Dr. Leitner as a Bukhara Maulvi, when crossing the Frontier in 1866 during the Kashmîr War with the Dard Tribes.

When I crossed the then Kashmîr frontier in 1866, in the disguise of a Bokhara Maulvi, armed with a testimonial of Muhammadan theological learning, I found that the tribes of Hunza, Nagyr, Dareyl, Yasin, and Chitrál had united under the leadership of the last-named to expel the Kashmîr invaders from the Gilgit Fort. My mission was a purely linguistic one; but the sight of dying and dead men along the road, that of heads stuck up along the march of the Kashmîr troops, and the attempts made on my life by our feudatory, the late Maharaja of Kashmîr, compelled me to pay attention to other matters besides the languages, legends, songs, and fables of the interesting races with whom I now came in contact under circumstances that might not seem to be favourable to the accomplishment of my task. I had been warned by the then Lieutenant-Governor of the Panjab, Sir Donald McLeod, whose like we have not seen again, not to cross the frontier, as the tribes beyond were supposed to be cannibals; but as I could not get the information of which I was in search within our frontier, I had to cross it. My followers were frightened off by all sorts of wild stories, till our party was reduced from some fifty to three, including myself. The reason for all this was, that the Maharaja was afraid that I should find out and report his breach of the Treaty by which we sold Kashmîr to him in 1846, and in which the Indus is laid down as his boundary on the west. In 1866, therefore, at any rate, even the tenure of Gilgit, which is on the other side of the Indus, was contested and illegal, whilst the still more distant Hunza and Nagyr had more than once inflicted serious punishment on the Kashmîr troops that sought to invade districts that have preserved their autonomy during the last fourteen centuries, as was admitted by The Times of the 2nd November, 1891, before its present change with the times, if an unintentional pun may be permitted.

Then, as ever, the Anglo-Indian newspapers spoke of Russian intrigues in those regions. I am perfectly certain that if, instead of the fussiness of our statesmen and the sensationalism of our journals, the languages, history, and relations of these little-known races had been studied by them, we should never have heard of Russia in that part of the East. It is also not by disingenuousness and short cuts on maps or in diplomacy, but by knowledge, that physical, ethnographical, and political problems are to be solved; nor will the bold and brilliant robberies of Russia be checked by our handing over the inhabitants of the supposed “cradle of the human race” to Affghan, Kashmîr, or Chinese usurpations. Above all, it is a loss of time to palm off myths as history in order to suit the policy or conceal the ignorance of the moment.

Just as little as Darwaz and Karategin are ancestral dominions of Bokhara, and, therefore, under Russian influence, so little did even Badakhshan, and much less so, Raushan, Shignan, and Wakhan, ever really belong to Affghanistan. As for the Chinese hold on Turkistan, we ourselves denied it when we coquetted with Yakub Khush Begi, though Kitái was ever the acknowledged superior of Eastern Turkistan. If Hunza admits any allegiance, it is to China, and not to Kashmîr; and the designations of offices of rule in that country are of Chinese, and not of Aryan origin, including even “Thàm,” the title of its Raja.

As a matter of fact, however, the vast number of tribes that inhabit the many countries between the Indus and the Kuner own no master except their own tribal head or the tribal council. From kidnapping Hunza, where the right to plunder is monarchical, hereditary, and “ayeshó” = “heaven-born,” to the peace and learning of republican Kandiá or Gabriál, all want to be left alone. If a neighbour becomes troublesome, he is raided on till an interchange of presents restores harmony. It is impossible to say that either side is tributary to the other. The wealthier gives the larger present; the bigger is considered the superior in a general sort of way, and so two horses, two dogs, and a handful of gold dust are yearly sent by Hunza to Kashmîr or to Yarkand as a cloak for much more substantial exactions in return. Nagyr sends a basket of apricots instead of the horses and dogs. In 1871 Chitrál still paid a tribute to Badakhshan in slaves, but it would be absurd to infer from this fact that Chitrál ever acknowledged the suzerainty of Jehandar Shah, or of the Affghan faction that dispossessed him. Nor were the Khaibaris, or other highway robbers, our rulers, because we paid them blackmail, or they our subjects because they might bring us “sweetmeats.”

The points in which most Englishmen are as deficient as Russians are generally proficient, are language and a sympathetic manner with natives. That, however, linguistic knowledge is not useless may be inferred from the fact that it enabled me, to use the words of my Chief, Commissary General H. S. Jones, C.B., during the Russian War in 1855, “to pass unharmed through regions previously unknown and among tribes hitherto unvisited by any European.”

Also in topography and geography linguistics are necessary; and the absurd mistakes now made at certain learned societies and in certain scientific journals, regarding the Pamirs, would be avoided by a little study of the Oriental languages concerned. In 1866, the map which accompanies my philological work on “Dardistan” shows, on linguistic grounds, and on the basis of native itineraries, the various Pamirs that have been partially revealed within the last few weeks, or have been laboriously ascertained by expensive Russian and British expeditions between 1867 and 1890. The publication of my material, collected at my own expense and which shall no longer be delayed, would have saved many complications; but when, e.g., I pointed out, in 1866, that the Indus, after leaving Bunji, ran west instead of south, as on the then existing maps, I got into trouble with the Topographical Survey, which “discovered” the fact through its well-known “Mulla” in 1876. The salvation of India that is not made “departmentally” is crucified; and whoever does not belong to the regular military or civil services has no business to know or to suggest. Mr. Curzon, when presiding at a meeting of the late Oriental Congress, assured us that a new era had risen; but only the other night, at the Royal Geographical Society, a complaint was made of the reluctance of official departments in giving the Society information. As a rule, the mysteriousness of offices only conceals their ignorance, of which we have an instance in Capt. Younghusband being sent to shut the passes after the Russians had already stolen a march on, or through, them.


The neutralization of the Pamirs is the only solution of a difficulty created by the conjectural treaties of diplomatists and the ambition of military emissaries. Left as a huge happy hunting-ground for sportsmen, or as pasturage for nomads from whatever quarter, the Pamirs form the most perfect “neutral zone” conceivable. That the wanderings of these nomads should be accompanied by territorial or political claims, whether by Russia, China, Affghanistan, Kashmir, or ourselves, is the height of absurdity. As for Hunza-Nagyr, the sooner they are left to themselves the better for us, who are not bound to help Kashmîr in encroaching on them. Kashmîr managed them very fairly after 1848; and when it was occasionally defeated, its prestige did not suffer, for the next summer invariably found the tribal envoys again suing for peace and presents. The sooner the Gilgit Agency is withdrawn, the greater will be our reputation for fair dealing. Besides, we can take hostages from the Chiefs’ families as guarantees of future tranquillity. Hunza-Nagyr are certainly not favourable to Russia, whilst Nagyr is decidedly friendly to us. The sensational account of Colonel Grambcheffsky’s visit to Hunza, which he places on his map where Nagyr is, seems to be one of the usual traps to involve us in great military expenditure and to alienate the tribes from us. It is also not creditable that, for party or personal purposes, the peaceful and pious Nagyris,—whom our own Gilgit Resident, Colonel Biddulph, has reported on as distinguished for “timidity and incapacity for war,” “never having joined the Hunza raids,” “slavery being unknown in Nagyr,”—should be described as “kidnappers,” “raiders along with Hunza,” “slave-dealers,” “robbers,” and “scoundrels,”—statements made by a correspondent from Gilgit in a morning newspaper of to-day, and to all of which I give an unqualified contradiction.

The establishment of the Gilgit Agency has already drawn attention to the shortest road for the invasion of India; and it is significant that its advocate at Gilgit should admit that all the tribes of the Indus Valley “sympathized with the Hunzas,” from whose depredations they are erroneously supposed to have suffered, and that they were likely “to attack the British from behind by a descent on the Gilgit road” to Kashmîr. Why should “the only other exit from Gilgit by way of the Indus Valley be through territories held by tribes hostile to the British”? Have the Gilgit doings already alienated the poor, but puritanical Chilásis, tributaries of Kashmîr, who adjoin our settled British district of Kaghan? Are we to dread the Republic of Muhammadan learning, Kandiá, that has not a single fort; pastoral Dareyl; the Koli-Palus traders; agricultural Tangir, and other little Republics—one only of eleven houses? As for the places beyond them, our officials at Attock, Peshawur, Rawalpindi, and Abbottabad will deal with the Pathan tribes in their own neighbourhood, which have nothing to do with the adjoining Republics of quiet, brave, and intelligent Dards, on both sides of the Indus, up to Gilgit, to which I have referred, and which deserve our respectful study, sympathy, and unobtrusive support.

G. W. Leitner.

16th December, 1891.


The following account, published by Reuter’s Telegram Company, will supplement the preceding article:—

Woking, Dec. 13.

“A representative of Reuter’s Agency interviewed Dr. Leitner at his residence at Woking to-day, with the object of eliciting some information on the subject of the Hunza and Nagyr tribes, with whom the British forces are at present in conflict.

“Dr. Leitner, it is needless to say, is the well-known discoverer of the races and languages of Dardistan (the country between Kabul and Kashmir), which he so named when sent on a linguistic mission by the Punjab Government in 1864, at a time when the various independent tribes, including Hunza and Nagyr, had united in order to turn the troops of the Maharaja of Kashmir out of Gilgit. At that time it was considered that the treaty of 1846, by which Great Britain sold Kashmir to the Maharaja, had confined him to the Indus as his westward boundary, and had therefore rendered his occupation of Gilgit an encroachment and breach of treaty.

“Dr. Leitner, although the country was in a state of war, which is not favourable to scientific research, managed to collect a mass of information, and a fine ethnographical collection, which is at the museum at Woking. He has also made many friends in the country, and is doubtless the highest, if not the only, authority regarding these countries.

“Dr. Leitner, who was quite unprepared for to-day’s visit, said that the relations which he had kept up with the natives of Gilgit, Hunza, Nagyr, and Yasin forced him to the conclusion that a conflict had been entered into which might have easily been avoided by a little more sympathy and knowledge, especially of the Nagyr people. Indeed, it was not a light matter that could have induced the venerable chief of Nagyr to make common cause with his hereditary foe of Hunza, unless he feared that the British threatened their respective independence.

“Not many weeks ago Dr. Leitner received a letter from the chief of Nagyr, in which he recommended to his kind attention his son, now in Kashmir, on the ground that he, even more so than any other member of his numerous family, was a well-wisher to the British Government. At that time the chief could not have had any feelings of animosity, although he might have protested, together with his rival of Hunza, against the British occupation of Chalt. In fact, it was not true that Nagyr and Hunza were really subject to Kashmir, except in the vague way in which these States constantly recognised the suzerainty of a neighbouring power in the hope of getting substantial presents for their offerings of a few ounces of gold dust, a couple of dogs, or basket of apricots, etc. Thus Chitrál, the ally of Great Britain, used to pay a tribute of slaves to the Ameers of Badakshan; but it would be absurd on that ground to render Chitrál a part of Afghanistan, because Badakshan now, in a manner, belongs to Abdurrahman. Hunza, again, sends a tribute to China; and, in a general way, China is the only Power that ever had a shadow of claim on these countries, but it is a mere shadow. Dr. Leitner said, the only policy for Great Britain is, in the words of the Secretary of State or Viceroy, ‘to maintain and strengthen all the indigenous Governments.’ This policy he would extend to the triangle which has Peshawur for its base, and thereby interpose a series of almost impregnable mountainous countries, which would be sufficiently defended by the independence of their inhabitants. If Circassia could oppose Russia for thirty years, even although Russia had the command of the Black Sea, how much more effective would be the resistance of the innumerable Circassias which Providence had placed between ourselves and the Russian frontier in Asia? We ought to have made these tribes look upon us as a distant but powerful friend, ready to help them in an emergency; but now, by attacking two of them, we caused Russia to be looked upon as the coming Saviour; indeed, the people of Wakhan, on the Pamir side of Hunza, were already doing so, whilst Shignan and Roshan, which had been almost depopulated by our friends, the Afghans, had already begun to emigrate into Russian territory. Here Dr. Leitner added that the Russian claims through Bokhara were as illusory as those of Kashmir, and historically even less founded than those of China. Indeed, no one had a right to these countries except the indigenous peoples and chiefs who inhabited them; and in this scramble for the regions round the Pamir, great Britain was simply breaking down her natural defences by stamping out the independence of native tribes and making military roads; for it was the absence of those roads on the British side that rendered it impossible to an invader to do England any real harm or to advance on India proper.

Asked why the trouble had broken out at the present time, Dr. Leitner said, that he had been kept without information of the immediate cause, but he felt certain that it was owing to the attempt to construct a military road to Hunza, whereby England would only facilitate the advent of a possible invader from that direction, besides making Hunza throw in its lot with that invader. It was perfectly untrue, as alleged in some of the Indian papers, that the Nagyris were kidnappers, and that our attack would be an advantage to the cause of anti-slavery. The fact was just the other way. Kidnapping had been stopped in 1869 as far as Hunza was concerned.

The Nagyris never raided at all; Chitrál also gave up selling its Káfir or Shiah subjects into slavery when the markets of Badakshan were closed; but now that confusion had caused the English and Russian advance, Hunza had again taken to raiding, and Chitrál to selling slaves. As for Nagyr, the case was quite different; they were an excellent people and very quiet, so much so that Colonel Biddulph, the Resident, described them as “noted for timidity and incapacity for war,” whereas in his “Tribes of the Hindu Kush” he also states that the people of Hunza are not warlike in the sense in which the Afghans are said to be so. No doubt the Nagyris dislike war, but would fight bravely if driven to do so. Colonel Biddulph adds: “They are settled agricultural communities, proud of the independence they have always maintained for fourteen centuries, hemmed in by lofty mountains, and living under rulers who boast of long, unbroken descent from princes of native blood.” He also bears testimony to the fact that “the Nagyr people were never concerned in these raids, and slavery does not exist among them.” At the same time Dr. Leitner fully admitted that the Hunza people were not a model race, since they used to be desperate raiders and kidnappers, and very immoral and impious. The father of the present king used to dance in a state of drunkenness in the mosque; but, on the other hand, we were not bound to be the reformers of Hunza by pulling down one of the bulwarks to our Indian Empire. Hunza was a picturesque country in every sense; it was nominally governed by fairies: ecstatic women were the prophetesses of the tribe, recounted its past glories, and told what was going on in the neighbouring valleys, so they were its historians and journalists as well as its prophetesses. No war was undertaken unless the fairies gave their consent, and the chief fairy, Yudeni, who protects the “Tham” (a Chinese title), has no doubt already struck the sacred drum in order to call the men of the country to defend the “Heaven-born,” as their chief is called. The two “Thams” of Hunza and Nagyr, who have a common ancestry, are also credited with the power of causing rain, and there would certainly appear to be some foundation for this remarkable fact.

The two tribes are great polo players; archery on horseback is common amongst them; and they are very fair ibex hunters.

The people of Nagyr are as pious and gentle as those of Hunza are the contrary. Their language went back to simple sounds as indicative of a series of human relations or experiences, and clearly showed that the customs and associations of a race were at the basis of so-called rules of grammar. Nothing more wonderful than their language could be conceived; it went to the root of human thought as expressed in language, but the language had already suffered by foreign influences between 1866, when one son of the Rajah of Nagyr taught him, and 1886, when another son of the Rajah continued his lessons.

As regards religion, the Hunzas are Mulais, a mysterious and heretical sect, akin to the Druses of the Lebanon, practising curious rites, and practically infidels. He had obtained a few pages of their secret Bible, the Kelam-i-pir, which throws much light on the doctrines of the so-called “assassins” during the Crusades. The Nagyris are pious Muhammadans of the Shiah denomination.

Dr. Leitner then showed the map accompanying his linguistic work on Dardistan. After comparing it with the most recent Russian and British maps, that of Dr. Leitner gives the fullest and clearest information, not only as regards Hunza-Nagyr, where all the places where fighting has occurred are marked, but also as regards the various Pamirs, thus anticipating in 1866 on linguistic grounds and native itineraries the different Pamirs that have recently been settled geographically. It shows that the ethnographical frontier of the Pamirs to the north are the Turki-speaking nomads of the trans-Altaic range (now Russian); to the west the Persian, or Tajiks (now Afghan); to the south the Aryan Hindu Kush [British]; and to the east the wall of the Serikol Mountains, dividing or admitting Chinese, Tibetan, or Mongolian influence. The indeterminate river courses through the Pamir, or a line stretched across its plateaux, valleys, and mountains, are obviously an unmaintainable demarcation, which is liable to be transgressed by shepherds under whatever rule; but the whole of the Pamirs together, as a huge and happy hunting-ground, are, no doubt, if neutralized by the three Powers concerned, the best possible frontier, as “no man’s land,” and a perfect neutral zone. “What matter,” continued Dr. Leitner, “if the passes are easy of access on the Russian side, it is on the descent, and on the ascent on our side that almost insuperable difficulties begin. Where we are now fighting in Hunza-Nagyr only the low state of the river which divides Hunza from Nagyr enables us to make a simultaneous advance on both. Otherwise we should have to let ourselves man by man down from one ledge of rock to another, and if we miss our footing be whirled away in the most terrible torrent the imagination can conceive. Why, then, destroy such a great defence in our favour if Hunza is kept friendly, as it so easily can be, especially with the pressure exercised on it by the Nagyris, whose forts frown on those of Hunza all down the river that separates their countries? I cannot conceive anything more wanton or suicidal than the present advance even if we should succeed in removing one of the most important landmarks in the history of the human race by shooting down the handful of Nagyris and Hunzas that oppose us. They preserve the pre-historic remnants of legends and customs that explain much that is still obscure in the life and history of European races. A few hundred pounds a year judiciously spent and the promise of the withdrawal of the Gilgit Agency, which was already once before attacked when under Colonel Biddulph, would be a far better way of securing peace than shooting down with Gatlings and Martini-Henry rifles people who defend their independence within their crags with bows, arrows, battleaxes, and a few muskets; and promise of the withdrawal of the Gilgit Agency might be contingent upon the increase of the number of hostages belonging to the chiefs’ families that are now annually sent to Kashmir as a guarantee of friendly relations.

The Hunzas and Nagyris are not to be despised as foes; they are very good marksmen. In 1886, when the Kashmir troops thought they had cleared the plain before the Gilgit Fort entirely of enemies, and not a person was to be seen outside it, the tribesmen would glide along the ground unperceived behind a stone pushed in front of them, and resting their old flint muskets on them shoot off the Maharajah’s Sepoys whenever they showed themselves outside the fort. Indeed, it was this circumstance that induced Dr. Leitner to abandon the protection of the fort and make friends with the tribesmen outside. All the tribes desired was to be left alone in their mountain fastnesses. They had sometimes internecine feuds, but would unite against the common foe. It was merely emasculating their powers of resistance to subject them, either on the one side to Bokhara, which meant Russia, or to Afghanistan or Kashmir, which meant Great Britain, or to China, which meant dependence on a Power that might be utilized any day against Great Britain after the completion of the trans-Siberian railway. Diplomatists, frontier delimitation commissions, and officers, both British and Russian, anxious for promotion, had, continued Dr. Leitner, created the present confusion; and it was now high time to rely rather on the physical obstacles that guaranteed the safety alike of the British, Russian, and Chinese frontiers than on the chapter of political accidents.

Dr. Leitner, who is going to give a lecture at the Westminster Town-hall to-morrow afternoon on “The Races, Religions, and Politics of the Pamir Regions,” then showed our representative Col. Grambcheffsky’s map, which put Hunza where Nagyr ought to be, and ignored the latter place altogether, just as did the last map of the Geographical Society in connection with Mr. Littledale’s tour. Grambcheffsky’s map, however, had since been corrected by evidently an English map, and it was strange that Russians had easier access to English maps than Englishmen themselves. In fact, all this secrecy, Dr. Leitner maintained, was injurious to the acquisition of full knowledge regarding imperfectly known regions. Attention was then directed to a number of maps, that of Mr. Drew, a Kashmir official, showing Hunza-Nagyr to be beyond Kashmir influence. This was practically confirmed by several official maps and the statements of Colonels Biddulph and Hayward, the latter of whom placed the Kashmir frontier towards Hunza at Nomal, whilst the British are now fighting sixteen and a half miles beyond in front of Mayun, where the first Hunza fort is. The Nagyr frontier Dr. Leitner places at Jaglot, which is nineteen miles from Nilt, where we are simultaneously fighting the first Nagyr fort.

Dr. Leitner, in conclusion, expressed his conviction, from his knowledge of the people concerned, that any one with a sympathetic mind could get them to do anything in reason; but that encroachments, whether overt or covert, would be resisted to the utmost. Indeed, England’s restlessness had brought on the present trouble.

In 1866, he stated, the very name of Russia was unknown in these parts, and in 1886 was only known to a few. Yet the English Press in both these years spoke of Russian intrigues among the tribes. He did not fear them as long as the Indian Empire relied on its natural defences, its inner strength, and on justice to its chiefs and people, and as long as its policy with the tribes was guided by knowledge and good feeling.


APPENDIX II.
NOTES ON RECENT EVENTS IN CHILÁS AND CHITRÁL.

In 1866 I was sent by the Punjab Government on a linguistic mission to Kashmir and Chilás at the instance of the Bengal Asiatic Society and on the motion of the late Sir George Campbell, who hoped to identify Kailás or the Indian Olympus with Chilás.[108] Although unable to support that conjecture, I collected material which was published in Part I. of my “Dardistan” and which the Government declared “as throwing very considerable and important light on matters heretofore veiled in great obscurity.” That some obscurity still exists, is evident from the Times telegram of to-day (5th December, 1892), in which an item of news from the Tak [Takk] valley is described as coming from Chitrál, a distant country with which Chilás has nothing to do. The Takk village is fortified, and through the valley is the shortest and easiest road to our British district of Kaghán. It is alleged that some headmen of Takk wished to see Dr. Robertson at Gilgit, who thereupon sent a raft to bring them, but the raft was fired on and Capt. Wallace, who went to its assistance, was wounded. [Chilás is on the Kashmir side of the Indus, and the Gilgit territory is reached by crossing the Indus at Bunji.]

The incident is ascribed either to “the treachery of the men who professed willingness to come in” or to the mischievousness of “other persons.” It is probable from this suggestion of treachery and the unconscious use of the words “to come in,” which is the Anglo-Indian equivalent for “surrender,” that the headmen of Takk were not willing to make over their Fort to the British or to open the road to Gilgit. The Takk incident, therefore, is not a part of the so-called “Chitrál usurpation,” under which heading it immediately appears, but is a part of our usurpation on the tribes inhabiting the banks of the Indus. In 1843, these tribes inflicted a severe loss on the Sikh invaders, and in my “history of the wars with Kashmir” the part taken by the manly defenders of Takk, now reduced from 131 to some 90 houses, is given in detail. It seems to me that as the Gilgit force was unable to support “the Chitrál usurpation” of our protégé, Afzul-ul-Mulk, owing to his being killed by his uncle Sher Afzul, it is to be employed to coerce the Indus tribes to open out a road which ought never to have been withdrawn from their hold. About 50 years ago the Takk men were stirred into so-called rebellion by Kashmir agents in order to justify annexation. It is to be hoped that history will not repeat itself, or that, at any rate, the next 50 years will see the Indus tribes as independent and peaceful as they have been since 1856, especially in Chilás (before 1892), and as mysterious as Hunza ought to have remained till our unnecessary attack on that country caused practically unknown Russia to be looked upon as the Saviour of Nations “rightly struggling to be free” (see Baron Vrevsky’s reply to the Hunza deputation). Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat; and no greater instance of folly can be conceived, than the construction of a military road through countries in which the chamois is often puzzled for its way. Nor was the attention of the Russians drawn to them before we made our own encroachments.

As for the Pamirs, whatever may be the present interpretation of Prince Gortchakoff’s Convention, the Russians were unwilling to let political consequences or limits accompany the erratic wanderings of Kirghiz sheep in search of pasturage in that region. Prince Gortchakoff’s advocacy of a Neutral Zone and of the autonomy of certain tribes was justified by the facts (which he, however, rather guessed than knew) and was worthy alike of that Diplomatist and of our acceptance in the interests of India and of peace. The incorporation of certain Districts in the domain, or under the sphere of influence, of Afghanistan, was distasteful to tribes attached to their hereditary rulers or to republican institutions and was not too willingly accepted by the Amir of Afghanistan, who now expects us to defend the white Elephants that we have given him better than we did Panjdeh. Some Muláis that had fled from Russian tyranny to Afghan territory assured me that “the finger of an Afghan was more oppressive than the whole Russian army.” Indeed, so far as Central Asia is concerned, Russia, with the exception of certain massacres, has hitherto behaved, on the whole, as a great civilizing power.[109]

As for Sirdar Nizám-ul-Mulk, this is his name and not his title. He is the “Mihtar” or “Prince” Nizám-ul-Mulk, and neither an Indian “Sirdár” nor a “Nizám.” He is also the “Badshah” of Turikoh, this being the district assigned to him in his father’s lifetime as the heir-apparent. He was snubbed by us for offering to relieve that excellent officer, Col. Lockhart, when a prisoner in Wakhan! He has written to me from Turikoh for “English phrases and words with their Persian equivalents as a pleasure and a requirement.” This does not look like hostility to the British. He spoke to me in 1886 of his brother Afzul’s bravery with affection and pride, though he has ever maintained his own acknowledged right as the successor of his father Amán-ul-Mulk. If he has been alienated from us or has ever been tempted to throw himself into the arms of Russia, it has most assuredly been our fault. Besides, just as we have abandoned the Shiah Hazaras, our true friends during the late Afghan War, to be destroyed by their religious and political foe, the Sunni Amir Abdurrahman, so have the Amir Sher Ali and the Tham of Hunza, Safdar Ali Khan, rued their trust in Russian Agents. I regret, therefore, to find in the Times telegram of to-day that “the Nizám” “is acting without the support of the British Agent” “who has not interfered,” when he had already interfered in favour of the usurper Afzul-ul-Mulk.

As for the connivance of Amir Abdurrahman, my “rough history of Dardistan from 1800 to 1872” shows that, in one sense, Chitrál is tributary to Badakhshán and as we have assigned Badakhshán to the Amir, he, no doubt, takes an interest in Chitrál affairs. I believe, however, that interest to be somewhat platonic, and he knows that his friend Jehandár Shah (the late wrongfully deposed hereditary ruler of Badakhshán) never paid any tribute to Afghanistan. But Chitrál once also paid tribute to Dîr, with whose able Chief, Rahmat-ullah-Khan, “the Nizám” is connected by marriage. Chitrál on the other hand has received a subsidy from Kashmir since 1877, but this was as much a tribute from Kashmir to Aman-ul-Mulk, as a sign of his subjection to Kashmir, for shortly after he made offers of allegiance to Kabul. With all alike it is

“The good old rule, the simple plan,
That they should take who have the power
And they should keep who can.”

It is misleading to speak of their relations to neighbouring States as “tributary.” Are the Khyberis tributary to us or we to them, because we pay them a tribute to let our merchants travel through their Pass? Have we never ourselves come, first as suppliants, then as merchants, then as guests, then as advisers, then as protectors, and, finally, as conquerors?

The procedure of Afghanistan, of Chitrál, of Kashmir, and of our own is very much alike and so are the several radii of influence of the various factors in “the question.” We have our fringe of independent frontier tribes with whom we flirt, or wage war, as suits the convenience of the moment. Afghanistan has a similar fringe of independent Ishmaelites round it and even through it, whose hands are against everybody and everybody’s hands against them. Chitrál is threatened all along its line by the Kafirs, who even make a part of Badakhshán insecure, but are nevertheless our very good friends. Kashmir has its fringe on its extreme border, especially since, in violation of our treaty of 1846, it has attacked countries beyond the Indus on the west, including the Kunjûtis of Hunza, who resumed their raiding—which had ceased in 1867—during and after Col. Lockhart’s visit in 1886. Yet there can be little doubt about “the loyalty” of those concerned. The Amirs of Afghanistan consider themselves “shields of India,” as I have heard two of them say, and so did our Ally of Kashmir, who ought never to have been reduced to a subordinate feudatory position. What wonder then that old Amán-ul-Mulk of Chitrál should also have tried to become a buffer between Afghanistan on the West, Kashmir on the East, India on the South and, latterly, Russia in the North, if indeed the whole story of Russian intrigue in Chitrál be at all truer than a similar mare’s nest which we discovered in Hunza? It is the policy of Russia to create false alarms and thereby to involve us in expenditure, whilst standing by and posing as the future saviour of the tribes. Our tendency to compromises and subservient Commissions of delimitation and to “scuttling” occasionally, is also well known and so we are offered in Russian papers “an Anglo-Russian understanding on the subject of Chitrál,” as if Chitrál was not altogether out of the sphere of Russia’s legitimate influence! It is also amusing to find in the Novosti that Russia’s sole desire is “to prevent Afghanistan from falling into British hands.” We are already spending at Gilgit on food etc. for our troops more in one year than were spent in the 40 years of the so-called mismanagement of Kashmir, which I myself steadily exposed, but which kept the frontier far more quiet than it has been since the revival of the Gilgit Agency. There is every prospect now of heavier and continued expenditure as the policy of the Foreign Department of the Government of India develops. On that policy a veto should at once be put by the British Parliament and public, if our present Liberal Administration cannot do so without pressure from without. We should conciliate Nizam-ul-Mulk before it is too late. He is connected with Umra Khan of Jandôl and with the influential Mullah Shahu of Bajaur through his maternal uncle, Kokhan Beg. He has also connections in Badakhshan, Hunza and Dîr, as already stated. Indeed, we ought to have given him our support from the beginning. I doubt whether it would be desirable to subdivide Chitrál as stated in to-day’s Times, letting Sher Afzul keep Chitrál proper, giving Yasin to “the Nizám” and letting Umra Khan retain what he has already seized of Southern Chitrál. As for Sher Afzul, I believe, that he is also “loyal.”

As for Hunza, I am not at all certain that the fugitive, Safdar Ali Khan, really murdered his father. At all events when the deed was committed, I find that it was attributed to Muhammad Khan,[110] probably not the present Mir Muhammad Nazim who has acknowledged the suzerainty of England (through Kashmir) and of China. The latter power has always had something to say to Hunza, and the very title of its Chief “Tham” is of Chinese origin. The subsidy that China used to pay for keeping open the commercial road from Badakhshan and Wakhan through the Pamirs along Kunjût (Hunza) to Yarkand, was about £380 per annum, and this sum was divided between four States and ensured the immunity of the route from raids.[111] I doubt whether in future £380 a year on Hunza alone will enable us to keep it quiet, and I am sure that the lofty superciliousness with which Chinese officials discuss the Pamir question, as something that scarcely concerns them, is no evidence of that pertinacious power abandoning claims to a suzerainty in those regions which are historically founded, although their exercise has been more by an appeal to imagination of the glorious and invincible, if distant, “Khitái,” than by actual interference.

Indeed, it is China alone that has a grievance—against Russia for the occupation of the Alichur Pamir—against Afghanistan for expelling her troops from Somatash (of subsequent Yanoff fame)—and against England for encroaching on her ancient feudatory of Hunza, whose services in suppressing the Khoja rebellion in 1847 are commemorated in a tablet on one of the gates of Yarkand.

H. H. Mihtar Nizam-ul-Mulk and his late Yasin Council.

Chitrali Musicians and the Badakshi Poet, Taighun Shah.

Note.—We add a reproduction of the photographs of the Mihtar and Badshah Nizam-ul-Mulk, sitting in Council with his uncle, Bahadur Khan, now at Gilgit, where he represented Afzul-ul-Mulk. On the Nizam’s left is his foster-uncle, Maimun Shah, whilst behind him stand our Indian Agent, Wafadár Khan and a Chitráli office-holder, Wazîr Khan, of corresponding rank. We also give the portrait of the Chitrál Court poet and musician, the celebrated Taighûn Shah, one of whose songs, with its notation, was published in our issue of the 1st of January, 1891. He is seated with the two flute-players who always precede the King of Chitrál when on a tour.


Although the period may be past in which a great English Journal could ask, “what is Gilgit?” the contradictory telegrams and newspaper accounts which we receive regarding the countries adjoining Gilgit show that the Press has still much to learn. Names of places, as far apart as Edinburgh and London, are put within a day’s march on foot. Names of men figure on maps as places and the relationships of the Chiefs of the region in question are invented or confounded as may suit the politics of the moment, if not the capacity of the printer. The injunctions of the Decalogue are applied or misapplied, extended or curtailed, to suit immediate convenience, and a different standard of morality is constantly being found for our friends of to-day or our foes of to-morrow. The youth Afzul-ul-Mulk was credited with all human virtues and with even more than British manliness, as he was supposed to be friendly to us. He had given his country into our hands in order to receive our support against his elder brother, the acknowledged heir of the late Aman-ul-Mulk of Chitrál, but that elder brother, Nizám-ul-Mulk, was no less friendly to English interests, although he has the advantage of being a man of capacity and independence. The sudden death of Aman-ul-Mulk coincided with the presence of our protégé at Chitrál, and the first thing that the virtuous Afzul-ul-Mulk did, was to invite as many brothers as were within reach to a banquet when he murdered them. No doubt, as a single-minded potentate, he did not wish to be diverted from the task of governing his country by the performance of social duties to the large circle of acquaintances in brothers and their families which Providence bestows on a native ruler or claimant in Chitrál and Yasin. A member of the Khush-waqtia dynasty of Yasin, which is a branch of the Chitrál dynasty, told me when I expressed my astonishment at the constant murders in his family: “A real relative in a high family is a person whom God points out to one to kill as an obstacle in one’s way, whereas a foster-relative (generally of a lower class) is a true friend who rises and falls with one’s own fortune” (it being the custom for a scion of a noble house to be given out to a nurse.)


The dynasty of Chitral is said to have been established by Baba Ayub, an adventurer of Khorassan. He adopted the already existing name of Katór, whence the dynasty is called Katore. The Emperor Baber refers to the country of Katór in his Memoirs and a still more ancient origin has been found in identifying Katór with “Kitolo, the King of the Great Yuechi, who, in the beginning of the 5th century, conquered Balkh and Gandhara, and whose son established the Kingdom of the Little Yuechi, at Peshawur.” (See Biddulph’s “Tribes of the Hindoo Koosh,” page 148.) General Cunningham asserts that the King of Chitrál takes the title of Shah Kator, which has been held for nearly 2,000 years, and the story of their descent from Alexander may be traced to the fact that they were the successors of the Indo-Grecian Kings in the Kabul valley. If Katór is a corruption of Kaisar, then let it not be said that the remnant of the Katore exclaimed with the Roman gladiator: “Ave, Kaisar-i-Hind, morituri te salutant.”

Amán-ul-Mulk, the late ruler of Chitrál, was, indeed, a terrible man, who to extraordinary courage joined the arts of the diplomatist. He succeeded his elder brother, surnamed Adam-Khôr or “man-eater.” His younger brother, Mir Afzul, is said to have been killed by him or to have committed a convenient suicide; another brother, Sher Afzul, who is now in possession of Chitrál, was long a fugitive in Badakhshan whence he has just returned with a few Afghans (such as any pretender can ever collect) and a hundred of the Chitráli slaves that used to be given in tribute to the Mir of Badakhshan, which itself never paid a tribute to Kabul before the late Sher Ali of Afghanistan installed Mahmud Shah, who expelled his predecessor Jehandar Shah, the friend of Abdur-Rahman, the present Amir of Afghanistan. Another brother of Aman-ul-Mulk was Kokhan Beg, whose daughter married the celebrated Mullah Shahu Baba, a man of considerable influence in Bajaur, who is feared by the Badshah of Kunar (a feudatory of Kabul and a friend of the British) and is an enemy of the Kamôji Kafirs, that infest one of the roads to Chitrál. This Kokhan Beg, who was a maternal uncle of Afzul-ul-Mulk, was killed the other day by his brother Sher Afzul coming from Badakhshan. I mention all this, as in the troubles that are preparing, the ramifications of the interests of the various pretenders are a matter of importance. Other brothers of Aman-ul-Mulk are: Muhammad Ali (Moriki), Yádgar Beg, Shádman Beg and Bahádur Khán (all by a mother of lower degree), and another Bahádur Khán, who was on the Council of Nizám-ul-Mulk. Nizám-ul-Mulk has therefore to contend with one or more of his uncles, and by to-day’s telegram[112] is on his way to the Chitrál Fort in order to expel Sher Afzul with the aid of the very troops that Sher Afzul had sent to turn out Afzul-ul-Mulk’s Governor from Yasin. I believe that Nizám-ul-Mulk has or had two elder half-brothers, Gholam of Oyôn and Majid Dastagir of Drôshp; but, in any case, he was the eldest legitimate son and, according to Chitrál custom, was invested with the title of Badshah of Turikoh, the rule of which valley compelled his absence from Chitrál and not “his wicked and intriguing disposition” as alleged by certain Anglo-Indian journals. Of other brothers of Nizám-ul-Mulk was Shah Mulk (of lower birth), who was Governor of Daraung and was killed by Afzul-ul-Mulk. He used to live at Dros (near Pathan in Shashi). Afzul-ul-Mulk of Drasun, whom we have already mentioned as a wholesale fratricide, was killed in his flight to one of the towers of the Chitrál Fort from the invading force of his uncle, Sher Afzul of Badakhshan. A younger half-brother is also Behram-ul-Mulk (by a lower mother), called “Viláyeti,” of Moroi in Andarti. Other brothers are: Amin-ul-Mulk, a brother of good birth of Oyôn (Shoghôt), who was reared by a woman of the Zondré or highest class; Wazir-ul-Mulk (of low birth) of Brôz; Abdur-Rahman (low-born) at Owir (Barpèsh), and Badshah-i-Mulk, also of Owir, who was reared by the wife of Fath-Ali Shah. There are no doubt other brothers also whose names I do not know. Murid, who was killed by Sher Afzul, is also an illegitimate brother.

A few words regarding the places mentioned in recent telegrams may be interesting: Shogôth is the name of a village, of a fort, and of a district which is the north-western part of Chitrál, and it also comprises the Ludkho and tributary valleys. Through the district is the road leading to the Dara and Nuqsán passes, to the right and left respectively, at the bottom of which is a lake on which official toadyism has inflicted the name of Dufferin in supersession of the local name. Darushp (Drôshp) is another big village in this district and in the Ludkho valley, and Andarti is a Fort in it within a mile of the Kafir frontier. The inhabitants of Shogôth are descendants of Munjanis, whose dialect (Yidgah) I refer to elsewhere, and chiefly profess to be Shiahs, in consequence of which they have been largely exported as slaves by their Sunni rulers. Baidam Khan, a natural son of Aman-ul-Mulk, was the ruler of it. The Ludkho valley is traversed by the Arkari river which falls into that of Chitrál. At the head of the Arkari valley are three passes over the Hindukhush, including the evil-omened “Nuqsán,” which leads to Zeibak, the home of the heretical Maulais (co-religionists of the Assassins of the Crusades) in Badakhshán. It is shorter, more direct, and freer from Kafir raids than the longer and easier Dora pass. Owir is a village of 100 houses on the Arkari river, and is about 36 miles from Zeibak. Drasan is both the name of a large village and of a fort which commands the Turikoh valley, a subdivision of the Drasan District, which is the seat of the heir-apparent to the Chitrál throne (Nizám-ul-Mulk). Yet the Pioneer, in its issue of the 5th October last, considers that Lord Lansdowne had settled the question of succession in favour of Afzul-ul-Mulk, that Nizám-ul-Mulk would thus be driven to seek Russian aid, but that any such aid would be an infringement of the rights of Abdur-Rahman. Now that Abdur-Rahman is suspected, on the flimsiest possible evidence, to have connived at Sher Afzul’s invasion of Chitrál, we seek to pick a quarrel with him for what a few weeks ago was considered an assertion of his rights. Let it be repeated once for always that if ever Abdur-Rahman or Nizám-ul-Mulk, or the Chief of Hunza or Kashmir or Upper India fall into the arms of Russia, it will be maxima nostra culpa. I know the Amir Abdur-Rahman, as I knew the Amir Sher Ali, as I know Nizám-ul-Mulk, and of all I can assert that no truer friends to England existed in Asia than these Chiefs. Should Abdur-Rahman be alienated, as Sher Ali was, or Nizám-ul-Mulk might be, it will be entirely in consequence of our meddlesomeness and our provocations. Russia has merely to start a will-o’-the-wisp conversation between Grombcheffsky and the Chief of Hunza, when there is internal evidence that Grombcheffsky was never in Hunza at all, and certainly never went there by the Muztagh Pass, that we, ignoring the right of China and of the treaty with Kashmir in 1846, forgetful of the danger in our rear and the undesirability of paving for an invader the road in front, fasten a quarrel on Hunza-Nagyr, and slaughter its inhabitants. No abuse or misrepresentation was spared in order to inflame the British public even against friendly and inoffensive Nagyr. What wonder that a Deputation was sent from Hunza to seek Russian aid and that it returned contented with presents, and public expressions of sympathy which explained away the Russian official refusal as softened by private assurances of friendship? Whatever may be the disaster to civilization in the ascendancy of Russian rule, the personal behaviour of Russian agents in Central Asia is, generally, pleasant. As in Hunza, so in Afghanistan, some strange suspicion of the disloyalty of its Chief, suggested by Russia, may involve us in a senseless war and inordinate expense, with the eventual result that Afghanistan must be divided between England and Russia, and their frontiers in Asia become conterminous. Then will it be impossible for England ever to oppose Russia in Europe, because fear of complications in Asia will paralyze her. Then the tenure of India will depend on concessions, for which that country is not yet ripe, or on a reign of terror, either course ending in the withdrawal of British administration from, at any rate, Northern India. Yet it is “Fas ab hosti doceri,” and when Prince Gortschakoff urged the establishment of a neutral zone with autonomous states, including Badakhshan, he advocated a policy that would have conducted to centuries of peace and to the preservation of various ancient forms of indigenous Oriental civilization by interposing the mysterious blanks of the Pamirs and the inaccessible countries of the Hindukush between Russian and British aggression.


Instead of this consummation so devoutly to be wished, and possible even now, though late, if action be taken under good advice and in the fulness of knowledge, either Power—