour of accepting the money, and others in favour of death, is continued even under the scaffold, where the condemned one stands ready pinioned, and with the rope round his neck, and after, perhaps, an hour or so of wrangling, it ends in the decision that the man must suffer death, and then the rope is seized and the man hauled up. The feelings of the man during the altercation in such cases must be unenviable.

Another case which further shows the vengeful character of the people is that of a man who murdered a boy, and was handed over to the relatives for execution or forgiveness. The mother of the boy resisted those in favour of blood-money, and insisted on the man’s throat being cut, as he cut her son’s, and when this was done, she, in the frenzy of her vengeance, actually drank the blood as it flowed from the man’s throat.

The amusements of the people are simple, and would lead one to suppose them rather simple-minded, if one did not know them. For instance, in the early evening, when work is over, the people will flock in summer-time to the public garden, where plots are laid out with flowers, each plot having one kind of flower only, carrying with them their singing-birds in cages, and will sit round these plots until nightfall, contentedly enjoying the scent of the flowers and the cool evening breeze. They sit there quietly, and for the most part silently, and there is no noise beyond the pit-pat of the slippers of those going and coming on the garden paths. At one or two corners of the garden walks are tea-sellers, with a little crowd of people squatting round drinking tea out of the small handleless cups commonly used, and taking a pull at the chillum (pipe similar to a hookah) now and then.

On Fridays (the Sundays of the Mussulmans), and on holidays, many people go off walking or on horse or donkey, when, in many cases, they ride two together on one animal, and sometimes three, to the gardens in the country, taking food and cooking-pots with them; and there they will wander round the gardens until midday, content to be amongst the trees and flowers. Then they cook their food, and after eating that, they lie about and chat, or doze the afternoon away, and when evening begins to gather, they get their belongings together, and start off home again, having had a glorious day’s outing, according to their own statement. They are easy to please in this way, and anything which brings them fresh air, sunlight, flowers, and grass or trees, and no worry or duty, and, if possible, a little to eat and drink while enjoying it all, is a day’s tamasha to be talked over and retailed to others, and dreamt about until the next opportunity comes.

When other means of amusement fail, they sit together on the roof of the house, or in some quiet spot near by, where there may be a tree to shade them, and one of them plays the rubarb, which is something like a mandoline, and sings Persian love-songs. Out of half a dozen men there is usually one who can play and sing, and their songs sound best at a little distance, for if close by the nasal intonation is not prepossessing, while the contortions of the mouth and face in bringing out the tremulous and prolonged high notes rather fascinate one, and the song is forgotten in watching them and waiting for the breakdown, which seems momentarily imminent. There are others of their stringed instruments which resemble the banjo in shape, but all are called “rubarb.” The music has little change about it, and differs from ours in not being composed of different airs, but in being of bars of four to six beats, which are repeated over and over again. It sounds very monotonous, and is a little trying, until one gets used to it, and then, on a still summer evening, the rubarb in the distance has rather a soothing sound in its monotony, if one happens to be reclining in an easy-chair, smoking and resting after dinner. But if one is busy writing, or is absorbed in calculations, or anything of that sort, the monotony of the sound is very trying, and produces a desire to make a change at any cost, even if a shot-gun is necessary to effect it.

The people are like the rest of the Orientals, and do not look upon exercise in any form as an amusement, and therefore, are not in the habit of dancing as a means of recreation and pleasure, but they have, instead, properly trained dancing-girls to do so before them. The services of the dancing-girls are requisitioned only on festivals and weddings, or when some wealthy man gives an entertainment to his friends on the occasion of a visit from one of the princes or some high official person.

The dancing-girls are accompanied by men with musical instruments who form the orchestra, and among the instruments is the inevitable tom-tom or drum, which is played by being struck with the fingers or the hand, and not with drumsticks. The life of the dancing-girl is a hard one, for the dancing they practice is exhausting, and induces a good deal of perspiration, and the girl is clad in light flimsy muslin, while the nights even in summer are chill, and all doors and windows are open to the breeze. Consequently, she catches cold and gets fever and continues to get it, for she must practice her profession whenever called upon, so that it is not a matter for surprise that these girls mostly die of consumption. The dancing-girls in Kabul are Hindustanis, from the Peshawar and Delhi districts, while some are the offspring of former dancing-girls and the men of the country. Although much has been said about the Oriental dancing-girls’ poetry of motion, and I have seen many others in different parts of India, their action during the dance appears very studied and wanting in grace, even with the best of them, and none that I have seen are to be compared with our own principal ballet-dancers for grace of movement.

Among wild Afghan tribes, such as the Jidrani and others, knife-dances are indulged in. About fifty men arrange themselves in a circle with four or five more in the centre, who beat tom-toms and tambourines, and play on stringed instruments. The dance commences by the men springing forward towards the centre of the circle and back again, flashing their knives about over their heads, and singing in time to the music in a low tone, but gradually the music, singing, and dancing become louder and quicker, belts and turbans are thrown off to allow of greater freedom of movement, and the knives flash more rapidly, until at last the men seem in a very frenzy, and the dancing becomes a series of wild leaps in the air, knives are thrown up and caught again, and the singing changes to a chorus of wild yells. When the dance has reached its most frenzied point, it suddenly ceases, and then there is a loud clapping of hands by the dancers, and all is over.

They have another wild dance which resembles some strange rite of worshippers round a fetish. Two or three men with tom-toms sit together, and the dancers arrange themselves in a large circle round them, but instead of facing towards the centre of the circle as in the former dance, each man faces the one in front of him. When the tom-toms begin, they spring forward a step and stop momentarily, then spring forward again on the other foot, and so continue, but during each spring they turn violently half round to right or left as each foot advances, and the sudden twist they give their bodies sends their turbans or caps flying after the first few steps. In a little while, when they begin to warm up to the dance, they do a whole turn in the air during each spring forward, and, as this is continued, the dancers become more and more energetic, until their hair, which is worn long and cut straight round the shoulders, stands out like a mop being wrung out as they spin round. Their arms, being also extended at the same time, the whole effect, as they spin round more rapidly and violently and the tom-toms beat quicker, is exceedingly quaint.

Some of the people, mostly soldiers, go in for swordstick combats. The swordsticks are similar to the English ones, with basket guards, but the combatants carry small round leather shields in addition, which are held in the left hand, and not partly on the forearm, as is usual with larger shields. Some of the men are very expert in this exercise, but they do very little guarding by means of the swordstick, and catch most of the blows on the shield, for this allows of a quicker return stroke. They are also much in favour of leaping back to avoid a leg-cut, leaning forward as they do so to get in a down-stroke at their adversary’s head.

In the late spring of each year, the “Jubah” takes place. The jubah is a fair combined with sports, and is held on a level strip of plain under the Asman heights south-west of the city. Here they have horse races, but the races are arranged on the spur of the moment between one man and another, and are not agreed on beforehand to determine the best of several horses over a fixed course. Food and toy-stalls are erected along the slopes of the hill, and all Kabul and its children turn out for the three days the fair is held. On these occasions the people put on their best clothes, and the children are particularly gaudy in their coloured velvet coats and caps. The children’s toys are very quaint in appearance. The dolls are made of stuffed rag, and are dressed in Afghan fashion, and represent both men and women, not children, while others represent demons. Then there are small windmills fixed on the end of a stick, and wooden whistles, and many other curiously shaped articles, all gorgeously coloured, which children love. There is also a Turkestani tight-rope walker dressed in a gaily coloured fantastic costume, who fits up two long poles with a rope between, both poles and rope being very solidly made and very firmly fixed, and gives displays thereon.

The jubah is also made the occasion for deciding the wrestling contests between the chief “pulwans” (athletes) of the city. These wrestling matches are usually conducted before the Amir and the princes, for whom tents are erected on the hillside, and the Amir awards money prizes to the victors. The keenest interest is taken in the wrestling by all people, and among the competitors defeat is in some cases so taken to heart that the man will never wrestle again, and others have been known to become so depressed through being beaten as to commit suicide.

There is no course kept open for those who are racing their horses, and the riders have to dodge in and out amongst the people and other horses and donkeys as best they can, and often man and horse come to grief, chiefly over a donkey which gets out of the way of no one, unless under compulsion. On one occasion two men were racing their horses from opposite ends of the plain, and met midway, and as neither would give way to the other in passing they collided, and the result was that one man and horse were killed on the spot, and the other two died the following day.

Story-tellers are in great favour among the people, and a good raconteur may be sure of an attentive audience. The bazar story-teller takes up his stand in a busy thoroughfare, and begins telling his story. In a short time he is surrounded by a large crowd, eagerly drinking in the various episodes related, while people riding or walking past have difficulty in squeezing their way through the crowd, if they themselves do not stop to swell it; but nothing is said or done by the passers-by to disturb the story-teller in his recital of the adventures of the prince or princess among the various jinn, fairies, or “deoo” (demons) of old time. Story-tellers are also attached to the retinues of the Amir and the princes, and others of high standing. All their attendants and officials are story-tellers in a way; but those mentioned are special men, whose chief duty it is to tell stories to their masters while the latter lie on their beds at night and listen until they fall asleep.

In Kabul, when a guest is invited to dinner, the invitation means that he is expected to stop the night in the house of his host, and on these occasions, when the dinner has been despatched, the guests gather round the host, squatting or lying on carpets while they smoke the chillum, and each one takes his turn at telling a story. The interest in the stories related is so great that they often sit listening to one another far into the night, and are unfit for work the following day.

Boys and children amuse themselves in much the same way as English children. The chief game among boys is “toop bazee,” which is played with a flat piece of wood and a ball, and is very much like rounders. They also go in for wrestling, and fencing with sticks, and throwing arrows with a piece of string, at which they are rather expert. Some of the elder boys shoot sparrows and small birds with clay pellets from a long blow-pipe, and in order to get the birds at close range the boy takes his stand beneath a tree and uses a call which imitates a number of sparrows chirruping and fighting together, and this induces the sparrows to come and investigate the cause of trouble, when they offer a good target from below.

Smaller children play with balls, knuckle bones, marbles, and walnuts. The walnuts are used as in a game of marbles, and any knocked out of the ring, in which each player places a certain number, are the property of the player who knocks them out.

Only very little girls are to be seen in the streets, as at about eight years of age they become “purdah,” i.e. no longer to be seen by men other than their relatives, and are confined to the women’s quarters of the house, and cannot go outside unless wearing the “bukra,” or cotton overdress, which covers them from head to foot, and has a slit covered with fine lace in front of the eyes for them to see through. Little girls may be seen sometimes on the house-top playing at a game similar to ring-of-roses, or playing with their dolls, and keeping house, or keeping shop, and other games of make-believe, which their sex delight in. Their greatest delight is to have an English doll with English clothes, for their own dolls are made of rag and dressed like themselves.